Living and Learning through Grief

An honest reflection on loss, healing, and the lessons grief leaves behind.

Three years ago, I had my first real brush with grief. It was painful, uncomfortable, but most of all, a shock to my system. And I felt completely unequipped to navigate that phase of my life.

Grief doesn’t come with a user manual on what to expect and how to cope with it.

The APA Dictionary of Psychology defines grief as “the anguish experienced after significant loss, usually the death of a beloved person.”

In Islam, we observe a mourning period of three days for close relatives. This period is meant to allow family and friends time to grieve, reflect, and come to terms with the loss. During these three days, it is customary for people to visit the family of the deceased, offer condolences (ta‘ziyah), and provide emotional and practical support.

The mourning period does not mean that grief must end after three days — rather, it acknowledges that mourning is a natural response, but after 3 days, we should try to resume with normal duties of life.

As Muslims, we believe this life is temporary. At the moment of death, the first phrase we utter is:
Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji‘un
(Indeed we belong to Allah, and indeed to Him we will return)Qur’an 2:156

We don’t see death as an end, but a transition to the next life.

That said, death is still hard, and grieving is a natural process.

Even Prophets went through this. When the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ lost his young son Ibrahim, he cried. The hadith goes:

“The eyes weep, and the heart grieves, but we do not say anything except what pleases our Lord. Indeed, O Ibrahim, we are grieved by your departure.” Muslim and Quran+3Sunnah+3Sunnah+3

This hadith proves that grieving and crying is a natural and human reaction to loss of a loved one.

Grieving is not wrong, but it is heavy and takes a toll on our body and mind, and so we try to push it away.

But the fact is: the more we bury these emotions in our hearts, the heavier the weight becomes. It doesn’t disappear, it just becomes an invisible, hidden load.

Sheryl Sandberg in her book Option B, describes this feeling as having a giant elephant in the room, which follows you around, filling all the space, and making it hard to breathe.
The only way to get that elephant out is by acknowledging it.

When I was unexpectedly struck by grief three years ago, I didn’t know how to react.
Should I take a break from work, or stay busy with work?
Should I talk to people about it, or avoid the subject and distract myself?

I looked to those around me who were grieving, and searched for resources. I found a few, but not enough to guide me.

And since then, I have wanted to compile something that can help others navigate grief. But every time I sat to work on this project, I stopped. It was just too hard.

So, with reluctance, after three years, I finally gathered the courage to write this piece. Not to gain sympathy or make people uncomfortable, but to speak of grief as a natural human emotion that we all must face at some point.

What follows is not advice, but a collection of reflections and lessons — things I wish someone had told me when I was grieving. If you are in that space now, I hope these words can offer you some comfort, or at least help you feel a little less alone.

It’s different for everyone

“There’s no one way to grieve and there’s no one way to comfort. What helps one person won’t help another, and even what helps one day might not help the next.” — Option B

You may have heard of the 7 stages of grief, but many psychologists agree that the grieving process varies from person to person.

When I lost my father, I cried far more than my siblings. My mother talked about it more openly than we did. That made us all wonder: who was doing it “right”?

We were all grieving, but in our own ways. I did it through tears, my mother through talking, and my siblings through silent contemplation.

My friends who had gone through a similar loss, shared what they went through and how they coped. I realized that even though this journey is familiar for many, it is still unique for everyone.

When you lose a loved one, you join a club. Everyone in that club has the same story, but with their own version.

Stay Strong, but Vulnerable

When my father passed away everyone started telling me that being the eldest daughter I have to be strong for my family. But that advice didn’t help me. I felt pressured to do something that was not in my control.

I thought being strong meant hiding my emotions, smiling through my pain, or just pretending everything is normal, when it was clearly not.

I later realized that staying strong in that moment required me to be vulnerable. To share our grief openly with one another.

Stay connected

Just one week after his death we all separated. My brother went back to Malaysia, a week later, I came back to The Netherlands.

We missed him, but we also missed each other, because we had a common loss.

We tried to find his presence in each other, but also others who were near and dear to him - his siblings and friends.

And so we scheduled some family video calls where we could all be together at the same time.

Mostly, only my mother did the talking, but even the silent presence of siblings made a huge difference.

Seek Help

Unfortunately, counselling is something that is still not fully understood and appreciated in many cultures and societies. But it exists for a reason. Some people need extra support. It doesn’t mean there is something wrong with them if they need that extra help.

I have talked openly about my own journey to wellness. You can read it here:

There’s strength in reaching out — to a grief counsellor or a therapist. You learn techniques of navigating your emotions. Its not a magic pill, but it is a form of medicine to help you get through the pain.

Give it time

One simple piece of advice proved 100% true for me: “Give it time.”

They say time heals. With time, we learn to move on.

After losing someone close, the first year is the hardest, because everything happens for the first time … first birthday without him, first Eid, first anniversary… when everything comes back to haunt you. But after that, its not a first anymore, and you know what to expect.

Still there is no timeline to grief. A friend mentioned that it took her 4 years to feel like she had completely come to terms with her grief. For some it can be quicker, and for others even lengthier. It depends on your personal situation, but also your personality. So, its important not to compare yourself with others.

You have probably heard that grief comes in waves. And once you understand how the wave works, you learn techniques to flow with it. You allow the wave to take you down, because you are assured that it will bring you back up again. Instead of fearing drowning in the wave, you learn to surf with it.

After 3 years, I feel at peace with my father’s departure from this world. I still miss him dearly, but I believe that he is in a better place. And I pray to Allah to reunite us in the gardens of Jannah insha’Allah.

I write this piece with the hope that it can be a source of comfort to someone struggling with the strangeness of grief right now.

If you are confused and hurt, its ok. Remember these things:

• Don’t compare yourself to anyone. Everyone reacts differently.

• Find an outlet: Someone to talk to, journal, praying and meditation.

• Seek help: A grief counsellor or therapy.

Grief is painful, but it’s a reality. The more you run away from it, the more it haunts you.

Have you gone through this painful reality? What helped you cope with it? Share in the comments to make this piece more resourceful.

Do you know someone who is grieving at this point? Share this article with them with a simple note: “Hey, I thought this might help you, if you feel like reading.”

In my next post I am going to talk more on how to support people around you who are grieving. Make sure you have subscribed to this publication so that you don’t miss out on it.