When Grief Lives in the Body: Love, Loss and the Comfort of Human Touch. How grief affects the human body?
In the last three months, I have lost both of my dogs. During the same period, I also lost a dear friend who had been like a father to me for over ten years. He received end-of-life care at home, where he passed away.
These are deeply personal losses. I am sharing them because grief is something we can carry quietly while continuing to work, answer messages and take care of everyday responsibilities. Someone can look as though they are managing while moving through a very painful part of their life.
If you are caring for a family member at the end of their life, or have recently said goodbye to someone you love, I would like to speak to you gently about this: how grief affects the human body?
About the waiting, the helplessness and the love. And about the body that carries you through it all. You may be paying close attention to everyone else’s needs right now. Perhaps there has been very little space for your own.
With my dogs, I had to make the heartbreaking decision to help them reach the end of their lives with dignity. Wanting to prevent suffering does not make that decision easy to carry.

With my friend, the circumstances were different. His death brought the loss of a relationship that had held the meaning of family for over a decade.
Together, these experiences have given me a deeply personal reason to reflect on what it means to love, to lose, and to wish for a peaceful ending for someone who matters to us.
When someone you love is approaching the end of their life, you may find yourself wanting more time while also wanting their suffering to stop. Those feelings can be difficult to say aloud. You might worry that wishing for peace sounds like giving up.
Wanting your loved one to be comfortable is a compassionate wish.
If you are concerned about their pain or distress, you can ask their palliative care team what else can be done and whom to contact if symptoms change, including overnight. End-of-life care should attend to comfort, dignity and the person’s individual needs. Marie Curie explains pain management in palliative care.
Sometimes, grief begins while the person is still here. How grief affects the body?
You may already miss familiar conversations, shared plans or the way your relationship felt before illness changed it. You may feel grateful for an afternoon together and frightened about tomorrow.
This experience is often called anticipatory grief: feelings of loss that arise before a death. It can accompany the changes and uncertainty of a loved one’s illness. Read Marie Curie’s guidance on anticipatory grief.
When care takes place at home, familiar surroundings may also become the setting for difficult decisions, practical responsibilities and waiting. Perhaps you find yourself listening for movement or checking your phone, even when you have a chance to rest. Your body may have very few opportunities to settle.
Grief can affect sleep, appetite and energy. You may notice aches, a hollow feeling in your stomach, tightness in your throat or an exhaustion that feels difficult to explain. Emotional strain, interrupted sleep and the demands of caring can contribute to these physical experiences. Marie Curie describes the physical symptoms of grief.
Perhaps you sit down and realise how tightly you have been holding your shoulders. Perhaps preparing a meal feels like another task you cannot quite face.
These are experiences that deserve attention and kindness.
That need for care can continue months afterwards
After a death, practical demands may keep you occupied. There are arrangements, conversations and responsibilities. Later, when things become quieter, you may become more aware of your tiredness or of the absence in everyday life.
Returning to work does not mean you have finished grieving. Neither does being able to laugh, enjoy an afternoon or talk about something else.
Grief can come in waves, and feelings may return unexpectedly. There is no single sequence that everyone follows. The NHS explains the different ways bereavement can affect us.
If your sleep, appetite and routines remain disrupted, physical exhaustion may continue too. Months passing does not automatically mean you have had the rest or support you need.
When several losses happen close together, there may also be little space to give each relationship the attention it deserves. A dear friend who became family. An animal companion whose presence shaped your day. Each has a place in your life, and each absence deserves recognition.
You do not have to decide which loss you are allowed to feel most deeply.
As a massage therapist, this brings me to a question I care about: how can we offer comfort to the person who is grieving?
Massage may provide a period of rest, supportive human contact and relief from some muscular discomfort. Research suggests that massage can offer short-term benefits for certain neck and shoulder pain conditions, although results and the strength of evidence vary. See the evidence summary from the National Center for Complementary and Integrative Health.
Research specifically involving bereavement is limited. In one small study, 18 people who had lost a relative to cancer received weekly hand or foot massage for eight weeks. They described comfort, moments of rest and a sense of supportive closeness. Because this was an interview-based study without a comparison group, it cannot establish that massage treats grief or speeds recovery. It does suggest that some bereaved people find this kind of care comforting. Read Karolinska Institutet’s account of the study.
That is a meaningful aim: to help you feel a little more comfortable while you are living through something painful.
During a session, we can begin with what feels manageable for you. Perhaps gentle attention to your shoulders would be welcome. Perhaps you would prefer a short hand massage, quiet surroundings or unscented oil. You can talk, remain silent, keep your eyes open or ask to pause. Your consent and comfort guide the session throughout. If tears come, there is time to stop and check what you need. If they do not, there is no expectation that they should. You do not have to explain your grief or leave feeling transformed. You are allowed to receive care exactly as you are that day.
If you are considering massage for your loved one receiving end-of-life care, speak with their clinical team first. Their health may require a practitioner with specialist training, adapted positioning or very light touch. Their wishes and comfort must lead.
For you, support might also mean someone preparing a meal, taking over a practical task or sitting beside you without expecting conversation. A bereavement counsellor or support group can offer another place for what you are carrying. Massage can be one part of that support. Please, also have persistent, worsening or unfamiliar physical symptoms assessed by a healthcare professional. New chest pain or severe difficulty breathing needs urgent medical attention and should never simply be attributed to grief.
Before you leave this page, I would like to offer you a gentle pause.
Feel the chair beneath you or the ground beneath your feet. Allow your breathing to remain natural. There is nothing you need to achieve in this moment.
Ask yourself: “What would make the next hour a little easier?”
Perhaps something to eat. A glass of water. A message to someone you trust. A few minutes in which you are not responsible for another task.
If you are in Paphos and would welcome a gentle massage at home, you can contact me to discuss what feels right for you. You do not need to find a polished explanation. “I am going through a difficult time” is enough to begin.
I am writing this in memory of my two dogs and my dear friend, who was like a father to me. Each held a different and irreplaceable place in my life.
And I am writing it for you, if you are living through your own goodbye.
As you care for someone you love, or learn to live with their absence, your body deserves tenderness too.
Love & Light,
Your therapist,Hajnalka




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