Grieving Someone Who’s Still Alive
Hi there, I’m back again. Blogging feels a little easier this time around. It’s funny how, once you release the pressure on yourself, the words start to come more naturally. I’m going through some difficult personal things at the moment, and writing here has been both calming and cathartic. It feels like I’m having a conversation with you, and I hope you feel that too.
Today’s post is about a form of grief many people don’t know exists: anticipatory grief. It’s been a quiet companion in my life for years, and I want to share what it looks like for me, in the hope it helps others feel less alone. If these topics feel too heavy, I completely understand if you choose not to read further.
But if you’re curious to know more about anticipatory grief, my lived experience, and what I’m working through, grab a refreshment (and a snack, I’m obsessed with digestive biscuits at the moment! 🫖) and spend the next few moments reading with me.
Jump to a section that interests you:
A Moment I Didn’t Think I’d Share
I’m an open book. I started my blog at age 13, and since then, I’ve documented most of the highs and lows of my life. My blog has been my haven during some of the most challenging moments, and I’ve shared so many insights into my deepest, darkest thoughts. Right now, my blog looks a little bare because I’ve decided to do a reset and click the restart button, so I can align content best principles with where I’m at in my life right now.
With that said, I didn’t know if I would ever write a piece of content like this, regardless of how confident I am as an oversharer. But do you know what inspired me to sit down and write this? I saw an incredible post on LinkedIn about grieving someone who is alive, and although it wasn’t directly aligned with my own lived experience, it struck a chord with me. It inspired me, and it made me feel less alone — the power of lived experience, right there (feeling less alone after reading someone else’s personal experience 💓).
That post made me realise something: death, grief, and anticipatory grief have been part of my life for a long time. Sometimes they sit quietly in the background, and other times they consume me.
What I’ve noticed, though, is that my fear of death often shows up in unexpected ways. One of them is grieving people who are still alive. Some are healthy; others are navigating health challenges. I’ve always wondered — am I the only one who feels this? There’s a particular heaviness in grieving someone who is physically here, yet emotionally or mentally slipping away.
What Is Anticipatory Grief?
According to Cruse, “Anticipatory grief is a feeling of loss before someone dies. You might feel it if your friend or relative has dementia, cancer, or another illness which you know will lead to their death.”
“Anticipatory grief involves many losses. You might have to come to terms with changes in your friend or relative as their condition progresses. Some days may be really hard. On other days, you may not experience grief at all. Everyone grieves differently, but the following feelings are all common.”
The feelings of anticipatory grief often overlap with what’s known as dementia grief. Dementia grief is similar to anticipatory grief but is specific to dementia. It can arise when the person you know struggles with communicating, reasoning, understanding, remembering, or discussing what may happen in the future.
Anticipatory grief and dementia grief can manifest in many ways — through emotions such as anxiety, anger, fear, loneliness, or exhaustion, and even a loss of identity.
Both of which I’m, unfortunately, all too familiar with and have had to adapt to and understand over time. Knowing that there’s a definition behind how I feel makes it seem more valid and real, and it also helps me feel much more understood throughout this process (what I am going through is really common and I never even knew!).
My Experience With Dementia Grief
My grandma has dementia. Over the years, it’s been both heartbreaking and painful to watch her slowly fade away. She and I have always shared such a strong bond, and while I’m deeply grateful to have been given this relationship in my lifetime, it also comes with complicated emotions as she continues to age (she’s over 90… how incredible!).
I don’t know if I’m the only one, but sometimes I forget that my parents, my siblings, and my grandma won’t be here forever. It feels as if they always will be. It’s crazy how precious life truly is — yet we only seem to realise it when we pause and acknowledge how quickly everything can change. Still, we often move through life as if we’re all going to live forever.
Some days, my grandma remembers me as younger Jess. She doesn’t always recognise the 29-year-old version of me. When I tell her how old I am, she’s often shocked. And some days, she doesn’t know who I am at all. That’s the hardest part. She’s still here, yet in so many ways, I’m already grieving her.
Grieving someone who’s still alive is unlike any grief I’ve known. It’s exhausting, overwhelming, and profoundly sad. There’s no clear “goodbye,” no closure — just a gradual fading, and with it, a constant ache you have to navigate. Sometimes, although I shouldn’t, I try to avoid the feeling, I do everything I can so I don’t have to confront it. Especially on the days I’m exhausted from work.
But in those moments when I feel lost and afraid of losing her completely, I try to lean into gratitude. I remind myself how lucky I am to have loved someone so deeply that losing parts of her feels this devastating. I hold onto the memories we’ve made, and I treasure the pieces of her that still shine through (picnics in her car, Pizza Hut visits every weekend, the smell of her art drawer, skipping along the beach in the sun).
Therapy has been a big part of helping me come to terms with this. It’s taught me that it’s okay to grieve in this messy, in-between space — and that love can carry me through it.
My experience also makes me realise that I’m getting older too. The world is changing, my support system is changing, and I’m no longer the little girl in my box room at Mum and Dad’s, playing with Lego (I bloody wish I could go back for just one day!). Life is so precious. Some things really aren’t worth our energy, and we should make the most of every moment we’re given — whatever that looks like for each of us.
My grandma is my whole world. Her support and her wisdom have shaped me into the person I am today. Even though dementia is slowly taking her away from me, nothing can erase the love between us. For that, I will always be grateful.
Coping Strategies and Tools
Writing about my experience with anticipatory grief has been both painful and healing. Over time, I’ve also learned some ways to cope with these emotions — small tools and practices that help me carry on when the feelings feel overwhelming, debilitating, or impact my mental health.
Whether it’s journaling, talking with loved ones, reaching out to helpful resources and my community, or cherishing memories of my grandma through scrapbooking, art, or even nostalgic foods, I’ve found ways to hold onto our connection and comfort. I’m still learning and overcoming, and I understand that this is an ongoing conscious effort I have to make, but I’ll be sharing more soon.
I’m planning to dive deeper into these coping strategies in a separate post soon. I’ll share what helps me manage the sadness and fear, and hopefully, it might offer some guidance or comfort if you’re walking a similar path.
If you’ve walked this path before, or you’re currently navigating it, I hope that sharing my personal experience has helped you. And if you’re curious about practical ways to cope with anticipatory grief, I’ll be diving deeper into the strategies and tools that help me in my next post.
Until then, take a moment to hold the people you love close and cherish the memories you’ve made 💕
Also, if you feel comfortable doing so, I’d love to hear your story about anticipatory or dementia grief. Whether you share in the comments or privately, it would mean so much to know we’re not alone.
Warm love,
Jess x
Dementia grief support resources:
