When I started writing I’m Small But I Lost Someone Big, I was deep in research mode. Not just about the book, but about grief itself—especially what it looks like in children. I kept finding myself drawn to tools that didn’t rely on words. Not because words aren’t important, but because grief, especially for kids, rarely shows up in neat sentences.
We attended grief counseling at Judi’s House here in Denver and that’s how we found memory drawing.
Over time, it’s become one of the tools I recommend most. Not just because it’s creative or comforting, but because it’s backed by real science. Drawing gives kids a way to process sadness, anger, or fear when talking doesn’t come easily. It helps make the loss visible. Not in a scary way, but in a way they can shape, hold, and sometimes even share.
This post is a roundup of what I’ve learned—about memory drawings, emotional processing through art, and how a crayon or marker can sometimes say what a child can’t.
Why Memory Drawing Works: How It Helps Kids Process Loss
There’s a reason kids so often reach for crayons before they reach for words. Drawing doesn’t require them to explain. It gives their feelings shape—sometimes literally. Here are a few ways this simple act supports children who are grieving:
Some kids draw storms. Others draw someone missing from the picture. One might just scribble in black until the page is full. It’s not about being artistic—it’s about finding a safe way to show what hurts. I came across a beautiful piece on Fundación MLC’s site that talks about this: how drawing gives kids a space to express fear, sadness, or confusion without being asked to explain.
It also helps them remember. Not just in a factual way—but in a way that feels warm, lived-in. A drawing of Dad at the beach. Grandma in the garden. A bedtime ritual that still makes them smile. These kinds of images help preserve something psychologists call a “continuing bond,” which is a really important part of healthy grieving. By the Bay Health has a helpful resource on this if you’re looking for ideas to try at home.
And then there’s what it does to the body. Drawing isn’t just expressive—it can be calming. Focusing on shapes, colors, slow hand movements—it all signals the nervous system that things are safe again, even if just for a little while. Research in the National Library of Medicine shows that art-making lowers cortisol and activates the body’s rest-and-restore response. That’s huge when a child is stuck in anxiety or overwhelm.
What the Research Shows: Real Outcomes from Drawing Through Grief
I’ve always felt like art has a place in grief or mental health work—but I didn’t expect to find this much data behind it.
One 2023 study looked at kids who were given drawing prompts after experiencing a loss. The results were striking: those who drew showed a 42% drop in negative emotions like sadness, anger, and overwhelm—compared to kids who were just talking through their feelings (ERIC study). That kind of shift makes a difference, especially when everything feels stuck.
Another study dug into emotional literacy—the ability to notice and name what you’re feeling. Kids who processed their grief through drawing scored 35% higher in being able to identify emotions like guilt, worry, or loneliness (James Madison University study). That doesn’t just help in grief—it’s a life skill.
And in clinical counseling settings, the impact goes even deeper. A report shared by Willow House showed that 78% of children who drew about a parent they had lost became more open in follow-up sessions (Willow House report). The drawings didn’t just sit on the paper. They became bridges—making it easier to talk, to feel, to remember.
Ideas That Help: Techniques Caregivers Can Try
One of the most powerful things we can do for a grieving child is offer them ways to express what’s going on inside—without pushing or forcing it. Through all my research, I’ve come across a few drawing-based ideas that are both simple and incredibly meaningful.
One I come back to often is asking a child to draw a favorite memory. It might be something small—like the way their dad tucked them in or a silly face their aunt used to make. That kind of drawing keeps the connection alive. Or you can try something like, “What would you say if you could give them a card right now?” A few children’s grief counselors suggest prompts like this to help kids express things they didn’t get to say. Crossroads Hospice has a great write-up on this.
You can also invite kids to draw something more symbolic. Instead of asking directly about feelings, try, “What does sadness look like?” or “Can you draw your worry as a creature?” These metaphors help kids externalize things that feel too big to hold. There’s a great clinical resource here that includes more of these kinds of prompts.
And it doesn’t always have to be a solo activity. Sometimes it helps to draw together. You don’t have to be good at it. That’s the point. It’s about sitting with the feeling, side by side. Drawing how your family will support each other. Or just letting them know they’re not the only one missing someone. The team at Crossroads Hospice talks about how collaborative art can open up shared space for grief and connection.
Closing Thoughts
I didn’t set out looking for memory drawing. It just kept showing up—in our grief counseling sessions at Judi’s House, in research, in grief books, in therapy models, even in casual articles. Over and over again, I saw that kids who couldn’t talk about their feelings could often draw them.
Not every drawing turns into a conversation. Some just get folded up and tucked away. Some are scribbles that feel like nothing. But that’s part of it. Grief isn’t tidy. And kids need ways to let it out that don’t require being brave or well-spoken or ready.
If you’re reading this and trying to figure out what to do next, you’re not alone. This is one place to start.
