Grief Comes in Waves: Understanding the Ups and Downs of Loss

You were having a good day. A normal day. Maybe even a day where you forgot, just for a moment, that your world had changed.

And then it hit. Out of nowhere. A song on the radio, a smell in a store, a random Tuesday afternoon—and suddenly you're drowning again. The grief crashes over you with the same force it had in the beginning, and you wonder if you've made any progress at all.

If this sounds familiar, you've experienced what people mean when they say grief comes in waves.

This isn't just a poetic metaphor. It's one of the most accurate descriptions of how loss actually feels—not a steady decline from intense pain to peace, but an unpredictable ocean that can be calm one moment and overwhelming the next.

If you're in the middle of one of those waves right now, or if you're bracing for the next one, this guide is for you.

What "Grief Comes in Waves" Really Means

The wave metaphor captures something that other descriptions of grief miss: the randomness, the intensity, and the way grief can pull you under even when you thought you were doing better.

Waves are unpredictable. You can't schedule when grief will hit. It doesn't care that you're at work, at a party, or in the middle of a grocery store. It arrives on its own timeline.

Waves vary in size. Some days, the grief is a gentle ripple—present but manageable. Other days, it's a wall of water that knocks you off your feet.

Waves come and go. The pain isn't constant. It surges and recedes. You get breaks, moments of calm, even stretches of okayness. And then another wave comes.

You can't stop waves. You can't think your way out of them or push them away through sheer will. They come whether you're ready or not. The only option is to ride them out.

Waves eventually lose their power. Over time—and we're talking months and years, not days and weeks—the waves tend to become less frequent and less intense. They still come, but they no longer threaten to drown you.

The Science Behind the Waves

The wave pattern isn't just emotional—it's neurological. Your brain processes grief in cycles, not in a straight line.

When you lose someone, your brain has to rewire countless neural pathways. Every memory, every association, every habit that involved that person needs to be updated with the new reality: they're gone. This doesn't happen all at once. It happens piece by piece, trigger by trigger.

Each wave of grief is often your brain encountering another piece of the loss it hasn't fully processed yet. A song you used to share. A restaurant you went to together. The time of day they used to call. Each trigger brings a fresh surge of grief as your brain does the painful work of integrating the loss.

This is why grief can feel so random. It's not random at all—it's your brain working through an enormous catalogue of memories and associations, one wave at a time.

What Triggers the Waves

Waves can be triggered by almost anything, but some triggers are more common than others.

Sensory triggers: A perfume they wore. A song they loved. The smell of their cooking. Food they always ordered. Sensory memories are stored deep in the brain and can surface grief instantly.

Time-based triggers: The time they used to come home. The day of the week you'd talk. Morning coffee you shared. Seasonal changes that remind you of activities you did together.

Date triggers: Birthdays. Anniversaries. Holidays. The date they died. These predictable triggers can bring waves you see coming but still can't avoid.

Location triggers: Their favorite restaurant. The hospital where they were treated. Places you visited together. Even driving past somewhere unexpected can bring a wave.

Social triggers: Seeing families together. Watching someone interact with their parent, spouse, or pet. Milestones others are celebrating that your person will miss.

Random triggers: Sometimes there's no identifiable cause. You're just existing, and grief arrives. These are often the hardest because you can't make sense of them.

What the Waves Feel Like

Grief waves aren't just sadness. They can manifest in many ways.

Emotional symptoms: Sudden tears. Overwhelming sadness. Anger that flares out of nowhere. Anxiety or panic. A sense of unreality, like none of this can actually be true.

Physical symptoms: Tightness in the chest. Difficulty breathing. Nausea. Fatigue that hits instantly. Feeling like you've been punched. Heaviness in your body.

Cognitive symptoms: Inability to concentrate. Forgetting what you were doing. Confusion. Time feeling distorted—minutes feel like hours, or hours disappear.

Behavioral responses: Needing to leave wherever you are. Withdrawing from people. Seeking comfort—calling someone, looking at photos, going to a meaningful place.

All of these responses are normal. Your body and mind are processing something enormous, and waves are how that processing happens.

Why Good Days Don't Mean It's Over

One of the cruelest tricks of grief is how good days can set you up for harder falls.

You have a day where you feel almost normal. You laugh at something. You enjoy a meal. You go hours without thinking about your loss. And you start to hope: maybe I'm getting through this. Maybe the worst is behind me.

Then the next wave hits, and it feels like you're back at day one.

Here's what I want you to understand: good days are not a sign that grief is ending. And bad days after good days are not a sign that you're failing.

Grief is not a ladder you climb steadily upward. It's an ocean with tides. Good days and bad days will coexist for a long time. Having a good day doesn't mean you've moved on. Having a bad day doesn't mean you've moved backward.

Both are part of the same process. Both are normal. Both are necessary.

The Wave That Comes After Ceremonies

For families who have held a scattering ceremony or memorial service, there's often a specific wave that catches them off guard: the wave that comes after.

Many people expect the ceremony to bring closure. They prepare for it, get through it, and then assume the hardest part is done. But often, the days and weeks following a ceremony bring some of the most intense waves.

This happens because:

The distraction ends. Planning a ceremony takes energy and focus. When it's over, there's nothing left to do, and the grief floods in.

The finality sinks in. The ceremony marks the end of certain possibilities. Your loved one is really gone. The ashes are scattered. There's no going back.

Support fades. People who gathered for the ceremony return to their lives. You're left alone with the loss in a way you weren't before.

If you've recently held a ceremony and are experiencing intense waves, know that this is common. The ceremony wasn't supposed to end your grief—it was one moment in a much longer process.

