Why We Avoid the Conversations About Preparing to Lose Someone We Love…When the Ground Shifts.
Welcome to Tuesday Talks at 10:30 recap. This is a place that was created several years ago to create a safe space to explore your spiritual path. We touch upon many subjects, from grief to connecting to spirit and our higher selves. We discuss grief, spiritual paths, mediumship, and so much more. Whether you are live or on replay or reading the blog, you have arrived at the exact moment you were meant to be here. Welcome back all returning connection tribe and if this is your 1st time here, welcome to the connecting family, I am so glad you found us.
I’m Evidential Medium, Spiritual Healer, Author, Retreat Facilitator Stacey Niedentohl. I wear many woo-woo hats, and my passion is to meet you where you are in your journey of healing and growing.
For the last few months, we have been centered around monthly themes to help us walk into or back to ourselves in a more peaceful way. But this week, I felt I needed to pay attention to common questions I have been asked as well as the path I’ve recently been given. As I walk through my own grief, something dawned. It has been a bit difficult to be all peace, love, and Tom Petty. Why? Because I was experiencing the loss of three family members. I realized when grieving, the last thing I’m open to hearing is, “find joy, heal, and meditate.” My mind is closed because my heart is hurting. I need to hear about grieving. I need to speak grieving. And if I need it, I felt as though you may also.
I have a deck of cards, “Unpack That”. It is a self-exploration deck that asks some hard questions about different subjects. I went to the small pile on grief and healing and pulled two random cards. The first one asked, “How has loss affected your sense of security” and the second, “How do you deal with the fear of losing someone or something you love?” When I read these two questions, I immediately thought “earthquake,” “the ground shifts,” and that is how I want to approach this topic.
When the Ground Shifts:
Have you ever noticed that when a tree grows beside a fence for decades, it begins to lean into it? The fence becomes part of its support system. Then one day, the fence is removed. The tree is still standing. But suddenly it feels the wind differently. It sways, moves, grows and even seems different.
Many people think grief begins when someone dies. I believe grief begins much earlier. It begins the moment we realize that the people we love are not permanent. The reality of mortality feels different for everyone.
The truth is that grief is not only about losing a person. It is also about losing the security that person represents. We may not realize the safe space we have with that person. Security isn’t just money in a bank account. It isn’t a retirement plan. It isn’t the locks on our doors. Security is often found in people. The person who answers when we call. No matter what time or the issue, or even just to have a simple conversation. The parent who knows our history. All our childhood stories and events. The spouse who witnesses our life. The one who our life was built with. Our partner in crime. The friend who always shows up. You know the ones who lift you up, the ones who will scrap you off the ceiling and tell you the cold hard facts. The ones that have your back. Without realizing it, we lean into people much like that tree leans into the fence. They become part of how we feel safe in the world.
There is this fear nobody talks about. Once we love deeply, something else quietly arrives. Fear. Not because anything is wrong. Not because anyone is sick. Simply because we know they matter. Many of us have had the thought: “What will I do when they’re gone?” And then immediately pushed it out of our minds. How can we actually even think about the world without them? The fear of losing someone we love is one of the most universal human experiences. You’ve heard me say before, every day we live is a close day to the time we no longer exist. And yet, we rarely talk about it. Because talking about it makes it feel real. We don’t know the answers to how to deal with the fear of losing someone we love.
One of the hidden realities of grief is that it doesn’t only affect us after a loss. Sometimes it affects us before one. Many people live with an unspoken fear: “What will I do when they’re gone?”
There is a terrifying awareness that: A parent gets older. A spouse becomes ill. A friend receives a diagnosis. Or perhaps nothing is wrong at all, and yet we suddenly become aware that the people we love are not permanent. How do you survive this?
We typically respond in one of two ways. The first is avoidance. We push the thought away. We distract ourselves. We refuse conversations about aging, illness, or planning. The second way is through worry. We begin rehearsing loss over and over in our minds, believing that if we think about it enough, we’ll somehow be prepared. But neither avoidance nor worry actually creates peace. One ignores the possibility of loss. The other lives inside it before it arrives. Neither allows us to fully live in the present.
