A Drink of Water: The Space for Grief, Joy, and Healing

“There, there” might not be the most comforting thing to say when someone is crying. But some of us would rather say “there, there” than stand around awkwardly wringing our hands, staring into the abyss—or worse, blurting out something off-putting.

Let’s be honest: there is nothing—absolutely nothing—you can say to someone who is grieving. Society has us in a chokehold with its scripted phrases like 'I’m sorry for your loss' or the even worse 'Let me know if you need anything.' I might sound cynical because I recently lost my grandmother—but that also means I know what I’m talking about.

My friend and I have a little ritual to handle sadness. We ask each other, “Do you want a drink of water?” That’s it. That’s our acknowledgment of comfort, because empty words don’t soothe sadness—especially when we’re miles apart. This might sound cold or even childish to some people, but consider the alternative: off-putting small talk or awkward silence. Most people don’t know what to do with tears. Do we cry together and make it even more awkward?

Maybe.

Grief is weird. Honestly, that could be my whole post. But for the sake of carrying on—let’s make it hella awkward. Kinda.

Grief doesn’t just happen when someone dies

When relationships, jobs, or friendships end, whether abruptly or slowly, there’s always sadness, often disguised as anger. Yet these endings never get the same “ritual” as death. A life may weigh heavier, but the emotional response is strikingly similar.

Grief is the revelation you might need.

 Loss has a way of exposing long-buried resentment and grievances. Outbursts, snide comments, or vindictive actions suddenly reveal how people truly feel. Should it matter? Yes, and no.

• Yes, because those revelations help you see the genuine state of your relationships.

• No, because you needed to know. Where people place you in their world determines what comes next.

  
  

It’s sad when these revelations involve people you cherished. People you shared space, time, and memories with. The disappointment cuts deep. But some seasons have to end. What we hold too tightly can suffocate us, and endings often show us what we lack and how to pivot.

Grief Doesn’t Just Go Away

Some jobs offer bereavement leave—time to bury your dead. But what happens after? The grief is lifelong. You can’t pray, eat, sleep, spend, or curse it away. It arrives uninvited—on a random afternoon, with a smell or a memory.

Years after my grandfather passed, I helped an older gentleman at a bus stop with his phone. When we boarded the bus, I noticed how much he resembled my grandfather—the same height, the same fitted cap tilted just so. It took everything in me not to burst into tears. When he got off, I watched him through the window then wrote a poem.

Loss reshapes us. We learn how endings affect our growth and healing. I don’t avoid clichés because they hold the truth—everything does happen for a reason. (Though I still struggle to understand what that reason is.)

Often we only see the meaning in hindsight. We begin to love differently, live differently, and open ourselves to a whole new way of being.

Life Apparently Goes On

After my grandmother’s passing, I was annoyed. I have to live in a world without her. The woman I loved—and who loved me back—no longer exists in the physical sense, and I’m just supposed to… go on? Unnerving as this continues to be, life does in fact go on.

What now?

This isn’t comforting. So, here’s a cup of water. It won’t change anything, but it gives a little perspective. No amount of “I’m here for you” changes the reality. But if we learn to honor loss, we may find moments of joy.

• Grief lets us celebrate the good times.

• Grief gives us pause—to sit still and make room for what’s next.

• Grief returns us to ourselves.

• Grief gives permission to move forward, especially in love.

• Grief deepens our appreciation for the present—and for the people still with us.

• Grief shows us how fragile life is and teaches us to practice kindness.

How many cups of water will it take to find joy? That’s for you to decide. Take your water. Sit with your grief. Remember the good, learn from the hard, and keep moving forward with purpose.

Let’s keep this conversation going. Share this with someone who needs a cup of water today—and remind them they’re not alone.