When you hear that a loved one has died, there are usually two different reactions. The first is feeling numb and even shocked; your body feels stiff and uncomfortable because a paralyzing feeling is creeping up your spine. Or you may feel overwhelming sadness, which can only be released through your tear ducts. Death is a strange thing to comprehend because the person whom you loved is no longer there physically with you. You yourself are a unique person and so was the person who passed away. I think it’s interesting how our immediate responses are, “I’m sorry for your loss” or “He/she is at peace now." Those responses, while genuine, leave us and the recipient feeling possibly more troubled.

Many years ago, my grandfather passed away from poor health and old age. I was still in middle school and hadn't had much experience with death. A first, I felt nothing. Not a numb, paralyzed feeling, but just nothing significant. I comforted my mother, but other than that, I was okay. It wasn’t until a few weeks later when I burst into tears while looking at pictures of my grandpa and me together. It came on so suddenly, and I felt weird. It wasn't that I had “buried” my feelings, and that the dam finally broke. I had already accepted that he was gone, but I realized (with a bit of shame) that I had never fully understood how he had loved and cared for me. Going to his house was just a thing that I did with my mother. But now that it is just a memory, I appreciate those times so much more.

After the day that I cried, I haven’t cried for him since. Not in a bad way. I can think of my memories with him fondly and happily. What I’m saying is, it’s okay to be happy even after someone is gone. Not happy because they are gone, but happy because you will always have the honor of loving them and being loved by them. Whether you believe in the afterlife or not, it is at least fair to say that your existence and their existence in this life matters. Your relationship was important; the love you shared was reality. No one can take that away, not even death.

I respect that some of you may not be religious, but from my perspective, your loved one is never really gone. I wouldn’t call them “ghosts,” but their spirits can still see us flawed humans stumbling through life. I don’t feel sad that I never told my grandfather how I loved him because I can say it right now. I can shout it from a mountain or whisper it before I fall asleep — I know that he hears me.

So if someone tells me that a loved one has died, I don’t just say sorry. I am sorry, but that never seems like enough. I try my hardest to look them in the eye and tell them everything I just told you. For anyone who has lost a loved one, recently or long ago, believe me when I say that I am more than “just sorry.”