My mom or dad died: who can I talk to?

Q: How do people live with what they never got to say?

At Grieving the death of a mother , people carrying unspoken words often faced a choice between searching for a way to say them now and learning to live with the silence that follows. For some, the cost was a lifetime of wondering if a loved one knew they were loved; others found a way to speak those words aloud to a memory, through a song or a shared moment of reflection. More in grieving the loss of a mother .

Q: What if I haven't cried since my dad died?

At Grieving the death of a father , grief mostly didn't show up as crying at all. It came as an ache around a birthday month or an anniversary year, as something ordinary catching them off guard, and for some as regret with a shape to it, a photograph not taken or a goodbye not said. The ones who were troubled were troubled by the absence of tears, reading it as a sign that something in them had gone wrong. More in grieving the loss of a father .

By the Ember team · Published November 13, 2026 · 8 min read

When your mom or dad dies, people ask how you're doing for a while. Then you're back at work, and the grief is still there: the number you almost call, their things to sort through, maybe a parent who's still here to look after, and brothers and sisters grieving in their own way.

There are places to say it. They differ a lot in what they ask of you: a set time, a fee, a group, a public post, or none of those.

Here are the main options, and what each one is good for. For any loss, where to talk about grief has the wider list.

Talk it out on Ember

Your brothers and sisters, and the rest of the family

Your siblings, a surviving parent, the aunt or uncle who knew them longest: they knew your mom or dad too. They may also be grieving on a different clock than you. Talking about them can get tangled up with the house and who handles what, and the parent who's still here may be leaning on you.

On Ember, people who lost a mother or a father have said what that was like. These are from two lights, as they read when this was written; the answers are rewritten as people come and go.

At Grieving the death of a mother, 43 people had stood. For them, the missing stays present in the daily patterns of life, returning through anniversaries, sensory reminders, or the sudden absence of a person who was once only a phone call away. They differ on whether the absence changes who they are, or whether they are learning to carry a weight that stays.
At Grieving the death of a father, 13 people had stood. The biggest surprise there was that grief did not arrive on schedule or in the form people expected. For some it came sideways and late, in an ordinary moment that had nothing to do with him. What steadied the ones who found footing wasn't resolving any of that, but letting the missing keep a place in ordinary life instead of waiting for it to finish.

Good for: people who knew your mom or dad, and can be there in person. What it asks: saying it to people grieving the same person, and saying it again after they've stopped asking.

The hospice that cared for them

If your mom or dad was in hospice care, start there. Medicare-certified hospices must make bereavement services available to the family for up to a year after the death. Most hospice bereavement programs also offer grief support to the wider community, whether or not the person who died was in hospice care, so you can also call the hospice nearest you.

Good for: support close to home, from people who work with grief. What it asks: a phone call, and often a set time. What's offered varies by hospice.

A grief group

GriefShare runs 13-week grief groups hosted by local churches, in person or online. Each week is a 30-minute video, then a small-group discussion. It is Christian, and says people of any faith or none are welcome. When this was written, most groups cost between nothing and about $20, to cover the workbook.

Good for: people who are grieving too, in the same group over time. What it asks: a set time, a sign-up, and talking in front of others. GriefShare is faith-based.

A counselor

A counselor gives you a confidential hour that's only about you. To find one:

Psychology Today's directory lets you search by location, insurance and specialty, including grief.
Open Path Collective is a nonprofit network of therapists offering sliding-scale rates to people in financial need. When this was written, individual sessions cost $40–70, plus a one-time membership fee.

Many workplaces also have an Employee Assistance Program (EAP). In the federal government's description, an EAP offers free, confidential short-term counseling and referrals, including for grief; what yours covers depends on your employer.

Good for: working through it with someone trained, week after week. What it asks: an appointment, the cost, and usually a few sessions before it feels useful.

Online communities and forums

Reddit and other forums have grief communities, including ones where people talk about losing a parent.

Good for: reading many people's experiences quickly, at any hour. What it asks: writing a post others can read, even under a username. A post captures one moment, and you rarely learn how things went for the person later.

