What Grief Taught Me That Nursing Couldn’t
Stacey Moore, MPA, RN, helps women connect how they live with how they feel and make choices that support their health and reflect who they are. Drawing on 30 years of nursing experience, including healthcare leadership and entrepreneurship, she guides women toward whole-person health and lasting change through her Moore Framework.
I never dreamed grief would come so soon and stay so long. It came in fast and lingered heavily around my shoulders like a wet blanket. It clouded everything I did, every thought I had, and every movement I made. Nothing felt safe, and I had no power over it. Losing both parents within nine months taught me why we cannot rush grief and how to support someone without trying to fix their pain.
When grief hit home
As a nurse, I had learned about grief. I had studied the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. I knew what to say and what not to say to patients and families experiencing loss. I knew what grief looked like from the outside looking in, but I was ill-equipped to deal with grief when it knocked at my own door.
At 43 years old, on a beautiful Thursday afternoon in the spring, I found myself standing alone in a small-town hospital emergency department while my mother fought for her life. She had arrived at the hospital with complaints of a stomachache. Soon after I got there, she stopped breathing, and within 48 hours, she was gone.
Just like that. How could it be? Was I dreaming? Was this my life, or a chapter from someone else’s? Just nine months earlier, my father had died suddenly following a single-car accident. Losing my mother so soon after him felt surreal.
As an only child, I knew the day would come when I would have to do life without my parents. I would not have siblings who shared those memories or could walk beside me through the loss. I never imagined losing both parents so suddenly and so close together while I was still raising three teenagers. The days, months, and years that followed are hard to remember, but the pain is unforgettable.
You can’t outrun grief
I had not understood the physical effects of grief or how little control I would have over it. My husband, children, family, and friends were nothing short of amazing. They did all they knew to do to lift the veil of grief from my face.
I thought I could pray it away, outrun it on the treadmill, or somehow will myself back into the person I had been before. I tried to outwork it at the office. I started doing yoga and meditation. I even tried to numb it with alcohol. I would have done anything to feel better, even just a little bit better.
If you have tried to stay busy enough to keep grief at a distance, you may recognize that feeling. I wanted relief, and I kept looking for something that would give it to me.
One day, my uncle said, “Darlin’, there’s no way around it. The only way to get through it is to walk through it.” I have learned he was right.
Grief has no deadline
It took a long time to feel better. A lot longer than I would have liked. With time, I have learned to live with my new normal and to be patient and kind to myself.
Grief does not follow instructions. It does not move faster because we understand it, study it, or want it to be over.
The five stages can help name some of what we feel, but they do not follow a set order or timetable. You may not experience every stage, and they are not a checklist for finishing grief.
That understanding changed what I want to offer someone who is grieving. I remember wanting so desperately to feel better. I do not want my expectations to become another burden for someone living with loss.
When someone is missing
As the holidays approach, I think about the people carrying loss into gatherings and traditions they once looked forward to.
In a 2025 American Psychiatric Association poll, 48% of U.S. adults said they were worried about missing someone or experiencing grief during the holiday season.
Grief during the holidays can make celebrating feel difficult. Some people want to keep familiar traditions. Others need to do things differently. We can ask what would help and listen to the answer, even when it is different from what we hoped to hear.
Show up without fixing
When supporting someone who is grieving, begin by listening without trying to fix the pain. Let them speak about the person they miss. Keep checking in after the early days, when others have returned to their routines. A simple “I’m thinking of you” can open a conversation.
If you are the one grieving, giving yourself time does not mean waiting alone for things to get better. Let someone know what you need. If grief is making daily life difficult, a healthcare professional or licensed counselor with experience in grief can help you find support.
If someone came to mind while you were reading, reach out. You do not need the perfect words to let someone know they matter.
So, to my patients, clients, friends, family, and anyone walking through grief, I promise to be more patient and less judgmental. I promise to be more empathetic and less instructional. I want to offer the patience I once needed. The gift of time.
I’ll meet you where you are
When you’re grieving, “What do you need?” can feel impossible to answer. You may have little energy or desire to figure it out. You don’t need to know what you need or have the right words. We can start with a conversation. Let’s talk.
Read more from Stacey Moore
Stacey Moore, Integrative Health Coach for Women
Stacey Moore, MPA, RN, is an integrative health coach for women, healthcare consultant, and founder of Stacey Moore Integrative Health. She draws on 30 years of nursing experience, including healthcare leadership and entrepreneurship. Her commitment to women’s health is personal, shaped by the strength and struggles of the women who raised her. Through her Moore Framework, she helps women connect how they live with how they feel and make changes that support their physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health. Her goal is for women to leave with a clearer understanding of themselves, practical next steps, and the confidence to advocate for their health. She brings this approach to coaching, retreats, speaking, and writing.
