The Top Five Things You Should Not Say or Do to Those Who are Grieving

I am frequently asked by others what they should say or do when a friend has lost someone to death. I thought it was time to make a list of my top five things not to say or do. I hope this helps those who are really concerned about supporting the grieving.

First and foremost put the idea out of your head right now that you can say or do something to remove the pain and heal the grieving person. You can’t. Your vain attempts may do more harm than good. So often individuals puffed up with self-importance believe they know exactly what to say and that their words will be the magic pill to swallow and eliminate all the pain. They are wrong. There is nothing anyone on this planet can do to remove that sort of anguish. The sooner you swallow your pride and realize that, the better. Your presence means more than 1,000 words. Care for the grieving person’s needs. Take them dinner. Run errands for them. Offer to stay with them through the night. Prove your concern through your actions.

Do not question the grieving person’s faith/spirituality. This is not the time to demonstrate your theological prowess and educate the person as to why their thinking is flawed. You are not the Holy Spirit, so quit trying to do His job. Trust God to work through the grieving process, and if there comes a time in the person’s life when he/she seeks your advice, give it humbly and sparingly, remembering how fragile the person is.

Do not avoid the person or act like nothing has changed when you do see him/her. EVERYTHING has changed! That person’s world will never spin on the same axis. Their foundation has crumbled. A grieving person questions everything that was ever known, every belief, and suddenly nothing can be trusted because he/she has learned that in a millisecond the whole world can come crashing down around you. If ever your friendship was needed it is now! Grieving people need to know that you can be trusted and you will be consistent. They need you to acknowledge the loss and ask questions about how they are coping in the moment. They need to know you care. I know it’s awkward, but trust me it’s a hell of a lot more than “awkward” for the grieving person. So, get over yourself and be the friend you have always claimed to be.

Do not EVER say, “I know how you feel” or any variation of that statement because you do not know how any other person feels! I don’t care if you have experienced the exact same type of loss in the exact same way. That is where the similarities end. People grieve uniquely based on biological, emotional, relational, spiritual, and intellectual factors. It is offensive to grieving people when you try to equate whatever experience you have had to theirs. Then you make it about you and your loss. For now, just listen and try to understand admitting you never will. You are not God, so give up.

Finally, do not try to rush grief. Do not get impatient when six months to a year someone is still hurting over the death of his/her loved one. It may take up to five years or longer before a grieving person begins to heal from grief. Now, if after two years there is absolutely no change, then suggest some type of grief counseling or group therapy and offer to go along for moral support. However, do not make the person feel like there is something wrong because he/she needs a little help processing the pain. Encourage them to realize little steps they have made towards recovery and be patient.

Remember, your friend may never be the same. Loss changes you. However, your friend will find a way back to you and your relationship. It just takes time. Although the loss seems like an event far in the past for you, for your friend it may feel like yesterday. Someday he/she will learn how to smile again and find joy in living, but right now it takes every ounce of energy just to breathe and do the next thing.

Is There an End?

“Is there an end to the sadness and grief?” As I read my friend’s text, I paused. I wasn’t sure if I could honestly answer. I am healed from the grief, that much is clear, but is it ongoing?

I pondered the question for quite some time. While doing so, my mind drifted back to the previous week. Haden had been distracted and moody. I was on him several times a day to stay on track and complete his school work. Tuesday it had come to a head. As he headed out the door for his piano lesson, I wondered out loud how prepared he would be since he had hardly practiced the previous week. On his way home, I discovered just how unprepared he was. He called me in tears. “Mom, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Ms. Tomi was worried about me and didn’t even want me driving.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I just started crying,” he muttered through sobs. “I just miss daddy so much!” and then the floodgates opened.

“Haden, please, don’t do this now.” I was very concerned about my teenage son driving while tears blinded his eyes. “Pull yourself together and wait until you get to swim practice.” I listened as he gradually gained control over his emotions. “What triggered this?”

  

He was silent for a moment. “I just wish dad could see me swim. I didn’t even take swimming seriously when he was alive.” There was catch in his throat.  “I just wish he could see me now.”

How did I respond to that? He was justified in feeling cheated and wanting his dad to see the young man he has become. “Haden, Daddy was always proud of you no matter what. It wasn’t your ability to swim or play the piano or anything else that made him proud. It was your heart.”

Another pause. “I know, but I have no one. I just want a dad here to watch me and cheer for me. I know God’s my dad, but I can’t hear Him.”

We spoke a few more minutes until he reached the interstate. “I love you, Haden.”

“I love you, too.”

He reached swim practice safely and he made it through this week and even through this weekend and the swim meet he had so desperately wanted Woody to see. Today he stood in church and worshipped whole-heartedly as the band played his favorite worship song. One would never suspect the brokenness which had arrested him in anguish only five days earlier.

Perhaps grief is ongoing, even though we will heal and have healed. However, what death steals from those left behind is a perpetual loss. Maybe that is what gives grief its lasting power, although it becomes intermittent and less severe. Those left behind learn to bear the burden with God’s loving assistance, and eventually they learn to put it down. Possibly, that is the end to sadness and grief, when we completely relinquish our control to God. I really do not know, but I do know the losses my children will accumulate due to the death of their father will always be ongoing. To that there is no end.

One Month Ago Today...

Today marks one month since that fateful day when our lives were forever changed. One month, and still I long for one more day—one more day to pray with you, to talk with you, to hold your hand, to hold you close, to love you completely. However, one more day was not to be, and I must hold onto the memories of the days we were given.

I have learned so much about myself during this time and about God and grief. I have learned what it is to truly mourn. I understand what it is to lament, to groan, and to feel completely hopeless. Yet, at the same time I have gained a clearer view of God’s grace and compassion. I have felt His Spirit with me every second of every day since the horrific moment you were ripped from our lives. I have learned that I am stronger than I ever thought I could be without you—evidence of God’s existence. My sanity would have left me that day without supernatural intervention. Most of all, I have learned how desperately you were loved—by me, our children, family, friends, and co-workers. You were even more amazing than I realized.

I have learned, too, that our children are remarkable. We did well. All of those late night conversations full of anxiety concerning their futures and all of those prayers for their spiritual and physical growth have come to fruition.  They have drawn closer to their Heavenly Father and have relied upon His power. They are resilient and faithful. I know you must be so proud gazing upon them from your new home. They miss you tremendously! But in time, they will learn to live life bearing the void that your absence has created. They will build upon the foundation we laid together and it will never be shaken.

I love you! I feel as if I have been walking through a fog since the day you died. I still use present tense verbs when referring to you. I still reach for your hand before falling asleep. I miss everything about you! There are moments when I can almost see a light flickering through the haze, moments where a glimmer of hope lies on the horizon. But those moments are fleeting and far too few to be of lasting comfort. In time, they will become more frequent. In time, God will give me new dreams to replace the ones which were shattered with your life. Until then, I will take it one moment at a time—occasionally, one breath at a time. And I will continue to rely on our wonderful God to carry me through until the journey leads me back to you.