Maybe there is a different perspective we could think about? The fear of losing someone we love is often the price of loving deeply. The goal isn’t to eliminate that fear. The goal is to keep it from stealing today’s moments. When fear becomes too loud, something heartbreaking happens. We begin grieving people who are still here. We stop enjoying their presence because we’re afraid of their absence. We become so focused on the last chapter that we miss the pages we’re currently living. We push it out of head and we fall into denial: The Illusion of safety. This is where denial often enters. One of the most fascinating things about human beings is the way we try to protect ourselves from discomfort. Many of us avoid conversations about death, loss, wills, funeral wishes, and end-of-life planning. Not dramatic denial…ordinary denial.
The kind that says:
“I don’t want to discuss a will.” I don’t want to think about it. “I don’t want to talk about funeral wishes.” I have plenty of time, and I’ll deal with it later. “I don’t want to prepare because then I have to think about it.” Because then it becomes real.
What we’re really saying is: “I don’t want to feel vulnerable.” We make ourselves believe if we don’t talk about it, we can somehow push it further away into the future. Because the moment we acknowledge this loss is possible, we feel the ground shift beneath us. We confuse avoidance with security. But avoidance is not security. It’s temporary comfort. Why talk about it because I have plenty of time. If I don’t talk about it, it won’t happen.
It’s like refusing to look at a weather forecast because you don’t want to see the storm coming. The closed curtains may feel safer. But they don’t change the weather. Denial is often not a rejection of reality. It’s an attempt to preserve security. The mind whispers: “If I don’t acknowledge it, maybe I won’t have to face it.” Yet life has a way of reminding us that uncertainty exists whether we prepare for it or not. The closed curtains feel safer. But they don’t change the weather.
There is a difference between fear and love. One of the things I’ve learned is that we cannot love deeply without becoming vulnerable. I’ve learned the hard way. No conversation before death causes confusion during the grieving process. Love and loss are twins. You cannot have one without risking the other. The goal is not to eliminate the fear. The goal is not to spend our lives rehearsing tragedy either. Because when fear takes over, we begin grieving people who are still here. We stop being present. We may even back away. We miss today’s moments because we’re worried about tomorrow’s pain.
If the people we love could speak into those moments, they probably wouldn’t say: “Worry about losing me.” They would say: “Love me while I’m here.” “Be present.” “Make memories.” “Live.”
Let’s go deeper. Let’s discuss the difference between denial and preparation. Many people fear preparation because it feels like giving up hope. But preparation isn’t surrender. Preparation is love. Think about a plane before takeoff. Every passenger listens to the safety instructions. No one believes the airplane will crash simply because the flight attendant points out the exits. The preparation doesn’t create danger. It creates readiness. The same is true in life. Preparing a will. Having difficult conversations. Making your wishes known. Organizing important documents. These things do not invite loss. They create peace. One of the greatest gifts we can leave behind is not money or possessions. It is clarity. Because grief is already heavy. Unanswered questions make it heavier. Denial creates temporary comfort. Preparation creates lasting security. One helps us feel better today. The other helps the people we love tomorrow.
Inevitably loss arrives for everyone. The one day, for all of us, loss is real. And grief enters. The heavy pain of an empty spot in our heart that this person once filled. What makes grief so difficult is that we aren’t just losing a person. We’re losing everything they represented.
A mother may be:
Our history keeper. Our childhood storyteller
Our biggest supporter. Reminding you where you came from.
Our safe place. The voice of advice
A spouse may be:
Our daily routine
Our future plans
Our companion
A child may be:
Dreams for the future
Possibilities, milestones you expect to experience
A piece of our identity — our legacy
This is why grief feels bigger than we expect. We are not grieving one loss. We’re grieving many. As I’ve often said: “Grief is not only the loss of a person; it is the loss of the certainty that person gave us.” Grief is rarely one thread breaking but the entire tapestry unraveling.
Grief feels frightening. After a loss, many people experience anxiety. You’ve never experienced this before, and you don’t want to again anywhere in the near future. They worry about everyone. They become hyperaware of time. Not because they’re weak. Not because they’re doing grief wrong. But because grief shatters the illusion that life is predictable. Our constant normal is changing in a way that cannot be changed back. The phone call came. The diagnosis happened. The goodbye arrived. It feels stolen, you did not give it permission. And suddenly the world feels less certain. It’s shaky and now unpredictable. Why? Because grief teaches us something we spend most of our lives trying not to think about: nothing is guaranteed. The illusion of certainty disappears. And suddenly the world feels less safe. Our nervous systems begin scanning for danger because we have learned that life can change in a moment.
