When Grief Doesn’t Follow the Rules

Introduction: The Myth of the “Right Way” to Grieve

If there’s one sentence I’ve heard more than any other during my years as a funeral director, it’s this: “I thought I’d be doing better by now.”

Grief carries a quiet, unspoken pressure—an expectation that it should unfold neatly, methodically, or at least predictably. Many people assume grief has rules: stages, timetables, emotions that should follow one another in logical order.

But grief laughs at structure.

It doesn’t arrive on schedule, and it certainly doesn’t leave on one. It comes in waves, storms, whispers, earthquakes—and sometimes, it shows up long after the world assumes you’ve “moved on.”

Over the years, I’ve watched grief manifest in thousands of different ways, each one unique, each one valid. No two losses have ever looked the same. This blog post is about peeling back the myths and telling the truth: Grief does not follow rules. And that’s not a failure— it’s the human experience.

1. The Stages of Grief Are Not a Checklist

Most people have heard of the Kübler-Ross stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. These concepts were groundbreaking when introduced, but they were never meant to be a strict sequence.

Yet many families quietly treat them like a syllabus.

I once met with a woman planning her husband’s funeral. As we talked about obituary wording, service details, and music, she kept shaking her head, frustrated.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “I went through denial and anger. Why am I back at anger again? Shouldn’t I be in acceptance by now?”

She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Nothing had “gone backward.” Her grief was alive, and responding to each new reality she faced.

Grief is not linear. It loops, circles, retreats, and explodes. Some people feel anger first. Some never feel denial. Some jump between emotions like lightning strikes.

There is no wrong order. There is no wrong timeline. There is no wrong response.

2. The Pressure to “Be Strong” Hurts More Than It Helps

Families often apologize to me for crying.

They’ll wipe their tears quickly, saying, “I’m sorry—I’m usually stronger than this,” as if grief has a dress code they’re expected to follow. As if breaking down means they’re failing.

One afternoon, a son walked into the arrangement room with shoulders squared, jaw clenched, completely stoic. He sat down, opened the folder of information he needed to provide, and very calmly stated: “I’m not going to cry. I’m the strong one in my family.”

Not ten minutes later, he was sobbing into his hands. Not because he was weak. But because he was human.

Strength is not the ability to avoid emotion. Strength is the willingness to feel it.

No rule says you must be composed, steady, or brave. You don’t earn extra credit for holding it together. Your grief doesn’t make you weak. It makes you a person who loved deeply.

3. Grief Doesn’t Expire—Even When Other People Think It Should

One of the loneliest experiences in grief is the moment when the world moves on—but you don’t.

At the funeral home, the busiest period for sympathy, support, and check-ins is usually the first week or two after a death. Then, slowly, the calls stop. The cards stop. People assume you’re “adjusting.”

Meanwhile, anniversaries creep in quietly. Birthdays hurt. Small, insignificant moments hit you like a landslide.

Years ago, a woman came to pick up her husband’s thumbprint jewelry. It had been almost two years since he passed. As I handed her the small velvet bag, she broke down. “I thought I was over this,” she whispered. “But holding this feels like it all just happened yesterday.”

She wasn’t “back at the beginning.” Nothing was wrong with her timeline. Love doesn’t expire. So grief doesn’t either. It simply changes shape over time—sometimes softening, sometimes sharpening, always reminding us of what mattered.

4. Unexpected Triggers Are Part of the Journey

Grief often shows up uninvited.

You can be grocery shopping, feeling relatively okay, and suddenly a familiar cologne, a favorite cereal, or even a particular song playing faintly over the store speakers sends you spiraling.

One family I served shared that their father loved the Johnny Cash song “Ring of Fire.” He sang it loudly—off-key, joyfully, and constantly. After he passed, they thought hearing that song would devastate them. Surprisingly, it didn’t.

But months later, they found themselves crying in the middle of a garden center because they spotted a specific type of yellow rose he always planted every spring.

It wasn’t the big, dramatic triggers that broke them. It was the quiet, personal ones. Grief has a way of finding you in the small details—the ones woven into everyday life.

5. You Don’t Have to Feel Sad All the Time

One of the most common misconceptions about grief is the belief that you must be miserable to prove you cared. But joy can coexist with grief. Laughter can coexist with loss. Moments of peace don’t invalidate pain.

I once directed a service where the family insisted on telling funny stories. At first, they felt guilty for even suggesting humor at a funeral. But their loved one had been a prankster, a warm soul who always made them laugh.

During the service, the room was bursting with laughter as memories were shared. Later, one of the daughters approached me and said, “I forgot we were allowed to feel joy today.”

Grief is not a punishment. You don’t have to earn your love by suffering endlessly. Joy is a sign of healing—not disrespect.

