We all experience a major loss at one point or another. It could be the loss of a loved one; the end of a marriage, relationship, or friendship; the end of a dream or goal; the loss of a job or career; or a decline in health or finances.
As you know, in February 2024 I lost Steve, my husband of 40 years. During his last several months—and since then—I’ve experienced and learned a lot. This blog post provides some of what I’ve learned about grieving. As usual, I did some research….
Since we’re all unique individuals, each path through grieving is unique. But grief experts have identified general stages of grief related to any major loss. You’ve probably heard of Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’ “5 Stages of Grief.” Well now not only is it proposed that there are “7 Stages of Grief,” but there are several other models that provide more comprehensive information about the grief process. There’s also a new revolutionary take on grief that doesn’t involve stages.
Had I known about all of this earlier in my grieving process, I believe my path might have been a bit easier—I’ll explain later. So even if you don’t need this info now, I suggest you tuck it away for future use. (Sorry, it’s a long post but there’s a lot to say, and I believe it’s important.)
Stages of Grief—The Various Models
Swiss-born psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, M.D. formulated her “5 Stages of Grief” in the 1960s based on interviews with 200 terminally ill patients. The stages are Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance.
Kübler-Ross’ work produced a cultural shift in conversations about the end-of-life process and approaches to deal with it. But, although her model was intended to help patients deal with terminal illness, eventually it became the gold standard to describe the grief process for any significant loss.
Recently, the “5 Stages” became “7 Stages” when two additional stages (Shock and Reconstruction) were added by David Kessler, a grief expert who co-authored two books with Kübler-Ross in the 1990s. But in recent years, the 7 Stages model has been increasingly criticized and several other models loosely based on the 7 Stages have sprung up.1
The stages models all agree that the grief process is fluid: the stages don’t happen in order, you might bounce around and repeat some; you might experience one, some, all, or none of them; they might shift for you as frequently as minute-by-minute; and you might experience one or more while primarily in another. It’s a complex, unpredictable, but universal process—even if unique and intensely personal.
The Stages
To me the most comprehensive stages model is posted on the Resilience Lab website.2 It proposes slightly different stages and, although there are plugs for their online therapy services throughout the article, each stage description is quite detailed and informative.
The following is a summary of their 7 Stage model (parts of the description, including sections entitled “Examples and Symptoms” and “Potential Feelings” are combined and summarized here in parentheses and italics):
- Shock and Denial. Shock: the mind’s “first layer of defense,” provides a buffer to overwhelm; denial: a coping mechanism, enables a more gradual processing of the loss. (confusion and disorientation, emotional detachment, it all feels surreal)
- Pain and Guilt. Pain: intense and raw at the full realization of the loss; guilt: regret over things said/done or not said/done, or not appreciating who/what was lost before they were lost. The most emotionally demanding part of the grieving process but critical for healing.(uncontrollable crying, a feeling of emptiness, a profound sense of sadness, a deep yearning for who/what was lost)
- Anger and Bargaining. Anger: directed at somebody, may seem irrational or misplaced but provides a critical release valve for pent up frustration or pain; bargaining: reflects a struggle to regain some semblance of control in an overwhelmingly uncontrolled situation, e.g., making promises to a higher power to get relief from the pain or a return to what was lost. (intense anger, feelings of helplessness and frustration)
- Depression. Depression: a natural/appropriate response to loss, and a necessary step in healing. A time of deep sorrow and reflection that emerges as the initial shock subsides and the reality of the loss sinks in. Overwhelm at the minutia of everyday life. (hopelessness, a feeling of emptiness, little/no pleasure in activities once enjoyed, change in appetite, change in sleep patterns resulting in persistent fatigue, a sense of loneliness and isolation—disconnected from others)
- The Upward Turn. A significant but subtle shift in the grieving process. The intense pain and turmoil gradually shift into calm and more stable emotions. The reality of the loss becomes more manageable. The overwhelming sadness and despair begin to fade. (more regular sleep patterns and improved energy levels, more positive emotions and thoughts, a renewed sense of hope and optimism, engaging in social activities again, a return to hobbies and interests, ability to cherish memories of what was lost without feeling overwhelming sadness)
- Reconstruction and Working Through. Intense emotions of grief begin to shift to a more rational, pragmatic, problem-solving mindset. There’s a growing feeling of empowerment and control, and a shift into making plans and setting goals for the future. (more stable sleep patterns and appetite, a return to previous energy levels, feelings of hope and determination, ability to talk about the loss constructively, finding meaning and purpose)
- Acceptance and Hope. A profound shift in the grieving process, there’s a sense of peace, of coming to terms with the loss, and looking towards the future with hope. (a return to normal health patterns, more consistent moments of calm/stability, engaging in new activities, a renewed sense of purpose and meaning)
Yes, Unique Stages
I actually began grieving before Steve died—when the end was an imminent “when” not “if” beginning during his three week stay in the Mayo Clinic in December 2023. But I experienced no denial or bargaining—I accepted that what was happening was simply our reality. Neither did I experience anger—in my spiritual belief system each of us has a Path, and how could I be angry if this was Steve’s Path? I did experience “situational depression” in subsequent months.
