The ripple effect of grief

The ripple effect of grief

Last year I rode from Weymouth to Essex with a group of around 60 bikers. We were all dressed as superheroes, which probably sounds like a fun day out, but that wasn’t really what it was about. The ride was for a little boy called Stanley.

Stanley had been living with brain cancer since he was six. While most children his age are thinking about school, birthdays and what they want to be when they grow up, his life was made up of hospital visits, operations and treatment. Despite that, every year this group would show up, ride for hours, and arrive together just to make him feel seen, valued and celebrated.

This year we’ll be doing the same ride, but Stanley won’t be there.

His family have continued to share their experience openly, both during his illness and since he passed away a few weeks ago. They talk about the reality of what they’re going through, the moments that people don’t often see, and the kind of grief that is very hard to put into words. It’s incredibly brave, and it stays with you when you read it.

What I’ve found difficult to process is that I didn’t know Stanley in any meaningful way. I met him at the events, I saw the impact he had on people, and I saw how loved he was, but I wasn’t part of his day to day life. Even so, I still feel a real sense of sadness and heaviness when I think about him and, more so, when I think about his family. It’s that feeling of being affected by someone else’s grief. Not your own loss, but the impact of witnessing it.

Grief doesn’t sit neatly with one person. It moves through families, through friendships, through communities, and inevitably it shows up in the workplace as well.

We spend a lot of time talking about wellbeing at work, things like stress, burnout and resilience, but grief often sits slightly outside of those conversations. Not because it’s rare, but because it’s uncomfortable. People don’t always know what to say or how to respond, so it can end up being avoided without anyone meaning for that to happen.

If you’re someone who manages people or has any influence over culture, this is one of those areas where small things really do matter. You don’t need to have the right words or try to fix anything, but acknowledging what someone is going through, checking in more than once, and giving people space to not feel like they have to be back to normal straight away can make a big difference.

From what I’ve seen, people tend to remember the quiet, consistent support more than anything else. A simple message, a follow-up a few weeks later, or just not avoiding the conversation altogether tends to land far better than saying nothing because it feels awkward. Having somewhere safe to go, whether that’s a colleague, a manager or a more structured space like a support group, can also make it easier for people to not feel like they have to carry everything on their own.

There isn’t really a neat way to wrap something like this up, and I don’t think there needs to be.

We’ll still do the ride this year. It will just feel very different.

Hayley

If this has resonated or brought anything up for you, you don’t have to navigate it on your own. These organisations offer support:

• Cruse Bereavement Support – support, helpline and resources for anyone experiencing grief: 0808 808 1677
• Samaritans – available 24/7 if you need someone to talk tohttps://www.samaritans.org/branches/
• Winston's Wish – support for grieving children and families: 0808 802 0111