console

12/09/2013

Console the Bereaved with Concern, but Curtail Curiosity

Showing heartfelt concern when someone dies offers comfort and consolation. Exhibiting curiosity does not.

“The Curious” are more interested in displaying their own pain (or discovering that of the bereaved) than they are in relieving or lightening the mourner’s load. They may say things like:

“Tell me how she died.” Surviving loved ones should never be pressed to discuss this most personal, devastating event. Whether the passing was a bittersweet, peaceful, expected transition or a wrenching, abrupt and untimely, traumatic cataclysm, these details–even if made a matter of public record on the evening news–are intensely private.

“When are you going to move?” No matter how well-intended, this question assumes and imposes the burden of considering yet another upheaval in an already overturned life. Ideally, those who grieve should not make major life decisions within the first year of their loss–and when they do, those decisions are theirs to announce only when and if they wish.

“The same thing happened to my third cousin’s neighbor’s ex.” The grief-afflicted soul thinks, “So what? I don’t know them, and I’m hurting worse than I’ve ever hurt before.” The worst and most relevant grief is a person’s current grief.

“What kind of life insurance did he have?” or “What are the terms of her will?” Unless you have an already established relationship as the survivors’ attorney, accountant, or certified financial planner, questions such as these are off limits! Period.

“When are you going to stop being sad?” Even happily remarried widows and widowers “still” feel sadness over the death of their late spouses. Bereaved parents will “always” mourn the children they’ve lost. Love–and grief over lost love–has no expiration date or timetable.

“What are you going to do now?” The newly bereaved are already overwhelmed. Don’t point out the need for them to make further decisions–which aren’t your business anyway.

In contrast, “The Concerned” set aside their own importance, remembering the goal is to help their grieving friends. They interact to witness and validate the pains of the bereaved survivors they would comfort. Their words sound more like:

“Do you  need to talk about how she died?”
“Is there any way I can help you with any planning you need to do?”
“I’m so sorry for what happened.”
“Can we help you meet any immediate financial needs?”
“Would you like to talk about your feelings?”
“I’m here to support you in whatever you decide.”

Go ahead and show your friends the concern you feel for them in their grief, as long as you aren’t indulging your curiosity to do so.

08/08/2013

How I Learned What to Say When Someone Dies

People die every day, but learning the right thing to say when death happens to someone you know is not an everyday skill.

Death isn’t the only devastating loss we humans experience, but it’s among the hardest to handle. Don’t get me wrong — I’ve been greatly blessed by the people in my life, and I know many who’ve experienced far more losses than I. But I’ve lost my own share to the Reaper: my grandparents, my mother, a cousin, a nephew, a brother-in-law, my father-in-law. My husband.

When I became a widow, I began noting the broad range of “right” ways others offered condolences. Some were perfect, as if Shakespeare and Freud stood on the comforters’ shoulders, whispering expertise in their ears. Their consoling compassion flowed as naturally as their breath.

A Grief Observed, CS Lewis, Pollyanna, Grieving and Recovery, Chicken Soup for the Soul, Complete Works of William Shakespeare, TeresaTLBruce

Other friends’ imperfect offerings were just as welcome, even delivered with stammering hesitation or stumbled wording. I saw (and heard) that they were anxious enough for my well-being to overcome their own discomfort, and I loved them for their awkward attempts. [See posts filed under “What to Say.”]

I even appreciated the efforts of those whose comfortless condolences fell flat. I assumed they meant well, no matter how poorly they delivered. They tried, and their ineffective cracks at compassion showed they cared, no matter how clueless they were to how their words sounded.

I also encountered undeniably wrong things to say to someone grieving a devastating loss. A few of them belonged to the “meant well” group, but others were so selfishly stated that not even Pollyanna could find anything glad about them. [See posts filed under “Don’t Say This.”]

As I’ve met with other widows and widowers and with bereaved families whose losses varied from my own, I found my experiences weren’t unique. Wonderful, caring friends, relatives, and coworkers want to uplift their friends and colleagues in their losses. Neighbors act to show kindnesses that reach beyond tangible, outward gestures, touching the troubled souls of those nearby, easing the burdens of the bereaved.

And a few well-meaning folks, perhaps like you, could use concrete advice as to what to say and do — and what NOT to say and do — for a person you know who has lost a loved one.