A coworker loses a parent, a spouse, or a child. You hear the news between meetings, and within seconds you're running through what to say, what not to say, whether to say anything at all. Most of us freeze right there, not because we don't care, but because we're afraid of getting it wrong. So we say nothing, or we say something so careful it barely counts as saying anything.
That instinct to protect ourselves from saying the wrong thing is understandable. But it's based on a misunderstanding of what actually helps. Supporting a grieving coworker was never about finding the perfect sentence. It's about being willing to show up, imperfectly, when someone needs it most.
It helps to separate two things people often confuse: saying the right thing and showing up at all. A polished, careful condolence that takes three days to send says less than a clumsy one sent today. Grieving people remember who reached out, not the exact wording they used.
That's a relief, honestly. It means you don't need training, and you don't need to rehearse. You need to be willing to say something simple and mean it, even if it feels inadequate in the moment, which it almost always will. That feeling isn't a sign you're doing it wrong.
Researchers who study how people respond to bereaved friends and coworkers have found something consistent: most people genuinely want to help, but a surprising number of the comments meant to comfort land as unhelpful or even hurtful. Psychologist Camille Wortman's research on social support after loss found that attempts to find a silver lining, minimize the loss, or rush someone toward recovery tend to backfire, even when they come from real affection. What tends to help instead is much simpler: acknowledgment, without an agenda attached.
This matters because it reframes the fear itself. The risk was never that you'd lack the right words. It's that reaching for too many words, trying to fix, explain, or find meaning in the loss, can crowd out the one thing that helps: letting the person know you see what they're going through.
There's a related idea worth knowing, sometimes called continuing bonds, from grief researchers Dennis Klass, Phyllis Silverman, and Steven Nickman. Older models of grief treated it as something to “get over,” a clean break from the person who died. More recent research describes something different: grief as an ongoing, changed relationship with that person, not a finish line to cross. A coworker who still talks about someone months later, or keeps a photo at their desk, isn't stuck. They're carrying the relationship forward in a different form. Knowing that can change how you interpret what “normal” grief looks like in someone you work with.
A few things that tend to help, drawn from both research and the practical realities of a shared workplace:
The same principles hold outside of work. A neighbor who's just lost a parent, a friend going through a divorce, a family member grieving a pet; the instinct to say nothing out of fear of saying the wrong thing shows up everywhere loss does.
The same shift applies: trade the search for perfect words for a simple, honest acknowledgment. “I don't know what to say, but I'm thinking about you” is a complete sentence. It doesn't need anything added to it. And the same specific-offer principle holds, too: “I'll bring dinner over Tuesday” is easier for a grieving friend to accept than “let me know if you need anything.”
The next time you're not sure how to support a grieving coworker, friend, or family member, try asking yourself:
Supporting someone through grief, whether it's a coworker you see every day or a loved one further away, rarely asks for more than your honest presence. You don't have to get it exactly right. You just have to show up.
Whether you're supporting a grieving colleague, processing a loss of your own, or just not sure what to say, you don't have to figure it out alone. As a VITAL WorkLife member, register / log in to access confidential counseling, coaching, and well-being resources available to you and your family.
Disclaimer: This article is for general educational purposes and is not a substitute for professional medical or mental health advice, diagnosis, or treatment.