Human Resources
Spelling it Out: Grief in the Workplace Through the Lens of Scrabble
Written By RoMaine K.J. Wise — Sr. Consultant, Exude Human Capital
Grief is a word many of us know, yet few of us are prepared to play when life places the tiles in our hands. It’s emotional, unpredictable, and—like the game of Scrabble—requires strategy, patience, and grace. Grief doesn’t ask permission. It shows up uninvited and sits at the table, daring us to take our next turn while we’re still trying to remember the rules.
My love for Scrabble goes far beyond the board. It’s something sacred—an heirloom of memories with my father. Scrabble was our language. Our scoreboard of laughter, challenge, intellect, and love. Every triple-word score was a celebration; every questionable two-letter word was a debate. I didn’t know then that the lessons learned across that board would one day help me navigate the realities of workplace emotions—especially grief.
Today, I want to honor that space and use Scrabble as a lens to understand grief in the workplace—because whether we acknowledge it or not, grief does clock in with us. 
Grief Isn’t a Word to Avoid—It’s One We Must Learn to Spell
Let’s break down G.R.I.E.F., Scrabble style:
G — Give Space
In Scrabble, you don’t rush your opponent. You give them time to consider their tiles, weigh their options, and search for meaning.
In the workplace, grief requires the same courtesy.
Employees may need quiet moments, modified workloads, or emotional room to breathe. Productivity is not a fixed score. Loss interrupts rhythm—and that interruption deserves compassion, not criticism.
R — Rearrange the Board
Sometimes, you’ve got all vowels and no direction. So, you shift.
In grief, people often struggle to reorganize their expectations, routines, and roles. Leaders must recognize that grief alters someone’s cognitive load. Tasks once simple may now require extra steps. Rearranging work temporarily isn’t a weakness—it’s strategy.
I — Interpret Without Assumptions
In Scrabble, you don’t assume a word is invalid because you don’t understand it—you look it up.
In the workplace, don’t assume someone is fine because they showed up.
Grief is not linear. It doesn’t expire after a funeral or neatly resolve after three days of bereavement leave. Leaders must learn to ask, not guess. Support begins with curiosity, not conclusion.
E — Extend Grace
Scrabble teaches humility. The same person who crushed a 78-point word last round may suddenly be left with a handful of Q’s and no U.
Grief drains cognitive sharpness, emotional endurance, and decision-making clarity. Extend grace—not performance pressure. Empathy is not a perk; it’s a leadership competency.
F — Form New Words
Eventually, you learn to take what’s left on your rack and create something new.
Grief doesn’t erase the past—but it reshapes our relationship with it. Employees returning after loss are not returning as they were. They are spelling life differently now. Workplaces should be places where individuals can grow forward, not “go back to normal.”
Grief at Work Is More Common Than We Admit
Most organizations have policies for onboarding, payroll, and PTO—but not for human pain.
Grief shows up as:
- A loved one’s passing
- The end of a marriage
- A diagnosis
- A child leaving home
- Financial upheaval
- A dream deferred
- A loved memory triggered unexpectedly
Not every grief is obituary-based, and not every loss is visible.
When we ignore grief, we don’t remove it—we simply push it into the conference room, where it sits quietly, misunderstood, and unattended.
Scrabble Taught Me What HR Never Explained
My father never said Scrabble was teaching me emotional intelligence, but it did:
- Words matter
- Placement matters
- Timing matters
- Connection matters
Every tile held power, but only when used with intention. The workplace is no different. Our people are not just resources—they are individuals spelling out life one tile at a time.
A Tribute to My Father
Every time I sit at a Scrabble board—physical or metaphorical—I feel him.
His laugh.
His strategy.
His patience.
His ability to turn seven random letters into something meaningful.
He taught me that language isn’t just spoken—it’s lived.
And now, as an HR professional, I understand that workplaces need the same truth:
We cannot expect productivity when people are spelling grief with no tiles of support.
If we want engaged, resilient, high-performing teams, we must build cultures where humanity and performance are not competing words—but intersecting ones.
Closing Tile
Grief changes people. It rearranges their letters.
Our job as leaders isn’t to demand they play the same word as before—it’s to help them discover new ones.
If we can learn to hold space the way Scrabble taught me to—patiently, creatively, respectfully—we can create workplaces where people don’t just survive loss…
They learn to spell their way forward.
Watch our webinar: Work & Grief
Watch: RoMaines Disrupt Philly presentation: Beyond Bereavement – Grief at Work
