October 2014
Welcome --
"Grief can't be shared.
Everyone carries it alone.
His own burden in his own way."
(Anne Morrow Lindberg)
Let's go beyond the upheaval and sorrow of our own grief, and consider different ways to respond to another's grief.
Time and again, I've seen people rush to someone bereaved and immediately hijack
their process. No doubt with good intentions, they attempt to connect by remembering their own losses. Tears well up and the one offering condolences becomes the one who has to be consoled -- by the bereaved.
There's something beyond surreal about this.
Let's own that since our society separates the dying process from the living, it can be an awkward situation
not knowing what to do or say. OK -- let's begin at this point and consider other possibilities.
Instead of "I know just how you feel."/ "When I lost someone, it was awful, painful, the worst day of my life." / "S/he's with the angels now…." etc.
How about a simple "I'm so sorry". Period. Let that moment breathe. The silence might be a nice respite from the chatter we tend to create when we're ill at ease. Perhaps a warm hug, or another small gesture -- if -- you have that relationship with the bereaved.
Now let's take the practice even deeper.
In the beginning there's a huge flurry of activity that resembles some sense of normalcy and keeps the sorrow at bay. This lasts only so long. People, calls, check ins, reach outs wane
and there is even more room for the full force of the loss.
Now is the time to offer specifics, not "What can I do?", which often remains an overwhelming question. Rather -- "I'm happy to bring a meal, walk the dog, take the kids to the zoo, sit with you in silence -- whatever you need…."
Dare to be with the person vs. inside the person's grief. It's theirs, not yours. Before you rush to let them know you know what they're going through:
Stop.
Breathe.
Listen.
Just
Be.
Dare to do nothing.
Ultimately, there really are no words, are there? So, let's stop using so many that only serve to deepen the sorrow.
"Tears are the silent language of
grief."
(Voltaire)