Grief Isn’t a Puzzle to Solve

Reflections on Loss and the Writings of C.S. Lewis

Grief changes everything. It alters how we see the world, how we move through it, and how we understand ourselves.

As a therapist, I often sit with clients in the silent, painful space that follows loss. And while grief may look different for each of us, the disorientation it brings is something we all recognize.

One book I often return to—not for answers, but for honest company—is A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis. Written after the death of his wife, Lewis’s journal is a raw, intimate exploration of love, pain, doubt, and slowly reshaping one’s life after profound loss.

Here are some of the reflections I share with clients, drawn from Lewis’s words and shaped by the work I do with those navigating grief:

Grief Doesn’t Follow a Script—It Moves Like the Ocean

C.S. Lewis doesn’t describe grief as something neat or orderly. He names it for what it is: wild, unpredictable, and often overwhelming. One day may bring calm, the next an unexpected wave. In therapy, we explore how to stop judging these waves—and instead allow them, with care and compassion.

Loss Changes Identity, Not Just Relationships

When we lose someone close, we don’t just grieve their absence—we grieve who we were with them. Lewis speaks of losing the version of himself that only existed in his wife’s presence. This insight can open the door to deep, necessary identity work in therapy: Who am I now?

Faith and Grief Can Coexist—with Tension

Even Lewis, a devout Christian, described a spiritual void after his loss. He wrote of knocking and hearing “a door slammed in your face.” This is something I hear often in session: that faith, once steady, now feels distant. Your grief doesn’t make you less faithful—it makes you human.

The World Keeps Moving—but You May Not Be Ready

Many grieving people describe feeling invisible. The world rushes on, while they remain frozen. Lewis writes about this hauntingly. In therapy, we honor this feeling—creating space for your unique rhythm of healing, without pressure to keep pace with anyone else.

The Ache of Memory Is Proof of Love

Lewis writes, “The pain now is part of the happiness then. That’s the deal.” Remembering can hurt, but it also affirms the depth of what was shared. In our work together, we make room for both the ache and the gratitude.

Grief Doesn’t End—But It Changes Shape

Healing doesn’t mean forgetting. Grief shifts. It softens, it transforms, but it stays with us. Therapy isn’t about “getting over it.” It’s about learning to carry your loss differently, and eventually, making space for joy again—on your own terms.

Naming Grief Helps Us Heal

Lewis’s journal became a way to bring shape to what felt unspeakable. In therapy, we often use words, images, or silence to do the same. What we name, we begin to integrate. What we allow, we begin to soften.

You Don’t Have to Walk Through Grief Alone

Whether your loss is recent or long ago, whether it’s a death, a separation, or another kind of invisible grief—therapy can be a space where your pain is witnessed and honored without pressure to fix it.

If you’re grieving, I invite you to reach out.

Together, we can create a safe space to explore your sorrow, hold your love, and gently, patiently begin again.

💬 Want to talk?

 contact me to learn more about grief therapy and how we might work together.

I'm Patrizia Nader, a trauma-informed therapist based in San Anselmo and offering therapy across California. I provide culturally sensitive space for individuals, couples, families and children navigating grief, trauma, anxiety, relationship challenges or major life transitions. My mission is to support generational healing and transformation.