Do You Have The Kind Of Support System You Need?

How Support Systems Shape the Way We Grieve

A key factor in how we process grief is the kind of support system we have. Life stage, personality, and community all influence who supports us and how we heal.

🧒 Stage of Life

Children often turn to their parents during grief. Parents carry the heavy task of guiding their children while managing their own pain—sometimes putting their kids’ needs first.

Young adults tend to rely on friends. They may push away their parents’ care as they seek independence. But friends often lack experience with loss and may not know how to offer support. As a result, their ability to tolerate grief may wear thin quickly.

Middle-aged adults usually lean on their spouse. Together, they navigate loss—often by burying a parent. While many feel grateful not to face it alone, assuming your spouse grieves like you do can cause disconnection. Everyone needs something different.

Seniors face unique challenges. People often assume they’ve “figured out” grief. But when they lose a spouse, they lose their most natural source of support. Adult children may step in, but they rarely grasp the deep void left behind. As explored in the paradox of mourning, grief in later life often brings unexpected emotional shifts.

🧠 Personality

Each of us relates to people in different ways. My friend Vanita Halliburton Briley calls this your “People Number”—a concept backed by research. It’s like a sleep number, but for your social needs.

An extrovert might have a People Number of 10, thriving on companionship and conversation. They process grief by talking and connecting.
An introvert may prefer solitude. They often find comfort in reflection, creativity, or quiet rituals. They need space to think and breathe while grieving.

Understanding your social needs helps you seek the right kind of support. Sometimes that support comes from intentionally building a life with purpose, as I shared in Set the Stage for Life.

🌍 Community

We were created to live in community. Whether through neighborhoods, teams, schools, or churches, our lives intertwine. We witness others’ joy and sorrow, and we choose how to respond.

As a Christ follower and an extrovert, I’ve found deep comfort in my community of believers. They lift me in prayer, speak truth, and remind me I’ll see my son again. They help me remember.

🧵 Community Lived Out

I will always cherish how our community showed up after we lost Bryan. Just two weeks before he passed, we had taken family photos in flannel shirts. That flannel image became the lasting symbol we used for his memorial.

As the first anniversary approached, I feared people would forget Bryan. But on the Sunday near December 16th, his small group leader invited others to wear flannel in his memory. They posted photos on Facebook and sent us messages. Even though we were out of town, we felt surrounded. Friends from church, youth group, Bible study, work, and even out of state joined in.

Six years later, they still wear flannel every December. It’s no longer just for Bryan—it’s for all of us. It reminds us that grief is shared, that love is lasting, and that we’re not alone.

🙏 Reflection

Do you have a support system like that? What stage of life are you in? Are you an introvert or extrovert? What does your community look like in seasons of loss?

If you’re a parent grieving a child, you may relate to the emotions I expressed in Bereaved Mother’s Day: A Way to Remember.