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Is It Normal to Talk to My Person After They Died?

Yes, and it's one of the most common ways people maintain connection after loss.


You might worry that talking to your person means you're losing it. That maybe you should have "moved on" by now. That other people would think you're stuck or can't let go.

But here's what I see in my grief counselling practice: almost everyone talks to the person who died. The difference is that most people keep it secret.


You might whisper "good morning" when you pass their photo. You might update them on what the kids are doing, or tell them about the neighbour who finally sold their house, or confess how hard today was. Sometimes you're asking for guidance about a decision.

Sometimes you're just venting because they're the only one who would truly get it.


This isn't about being unable to accept reality. It's about love persisting beyond physical presence. And if it helps you feel connected, if it brings even a moment of comfort or familiarity in a world that feels completely foreign without them, then it matters.


Let me walk alongside you as we explore why this happens, how it shows up, and why you don't need to hide it anymore.



Why do I still talk to someone who died?


When someone you love dies, the relationship doesn't end. It changes form, absolutely. But that instinct to share your day, to process your thoughts with them, to hear their voice in your head responding? That comes from years or decades of turning toward this person.

Your brain spent all that time building neural pathways around connection with them. You didn't just lose a body in space. You lost your sounding board, your witness, your person who knew the full story. Of course you still reach for them.


Talking to your person is one way your heart and mind continue the bond. It's not denial. It's adaptation.


Some people talk out loud. Others have entire conversations internally. Some speak directly to a photo or an urn. Others talk while they're driving, or in the shower, or sitting in "their spot" at the dinner table. The location doesn't matter. What matters is that it serves you.


Key reasons people talk to those who have died:

  • To maintain connection and feel less alone

  • To process difficult emotions or decisions

  • To share updates about life events they're missing

  • To say things that went unsaid before death

  • To hear their perspective or imagine their response

  • To include them in daily rituals and routines


What if people think I'm not coping well?


Here's something I bring up often in grief groups: I'll mention that talking to the person who died is completely normal. And almost always, relief floods the room. People who've been keeping this private suddenly realize they're not the only ones doing it.


One person shares that they still say goodnight to their partner every evening. Another admits they consult their parent about parenting decisions. Someone else talks about updating their best friend on neighbourhood gossip, just like they always did.


The shame dissolves when we name it out loud together.


You're allowed to tell people if you want to. You're also allowed to keep it private. But you're not required to perform grief in a way that makes others comfortable. Your grief doesn't need to look like anyone else's. Your connection doesn't need anyone's approval.


How do I talk to my person without feeling like I'm pretending they're still alive?


This question holds so much wisdom. You're not trying to fool yourself. You know they died. The pain of that reality lives in your body every single day.


Talking to them isn't about pretending. It's about honouring that they mattered, that they still matter, and that you contain multitudes: the truth that they're gone AND the truth that your love continues.


Sometimes the conversations are casual. A simple "you would've loved this" when you see something beautiful. Or "I miss you" on a hard day. Sometimes they're deeper. You might work through a conflict with someone else by talking it through with your person first, the way you always did. You might tell them what their grandchildren are learning, what's changed in the house, what you're struggling with.


You might imagine their response. You might hear their voice, or sense what they'd say, or feel their presence. Some people feel nothing and talk anyway, because the ritual itself provides structure.


There's no right way. Your relationship was unique when they were alive. It remains unique now.



Should I keep this private, or should I tell people?


You don't owe anyone an explanation for how you grieve or how you maintain connection.

Some people find freedom in sharing. They mention their conversations casually, normalize it for themselves and others, refuse to hide something that brings comfort. If you have people in your life who can hold this without judgment, sharing might deepen your sense of being seen.


Other people protect this space fiercely. It's private, sacred, just for them and their person. That's equally valid.


What I want you to know is that you're not strange. You're not stuck. You're not losing your mind.


You're doing what humans have done forever: continuing to love someone even though they died.


You Don't Have to Carry This Alone


Grief can feel incredibly isolating, especially when you're worried that your normal, human responses might be seen as abnormal. But you're not alone in this, and you don't have to figure it out by yourself.


If you're looking for a space where talking to your person is understood, where your grief doesn't need to fit a timeline or look a certain way, I'd be honoured to walk alongside you.

I offer grief and loss therapy in Surrey, Coquitlam, Greater Vancouver, and online throughout British Columbia. In our work together, there's room for all of it: the conversations you have with your person, the guilt, the confusion, the love that hasn't stopped just because they died.


If you're ready to explore what support might look like, I invite you to book a free consultation. We can talk about what you're carrying and whether working together feels right.


You deserve to be seen, supported, and steadied as you navigate this path.


Frequently Asked Questions


Is it normal to hear my person's voice after they died?

Yes. Many people hear their person's voice, especially in the early months and years after death. It might be their tone, their particular way of phrasing things, or a sense of their response to something you've said. This is your brain's way of maintaining connection and doesn't mean something is wrong with you.


How long will I want to talk to my person?

There's no expiration date. Some people talk to their person for the rest of their lives. Others find it shifts or fades over time. Both are normal. Let your relationship evolve naturally rather than forcing it to look a certain way.


What if I feel like they're answering me back?

Many people sense responses, feel their person's presence, or experience moments that feel like communication. Whether you understand this as spiritual, psychological, or something else entirely, if it brings comfort and doesn't interfere with your functioning, it's part of your unique grief experience.


Should I worry if I talk to my person multiple times a day?

Frequency alone isn't a concern. What matters is whether it's serving you or whether you feel compelled in a way that's distressing. If talking to them helps you feel connected and brings comfort, that's healthy continuation of your bond. If you're worried about it, talking with a grief therapist can help you sort through what's happening.

 
 
 

We are settlers occupying the stolen, unceded, ancestral territories of the xʷməθkwəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish), Səl̓ílwətaʔ/Selilwitulh (Tsleil-Waututh), and S’ólh Téméxw (Stó:lō) peoples. We are committed to understanding the ongoing grief of colonization and decolonizing our practices in and out of the counselling room. 

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