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We’re Not Taught What to Do After They Die

  • Jul 16
  • 3 min read

Most of us grow up learning how to love people. Very few of us are taught what to do after they die. 


Many of you know my family lost my cousin Heather to suicide. Every year on her birthday, I light a candle and hold a conversation with her. Last year, she would have turned 50, and the loss felt much more raw and painful. I thought about all the times we joked when we were younger; how we’d grow old together, get married, have kids, and watch out for each other. I found myself talking to her. I said, “Heather, I’m sorry you’re not here. We were supposed to grow old together. I really miss you.”  


I know I’m not the only one who experiences this kind of pain, who still talks to someone they’ve lost. I think most of us find some way to continue the relationship. Dan Fisher and I were talking about this recently, and he shared how he stays connected to his father. 

After his father died, Dan found himself spending more time in the ocean. Surfing became a place where he could go with everything he was feeling, without having to explain it or make sense of it. One day, almost without really thinking about it, he wrote his father’s name on his surfboard and paddled out. He didn’t expect much; it was just a name on a board. But once he was out in the ocean, he started talking to his dad, telling him about his day, sharing things the way he used to. And instead of only feeling the loss, he felt close to his father again. It felt familiar and comforting. 


He still does this. When he’s out on the water, he talks to his father.  It’s become a way for him to stay connected, not just to the memory of his father, but to the relationship they had. The conversations didn’t stop when his father died; they’re still very much there. 


What connected with me about Dan’s story is how simple it is. He didn’t set out to create some big ritual or find the “right” way to grieve. He just did something that felt natural. And because of that, he found a way to stay connected to his father. I think this is where a lot of us get stuck. We start to wonder if what we’re doing is okay. Is it normal to talk to someone who’s not here anymore? There’s this pressure to move forward, to move on. But the connection to a loved one doesn’t just go away. It shows up: in a conversation, a place, a small ritual that doesn’t make sense to anyone else. 


For Dan, it’s the ocean. It’s being out on the water, saying his father’s name, sharing moments with him. That’s where Dan feels closest to his father now. And I think a lot of us are doing some version of that. We talk to our loved ones when something good happens. We think about what they would say. We hear their voice in our heads when we’re trying to make a decision or make sense of something. That relationship doesn’t just disappear. It’s still there, it just doesn’t look the way it used to. 


There’s no single way to do this. No right or wrong way to stay connected to someone you’ve lost. What matters is that it feels meaningful to you. For some, it might be as simple as lighting a candle. For others, it might be going back to a place that mattered. It might be writing to them, talking to them, or just sitting with the memory of them. These small acts don’t take away the grief. They don’t make the loss disappear. But they give us a way to still feel close to the people we miss. For me, it’s always been something simple. Heather, I’m sorry you’re not here. We were supposed to grow old together. I really miss you. 


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