Which family member is the hardest to lose?

Which Family Member Is the Hardest to Lose?

Understanding the Weight of Family Loss

So... this is not an easy one to talk about, right? We all know grief hits different depending on who you lose. But who is the hardest? Honestly, that question isn’t as straightforward as you might think.

It depends on closeness, shared history, emotional reliance—and sometimes just... timing.

The truth? I used to think losing a grandparent would be the hardest. Then I lost my dad. And it shattered me in ways I didn't expect. But my friend Lisa said the exact opposite—her mom’s passing felt like losing her own voice.

Let’s break it down. No sugarcoating. No shallow stuff. Just real talk.

Parents: The Pillars That Held Us Up

Losing a Mother

Mothers are often the emotional glue of the family. The one you call when you’re sick, or broke, or just sad. Losing her feels like being unrooted. Like you just got cut off from home—even if you’re already 40.

When my friend Jake lost his mom last year, he told me, “It’s like my whole compass got scrambled. Even just hearing her voice on voicemail had a way of calming me down.”

And yeah, I felt that. It's not just losing a person. It's losing safety.

Losing a Father

Dads often represent strength, protection, even that quiet confidence. When mine passed, I didn’t cry at the funeral. But two months later, I broke down while trying to fix a leaky sink. Because that’s when it hit: he’s not here to call anymore.

People underestimate the depth of father-loss. But trust me, it cuts deep. Especially when you didn’t say enough.

Siblings: The Ones Who Knew Us "Before"

Siblings are weird, right? You fight, you ignore each other for months, but you know. They saw your awkward phases. Your victories and disasters.

Losing a sibling feels like losing your mirror. A piece of you that no one else can replicate. My cousin lost her younger brother in a bike accident, and she told me, “No one else gets the inside jokes anymore. It’s like half my childhood got muted.”

Even if you weren’t super close, the grief often comes with guilt. “Could I have been a better brother/sister?” And that eats you alive.

Children: The Unimaginable Grief

Okay... this one is just brutal. Losing a child is something no parent ever should go through. It’s not just pain—it’s disorientation. Against the natural order of things.

I honestly hesitated to write this section. I've never experienced it, and I hope I never will. But I spoke to Mr. Dawson, an old neighbor who lost his daughter to cancer. He once told me, “You keep waking up and forgetting. Then it crashes in. Every single morning.”

The grief doesn’t lessen. It morphs. But it never really... leaves.

Spouses: Losing Your Person

When your spouse dies, you lose your teammate. Your rhythm. Your daily routines collapse.

My aunt lost her husband of 37 years, and she said, “Every dinner is just... quiet now. Not sad. Just empty.”

And there’s this weird practical grief, too. Bank accounts, passwords, birthday plans—everything feels suddenly like it needs two people, but there’s only one left.

Still, some find strength in the memories. Others in kids. But the void is undeniable.

So... Who Is the Hardest to Lose?

You’re probably hoping for a clear answer here. I used to think it was mom. Then dad. Then maybe a child? But... it’s complicated.

The hardest loss is often the one you weren’t ready for. Or the one where things were unresolved. The person who filled a need in your life that no one else does—or can.

And I guess that’s the messy truth: it’s not about titles. It’s about connections.

I was talking to Eli (one of my closest friends, and also way too philosophical for a Tuesday afternoon), and he said, “The hardest loss is the one that takes a part of your identity with it.” That hit me hard.

Final Thoughts: Grief Isn’t a Contest

Listen, it’s okay to grieve differently. It’s okay if you didn’t cry when your grandpa passed, but you broke when your dog died. Grief isn’t linear. It doesn’t follow rules.

What matters is that you feel it. Talk about it. Don’t compare your sadness. Just let it be yours.

And remember: grief means you loved deeply. That’s not weakness. That’s being human.

Is 165 cm normal for a 15 year old?

The predicted height for a female, based on your parents heights, is 155 to 165cm. Most 15 year old girls are nearly done growing. I was too. It's a very normal height for a girl.

Is 160 cm too tall for a 12 year old?

How Tall Should a 12 Year Old Be? We can only speak to national average heights here in North America, whereby, a 12 year old girl would be between 137 cm to 162 cm tall (4-1/2 to 5-1/3 feet). A 12 year old boy should be between 137 cm to 160 cm tall (4-1/2 to 5-1/4 feet).

How tall is a average 15 year old?

Average Height to Weight for Teenage Boys - 13 to 20 Years

How to get taller at 18?

Staying physically active is even more essential from childhood to grow and improve overall health. But taking it up even in adulthood can help you add a few inches to your height. Strength-building exercises, yoga, jumping rope, and biking all can help to increase your flexibility and grow a few inches taller.

Is 5.7 a good height for a 15 year old boy?

Generally speaking, the average height for 15 year olds girls is 62.9 inches (or 159.7 cm). On the other hand, teen boys at the age of 15 have a much higher average height, which is 67.0 inches (or 170.1 cm).

Can you grow between 16 and 18?

Most girls stop growing taller by age 14 or 15. However, after their early teenage growth spurt, boys continue gaining height at a gradual pace until around 18. Note that some kids will stop growing earlier and others may keep growing a year or two more.

Can you grow 1 cm after 17?

Even with a healthy diet, most people's height won't increase after age 18 to 20. The graph below shows the rate of growth from birth to age 20. As you can see, the growth lines fall to zero between ages 18 and 20 ( 7 , 8 ). The reason why your height stops increasing is your bones, specifically your growth plates.