Leading with Empathy: How Grief Taught Me to See the Whole Person

Work Life Wisdom #1

Five years after Alex left us, I’m still COO of six companies, Mimi to two wild grandsons, and the one who feeds nine chickens in the evenings. Three years sober. Two years off Klonopin. I sleep most nights now. But grief doesn’t clock out. It shows up in my car between locations, in my bed when I’m trying to fall asleep, when a song comes on the radio. I cry often. That’s where the real work begins.

Alex’s passing made me an empath on overdrive. I walk into any of our locations—marina office, restaurant kitchen, campground check-in—and I feel the shift before anyone says a word. It’s rarely about work. It’s a sick parent, a kid with no sitter, a rent check that bounced, or a car that won’t start. I used to react fast. Now? I listen, gather facts, then respond.

My Rule: Never Decide Until I Know the Whole Story When something comes at me sideways, I don’t answer in the moment. I say:

“Let me understand the full situation and I’ll get back to you.”

Then I do—quietly ask questions, check facts, think it through. Only then do I respond. It’s not stalling. It’s grief teaching me fairness.

How it plays out with my rockstar team members:

  • Hospitalized? Paid leave—no vacation used. That’s not rest; that’s survival.
  • No babysitter? Bring the kid. We’ll make it work (as long as they’re not climbing the tables).
  • School run? Clock in when the car door shuts. Do your work errands on the way in. The store will be fine.
  • Family 500 miles away? Take your laptop. Work from Grandma’s couch. Save the PTO.
  • Rent due and paycheck’s short? Advance on pay—no stress if I can help.
  • Quiet all week? Maybe they want a raise and feel it has been earned. We definitely need to talk and get a plan.

If my team succeeds, I succeed. Turnover has been low for three solid years—not because I’m soft, but because I see the whole person. Family-first isn’t charity. It’s the only way this works.

Every time I choose to understand first, Alex sends a sign—a Jeep rolling past, a rainbow over the water, 222 on the fuel receipt. He’s still coaching me: “Mom, get it right—be kind.”

Your Turn: Next time you’re asked something big, try:

“Let me understand the full situation and I’ll get back to you.”

Comment below: When’s the last time waiting for the full story changed everything?

#LiveMoreLikeAlex #GriefAndLeadership #FamilyFirst #WorkLifeWisdom

Published by Grief To Grace

I’m Danielle Roof, the heart and hustle behind Grief to Grace. At 48, I’ve navigated life’s toughest storms—losing my son to sudden heart arrhythmia at 23, a moment that reshaped me when I found him the next day. That pain ignited a spiritual journey, filled with synchronicities like feathers that whisper he’s near, guiding me toward grace. As COO of six thriving companies, I lead with relentless energy, balancing a low-turnover team and a bustling family life with grandkids who light up my world. From a challenging childhood to building a legacy of love and resilience, I’m here to share practical wisdom, heartfelt stories, and the strength found in faith. Let’s rise together—connect with me to explore how grace turns pain into purpose.

Leave a Reply

Discover more from Grief To Grace

Subscribe now to keep reading and get access to the full archive.

Continue reading