From people who have been through it

“I'm not going to tell you everything happens for a reason and it doesn't and but you can get through it. I did, and I'm not especially strong so keep one thing of theirs close. For me it's his jumper.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in May. The inquest. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are at the start of the year. Guilt for wishing it was over. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them so so I'll just say what happened to me: Mum died in March after a short illness was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok, not perfect, ok so you will be too, in your own time.”

“Please be gentle with yourself and I wasn't, and it made everything harder, what helped me was writing everything down before appointments, otherwise I forget it all, and talk to someone, even if it's just in here.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in November. Her mum still messages me. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I don't have advice. I just know the first week is strange and quiet and people say the wrong thing. For me it helped to leave her lead where it was for a while. Then one day I took it down and put it in a drawer. That was all I could do that day. If you're still stepping around the basket, that's alright. You don't have to move it yet. I still miss her. That hasn't changed but it's softer now.”

“When my dad died, I thought I would never feel normal again. And I was right, but also wrong. You don't feel normal, you feel different. The first months are the hardest. Accept help. My friend Mary brought me food, and I didn't want to eat it, but I did. Talk about your parent. Say their name. It helps. Don't worry if you cry in the supermarket. It happens. And if you have siblings, try to remember you are all hurting, even if you show it differently. Be patient with each other.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: my brother neer told anyone he was struggling was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are after the new year. Planning a funeral while he watches telly. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in January. The funeral was in April. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“You will get through the first anniversary. I do not know how, but you will. Some days you will not answer messages, and that is okay. Some days you will cry in the car. That is okay too. Just keep Abeer close and let your parents help. Do not be afraid to say his name. He was here. He matters. You matter. One day you will laugh again, and it will surprise you. That is not betrayal. That is life.”

“Please be gentle with yourself. I wasn't, and it made everything harder. I wrote them a letter and kept it in my bag for months. And talk to someone, even if it's just in here.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in August. Planning a funeral while he watches telly. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold. Praying for strength.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in May. My brother never told anyone he was struggling. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“The first time you forget she was ever different, that's the worst. I won't lie. It doesn't get easier. But you learn to live in the gaps. The crossword still helps. Coffee. The train. Small things. Don't expect anyone to understand. They won't. But you'll find your people. The ones who nod without saying anything. Hold onto them. And hold onto the good days. They come. Even now.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last week. A stillbirth at 36 weeks. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“to whoever needs this: I was where you are in may. our group chat with one less person. today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. it comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in January. My brother never told anyone he was struggling. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I'm not going to tell you everything happens for a reason and it doesn't so but you can get through it. I did, and I'm not especially strong. I take it a week at a time and A day at a time was too much pressure somehow.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in January. Grieving someone who is still here. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“For anyone just starting this: it is going to hurt like hell for a while. You might feel guilty about the things you didn't say or do. That is normal. But the guilt is not the whole story. The love is. Keep talking to them if you want. Keep their number in your phone. And find one person who will listen without trying to fix it. That helps more than the advice.”

“I'm not going to tell you everything happens for a reason. It doesn't, but you can get through it so I did, and I'm not especially strong so I tell people straight what I need now. They usually just don't know.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in October. His room is still the same. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are six weeks ago. Put our dog to sleep after 14 years. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“If you're just starting this, the one thing I'd say is: don't wait for the perfect moment to say what you need to say. My dad was still cracking jokes about the football two days before he went. I nearly didn't tell him I loved him because I thought there'd be another visit. There wasn't. And don't feel bad about planning the funeral early. It doesn't mean you've given up. It just means you're trying to make things easier for everyone later. Also, take the unpaid leave if you can. Work will still be there.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in February. His friends graduating. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are back in the summer. People saying at least it was early. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“If you're at the start of this, I won't pretend it's easy and the first few months were the worst of my life. But I'm writing this from the other side, and some days now I forget to be sad. I had to stop googling, it made everything worse so go slowly.”

“to whoever needs this: I was where you are in the spring. grieving someone who is still here. today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. it comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are around Easter. She was my best friend. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are back in the summer. Her name was going to be. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in February. Guilt about the last conversation. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last week. Looking after my parents now. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“If you're just starting this, the first thing I'd say is: the paperwork is not the grief, but it will keep dragging you back to it anyway. That's normal. Put the letters in one folder and deal with them on one set day a week. Tell your brother or sister what you need, even if it's just to sit in the same room. And when the ads come on, turn the radio off if you have to. It doesn't mean you're not coping. It means you loved her.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in August. My sister was my twin. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in January. Bleeding at work. Today I made breakfast, went to work and lughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in August. Nobody asks about the sibling. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: cooking for one was my lowest point. A year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“If you're just starting this, I want to say it's a strange kind of loss. You're grieving someone who is still here. That's allowed. Some days you'll be fine and then a song or a smell will hit you and you'll be back in the car crying. It's not linear. And if you have a sibling who doesn't help, try not to let it eat you up. You can't make them care. Just focus on the time you have. You won't regret being there.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are at the start of the year. People not knowing what to say. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in March. Scared to try again. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: my little brother died at 27 was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok and not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“Sorry if this is a lot. Please be gentle with yourself. I wasn't, and it made everything harder. I let myself be sad for an hour a day and then do something. It sort of works. And talk to someone, even if it's just in here.”

“I remember when Dad first got sick, I felt so alone. If you are starting this, know that the guilt you feel is normal. It does not make you a bad person. Find one person who gets it, even if it is someone online. And take photos of the good moments, even if they are rare. You will need them later. I am not going to say it is easy, but you can do it. I am here if you want to talk.”

“When my dad went into palliative care, I thought I had to be strong. I didn't. The waiting is the worst part. You don't have to fill every silence. Just be there. If you need to cry, cry in the car. If you need to laugh at something stupid on TV, laugh. It's not betrayal. Your person is still here. That's what matters. Don't plan too far ahead. Just get through today, then tomorrow. That sounds like something off a fridge magnet but it's the only thing that works. And find someone to talk to, even if it's just online. You're not the only one going through this.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: his children was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are just before Christmas. Clearing out Dad's house. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“If you're at the start of this, I won't pretend it's easy so the first few months were the worst of my life. But I'm writing this from the other side, and some days now I forget to be sad and I keep a list of good days on my phone so I can see them when it's bad. Go slowly.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are last year. Clearing out Dad's house. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I remember reading notes like this and not believing them. So I'll just say what happened to me: Mum died in March after a short illness was my lowest point, and a year later I'm ok. Not perfect. Ok. You will be too, in your own time.”

“I do not know what to say to you. I am three years ahead and I still do not have the right words. The first weeks you will be in a fog and people will say stupid things and you will forget half of it. That is normal. Do not let anyone tell you how to grieve. Some days you will laugh and then feel terrible. Laugh anyway. Keep something of your child out where you can see it. For me it is a hoodie on a chair. And if you can, find one person who has been there. Not to fix you. Just to sit with you in it.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in the summer. My due date coming up. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are just before Christmas. Her phone still charging on the shelf. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“If you're at the start of this, I won't pretend it's easy so the first few months were the worst of my life so but I'm writing this from the other side, and some days now I forget to be sad. I keep a list of good days on my phone so I can see them when it's bad so go slowly.”

“Sorry, this got long. To whoever needs this: I was where you are last week. The funeral was in April. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“I'm only a bit further along than you. My dad died in August and some days I still pick up the phone to tell him something. What has helped: let people bring food, say yes to lifts, and don't clear the house alone if you can help it. The 5am phone call plays in my head but less often now. It doesn't go away, but it gets quieter. Keep a jumper. Cry in the car. That's allowed.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in August. Planning a funeral while he watches telly. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“To whoever needs this: I was where you are in November. Work gave me one day off. Today I made breakfast, went to work and laughed at something. It comes back slowly, like feeling in your fingers after the cold.”

“It's going to hurt. That's normal. You'll forget for a minute and then remember and it hits you again. That's normal too. Don't let anyone tell you to get over it. And if you have siblings, try to talk. I didn't and now we don't. Just keep going. Even if it's just a slow run on a Saturday.”