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Above: Jodie, pictured with her dad Andrew, who most people called Andy. This article includes themes of bereavement, loss and grief.

Not long after he’d gone, the clutch went on my car. Dad would have sorted that for me. 

He’d always worked in the motor industry and had owned his own business. Even when he was in hospital, he was telling other patients: “let me know if you need your car doing.”  

As nursing staff, we’re often a witness to loss. We see the pain and understand that grief doesn’t follow a timeline. But when it becomes personal, is there an expectation that this knowledge will somehow make it easier for us to manage?

My dad was one of those people who always looked on the positive side of life; no one had a bad word to say about him.

You could feel the love coming from him and he always had my best interests at heart. On difficult days I’d speak to him and always come away feeling better. He wasn’t just my dad. He was my best friend. 

In those final moments, he knew he was loved

When he became unwell, I saw the signs. I recognised the fear.  

I’d seen this same fear while nursing patients many times before. It was incredibly difficult at first – we didn’t want to talk about him dying.  

I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to thank my dad, and that he was able to say personal things to me, words I will never forget and that continue to give me comfort.

Dealing with death is painful, no matter how expected it may be, but I do know it can be a comfort being with someone you love until the very end. It doesn't take away the grief, but it gave me peace knowing he wasn't alone, that we were able to say what we needed to say, and that, in those final moments, he knew he was loved. 

‘I’m a nurse and a daughter’ 

Loss is one of the most challenging experiences in our lives and can feel emotionally and physically overwhelming. Nursing staff aren’t immune to that. 

There’s a common misconception that we’re more resilient to loss because we see it in our working lives more often than most. But no amount of professional training prepares you for bereavement and the pain you feel when it comes calling in your personal life.

I’m a mental health nurse but I’m also a daughter. Our profession is widely recognised as being associated with high levels of stress and burnout, so our own wellbeing must be prioritised. Self-compassion and self-care were essential in supporting my nursing practice while navigating the aftermath of loss.

Jodie’s tips for self-care

  • Avoid working in isolation too much. Allow for opportunities to share experiences and emotions. 
  • Prioritise your breaks and wellbeing. Give yourself the same empathy and respect you’d offer your patients.  
  • Follow your own guidance. We play a vital role in health promotion by providing guidance, encouragement, education and empowerment to help patients adopt active lifestyles and enhance their mental wellbeing. We need to model those behaviours too. Healthy eating, good sleep hygiene, exercise, art, music, spending time in nature and connecting with others can all help.  
  • Consider journaling (writing down your thoughts). It’s a space to release emotions, develop personally and gain clarity. 
  • Stay social. This can contribute to holistic wellbeing. Connection is often as healing as any self-care ritual. 
  • Use reflective practice or clinical supervision. These are appropriate spaces to explore work situations that have triggered or could trigger a strong personal emotional response. 

Find your way 

My recent online search history has been filled with “is it normal to…?” questions, and I suspect I’m not alone in seeking answers as I navigate my way through this painful time.  

In life, we usually keep plodding on; not wanting to put up our hand and ask for help. But when I was living through grief, I realised that, for me, it was good to talk. I contacted the RCN counselling service when Dad became unwell and just having someone there to listen made such a difference.  

If you can’t get the words out, try writing them down. After Dad died, I started acknowledging and recording in writing my thoughts and feelings, sometimes in a book, and sometimes using an app on my phone.

We don’t all get to feel grateful in the way I do

I was looking for an emotional release when I decided to write a blog for the RCN. We do a lot of reflection work as nursing staff – looking back at how we could do things better. But this wasn’t a professional experience; this was about working out what my emotions were.  

Everyone’s different, and what works for one person might not work for another. I’m thankful I have fond memories to reflect on, but we don’t all get to feel grateful in the way I do. Whatever your experience, you need to find what works for you.

What should I say? 

People often like to talk about their loved ones after they’ve died. It keeps the person alive in their hearts. I’ve seen peoples’ eyes light up when I ask them what their loved one did.  

Now, I speak from professional and personal experience, and I’d say don’t be afraid to acknowledge a loss and ask questions. Perhaps ask someone who’s grieving what their loved one did for a living. It’s part of them but it’s a fact so that might make it easier to start the conversation. Don’t worry unnecessarily about saying the right thing either – I didn’t remember the detail, only the interest.  

Listening sincerely is important though. I liked it when people asked to see photographs of Dad – it showed me the conversation was heartfelt. 

Team support 

In the midst of sadness, it’s important to look for the positives. I’m surrounded by an incredible team at work. When I felt guilty about taking time off when Dad was receiving palliative care, colleagues who had been through the same thing told me to take the time. They helped me realise that putting a brave face on wasn’t enough.  

There are many of us searching for moments of clarity, comfort or connection while quietly carrying grief

When I was faced with the prospect of nursing a patient receiving palliative care not long after I returned to work, their care was passed to someone else in the team. We knew it was the best action for the patient, their family and me. When you’re working with families in distress, you can’t say to them: ‘I’m going through that too’ because you have to be there in a professional capacity.  

Having my team and managers step up for me was incredible, and debriefing after challenging days made a difference, cutting through the loneliness that grief can bring.  

Looking after ourselves

For those without a supportive team around them, or if you simply don’t like sharing personal details with colleagues, my plea to you to look after yourself is even more important. I hope that by writing this, other nursing staff who are grieving will be reassured by knowing there are many of us searching for moments of clarity, comfort or connection while quietly carrying grief. 

Nursing requires resilience and emotional strength, but none of us should have to shoulder that weight alone. Sharing experiences, through whichever means you choose, can be a gentle but powerful way to care for ourselves.

Carrying the weight of a demanding nursing role while grieving a loss can feel overwhelming, and trying to navigate support during such a vulnerable time can add to that burden. Self-care and self-compassion aren’t optional, they’re essential.

Jodie Holding is a mental health nurse.

Where can I get support? 

If you’d like a safe and confidential space to express more difficult feelings and emotions, members can contact the RCN to discuss having a free telephone counselling appointment.  

For more in-depth information about grief or to get local support, contact Cruse Bereavement Care.  

Read more about grief and loss.

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