Pyotr Trofimov (name changed) had only been in Germany for three weeks when he received the news that his father had passed away in St. Petersburg. Had it not been for Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine, he would have still been in Moscow and not in the Bavarian city of Bayreuth.

Various estimates suggest that between 650,000 and 1 million people left Russia after the full-scale war in Ukraine began in early 2022. Not all of them planned to stay abroad long-term, and even fewer could have imagined that returning home would eventually become dangerous. That meant that some had to face the death of a loved one without the option of saying goodbye in person.

Trofimov is one of them. Before Russia's invasion of Ukraine, he was a Ph.D. student at Moscow State University and was planning to look for a job abroad after graduating in 2024. The war, however, changed his plans, and so he found himself in postgraduate studies at the University of Bayreuth.

"It was a spontaneous decision made after the war began," Trofimov explained.

He added that he was afraid of what was to come next and assumed that the move to Europe would help him build a more stable career.

Loss begins with immigration

When Trofimov learned about his father's death, not even a month had passed since his move to Germany. He was still trying to find a place to live and deal with the bureaucracy that comes with moving abroad.

"If the circumstances had been different, I would have simply traveled from Moscow to St. Petersburg. It's not a difficult task," he told DW.

Yet his spontaneous move turned it into a far more difficult one: a return journey would have cost him a few thousand euros as direct flights between Russia and Germany were halted after the war in Ukraine broke out.

Trofimov scheduled a meeting with a psychologist just hours after having found out about his father's death, which helped him cope with the initial shock. Still, he needed time to come to terms with the loss.

"You can't just snap out of it. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way," he said.

According to Olga Harlamova, a rational-emotive-behavioral therapist based in Munich, this was not Trofimov's first loss since moving to Germany.

"The loss begins with the very act of emigration. Often, we don't realize it, so we don't go through the grieving process," she told DW.

"It all builds up: the loss of a job, the loss of a social circle and ultimately, the loss of status and a sense of security," added Harlamova, who moved to Germany from Belarus back in 2000.

When a person also faces the death of a loved one against the backdrop of all these losses, coping becomes even more difficult, the psychologist said.

Does time really heal all wounds?

Polina Grundmane is the Sweden-based founder of the psychological support NGO Without Prejudice. Born and raised in Moscow, she launched Without Prejudice in March 2022 to help Russian speakers seeking psychological support in light of the war in Ukraine.

Because of her NGO work, Grundmane said it was no longer safe for her to return to Russia. She said she was threatened with detention upon arrival, and as a result she couldn't travel to Russia to say goodbye when her parents died within three months of each other in early 2024.

"My parents were everything to me. And in an instant, I was left an orphan," said Grundmane.

"If I could change everything, I would have never launched this NGO," she added. But back in 2022, she didn't feel like starting it was "some kind of heroic act," but rather a "completely normal" way to help others.

Grundmane has not yet been able to come to terms with the death of her parents.

"As the head of a psychological support NGO, I'll be honest: firstly, time doesn't heal everything ― it's possible to not get over a loss. I haven't gotten over mine," she said. "Yes, my mind understands that my parents are gone. But I don't process it any further, because it would destroy me. And I don't want to do anything that would destroy me."

Yet Grundmane's professional background gives her a clear understanding of how her mind copes with difficulties. And so, she assumes she will be able to start processing her grief once she has a chance to return to her apartment in Moscow and reunite with her sisters.

But for now, daily exercise, therapy and her children are helping her to stay afloat.

"I see my children as a continuation of my parents," said Grundmane.

Finding closure through farewell rituals

In March 2022, video producer Alexander Slavin moved to Belgrade. A year later, his grandmother died. He was unable to fly to the funeral due to security concerns after he found his name in a database tracking anti-war Russians who had left the country.

"To be honest, I still have these constant internal conversations with myself about whose funeral I would attend. Probably no one's," said the 29-year-old, adding that these thoughts sometimes truly burden him.

On top of that, Slavin still struggles to accept that his grandmother is gone.

"I have this inner feeling that I haven't really come to terms with it," he said. Sometimes he catches himself thinking that if he returned to Russia now, he would find his family exactly as he left them.

"Obviously, that's not how it works," he added with a sad chuckle.

According to therapist Harlamova in Munich, farewell rituals can help find closure. "Saying goodbye isn't just about the moment at the grave," she explained.

When she lost her grandfather and was unable to attend his funeral, writing letters to him helped. However, that's not the only option: one can pray, display pictures or plant a tree. As long as the acts help us come to terms with the loss, the only limitation to farewell rituals is our own imagination, said Harlamova.

Grundmane from Without Prejudice pointed out that open communication with loved ones can alleviate intrusive thoughts about their possible death. She recommends discussing with your family what you would do if they died.

Talking about this topic, "even if with a touch of humor", helps reduce anxieties surrounding it, she said.

Dealing with grief: What experts recommend

Some may also start blaming themselves for not being there for their loved one during their final days. This self-flagellation creates the illusion of control.

"If it's my fault, I could have changed everything," explained Harlamova of the thought process.

According to the therapist, people need to allow themselves to feel all those emotions. First of all, they need to allow themselves to grieve.

"When a person cries, talks about their experiences, and ― most importantly ― receives support, it activates the nervous system's regulatory mechanisms," she said.

To support someone who's grieving, one simply needs to be there for them.

"Don't give advice," Harlamova stressed. "The most important thing is simply to give space to that pain. Sometimes you can just sit quietly beside them and hold their hand."

According to Harlamova, feeling empty is a sign that you are emerging from the acute stage of grief.

"This feeling marks a point at which you can start building something new and shifting gears," she pointed out.

At the same time, acceptance doesn't mean the pain will disappear. Grundmane said the grieving process is a lot like dealing with addiction. Rather than saying they've been cured, addicts count how many months or years they've managed to stay sober.

"But they will always be addicted," Grundmane said. The pain of loss never truly goes away  people simply learn to live with it, she added.

Edited by: Carla Bleiker