02/02/2026
To all experiencing compound grief, we see you. 🩷
One thing we don’t talk about much is compound grief.
It’s the grief that doesn’t come on its own.
It arrives in layers
and settles quietly on your heart.
There is your own loss:
the person you loved, the relationship you had.
The way your life changed the moment they left.
But there is also the loss of the future you imagined.
The plans you never realised were promises.
The moments you assumed would come later and now never will.
Compound grief is grieving for other people too.
You carry your children’s loss, even when they can’t name it yet.
You feel the weight of your parents’ grief,
your siblings’,
your partner’s.
Their pain becomes part of yours.
It is the loss of who someone was to you,
and the loss of who they would have been
to the people you love.
The grandparent your children won’t know.
The friend your partner never met.
The versions of them that would have existed in other people’s lives.
This grief feels heavy because it keeps meeting itself.
One loss touches another.
One moment opens the door to many more.
This grief shows up on birthdays that you still get to celebrate –
the birthday of a loved one still here
that echoes with the absence of a loved one lost.
It shows itself in the moments where someone forgets
or doesn’t quite understand
that another person isn’t coming back.
It whispers loudly at the times you hold someone tight –
your heart breaking as you try to hold theirs together.
And yet, as heavy as they are, these layers of grief don’t need removing as such.
They need to be shared and named and lightened a little
by the joy that memory can bring.
Because this kind of grief means you love deeply,
and loving deeply means creating layers of loss.
It means your heart is holding more than just one goodbye.
It means that love is continuing. Deeply.
Not just in one place,
but everywhere.
*****
I wrote this recently after a conversation with a friend experiencing compounding grief. Sending my love to anyone in this situation ###
Becky Hemsley 2026
Incredible artwork by Olga Shvartsur
This poem is not in any of my books currently, but similar poems can be found in my grief collections (details on my website, beckyhemsley.com)