Grief does not need to become inspiring before it deserves patience.

Pressure builds quietly to turn loss into something with a lesson inside it, some growth or perspective that makes the pain legible to other people. Grief that stays plain and shapeless, that produces nothing useful, is often given less room. Patience is owed to the grief itself rather than to what it eventually yields, and nothing has to be redeemed in order to be held.

If you are grieving, you are allowed to have no story about it yet. If someone near you is, you might resist asking what they have learned and stay present with the unimproved version.