Grief Isn’t a Test

(And Memorial Day Isn’t a Pop Quiz on Patriotism, Either)

Let’s talk about Memorial Day. 

For some, it’s an excuse to fire up the grill, soak up the sun, and celebrate a much-needed long weekend. For others, it’s a day of honoring military service members, bringing layers of grief and guilt that can feel especially heavy if you aren’t grieving in a “patriotic” way. And for others still, it’s a time that makes personal grief feel even more isolating, especially when the world feels loud, festive, and unrelenting in its expectations. You might be just trying to get through the damn day without crying at the gas station or screaming at a playlist that accidentally shuffled into that song.

If you’ve ever felt like you were failing some invisible grief benchmark, this post is for you.

“Am I Doing This Right?”

That’s the question that creeps in, isn’t it?

• Should I go to the memorial service?
• Should I post something respectful on Instagram?
• Should I feel worse than I do?
• Should I feel less than I do?

Let’s pause right there.

You are not being graded.

Memorial Day can bring up grief, guilt, confusion, and pressure to show up a certain way - and that pressure?  It’s lying to you. 

The truth is, we all have personal experiences of grieving and guilt. Not everyone handles it the same way. Some of us grieve through rituals and ceremonies. Some of us grieve quietly, alone. Some of us do it angrily, messily, or awkwardly. That’s normal. Whatever your process looks like, it’s valid.

Grief Isn’t Patriotic

Not everyone grieves a soldier.  Some people grieve a friend who OD’d. A dad who wasn’t great. A dog who saw you through your worst years. A version of yourself you no longer recognize.

It all counts.  Grief doesn’t care if it fits in a flag-wrapped box.

So when the world is out there treating Memorial Day like a pop quiz on American values and emotional resilience?

You’re allowed to skip the test.

When Guilt Puts You on Trial

Let’s be honest - guilt has a clipboard. :

• Did you cry enough?
• Did you honor them the right way?
• Are you forgetting someone?
• Are you grieving someone you shouldn’t be?

Guilt tries to turn grief into a performance.  And perfectionism jumps in to critique your form. It strikes hardest when you’re already at your lowest. Did you do enough for the person you lost? Did you grieve hard enough, long enough, or in the way someone else thinks you should? Spoiler alert: Guilt’s answer is always "no."

According to Brené Brown, "Guilt is holding something we've done or failed to do up against our values and feeling psychological discomfort." And yet, guilt often twists itself into shapes that don’t actually belong. It becomes about controlling what can’t be controlled, rewriting the past in a fruitless attempt to make it align with what we wanted.

Maybe it helps to remember: grief and guilt are both deeply personal. They don’t follow a checklist or a timeline. They don’t come with rules.

But you don’t owe anyone a perfectly choreographed grief dance.  There’s no gold star for suffering correctly. There is no “correct” way.

Grief Isn't Linear (And The Stages Are More Like A Scribble)

You’ve probably heard of the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. What no one tells you is that those stages were originally created to describe how people cope with their own impending death - not necessarily the grief of losing someone else.

While these stages can offer a loose framework, grief doesn’t march in a neat, predictable line. It loops back, doubles down, and swirls around without warning. Some days you’re fine. Other days, you’re crying in your car because a song on the radio hit too close to home. And that’s normal.

As a therapist who specializes in eating disorders and trauma, I know grief isn’t always a direct part of my work, but it often sneaks in through the back door. Loss and change are part of everyone’s mental health journey. Whether it’s the loss of a loved one, an identity, a relationship, or even just a sense of normalcy - grief touches everyone. And guilt loves to show up right alongside it.

Grief Stacking

In case no one ever said it out loud: When you lose someone - even if it’s an acquaintance, a pet, or someone you haven’t seen in years - other losses show up, too.
They don’t knock.
They just arrive.

That pet who passed this spring? Suddenly you’re crying about your dad again. Or your best friend from college. Or your old therapist. Or the you from before everything changed.

That’s not being dramatic. That’s being human.

Grief stacks. And it’s heavy. Especially on holidays.

Try This: Compassion Break 

Let’s do something quick together.

This is a simple compassion exercise you can use when Memorial Day (or any day) feels like too much:

1. Acknowledge the moment: “This is grief. It’s hard. I’m hurting.”

1. Normalize the pain: “I’m not alone. Others feel this too, even if they don’t say it out loud.”

1. Offer kindness instead of judgment: “I’m doing the best I can. My grief doesn’t have to look a certain way.”

Put your hand on your heart or wherever your body needs it most. Breathe. Repeat it if you want. Or write your own version. You don’t need permission - but here it is anyway.

So What Should You Do on Memorial Day?

Here’s the whole list:

• Whatever you want.
• Whatever doesn’t hurt more.
• Whatever honors what you need - not just who you lost.

You can:

• Take the day off social media.
• Light a candle.
• Eat their favorite meal.
• Wear pajamas all day and binge a show they hated.
• Cry.
• Laugh.
• Do absolutely nothing.

You don’t have to earn your grief.  Grieving isn’t about measuring your love by your suffering. It’s about letting yourself feel what you feel, without the added layer of judgment. Yes, even if your grief looks like laughing until you cry over something they once said. Even if it looks like a scream at the sky. Even if it looks like just getting out of bed.

Louise Hay once said, "You have been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens." Take a note from Louise and try to give yourself a break.

The truth is, there’s no "right" way to grieve or remember someone. Memorial Day can bring all kinds of guilt and grief to the surface, but it’s also a time to honor yourself. Your memories. Your process.

Light a candle. Wear their favorite color. Eat their favorite snack. Make fun of their questionable taste in music. Or don’t do any of those things. The only requirement is that it feels right to you.

Affirmation: "I honor my grief and my love in my own way, without apology or judgment."

Grief isn’t linear. It isn’t simple. And it doesn’t come with a manual.

Maybe the best we can do is make space for the messy, confusing, imperfect process. Maybe that’s where healing begins.

Final Grade: You Pass

Grief isn’t a test.  You don’t fail for feeling too much.  You don’t fail for feeling too little.   You don’t fail for smiling. Or screaming. Or hiding. Or needing help.

Especially not on a day like Memorial Day, when the world gets loud and your heart goes quiet.

If you need someone to sit with that silence - someone who won’t make you explain or justify or fix - it’s what I do. And I’d be honored to hold that space for you.

🖤
@windoverwatercounseling
www.windoverwater.net

Resources

• Self-Compassion by Kristin Neff
• American Psychological Association - Coping with Grief
• NIMH - Grief
• Verywell Mind - Understanding Grief
• Psychology Today - Coping with Grief
• I Am Not That Therapist
• Revolutionize Your Holiday With Rest - December 2024

• Natasha Hastings on transitions, embracing failures, and practicing self-compassion.