Grief Isn’t Linear — Even for Professionals

When You Think You Should Be “Past This”

There is an unspoken expectation placed on those of us who work in death care: That we understand grief. We know the terminology. We’ve studied the stages. We’ve comforted thousands of families. We’ve spoken the words “what you’re feeling is normal” more times than we can count.

And yet—when grief enters our own lives, it rarely follows the rules we intellectually know so well.

One day, you’re functioning. The next, you’re undone by something small. A song "you’ve heard a hundred times." A name that feels too familiar. A case that mirrors your own loss just enough to knock the breath from your chest.

And then comes the quiet, heavy thought many professionals, in the death care industry, carry but rarely say out loud: “I should be further along than this.”

But grief doesn’t care what you know. It doesn’t follow timelines. And it certainly doesn’t move in a straight line.

The Myth of “Progress” in Grief

In our industry, grief is often discussed as a journey—something with a beginning, middle, and eventual sense of resolution.

But real grief doesn’t behave that way. There is no steady upward climb toward “better.” There are no permanent milestones. There is no finish line.

Instead, grief loops. It revisits. It surprises.

You can feel peaceful for months, then suddenly find yourself right back in the ache—confused by how intense it feels again.

We, in this industry, often interpret this as failure. “Didn’t I already work through this?” “Why does this still hurt?” “What’s wrong with me?”

Nothing is wrong. This is grief doing what grief does.

Knowing the Language of Grief Doesn’t Protect You From It

There’s a particular kind of frustration that comes with grieving when you work in death care. You know the theories. You know the psychology. You know what you would tell a family in the same situation. But knowing doesn’t equal immunity.

Grief doesn’t soften because you’ve stood in arrangement rooms. It doesn’t lighten because you’ve guided others through loss. And it doesn’t behave more “appropriately” just because you’re a professional.

In fact, sometimes it feels heavier—because you do understand how deep it can go.

The Guilt of Grieving “Out of Order”

One of the hardest parts of non-linear grief is the guilt that accompanies it.

Feeling okay… then not. Laughing one day… breaking down the next. Believing you’re healing… then feeling like you’ve gone backward.

Professionals often judge themselves harshly for this. We expect consistency. We expect emotional regulation. We expect to be “stronger by now.”

But grief doesn’t unfold in stages you check off and leave behind. You don’t graduate from sadness.
You don’t “complete” mourning. You don’t fail because something resurfaces.

Grief isn’t a staircase. It’s a tide. It can roar in and turn you upside down before you know it.

When Work Triggers the Parts You Thought Were Settled

In death care, we don’t get to choose when grief shows up.

It appears in:

• A case that mirrors your personal loss
• A family dynamic that feels familiar
• A parent your age
• A child who reminds you of someone you love
• A song played during a service you weren’t expecting to affect you

Suddenly, the emotional distance you usually rely on disappears. And you’re left navigating two realities at once: the professional role you must fulfill—and the personal grief that just reawakened.

This is where non-linear grief becomes especially difficult for professionals. You don’t have the luxury of stepping away every time something resurfaces. You still have families to serve. Arrangements to complete. Composure to maintain.

And so grief gets pushed aside again—until it finds another way back in.

The Pressure to Be “Good at Grief”

There is an assumption—sometimes from others, sometimes from ourselves—that because we work in death care, we should be better at grief. More composed. More accepting. More grounded.

But grief is not a skill you master. It’s an experience you endure. You can be compassionate and still struggle. You can be emotionally intelligent and still be blindsided. You can be deeply experienced and still feel lost.

Being “good at grief” is not a real thing. Being human is.

Healing Is Not a Straight Line—And That’s Not a Setback

One of the most damaging beliefs professionals carry is that emotional setbacks mean something is wrong. That returning pain means failure. That tears mean regression. That exhaustion means weakness.

But healing isn’t linear. It expands and contracts. It deepens and softens. It revisits old places with new understanding.

Sometimes grief comes back not because you haven’t healed—but because you’re strong enough now to feel it differently. And sometimes it returns simply because love doesn’t disappear.

Giving Yourself the Grace You Offer Others

Think about how you speak to families. You tell them there is no timeline. You remind them grief changes shape. You normalize the ups and downs.

Now ask yourself:

Why don’t you deserve the same grace? Why do you hold yourself to a standard you would never impose on someone else?

Non-linear grief is not a failure of coping. It’s evidence of a connection. Of meaning. Of love that mattered.

Learning to Work With Grief, Not Against It

For many professionals, the goal becomes learning how to coexist with grief instead of trying to “resolve” it.

This might look like:

• Allowing certain cases to affect you
• Recognizing when you need rest instead of pushing through
• Acknowledging emotional fatigue without judgment
• Creating private rituals or reflections
• Writing when words feel stuck
• Taking moments of pause instead of suppressing feelings

Grief doesn’t need to be eliminated to be manageable.

Sometimes it simply needs space.

Supporting Yourself in a Profession That Rarely Does

Death care professionals are excellent at supporting others. We are not always supported ourselves.

Non-linear grief becomes harder when:

• There is no place to talk about it
• There is no language for professional vulnerability
• There is pressure to remain “composed”
• Emotional labor is invisible
• Burnout is normalized

Recognizing that grief comes in waves can be the first step toward advocating for yourself—quietly, gently, and without shame.

Where Gentle Tools Can Help

For some professionals, having a private, non-clinical space to process grief can make a difference. Not therapy. Not supervision. Not another professional responsibility.

Just a place to reflect—without expectations.

A grief journal can offer:

• A way to release thoughts without explanation
• A place to acknowledge setbacks without judgment
• Space to recognize patterns in emotional waves
• A reminder that grief doesn’t need fixing

When used privately and gently, tools like this aren’t about “working on grief”—they’re about allowing it.

Grief Is Not a Line — It’s a Relationship

Perhaps the most important thing professionals learn over time is this: Grief doesn’t move forward because we push it. It changes because we change.

The grief you feel today is not the same grief you felt at the beginning. Even when it feels just as strong: it carries different meanings, different awareness, and different layers.

And sometimes, grief returning is not a step backward—it’s a reminder of how deeply you are capable of caring.

Author’s Note

If you are a funeral professional reading this and feeling discouraged because your grief doesn’t behave the way you think it should, please hear this clearly:

You are not broken.
You are not failing.
You are not “bad at grief.”

You are human in a profession that asks you to witness loss repeatedly, often without space to process your own.

Grief isn’t linear—not for families, and not for us.

And the fact that you continue to show up, even when grief circles back, speaks not to weakness—but to extraordinary resilience and compassion.

— Karen Roldan
Licensed Funeral Director, Embalmer, and Pre-Need Counselor
Creator of Behind the Funeral