Supporting a Grieving Friend: A Practical Guide

Ebony McMullen, the protagonist of The Colors of Home, has been living in my head for years, and she's ready to share what it really means to rebuild a life from broken pieces. Her voice deserves space beyond the novel's pages. Here is her third post.

When Michael died, my world collapsed. Friends worried they'd say the wrong thing, that they'd somehow make it worse. But they couldn't. The worst had already happened. My children had lost their father, and lost the man I had built my life with.

Based on my experience, here are practical ways to support a grieving friend.

Show Up (Don't Wait to Be Asked)

When my husband died, a lot of people said the same thing. "Let me know if you need anything."

They meant well. But here's the problem. When you're drowning in grief, you can't think clearly enough to know what you need, much less articulate it when asked.

I needed groceries. I needed someone to mow my lawn. I needed my kids picked up from school. I needed the casserole dish returned to its owner. I needed a thousand small things, but I couldn't make myself care about any of them enough to ask.

The friends who helped didn't ask. They showed up.

They appeared at my door with a meal and said, "I'm leaving this on your porch. You don't have to eat it now, talk to me, or anything. It's here when you're hungry."

I'd receive a text. "I'm at the grocery store. May I pick up some things for you?" They showed up with milk, bread, and toilet paper, the basics I'd forgotten existed.

"I'm picking up your kids on Tuesday and taking them for pizza. I'll have them back by five." They gave me time to be by myself.

"Let me know if you need anything." It's so appreciated, but it's helpful if you offer something specific.

Bring Food (The Right Way)

Food matters. Not because grieving people are hungry, most of us aren't, but because feeding yourself and your family requires energy you don't have.

But please don't bring a casserole in your good dish and expect it back soon, or food that requires preparation.

Please bring food in disposable containers and things that freeze well. Bring meals requiring zero effort, heat and eat, or better, eat cold. Include paper plates and plastic forks so the grieving family doesn't have to do dishes.

Label everything with contents and reheating instructions written on the container.

Bring easy snacks, granola bars, fruit, crackers, things grieving people can grab when they remember to eat.

A dear friend in Colorado showed up every Saturday for weeks with a cooler full of already-portioned meals, each one labeled, each one simple. She'd drop by with food and a hug. No expectation of conversation or gratitude.

That's what I needed. Practical help without strings attached.

Do the Invisible Work

What helped me a lot were the things I didn't even know I needed doing until someone did them.

My lawn was getting long, but I couldn't summon the energy to care. A neighbor asked me once if it was okay to mow. He continued mowing until Owen, my oldest, took over.

When the kids needed rides to activities, a friend created a carpool schedule and contacted other parents to help.

A friend from church organized a meal train, so I didn't have three casseroles on Tuesday and nothing on Thursday.

Doing the invisible work helps keep a household running when the person running it can't function.

Say Their Name

Say the name of the person who died.

Some people hesitated to say Michael's name after he died. They thought it would make me cry or remind me of my loss. I was already crying. Avoiding his name didn't protect me; it made me feel like he'd been erased.

I loved when friends said to me, "I was thinking about Michael today. Remember when he..." Then tell a story, share a memory, laugh about something ridiculous he'd done.

They kept him present and reminded me other people loved him too. Shared memories are a reminder you're not alone in this grief.

Don't Disappear After the Funeral

Grief doesn't stop after the funeral; it's just getting started.

The second month after Michael died was harder than the first. I felt like everyone had moved on except me.

I treasured the ones who kept calling or texting to check on me.

Please consider setting a reminder on your phone to check in with something as simple as, "Thinking of you today," or "Praying for you today." Don't be offended if your friend doesn't reply. If they're like me, sometimes I mentally couldn't.

Birthday of the person who died, anniversary of the death, holidays. Those days are brutal. These are great times to reach out.

Grief is a marathon, not a sprint. Your friend may need you longer than you think.

You Don't Need Perfect Words

Don't be afraid to say the wrong thing; there are no right words. Nothing you say will fix it, but your presence matters.

These words ministered to me so much; "I'm so sorry. This is terrible." "I don't know what to say, but I'm here." and "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Sometimes, sit in silence and let them cry. One friend came over with a box of tissues and handed them to me one at a time until the box was empty. She hugged me, then left. That was exactly what I needed.

Let your grieving friend be angry, numb, or whatever they are. You don't have to fix it.

Please try to remember these practical things to do: bring food, offer to do work, say their name, don't disappear, and be present.

Your grieving friend doesn't need perfection. They need you.

What's one practical thing someone did for you when you were grieving that really helped? Or what do you wish someone had done? Share in the comments. Your ideas might help someone else know how to show up.