SOUTHLAKE, TX – After leading teams in the medical device industry for over three decades, Bryan Scott McMillan has concluded that the most vital leadership lesson he learned came not from business but from personal tragedy: the death of his wife to cancer. This experience drove him to volunteer with organizations such as The WARM Place and Camp Sanguinity, and to establish Families with Holes, a nonprofit dedicated to connecting grieving families with practical support and counseling resources. Now, he is urging communities to step up for those mourning by showing up consistently, long after the initial shock has faded.
McMillan emphasizes that many people worry about finding the right words, but grieving families rarely remember exact phrases. Instead, they recall who kept calling months later, who brought dinner on an ordinary Tuesday, and who stayed present. This insight aligns with the staggering prevalence of grief in the U.S., where the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) reports over 3 million deaths annually, affecting millions of spouses, children, parents, friends, and coworkers. Additionally, research suggests that approximately one in twelve children will face the death of a parent or sibling before adulthood, underscoring the widespread need for support.
Despite these numbers, many grieving families feel isolated after the first few weeks. "We rush toward people immediately after a funeral," McMillan notes, "then life speeds back up. Grief doesn't. The hardest conversations often happen months later, after everyone else has gone back to normal." He draws parallels to his executive career, where solving problems required attention and follow-through. "Helping grieving families works much the same way," he says. "Listen first. Keep your promises. Stay consistent."
The importance of such consistency is backed by public health research. The CDC has identified social isolation and loneliness as significant health concerns linked to higher risks of depression, heart disease, dementia, and other serious conditions. Supportive relationships can enhance emotional well-being and aid recovery after major life events. McMillan does not expect everyone to become grief experts; rather, he hopes they become dependable neighbors, friends, coworkers, and family members. Simple actions, such as driving a child to practice or dropping off groceries, can profoundly impact a grieving family. "Those aren't small things to the family receiving them," he insists. "They're huge."
To help readers take action, McMillan offers practical suggestions: call someone who has lost a loved one and ask how they are doing; mark important anniversaries and birthdays to check in; offer specific help instead of the vague "let me know if you need anything"; bring meals or run errands in the weeks after a funeral; invite grieving friends for a walk or coffee without pressuring them to talk; listen without trying to fix everything; support local grief centers through volunteering; encourage children to express grief in their own way; and continue reaching out long after others have stopped. "My hope isn't that everyone becomes a counselor," McMillan says. "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."
McMillan's leadership philosophy extends beyond the workplace. Whether leading a team or supporting a grieving neighbor, the same qualities matter: consistency, compassion, humility, and a willingness to act. "At the end of the day," he reflects, "people rarely remember your title. They remember how you treated them when life became difficult." By embracing simple, consistent acts of care, individuals can reduce isolation and remind grieving families they are not alone. It is through steady presence, practical help, and patient listening that meaningful support is truly offered—long after the initial wave of sympathy has passed.