6. Anticipatory Grief Doesn’t Make the Loss Easier

Many believe that when death is expected—after illness, old age, or long-term caregiving—grief becomes gentler. It doesn’t. It simply starts earlier.

A man I worked with lost his wife after a long battle with cancer. He told me he felt guilty because he wasn’t “devastated” the way he expected.

“I cried so much before she died,” he said. “I think my grief started months ago.”

He assumed this meant something was wrong with him. But anticipatory grief is just as real, just as heavy, and just as emotionally draining. Your heart can grieve long before a person is gone. It doesn’t reduce the pain of the final goodbye—it simply spreads the sorrow across a wider stretch of time.

7. Grief Can Affect Your Body in Surprising Ways

Many people don’t realize how physical grief can be. It can disrupt sleep, appetite, concentration, immunity, and energy. It can cause headaches, chest tightness, or fatigue that doesn’t make sense.

I’ve watched families come in for arrangements looking pale, exhausted, and almost dazed. They often say things like: “I feel sick.” “I can’t think straight.” “Why am I so tired?”

Because grief is not just emotional. It’s also biological. Your nervous system is under pressure. Your hormones shift. Your sleep cycles break. Your body holds trauma and love in equal measure.

No rule says grief stays in your heart. It lives in your body too.

8. Every Grief Story Is Unique—Even Within the Same Family

One of the most important lessons I’ve learned is this: Two people can lose the same loved one and grieve completely differently. Siblings may react differently. Spouses may grieve at different speeds. Parents and children may seem out of sync. This doesn’t mean one person cared more or less.

I once met a family where the adult daughter handled every detail—obituary, clothing, casket, service arrangements. Her brother sat silently, staring at the floor the entire time.

When they left the room, the daughter sighed and said, “I wish he would help. It feels like I’m the only one hurting.”

Later that afternoon, the brother returned alone with a box filled with letters and old photographs, wanting help choosing which ones to display. He had been grieving deeply the entire time—just differently.

There are no rules for how grief must look. No one owes the world a specific reaction.

9. Grief Doesn't Mean You Must Let Go Completely

Many people fear that healing means forgetting. That acceptance means erasing. That moving forward means leaving someone behind.

But grief can become something else—something quieter, gentler, more integrated. You don’t have to stop talking to them. You don’t have to stop visiting their grave. You don’t have to stop celebrating birthdays or anniversaries. You don’t have to stop saying “I miss you.” Love continues. Connection continues. Memory continues.

There is no rule that says you must “let go.” You simply learn to carry the love differently.

10. You Are Allowed to Create Your Own Rules

In nearly two decades of sitting with grieving families, I’ve learned that the healthiest healing comes when people allow themselves freedom:

• Freedom to cry

• Freedom not to cry

• Freedom to talk

• Freedom to be silent

• Freedom to celebrate

• Freedom to mourn quietly

• Freedom to step away

• Freedom to revisit memories

• Freedom to build rituals that feel personal

There is no universal playbook.

You are allowed to grieve in the way that fits your heart—not anyone else’s expectations.

Personal Story: The Most Unpredictable Grief I Ever Witnessed

Years ago, a family came in after the sudden passing of their mother. Her three adult children were sitting together, but each one was experiencing grief in completely opposite ways.

The oldest daughter was furious—at the doctors, at the world, at everything. Her son was numb, almost detached, speaking in short sentences. The youngest daughter was inconsolable, trembling as she tried to complete paperwork.

At one point, she asked me, “Are we doing this wrong? Should we be feeling the same thing?”

No. They were each grieving in the exact way their hearts needed.

During the service, the three siblings stood together to share memories. And even then, their grief showed up differently: One laughed. One cried. One spoke quietly, voice steady but eyes full. Their mother would have recognized all of them in those moments. Grief reveals our individuality. It does not require conformity.

How to Support Yourself When Grief Breaks the Rules

Here are gentle reminders for anyone navigating unpredictable grief:

1. Let your emotions come without judgment.

Whatever you feel is allowed.

2. Ask for support—professional or personal—when needed.

Individual therapy, support groups, and medical care can provide grounding and human contact.

3. Build small rituals that comfort you.

Lighting a candle, journaling, talking to your loved one, or visiting a meaningful place.

4. Give your body care.

Hydrate, rest, eat, move gently. Give yourself grace.

5. Accept that grief comes in waves.

You are not failing when a new wave hits.

6. Communicate openly with those grieving beside you.

You may each need different things at different times.

Conclusion: Grief Is Not Something to Master—It’s Something to Honor

There is no “correct” way to grieve. No timeline. No measurable progress. No finish line.

Your grief is as unique as your relationship with the person you lost.

If grief has broken all the rules for you, please know this:

You are not doing it wrong. You are grieving beautifully, honestly, and humanly.