Grief That Comes Before Goodbye
- Megan Brosh
- Jun 3
- 3 min read
Updated: Jun 6
We don’t talk enough about the grief that creeps in before someone we love is gone.
In April 2020, my sister-in-law was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. From that moment on, everything shifted—not just in our families lives, but deep in my emotional body. Grief began taking root well before she took her last breath. It’s called anticipatory grief, and it will forever change you.
As a partner, mother, and therapist, it’s been profound to witness how grief moves—quietly, urgently, and often in ways that make you feel like you’re living multiple lives at once.
When I Knew I Was Already Grieving
The moment I realized I was already mourning her—before she was physically gone—was during a quiet afternoon when my kids came home from school. We had uprooted our lives for two years, splitting our time between two states so we could be with family and support others; what I learned during that time was that we weren't just there for her, we were there to care for the caregiver(s).
That day, I found myself lying on the floor, overwhelmed, blaring Sturgill Simpson’s All Around You.
"Just know in your heart
That we're always together
And long after I'm gone
I'll still be around"
The tears weren’t just about what was happening—they were about what was coming. They were about the helplessness, the watching, the slow goodbyes, the knowing.
Anticipatory grief is not a softer form of grief. It's a complicated mix of dread, love, guilt, and emotional fatigue. You’re grieving the future loss of someone while still trying to show up for them. It’s not something everyone around you will understand, and often, it’s not even something you can fully explain.
The Moment of Loss
When she passed, the emotional storm I thought would consume me didn’t arrive the way I expected. Instead, there was an odd stillness. A silence. Relief and heartbreak holding hands. The pain didn’t lessen because I “saw it coming.” If anything, the weight of having grieved for so long made the moment heavier.
Relief can feel confusing. It doesn’t mean we’re glad they’re gone—it means their suffering is over. It means your body is finally allowed to exhale, even as your heart breaks.
After the Goodbye
In the weeks that have followed, I've leaned into what I had been offering to others: support, space, and spiritual grounding.
What helped me most were things that spoke to both my soul and my nervous system:
Talking with others who had experienced this type of loss, who normalized the strange blend of peace and sorrow that comes when someone you love is no longer in pain.
Music, like the song that cracked me open that day, became both a lifeline and a language.
Books like Living in Wisdom by Devi Brown and Signs by Laura Lynne Jackson offered healing frameworks beyond logic.
Reiki, which helped restore emotional and energetic balance, became a sacred outlet. (For those unfamiliar: Reiki is a gentle energy healing modality that can help release emotional tension and promote deep peace—especially during periods of intense grief.)
Grief is not linear. It doesn’t care about calendars or milestones. Some days my little family feels completely at peace. Other days, we get hit with waves no one ever saw coming.
To Those in the Middle of It
If you’re in that sacred, painful space of watching someone you love slowly slip away, I want to say this: You are grieving. Even if they’re still here. Even if no one else sees it. That grief is real. It deserves care and compassion.
And when the final goodbye comes, you may feel sadness, but you may also feel something else—relief, release, maybe even gratitude. That, too, is part of the grief. There’s no “right” way to feel.
Lean into what brings you softness. Be open to healing that doesn’t require words. And most of all, give yourself permission to be held—by people, by practices, by the simple truth that love doesn’t end when a life does.
In loving memory of Leslee. We will always aim to love more like you!
p.s. keep sending signs -- we are always looking for you!

This is so beautiful, Megan. ✨ Holding you and your family close. 🫶She is all around us. 🦋