Our nervous systems begin asking: What else could I lose? Who might leave next? Can I trust life again? And the big question “WHY” What we’re really mourning is the loss of certainty.
There is a beautiful connection to the security we felt. The truth is that loving someone always involves vulnerability. There is no way to love deeply and guarantee that your heart will never break. The only way to avoid grief is to avoid love. And most of us would never choose that. So perhaps security isn’t found in knowing we’ll never lose someone. Maybe security is found in knowing that love is worth the risk. That we can survive heartbreak. That we can carry love forward. That even when people leave this world, the relationship continues in the stories, lessons, values, and love they planted within us.
The fear of losing someone you love is a reminder that your heart has found something precious. Don’t let the fear of a future goodbye keep you from fully living today’s hello. This is why preparation matters. Preparation as an act of love. Not because we expect loss. Not because we give up hope. But because love asks us to prepare.
Preparation says: “If something happens, I want the people I love to have clarity.” Even if we are prepared, we are never really prepared, but you had the conversation. One of the greatest gifts we leave behind isn’t money. It’s peace. It’s answers. It’s fewer burdens for grieving hearts. Denial creates temporary comfort. Preparation creates lasting security. Less time spent wondering if you fulfilled their wishes.
Rebuilding security that loss takes away. Grieving is because we experienced a great loss. The challenge after loss is that we often try to rebuild the exact life we had before. But grief doesn’t work that way. The goal isn’t returning to who we were. The goal is learning how to stand differently. Like the tree that lost its fence, we begin strengthening roots we never knew we had. We discover resilience. We discover community. We discover faith. We discover parts of ourselves that had been quietly growing beneath the surface all along.
True security is no longer based on certainty. It becomes based on trust in ourselves. The understanding that we can survive difficult days, even if we do not want to. Trust that love remains even when physical presence changes. Trust that we can carry forward what matters most.
Eventually grief asks us a difficult question: “If the person who made me feel safe is gone, where do I find security now?” The answer is not in becoming who we were before. Grief changes who we once were. The answer is learning that security can grow from within. Like the tree that lost its fence, we develop deeper roots. We discover resilience. Faith. Community. Purpose. Strength. We learn that the love we received never truly disappeared. It became part of us. The hardest part of grief is not always missing someone. Sometimes it is learning how to feel safe in a world that no longer looks the same.
The tree never becomes the same tree after the fence is removed. But it also does not die. Its roots deepen. Its trunk strengthens. It learns to stand in a new way. Perhaps that is what grief ultimately teaches us. To stand a new way. The people we love become part of our foundation.
The people we love become part of the foundation beneath our feet. When they leave, grief is the process of learning how to stand on the strength they left within us. And when they are no longer physically beside us, the love they planted remains. Their wisdom remains. Their lessons remain. Their influence remains. Their love remains. So maybe security is not the promise that nothing will change. Maybe security is trusting that when change comes, we will still be able to stand. And perhaps the deepest truth of all is this: Love gives us roots. Loss teaches us how deep they truly are.
The tree never becomes the same tree after the fence is removed. It learns to bend with the wind. And maybe that is one of grief’s greatest lessons. Security was never meant to come entirely from the people around us. They help shape it. They nurture it. They support it. But eventually, life asks us to discover something deeper. That beneath every loss, beneath every fear, beneath every shattered expectation, there is a strength we may not have known was there. The people we love become part of us. Their wisdom, laughter, lessons, and their love. And while grief changes our sense of security, it also reveals something beautiful: the roots they planted within us remain. And sometimes those roots become the very thing that helps us stand again.
The greatest act of love is not pretending loss will never come. The greatest act of love is preparing our hearts, our lives, and our relationships so that when the storms arrive, the people we love are held by the roots we left behind. The greatest act of love is not pretending goodbye will never come. It is leaving enough light behind that those we love can still find their way through the dark.
That last quote especially echoes this message: preparing for loss isn’t about expecting death; it’s about caring for those who remain.
Your loved one would want nothing less than for you then for you to live the life you love and love the life you live because of the impact they made on you.
Blessings for a magical day filled with love,
Stacey
If you are interested in scheduling a reading, you can go to www.connectingtospiritwithstacey.com and click on the Book a Reading button. If you have any questions while trying to schedule, please email me at connectingtospiritwithstacey@gmail.com
To watch the live, go to YouTube @connectingtospiritwithstac1512 or https://www.facebook.com/share/v/1KHXpb8AhE/