How to Ride the Waves

You can't stop waves from coming. But you can learn to ride them in ways that don't leave you completely destroyed.

Don't fight it. When a wave hits, your instinct might be to push it away, distract yourself, or pretend it isn't happening. This usually makes it worse. Instead, let the wave come. Acknowledge it: "This is grief. This is a wave. It will pass."

Breathe through it. When grief surges, breathing often becomes shallow. Consciously slow your breath. Deep inhales, long exhales. This won't stop the wave, but it can keep you from panicking.

Ground yourself. If the wave feels overwhelming, use grounding techniques. Feel your feet on the floor. Notice five things you can see. Touch something with texture. These small anchors can help you stay present instead of being swept away.

Let yourself cry. Tears are part of how the body processes grief. If you need to cry, cry. Don't apologize for it. Don't hide it. Tears are not weakness—they're release.

Find a safe place. If you're in public and a wave hits, it's okay to step outside, go to your car, or find a quiet corner. You don't have to perform okayness when you're drowning inside.

Wait it out. Waves peak and then recede. Even the most intense wave will not last forever. If you can hold on—five minutes, ten minutes, an hour—it will ease. It always does.

What to Do Between Waves

The calm periods between waves aren't just waiting time. They're when you build your capacity to handle what's coming.

Rest. Grief is exhausting. Use calm periods to sleep, to do nothing, to recover. You're not being lazy—you're conserving energy for the next wave.

Connect. Reach out to people who understand. Talk about your loss. Let others hold some of the weight. Isolation makes waves harder to survive.

Create anchors. Build small rituals that bring comfort—lighting a candle, looking at a photo, visiting a meaningful place. These anchors give you something to hold onto when waves come.

Move your body. Gentle movement—walking, stretching, swimming—can help process the physical weight of grief. You're not trying to outrun it, just to move with it.

Nourish yourself. Eat even when you're not hungry. Drink water. Take care of your body so it can carry you through the harder moments.

Be gentle. Lower your expectations. Cancel plans if you need to. Say no to things that drain you. The calm periods are for recovery, not productivity.

When Waves Feel Like They're Getting Worse

Most people expect waves to gradually decrease over time. And generally, they do. But grief isn't linear, and there are times when waves can intensify.

Around significant dates: Anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays often bring bigger waves, even years later.

During life transitions: Milestones your person will miss—graduations, weddings, births—can trigger fresh grief.

When other stressors pile on: Illness, job loss, or other difficulties can amplify grief waves.

When you finally have space to feel: Some people are so busy after a loss that they don't fully grieve until months later, when life slows down and the waves finally arrive.

If you're experiencing intensified waves and it's been months or years since your loss, you're not regressing. You're just encountering a new layer of grief that wasn't ready to surface before.

When to Seek Support

Waves are normal. But sometimes grief becomes something that needs professional support.

Consider reaching out if: You're unable to function—can't work, can't care for yourself, can't get out of bed for extended periods.

You're experiencing thoughts of self-harm or not wanting to be alive.

You're using substances to numb the waves.

The waves are just as intense a year later as they were in the first weeks.

You feel completely alone and have no one to talk to.

Grief counselors, therapists, and support groups exist because this is hard. Seeking help isn't weakness—it's wisdom.

The Waves Will Change

I won't tell you the waves will stop. They may not, at least not entirely. People who have lost someone deeply often report that waves still come years later—at a song, a smell, a sudden memory.

But I can tell you this: the waves will change.

They will become less frequent. Where they once came daily, they'll come weekly, then monthly, then only on certain dates or triggers.

They will become less intense. Where they once knocked you flat, they'll become something you can feel and still function through.

They will become less frightening. Where they once made you fear you were losing your mind, they'll become familiar—still painful, but something you know how to navigate.

And in between the waves, life will grow. Not the same life you had before, but a life that holds both the loss and the living. A life where joy and grief can coexist. A life that moves forward while still carrying the love.

Frequently Asked Questions

Why does grief come in waves instead of getting steadily better?

Your brain processes loss piece by piece, not all at once. Each trigger—a memory, a date, a sensory reminder—brings a wave as your brain encounters another aspect of the loss it hasn't fully integrated yet.

How long do grief waves last?

Individual waves typically peak within minutes to an hour and then begin to recede. The overall pattern of waves can last months or years, though they generally become less frequent and less intense over time.

Is it normal to have a grief wave years after a loss?

Yes. Many people experience waves on anniversaries, birthdays, or when encountering unexpected triggers, even years later. This doesn't mean you haven't healed—it means you loved deeply.

Why do I feel worse some days than others for no reason?

Grief doesn't always need an obvious trigger. Sometimes waves come from accumulated stress, subconscious reminders, or simply the ongoing work of processing loss. Random hard days are completely normal.

How can I tell if my grief waves are normal or if I need help?

Waves that prevent you from functioning, waves that remain at full intensity for extended periods without any relief, or waves accompanied by thoughts of self-harm are signs to seek professional support.

Will the waves ever stop completely?

For most people, waves become much less frequent and less intense over time. Some people still experience occasional waves years later, but they're manageable—a tender moment rather than a drowning.

You Will Learn to Swim

At Pachamama, we walk with families through the hardest waves—the ceremony, the release, the moment of letting go. But we also know that the waves don't stop when the urn sinks beneath the water.

Grief keeps coming. And that's okay. It's not a sign that something is wrong with you. It's a sign that you loved someone, that they mattered, that their absence leaves a space nothing else can fill.

You will not drown in these waves. You may feel like you're drowning—in this wave, in this moment, in this unbearable surge of missing—but you will surface. You always do.

And slowly, with time, you'll learn to swim.

With warmth,

Virginia