I have experienced this, I believe she's correct, and I think I know why.
The death of a loved one cannot be blunted by any social means. The pains experienced during all other hardships can be somewhat muted by collective thoughts and deeds.
Not death. They're gone.
The most surprising thing that happened to me in the past years is this:
When 2.5 years ago I went through major bereavement, for a while I had some very extreme ideas. About people, about situations, about how things work.
Now that I am back to normal, I realize that during that crazy time I was absolutely correct about everything. Reminds me of that Thomas Szasz line that it's the insane who are right.
Makes me wonder whether now, back to calm and balanced adult living, I am in fact laboring under some grand illusion. If the veil of Maya once again distorts my no longer so-clear vision.
When someone dies, it's like surgical neon lights have been turned up to maximum right into your face. You see everything including yourself so clearly. Later, as time goes by and you don't heal so fast (no one does), you think, ah I am in my extreme period. I should not take myself seriously. It will get better.
And it does get better better and you realize: no, it was then, when everything seemed lost, that you knew the truth.
I am puzzled by this -- going through it all myself, like we all in this life must. Makes me wonder whether for "normal" social existence indeed we need this distance, this blur, these little collective lies. Otherwise we could not exist together, we could not tolerate each other and ourselves.
But now I know one thing: Believe the grieving. They know.
And believe the past eras when people were always in mourning -- death of loved ones was so much more tragically frequent -- because they knew something we have the luxury of forgetting.