Warmlines and peer listeners

A warmline is a peer-run phone line for when you want to talk to someone but it isn't an emergency. You can look up lines by state at warmline.org. Services like 7 Cups connect you by chat with trained volunteer listeners; we wrote an honest comparison, Ember vs 7 Cups.

Good for: a real person to talk to today. What it asks: a call or a chat, and hours vary. The person may not have lost a parent.

Ember

Ember is a private conversation with an AI informed by people who've been there. You talk by voice or text: on the web, in the iOS and Android app, or by text message or phone call. Behind the conversation is what people who lost a mother or father went through, what they tried, and what happened next. So Ember can tell you how it went for people who stood where you're standing. It won't tell you how to grieve, or what to do with their things.

Each situation people keep coming back to has a light, where you can read what the people there asked. At Grieving the death of a father, 13 people had stood when this was written. Asked what they wish they'd said or done before he died, what came back was that the thing that comes up most isn't words left unsaid so much as a moment that passed without being kept: a last closeness they didn't get, or a goodbye that circumstances took out of their hands. Some were physically apart from him at the end, and carry that as a fact rather than a mistake they made. The ones living with it more easily found something repeatable to do afterward, such as a daily habit of speaking to him, rather than something to fix about the past.

When someone's story could help you, Ember asks that teller once; only with their yes can you read it, under a nickname, and leave a note back. And when you're ready, you might meet people who get you. More on talking about grief privately on Ember.

Good for: the parts that are hard to say to a family that's grieving too, at any hour. What it asks: nothing public. Nothing you tell becomes a public post, and no one can read your Ember unless you separately say yes. Ember is an AI, not a person, and it isn't therapy or an emergency service.

How to choose

You want people who knew them: your brothers and sisters, a surviving parent, other relatives.
They were in hospice, or you want support close to home: a hospice bereavement program.
You want a group: GriefShare, or ask a local hospice what grief support it offers.
You want to work through it with someone trained: a counselor, or your workplace EAP.
You want to read many experiences: a forum.
You want to talk to a person today: a warmline or a peer listener.
It comes back in ordinary moments, and you want to know how it went for others: Ember.

Many people use more than one. Saying it privately first can make it easier to say it to your family. Other situations have their own guides: see them all in one place.

When you need more than a place to think

None of these is an emergency service. If grief has turned into despair, or you are thinking about harming yourself, call or text 988 to reach the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. If you are in immediate danger, call 911.

Frequently asked questions

My mom or dad died. Who can I talk to?
The main options are your family, the hospice that cared for them, a grief group such as GriefShare, a counselor, forums, and warmlines or peer listeners. Ember gives you a private conversation informed by how it went for people who lost a parent too.

How do people live with what they never got to say?
At Grieving the death of a mother, people carrying unspoken words often faced a choice between searching for a way to say them now and learning to live with the silence that follows. For some, the cost was a lifetime of wondering if a loved one knew they were loved; others found a way to speak those words aloud to a memory, through a song or a shared moment of reflection. More in grieving the loss of a mother.

What if I haven't cried since my dad died?
At Grieving the death of a father, grief mostly didn't show up as crying at all. It came as an ache around a birthday month or an anniversary year, as something ordinary catching them off guard, and for some as regret with a shape to it, a photograph not taken or a goodbye not said. The ones who were troubled were troubled by the absence of tears, reading it as a sign that something in them had gone wrong. More in grieving the loss of a father.

What is Ember?
Ember is an AI you can talk to about what's on your mind, any hour, by voice or text. It listens, remembers what you said, and knows how things went for people who stood where you're standing — what they tried, and what happened after. It won't tell you what to do.

Is Ember private, and does it cost anything?
Ember is private: nothing you tell becomes a public post, and no one can read your Ember unless you separately say yes. Ember is in beta, and we’re starting to test subscriptions with some new accounts. Most accounts aren’t asked to subscribe. If yours is, you’ll see it up front — $9.99 a month after a free trial, and nothing is charged unless you choose to subscribe. Ember is for adults 18+.

Grief doesn't keep a schedule. You can still talk about them.

Talk it out on Ember · Read what people who lost their mother asked
Pause or stop anytime · 18+ · Nothing you tell becomes a public post.