Every single person experiences loss at some point in their life. It’s part of what it means to be human. For me, my most recent losses happened this past January. During the first week of the last semester of my degree, I lost my grandmother and my beloved dog within days of each other.
At the beginning of January, my grandmother’s health had taken a turn for the worse. She was no longer awake or responding to treatment, and she gradually moved to palliative care. At the same time, I was trying to navigate studying for an exam while spending the last moments I could with her and trying to get through the start of the semester. In all of this chaos, my dog’s health had also declined.
Many people dismiss the loss of a pet as minimal, brushing it off by saying things like oh, it’s just a dog. However, to quote French poet Anatole France, “Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.”
For me, that animal was Duke. He was a crusty senior Sharpei that we adopted with my other dog in 2021, and oh my goodness, I loved him to pieces. Duke was a once-in-a-lifetime dog, my kindred spirit. He was uncannily human-like: he would never bark if he wanted something — he would just tap you or knock on the door.
He helped me cope with the loneliness of starting university during a pandemic. He was wildly stubborn; I would even dare to say he had more emotional intelligence than some humans. Every night, he would curl up with me on the couch, snuggling into my legs with his gentle snoring. My family used to joke that he was like Carl from the movie UP — curmudgeonly on the outside, with a heart of gold on the inside.
His health started declining in December, and he could no longer go on the walks he loved so much. One night, my dad texted me when I was at work that there was something very wrong with him, and by the following morning, he was gone.
A few days after we lost Duke, my grandmother passed away. I knew I was supposed to feel prepared for it, but once it happened, I felt like I was thrown into freefall. I didn’t know how I could continue going through each day when I felt like pieces of myself were missing. But as much as I wanted to crawl into bed and never emerge again, that wasn’t possible. I needed to keep going, finish my degree and stay on top of my responsibilities.
This got me thinking… I know I was not alone in experiencing loss as a university student, but navigating that while having other responsibilities like school can make it feel more difficult. So, to better understand the ins and outs of grief, I reached out to grief expert and co-founder of the organization Grief Literacy, Rachelle Bensoussan.
What is grief, anyway?
Grief is not just a response to death. Grief is actually a whole-body response to loss of many forms, including physical, emotional, spiritual, and social. According to Bensoussan, loss is the severing from something or someone to which we’ve held a great attachment. Our attachments are imperative to our survival, and they’re constantly being severed. When these attachments get severed, the body enters an involuntary response called grief.
We often associate grief with significant losses, like losing a loved one, but it can also happen with smaller losses. For instance, someone may feel a sense of grief from not getting into a school they really wanted to get into or realizing they aren’t able to keep up their grades due to new circumstances.
“A lot of people will say, ‘Oh, I’m not grieving. I haven’t lost anyone.’ And what I have to say is that grief doesn’t give a sh*t. If you acknowledge it or not. Grief exists. It doesn’t require your participation. It doesn’t require your consent. It doesn’t require your acknowledgement,” Bensoussan said in an interview with Her Campus at Toronto MU.
“It’s happening to you and in your body regardless. Where we go really, really wrong culturally is that because we don’t understand grief or know how to recognize it or know how to name it,” she said.
Bensoussan said that one major misconception about grief is that it’s time-limited. While grief can be dynamic and complex, it never ends.
“Our capacity to be with our grief grows and changes,” Bensoussan said.
So, while the first year of grief may not look the same as the fifth or twentieth year, it never goes away.
Bensoussan also explained that people tend to think grief is an emotion, but it’s actually a much larger experience. While feelings may be part of grief, grief as a whole is not transient like our feelings are and impacts many different aspects of ourselves.
“We need to orient ourselves and treat grief, as it does that, not just as an emotion,” she said.
What are some ways to cope with grief after a loss?
Grief is an unavoidable experience, but there are strategies to help you cope while experiencing a loss. Bensoussan said one way is to seek support from people who have experienced the same thing. People often bring their grief to those who don’t necessarily have or understand that experience, which can be harmful.
“Go find your people. That’s where you want to bring your grief to. That’s where you want to share it,” Bensoussan said.
Bensoussan said that taking grief literacy training is helpful. Grief literacy is a movement aimed at providing a better understanding of grief and loss and helping people better support themselves and others experiencing grief.
“The sooner you know that everything you’re experiencing is real, the easier it will be to just experience and then get the sh*t done that needs to get done,” she said.
Bensoussan is also a big proponent of taking breaks. We often forget that there is still a lot of life ahead, and it isn’t a race.
“I really advise people to just like pause. It’s really, really okay to pause and say, ‘Something significant has happened here. And I need a minute. I just need a minute.’ And there’s nothing wrong with that,” she said.
How can you help someone going through a loss?
We all know someone who has experienced loss in some form. Maybe we have ourselves. But knowing how to offer support can be difficult, especially if you’ve never had that experience.
According to Bensoussan, we tend to think that we need to fix the situation and make a person feel better, but we need to understand that their pain is not optional. Bensoussn said it’s important to have the courage to be humble. This might be admitting your discomfort and recognizing that you may have never had that experience, but asking the person what you can do to best support them and letting them know you’re there for them.
“I always say, just have the courage to be honest, have the courage to be humble and say, ‘I don’t know what to say, I don’t know. If you have any tips for me, I’m all ears because I want to be here for you, and I love you,'” Benssousan said.
Phrases we think are comforting, like “At least the person went peacefully,” “They’re in a better place,” or “They lived a long life,” are not very helpful, she said.
“You’re saying that for yourself to make you feel more comfortable in the situation. It’s not about the bereaved person at all. So reframe it and refocus by centring the bereaved person, asking, acknowledging, showing up,” Benssousan said.
For me, it comes in waves. I feel it when I remember that my grandmother will not see me graduate or who I’ll become. Or when the weather warmed up and all of the pawprints my dog left in the snow melted.
I felt it the other day when I got accepted to law school, and I realized my grandmother would never know. Or when I told my brother, and he said, “Duke would be proud of you.”
It’s not easy, but I know I’m getting through it, and so will you.