In the wake of a loss, the initial flood of sympathy often recedes, leaving grieving families to navigate a new reality in isolation. Bryan Scott McMillan, a veteran of the medical device industry and founder of Families with Holes, argues that the most impactful support comes not from grand gestures but from sustained, ordinary acts of care. His insight, born from personal tragedy and years of volunteer work, challenges the conventional approach to grief support and underscores a critical public health concern.
The statistics are stark. According to the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, more than 3 million people die each year in the United States, leaving millions to cope with loss. Research also indicates that approximately one in twelve children will experience the death of a parent or sibling before adulthood. Yet, despite the prevalence of grief, many report feeling abandoned after the first few weeks. 'We rush toward people immediately after a funeral,' McMillan observes. 'Then life speeds back up. Grief doesn't. The hardest conversations often happen months later, after everyone else has gone back to normal.'
McMillan's perspective is shaped by a dual career: leading teams in the high-stakes medical device industry and volunteering with organizations like The WARM Place and Camp Sanguinity. He draws a parallel between effective leadership and effective grief support. 'In business, we solved problems by paying attention and following through,' he says. 'Helping grieving families works much the same way. Listen first. Keep your promises. Stay consistent.'
This consistency is not just emotionally beneficial; it has tangible health implications. The CDC has identified social isolation and loneliness as significant public health concerns linked to higher risks of depression, heart disease, dementia, and other serious conditions. Supportive relationships can improve emotional well-being and aid recovery after major life events. By fostering connection, communities can mitigate these risks.
McMillan emphasizes that one need not be a grief expert to help. Simple, concrete actions can make a profound difference: calling someone who has lost a loved one to ask how they are doing, marking anniversaries and birthdays to check in, offering specific help like bringing a meal or running errands, inviting a grieving friend for a walk without expecting conversation, and listening without trying to fix everything. 'If you don't know what to say, say that,' McMillan advises. 'Then sit down and listen. Presence beats perfection every time.'
The ripple effects of such support are immense. 'I've watched volunteers change someone's entire week by doing something as simple as driving a child to practice or dropping off groceries,' he says. 'Those aren't small things to the family receiving them. They're huge.'
McMillan's message extends beyond individual action to community responsibility. He encourages support for local grief centers and organizations, and emphasizes the importance of allowing children to express grief in their own way. 'My hope isn't that everyone becomes a counselor,' he states. 'My hope is that more people become the kind of friend who keeps showing up. That's how stronger families and stronger communities are built.'
Ultimately, McMillan believes that leadership, whether in business or in life, is defined by how we treat others in their most difficult moments. 'At the end of the day,' he says, 'people rarely remember your title. They remember how you treated them when life became difficult.' In a society that often prioritizes efficiency over empathy, his call to action is a reminder that the most meaningful support is often the simplest: showing up, staying connected, and remaining present long after the initial wave of sympathy has passed.
