How to Support a Loved One After an Unexpected Death
When Grief Is Sudden, Support Must Be Intentional
When someone you care about loses a loved one suddenly, it can feel impossible to know what to say or do. You want to help—but how? Grief after unexpected loss is unlike anything else. It's not just sadness—it’s shock, trauma, and the desperate need to survive minute by minute. I know this because I lost my healthy 11-month-old son, Dhian, suddenly due to a rare complication of a common virus.1. Use Your Initiative—Don’t Wait to Be Asked
In the first few days after losing Dhian, I could barely brush my teeth. Breathing felt like a task. Thinking or making decisions was impossible. The people who helped most were the ones who just did.
They didn’t ask, “What do you need?”—they brought food, ran errands, showed up with purpose and kindness. Meals kept coming for weeks after his passing. My sisters stepped in—taking my children to the doctor when they were poorly, keeping things running when I couldn't even stand upright with the weight of grief.
One sister gently encouraged my kids to draw memories and write little messages to Dhian, which we placed in his casket. She bought child-friendly books on death and loss, helping them make sense of something senseless. I’ll never forget that kind of thoughtful action. I'm forever grateful.
2. Offer Practical, No-Fuss Help
We had a house full of visitors for two weeks. It was intense, and honestly, I spent a lot of time upstairs, disconnected from it all.
But my husband’s cousin took over all hospital and coroner communication without us asking. He’s a no-nonsense type—on a Sunday afternoon, he showed up with printed photos and frames for the house. No questions. No fuss. He just knew I needed real pictures of Dhian—not ones on a phone screen.
My mum quietly took our washing home, laundered it, and returned it folded. Those small, practical gestures mattered deeply.
If you’re unsure how to help, try:
- Delivering a meal
- Tidying the kitchen
- Printing and framing photos
- Offering childcare
- Handling phone calls or admin
- Running errands or doing the school run
Just do something quietly. Consistently. Lovingly.
3. Be Careful With Your Words
So many things are said with love and good intentions, but in reality, they can be deeply hurtful.
What didn’t help:
“You have to stay strong for your other children.” At that time, I felt like a failure. I didn’t need reminders of the children I had to live for—I needed permission to fall apart.
“Dhian will always be in your DNA, so he’s always with you.” I didn’t want him in my DNA. I wanted him in my arms.
“You can have more children.” As if Dhian could be replaced. Someone even said, “Don’t worry, she’ll be pregnant this time next year”—the week he died.
“I can’t be away from my baby, so I can’t imagine what you’re going through.” How lovely for you that you can be with your baby. I couldn’t. That stung.
Another person kept bringing up funeral costs, trying to be helpful, but it felt invasive. I didn’t care about the money. I was preparing to bury my child. I couldn’t think about spreadsheets.
One particularly upsetting moment came when someone suggested we should have had a defibrillator at home. It was an incredibly hurtful comment that implied some kind of failure or prevention, in a situation that was out of our control. More than anything, I wish we had one too!
These words might seem comforting or helpful, but they can make a grieving parent feel unseen, blamed, or dismissed.
Here’s the truth: you don’t need to say anything profound. Just sit with us. Listen. Hug us. Say, “I’m here.”
What actually helps:
- "I’m so sorry."
- "I’m here for you."
- "I don’t know what to say, but I care."
- Your presence. A hug. Silence.
4. Support Beyond the Funeral Is Crucial
Grief doesn’t end with the funeral. Often, that’s when the hardest part begins. The visitors fade. The meals stop. But we’re still here—still grieving, still shattered.- Continuing to check in, even months later.
- Remembering key dates—birthdays, anniversaries, milestones.
- Offering space, time, and presence without expectation.
- Allow them to not be okay.
5. Respect Their Need for Space
I needed space. I still do. Time alone, long drives, escaping the house before the funeral took place—it helped. I scrolled social media looking only for posts about sudden child loss. It sounds dark, but I found comfort in seeing others surviving the same.
I don’t need small talk. I don't need forced positivity. I just need people to meet me where I am.
6. Thoughtful Help > Unhelpful Help
Some well-meaning people made more mess—literally. My kitchen became chaotic. It didn’t help my mental state, but I had to let go of it.
What would have helped: someone quietly cleaning up or respecting our space.
7. Helpful Tools That Supported My Grief
I found solace in journaling. In my phone, in notebooks—anywhere I could express the storm inside. I wrote down my thoughts, my pain, my guilt. I also kept a journal of the sweet, heartbreaking things my kids said about Dhian. I want them to remember him, always.
Healthy grieving tools:
- Phone journaling—my private thoughts
- A memory journal of things my kids said/did about Dhian
- Refusing to pretend I was okay
- Protecting my energy and boundaries
If your loved one is open to it, encourage gentle, private tools like writing, walks, art, reading, or joining a support group. Not to fix the grief—but to hold it.
Download: How to Help When Loss Is Sudden
If you want to support someone through sudden loss, download my lovingly made guide:
Includes:
- Gentle things to say and avoid
- Practical help suggestions
- Grief Ally Pledge
- Meal train templates and task guides
- Sticky notes for help offers
- Long-term support reminders
- Helpful contacts and websites