Relief following a death: when the end of suffering brings mixed emotions

“How is it possible to feel a sense of relief at the very moment the person I loved died?”

If this question has crossed your mind following a loss, it’s likely that it has also made you feel guilty. Perhaps you haven’t told anyone about it. Perhaps you thought it was something wrong, almost proof that you didn’t love that person enough. Maybe you forced yourself to push that thought aside as quickly as possible, replacing it with the image of the grief you ‘should’ be feeling.

Yet, in clinical practice, this experience is far more common than one might imagine. Many people, especially after months or years of illness, continuous care or a long period of shared suffering, report having felt, alongside the pain of loss, a sense of relief. A deeper breath. The end of a tension that seemed never-ending.

This experience does not make the grief any less genuine; it does not mean that the person was any less loved… nor does it mean that death was desired.

It simply means that our emotional world is far more complex than we are often led to believe.

Two emotions can coexist

One of the most common misconceptions concerns precisely the way we imagine emotions.

We’re used to thinking of them as alternatives: either you’re sad or you’re relieved. Either you love someone or you want it all to end. Either you’re suffering or you’re feeling better.

The reality is very different.

During bereavement, seemingly opposing emotions can coexist, without one cancelling out the other.

You can mourn someone deeply and, at the same time, feel relief that they no longer have to endure unbearable pain.

You may feel an enormous void and, at the same time, realise that your body is no longer constantly on high alert.

You may still desperately wish that person were with you and, at the same time, recognise that the last few months had become exhausting for everyone.

These emotions are not contradictory.

They simply reflect different aspects of the same experience.

When death follows a long illness

This experience is particularly common when death has been preceded by a long period of illness.

Those who have cared for a family member with advanced cancer, a neurodegenerative disease, dementia, ALS or other chronic conditions often live for months, sometimes years, in a state of constant readiness.

Days are organised around medical appointments, medication, emergencies, phone calls, sleepless nights and sudden changes.

Many carers describe this period as a long race during which it is never really possible to relax. Even when trying to sleep, part of the mind remains alert. Even when allowing oneself a few hours off, the phone could ring at any moment.

It is a form of adaptation that involves the body, the mind and relationships.

When all this comes to an end with the death of a loved one, the nervous system may react with a sudden reduction in that constant state of alertness.

This does not mean that the grief is over.

It simply means that part of the enormous burden borne up to that point is lifted.

This relief may also extend to the person who has died

In many cases, the relief is not limited to those left behind. It may also stem from the realisation that the loved one is no longer suffering.

Anyone who has seen someone living with severe physical pain, a progressive loss of independence or an illness that profoundly altered their identity may experience a sense of peace in knowing that that suffering has come to an end.

It is not a thought that erases the sadness. On the contrary, it often stems precisely from love.

We would like that person to still be with us, but we would not want them to continue suffering as they did in the last few months or years.

This, too, is part of the complexity of grief.

Because guilt can follow almost immediately

For many people, the relief lasts only a few moments; almost immediately, another emotion takes hold: guilt.

• “How can I feel this way?”
• “What sort of son am I?”
• “What sort of husband am I?”
• “Perhaps, deep down, I really did want him to die.”

These thoughts can be extremely painful, but they often stem from a misinterpretation of what is happening.

That sense of relief isn’t proof that you wanted to lose that person, but rather proof that you’ve been through an extremely difficult time.

If someone carries a very heavy rucksack for months on end, when they are finally able to put it down, they inevitably feel a sense of relief. This does not mean they were happy about the reason they were carrying that rucksack.

In the same way, feeling the tension that has built up over time ease does not mean wishing for the death of a loved one.

The body also undergoes this transition

In recent years, the neuroscience of grief has shown how the brain and the nervous system continually adapt to the presence of a loved one and to the demands of the situation.

When a long period of caregiving comes to an end, it is not just daily life that changes: the level of physiological arousal that had sustained that situation for months or years also changes. The body may therefore alternate between moments of deep sadness and moments of relaxation, intense tiredness or even a temporary feeling of lightness.

These are not signs that the grieving process is over, but part of the complex process through which our bodies try to readjust to a profoundly changed reality.

For this reason, some people are surprised to find that, in the first few days after the funeral, they are even able to sleep a few extra hours. Others say they feel suddenly drained. Still others experience a constant alternation between crying, silence and moments of apparent calm.

These fluctuations may seem strange, but they are part of the wide range of responses to grief.

What if death came suddenly?

Relief does not only come after a long illness; sometimes it can also emerge in very different situations.

It can occur after years of extremely conflict-ridden relationships, domestic violence, addiction, constant threats or circumstances that have left a family in a state of perpetual fear.

In such cases, the relief is not about death itself, but the end of a situation experienced as constantly dangerous or exhausting. Here too, it is essential to avoid simplistic judgements.

Human relationships can simultaneously contain love, fear, anger, affection, disappointment and a desire for protection.

Grief does not erase this complexity; on the contrary, it often makes it even more evident.

There is no ‘right’ way to experience these emotions

Many people try to work out what the ‘correct’ reaction is. The truth is that there isn’t one.

Some people feel intense grief straight away.

Others remain almost numb.

Some alternate between crying and feeling calm.

Some even feel relief.

Others feel nothing for days or weeks.

Grief does not follow a set script, and there is no single emotion that proves how much you loved someone.

The strength of the bond isn’t measured by a single emotional reaction, but by the history you shared with that person and the place they continue to occupy in your life.

Relief does not erase love

If there’s one message I’d like to leave you with, it’s this…

You may have loved someone deeply and, at the same time, feel relieved that their suffering has come to an end.

You may have spent months or years caring for them and realise that your body is, at last, no longer in a constant state of alert.

You may feel that a weight has been lifted, without this making the pain you feel any less real.

Human emotions are not a court that determines how much we have loved someone.

They are the way in which our system tries to adapt to extremely complex events.

Relief, when it comes, is not the opposite of love.

Very often, it is simply one of the many ways in which grief conveys the full complexity of the human experience.

If you’d like to explore this further, I invite you to read ‘Emotions in Grief: a comprehensive guide to what you might feel after a loss’