On 3/22/21 I shared a “truth” I have experienced, about grief. I called it a “Public Service Announcement” and it was this: “Time does not heal all wounds.” I started thinking there may be more grief “truths” that would be helpful to share thus the “series” portion of today’s post title.
Disclaimer: My words never assume someone else’s loss experience is the same as mine, or intend anything but compassion and empathy. The dynamic of loss is one I have lived out my entire life having buried friends, family, and my own children. No two losses are the same (if they were I would be building a “survivor’s algorithm” to share instead of just exploring a couple of key concepts that may help.)
When someone dies, either by natural causes, illness or violence those of us still here are faced with the challenge of being forever changed and trying to create a new normal. Our loved ones want to help (us) but don’t know how. Or perhaps we are not the griever, but don’t know how to support someone we love that is mourning.
“I don’t know what to say.”
I have heard this hundreds of times around my own losses but also talking with others who are trying to help their loved ones. Today’s PSA is, that a lot of times there is no right thing TO say, particularly if the death is tragic or early in someone’s life. But there are a wide range of options between not wanting to say the wrong thing, and saying/doing nothing at all.
The next time you find yourself wanting to support someone in grief, try asking a simple question, rather than trying to make the pain stop, which we really can’t do for each other anyway.
A simple inquiry such as “What’s it like for you?” Is an easy way of inviting someone to open up (if they want to) or letting the conversation end if they give only a brief answer.
When we are around someone in grief, not only do we not know “what to say” but we also don’t want to bring it up, for fear of pouring salt in a wound that is healing or quiet.
Grief PSA #2: When you lose someone you love, it never goes away. It’s already on our hearts.
No matter where I am, what activity I am engaged in or situation I find myself, rest assured I am already thinking about my Daughter Alexis who died in 1997 at 13 months old, and my Son Emmanuel who died in 2002 the day of his birth. There is no risk that someone can “bring it to mind” and make me “sad” because the despair is already there. All the time. Incessantly. Sure as I am breathing.
Asking: “What’s it like for you?” Is a way to acknowledge that things are forever changed, and let that person know you are aware of it. It provides a safe space for a short response such as “All good, what’s done is done” to indicate the person does not want to engage in that convo.
It also provides an opportunity for sharing our experience if we want to. That response would look something like “Well, every day is a different …”. Take your cues from the response, listening carefully, and attentively.
Mostly, when we are struggling and feeling isolated, it just helps to know that someone cares. The content of the conversation itself may be less impactful than the message itself: “I am standing by you even if I am helpless.” Because when there is a death, we actually are all helpless. Where we go from here is new shared journey that we have to learn to navigate together.
When there is nothing to say, it is not a failure on your part. It is a shared “stuckness” that time can soften (but not fix). Each time someone in grief has a chance to share our experience, we feel just ever so slightly less alone. And if we prefer to say nothing (not everyone is a “talker) it is still a comfort to have someone acknowledge what is the thick, sludgy, heavy energy that may be surrounding us when we are in pain.