Earlier this year, I experienced one of the most life-altering events of my entire life: the unexpected loss of my beloved father. Navigating the new, overwhelming feelings of grief has been a profound learning curve. As I journey through this painful process, I’ve come to realise that grief is far more complex and nuanced than I could have ever imagined. There are many things no one tells you about grief, and some of these lessons have been both surprising and comforting as I learn to cope with my loss.

The Beauty of Community

In the midst of grief, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of community. From family stepping in to handle funeral arrangements, to people I hadn’t seen since childhood sending messages of sympathy, to those I hadn’t seen in years attending the Janazah, I was humbled. The warm meals, friends picking up my favourite items from the store, a friend sending over a cake on International Women’s Day and offers to simply sit in someone’s home without any pressure – these acts of kindness were endless. I never truly understood the depth and beauty of human compassion until I experienced one of life’s hardest moments. And in that, I felt the truth of Allah’s ﷻ words: “With hardship comes ease.” Your community can be of ease in these difficult moments.

You Don’t Know How It Feels Until It Happens

Sure, I could rationalise what death is, and I’ve always empathised with others when it happens. I’ve worked many hospital shifts with the sick and watched countless episodes of Grey’s Anatomy, but nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared me for the emotions I felt when it happened to me. Grief unlocks a whole new set of feelings that you’ve never encountered before – feelings that are difficult to process and understand. What I’ve learned is that you must allow yourself to feel whatever the process brings: anxiety, numbness, despair and even moments of peace. In today’s fast-paced world, where we often suppress our emotions to keep moving forward, it’s easy to ignore these feelings. But doing so only delays the healing.

Relief Can Come from Unlikely Places

I remember going for a short walk to clear my head, pressing play on a podcast, and having no idea what it would be about. That episode turned out to be The Digital Sisterhood’s season 5 episode called “La ilaha illah Allah.” Listening to “The Muslim Undertaker,” Ahmed and Cadar speak about the soul’s journey really caused me to reflect. It put my grief into a new perspective. Similarly, this year’s Yaqeen Institute Ramadan series, The Other Side, focusing on life in the barzakh, Amaliah’s very own Death Club series, and It’s Just Us’s latest episode on grief in Ramadan all felt deeply personal. I felt like these were made at the perfect time for me. I had never understood so much about what happens beyond the grave, and honestly, never heard so much openness on death before, and that provided comfort in a way I hadn’t expected. Death had once been one of the biggest taboo subjects to talk about, but I am glad to see we are moving forward with this as a community. After all, death is the one thing in this life that is guaranteed. 

Another unlikely source of relief came from BBC MasterChef. At the height of my grief, having it on in the background gave me moments of distraction. It reminded me of my dad’s commentary on just about everything – from not understanding why asparagus is eaten so frequently on this show, to his amazement at how the judges could eat so much food. Those memories made me smile. Nostalgia is powerful, and any piece of media or content that brings back those memories is something to cherish.

The Realisation That You Can’t Take Anything With You – Except Your Deeds

In Surah Al-Kahf (18:46), Allah tells us, “Wealth and children are the adornment of this worldly life, but the everlasting good deeds are far better with your Lord in reward and in hope.” 

We read Surah Al-Kahf every Friday, but how often do we truly reflect on this verse? Watching my loved one being buried was a stark reminder that no material possession will follow us beyond the grave. It serves as a reminder of the fleeting nature of worldly things – things that ultimately don’t matter.

The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, “When a person dies, his deeds come to an end except three: a continuous charity, knowledge which is beneficial, or a righteous child who prays for him.” (Sunan an-Nasa’i 3651)

For us, fundraising for a Sadaqah Jariyah project has become a way to ensure my dad’s legacy continues, alongside regular prayers and duas. It’s a beautiful way to remember your loved one and keep their good deeds flowing in the next life, insha’Allah.

The First “Everything” Afterwards Hurts

No one tells you how painful the first everything will be after your loved one’s passing. The first takeaway they used to order for everyone on a Friday, the first iftar without them – it all feels empty. The first Eid, the first family wedding, the first birthday – all of these firsts are reminders that they are no longer there. Sometimes, even after the firsts are behind you, the absence is still felt deeply. The memories flood in, and it can feel visceral.

Everyone Else Will Move On Inevitably

Naturally, life moves on. Time passes, routines return, and conversations shift. But for you, there’s a gaping hole where your loved one used to be. The world continues, but your everyday routine will never be the same. You want to talk about them, but you hesitate, afraid of burdening others.

Connection Is So Important

It became deeply real to me that no living being could support my father in the next part of his soul’s journey. I realised I had to turn to the Creator, asking for His mercy and guidance to help my father transition with ease. That moment of truth shifted something in me. I needed Allah not only for my father’s sake, but for my own. The grief, the pain, the weight of it all—it’s too much to carry alone. In those moments, reaching out to Allah, trying to build that connection, brought a sense of healing I hadn’t expected. No one can provide comfort the way Allah can. He is always there, whether in the middle of tears at 4 am or during a quiet commute. Holding firm to the belief that “Allah’s mercy excels over His wrath” (Sahih Muslim) brings comfort.
There are also people you can turn to. Your trusted loved ones want to help, and they will be there for you.

If you feel there’s no one to turn to, there are resources that might help provide the support you need, such as:

• Cruze Bereavement (0808 808 1677) offers a free helpline with trained bereavement volunteers for emotional support.
• Samaritans helpline (116 123) is available 24/7 for anyone struggling with grief or any other reason.

It is Isolating Being a Young Person Without a Parent

When we’re young, we often think our loved ones will always be there. We envision them being part of all our life’s big moments. But life doesn’t always work that way. Seeing fathers with their daughters at the grocery store or walking them down the aisle, or seeing social media posts celebrating birthdays with loved ones, can be incredibly emotional. We live with dreams of our futures with them by our side, and when they’re gone, navigating that future feels like an insurmountable challenge.

Social media can sometimes amplify this grief, so it’s okay to step back if you need to. 

During these difficult times, remind yourself that ultimately, “Allah is the best of planners.” [Surah Al-Imran, 3:54], and sometimes there are reasons for things beyond our understanding. 

There Will Be Life Before and After

This is one of the hardest truths to grasp: there was life before losing your loved one, filled with joy and memories, and there will be life after, filled with pain, yes, but also with the potential for new joys and memories. My dad was a man who lived with a generous spirit, even when he had little to give. Today, tomorrow, and for all the days to come, I will strive to live the same way and keep his generosity alive in his memory.

You can honour your loved one by keeping their legacy alive, embodying the best of who they were, and ensuring that their story lives on through you, your family, and generations to come.

Grief is a personal journey, one that no one can fully prepare you for. But amid the pain, there is also growth, comfort, and moments of unexpected peace. While I will never stop missing my dad, I’ve learned that it’s okay to feel everything, to lean on others, and to trust in Allah’s plan. Through His mercy, I find strength, and by honouring my dad’s memory, I can find peace. Life after loss is different, but it’s still full of moments worth cherishing.