When my father died, my mother found herself alone for the first time in nearly 60 years. Since meeting at 18, they had done everything together—from college to first jobs to big moves—all underscored by a mutual thirst for adventure that took them around the world and back. Together they’d built a close-knit family, an inviting network of friends, and an enviable life filled with love, laughter, and shared dreams.

Then, in an instant, she was alone.

For me, my father’s death raised a challenge I hadn’t fully considered before: How do you help a surviving parent through their grief while working through your own? As a parent myself, I was prepared to help my young child navigate confusion and sadness. But what could—and what should—I do to support my mother?

If you’re facing this same question, know that you’re not alone. According to the American Psychological Association, grief often includes physiological distress, separation anxiety, confusion, and apprehension about the future. Intense grief can become life-threatening through disruption of the immune system, self-neglect, and even suicidal thoughts. Understanding this helped me recognize that supporting my mother wasn’t just about emotional comfort—it was about her health and survival.

The Dual Weight of Loss

When your mother or father dies, helping the surviving parent navigate their grief can be extraordinarily challenging. I knew it was my responsibility to step up—from ensuring her basic needs were met, to encouraging her to express her emotions, to ultimately standing by her as she began to move forward.

What I didn’t anticipate was how much I would struggle myself.

Research from the APA’s work on spousal loss and bereavement shows that 10-15% of bereaved individuals develop complicated reactions, including depression and prolonged grief disorder. Watching for these signs in my mother while processing my own loss felt like an impossible balancing act.

Practical Ways to Support a Grieving Parent

Through trial, error, and many tearful conversations, I learned what helped—and what didn’t.

1. Show Up Consistently: The National Institute on Aging notes that facing the future without a spouse can be especially frightening for those who have never lived alone. My mother had never paid a bill online, never slept in an empty house, never made dinner for one. Simply being present—physically or by phone—provided a lifeline during those disorienting early weeks.

2. Handle the Practical Details: Grief counselors emphasize that bereaved spouses often struggle with daily tasks like sleeping, eating, concentrating, and making decisions. I took over paperwork, coordinated with the funeral home, fielded phone calls, and stocked her refrigerator. These weren’t grand gestures—they were necessities that freed her to simply grieve.

3. Encourage—Don’t Force—Conversation: My mother needed to talk about my father. She needed to share memories, express regrets, and sometimes just say his name out loud. I learned to listen without trying to fix anything. The APA’s guidance on grief resilience confirms that helping loved ones process grief often means talking less and listening more.

4. Watch for Warning Signs: Grief experts note that the second year can actually be harder than the first. The initial shock wears off, friends and family return to their routines, and the bereaved person confronts the permanence of their loss. I stayed vigilant for signs of prolonged depression, social withdrawal, or physical decline—and wasn’t afraid to suggest professional support when needed.

5. Respect Their Timeline: There’s no schedule for grief. My mother didn’t need me to tell her when to clean out my father’s closet or when to stop setting his place at the table. Many clinicians now believe grief doesn’t progress in neat stages but rather in waves that gradually diminish in intensity. I learned to follow her lead, not impose my own expectations.

6. Help Them Reconnect Socially: The National Institute on Aging warns that widowed individuals, especially those who are retired, may become isolated and depressed. I gently encouraged my mother to accept invitations, join a support group for widows, and maintain the friendships she and my father had built together. Social connection became part of her healing.

Don’t Forget Yourself

Standing by your parent through this will likely be one of the hardest things you do in your entire life—but it’s also one of the most important journeys you’ll ever take. Know that everything you do is appreciated and needed, even if it’s never said.

And above all, be sure to take time for you.

You, too, have suffered a meaningful loss. Focusing entirely on your parent’s grief while ignoring your own can create a delayed grief reaction that complicates your healing later. Give yourself permission to cry, to feel angry, to miss your parent who died—even as you support the one who remains.

Moving Forward Together

My mother will never “get over” losing my father. After nearly 60 years together, that’s not how grief works. But with time, patience, and steady support, she has found a way to move forward—to honor his memory while building a life that is still meaningful, still connected, still her own.

And somewhere along the way, so did I.

Supporting her through grief didn’t take away from my own healing—it became part of it. In caring for her, I learned to let myself grieve too. In listening to her stories about my father, I found my own way to remember him.

If you’re walking this path with your parent, know that your presence matters more than you realize. You don’t need perfect words. You don’t need all the answers. You just need to show up, listen, and love them through the hardest chapter of their life—and in doing so, you may find your own way through yours.

Jaime Hollander/Carrie Phelps-Campbell 
Indiana Memorial Group Blog