Even though it has felt like I’ve had only two stages of “numb” and then “not as numb,” in retrospect, I’ve experienced basically all of the above symptoms and feelings. I’ve kind of bounced around them all, but they have loosely aligned with the stages. And, again in retrospect, I have experienced a definite albeit halting progression through the process. Annoyingly, throughout it all, I’ve experienced “trauma brain” or “widow’s brain” (trouble concentrating, memory issues, and not thinking clearly).
Now, as of seven weeks ago, the one year “anniversary” of Steve’s death has passed—the last of the “firsts” without him. Quite unexpectedly, I experienced a sense of completion that day. It was a huge turning point for me. I observe that I now feel a new sense of optimism—that I can, indeed, create a new life since my old life is over, never to return. I’m starting to socialize again, checking out local classes and activities, exploring opportunities to volunteer, and even doing embroidery again—something I couldn’t concentrate enough to do even just nine weeks ago.
Although my grief process was complicated by a knee replacement in December 2024, I believe that according to the definitions above, I’m generally in Stage 7. I’ve read “You never get over grief. You learn to live with it.” I will always miss Steve but I realize now that it’s time for me to create my new life without him.
All of this is to say that my process has, indeed, been unique to me. And your process will be unique to you. I suggest you don’t expect specific stages. And don’t expect to feel any particular emotions or reactions at any particular time. For example, contrary to my expectation—and unlike some widows, I feel nothing towards Steve’s ashes. To me, they’re not him.
So whatever you feel, think, and experience while grieving is completely normal—for you. (NOTE: Just be aware that if your symptoms and situational depression become persistent, disabling, and interfere with daily functioning, you may be experiencing “complicated grief” which may require professional intervention.)
But a New Approach to Grieving…
In her landmark book “It’s OK That You’re Not OK,” Megan Devine provides an entirely new approach to grief at the loss of a loved one. Devine has experienced both sides of grief as a therapist and also having witnessed first hand the drowning of her beloved partner.
She posits that there’s nothing “wrong” about grief. That despite our culture being so intent on fixing anything that’s broken, some things—like grief—can’t be fixed.
Likewise, grief isn’t a disease that needs to be cured, a problem to be solved, something to be overcome, or something you can be cheered out of. Rather, she posits that it’s a natural response to loss and can be integrated and carried with you as you create a new life.
She actually recommends doing away with stages and timelines. Instead, she writes that what the grieving person really needs is somebody to “witness” their grief—to simply listen:
“It seems counterintuitive, but the way to truly be helpful to someone in pain is to let them have their pain. Let them share the reality of how much this hurts, how hard this is, without jumping in to clean it up, make it smaller, or make it go away.”
My Bottomline
I think there are guidance and comfort to be found in both the stages-of-grief models as well as Devine’s work. I just wish I had known all of this during this past year:
* Being better able to identify specific emotions as described in the stages-of-grief models might have helped me understand it all better, that I wasn’t “crazy” as in the book entitled “You’re not crazy, You’re grieving.”
* Knowing about Devine’s work might have helped me not view myself as broken and needing to be “fixed” or “cured.” That grief wasn’t something I had to eventually just “get over.” And that there is no set timeline involved.
But the bottomline for me is that as painful as any loss is—whether it’s a loved one, a pet, a job or career, a goal, a life path, etc.—I believe it indicates that we are living life full out. That we have loved and been loved. That we have made a commitment to that loved one, job, goal, etc. and worked to nurture it.
I think this love and commitment are awesome and beautiful because they’re Humanity at its purest and best.
Besides, in the event of loss of a loved one, if Oneness then a lost loved one is still with you—just on a different plane. But always also in your heart.
🥰
BTW1—My deep gratitude to everybody who has supported me through my grieving process, especially:
I’ve had a “committed listener” as Devine suggests. My listener doesn’t try to cheer me out of my grieving, or say any of the platitudes well-meaning people say because they don’t know what else to say. When I share a particularly painful experience, feeling, or thought, she listens and simply responds along the lines of “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.” Our conversations also give me the opportunity to just chat about everyday things in our lives—which gives me a sense of normalcy. I am forever grateful for her help and support. Likewise, to my writing group “warrior goddesses” (and our fearless leader who has to deal with our antics). You all give me the space to blubber when needed, celebrate my triumphs when they happen, and support me in writing my “story.” 🤪 And all the laughing we do has REALLY helped—and continues to help. Love you!
BTW2: This post is published on what would have been Steve’s 82nd birthday. To commemorate him, please do a “random act of kindness or beauty” today.
P.S. If you’re grieving a loss, take a look at David Kessler’s website grief.com for a wide array of really helpful resources.
P.P.S. Shortly after Steve died, a friend of mine lost her husband to a sudden heart attack. He went to bed and never woke up. And I wondered which is worse: death after a long, lingering disease OR an out-of-the-blue sudden death? I came to the conclusion that I think it doesn’t matter. The loss of a loved one (including a beloved pet), is traumatic and painful for those left behind. I think it’s a waste of energy to compare the circumstance of my loss to another’s. It’s of no use to either feel gratitude because my circumstance wasn’t as “bad” as theirs—and then guilt about feeling that gratitude, or to feel envy or resentment because my loss was “worse.” Loss is loss—no matter the circumstances. And it’s painful.
Footnotes:
1 Kübler-Ross Stages of Dying and Subsequent Models of Grief
2 Beyond the 7 Stages of Grief: Examples & What to Expect”—and check out other articles on the Thought Lab page of the Resilience Lab website.
Your Path to Oneness 