A little over eight years ago, my mom died after many years of battling brain cancer. She was 52. I was 26 and just 12 days married. It was the most devastating time of my life and one that I was completely unprepared for, despite knowing the inevitable conclusion of my mom’s condition.
This is a heavy subject, and one that I didn’t plan to write about here – but, I felt compelled to share because just a few days ago, two high school friends of mine lost their mom after a five-year-battle with breast cancer. I was sad, of course, to hear about her passing. But even more, I felt deeply empathetic to my friends because I remembered how intensely I grieved – often in secret – after my own mom’s passing. My heart aches for them and pulls me back to my own grief all these years later and reminded me of a couple things that might be helpful to know when you are reaching out to those who are grieving.
- Don’t assume they share your faith: Not everyone believes in heaven, in afterlife, or in other religious teachings. And even if they do, telling a grieving person that their loved one is in a better place is not always consoling and may act to diminish the loss that the person is feeling. Instead, tell them you are sorry for their loss, that you are praying for them (if that is your faith), and that you remember their loved-one fondly and they will be missed.
- Never say, “you must have been prepared for this.” This was by and large the worst thing people said to me when my mom died. Yes, she had been battling her cancer for years, and yes, she was in hospice, and yes, we knew the cancer would kill her. But, until that very last breath she took, she was alive and she was my mom. Nothing prepares you for the loss that you feel after that final breath. Grieving can begin when a person is still alive, and the intensity of that grows after the physical life is gone. When you say, “you knew this was coming,” you are taking away the person’s very valid – and deeply vulnerable – feelings and response to death. This remark made me feel like I needed to hide or sidebar my response to my mom’s death. I even recall at her funeral saying things like, “I know we all knew this was going to happen, so…” Screw that. Cancer sucks. Death sucks. And losing my mom sucked, no matter how or when that happened. Encourage people to grieve however they need to.
- Don’t try to make them feel better or process their emotions for them, even if it comes from a good place: Validate their feelings. If they feel angry, they are justified in that. If they feel cheated, they are justified in that. If they feel inconsolably sad, offer a hug and let them pour everything out. No matter how they are feeling, it is their right to feel it.
- Don’t offer advice unless asked: You are not an expert on their life. Offering unsolicited advice can feel like you’re trying to problem solve for them and move their grieving along. Grief is personal. It can come in waves; it can have huge spikes, or it can be a constant steady stream. Attend to your grieving friend in a way that gives them space no matter what phase of their grief they are in. And if/when they do ask for advice, offer it – but don’t mandate it. Tell them what worked for you based on how you were feeling, but also know that your way isn’t everyone’s way, because your grief isn’t everyone’s grief.
- Don’t offer to be there – actually be there: if you are compelled to offer to be there for someone during their times of grief, don’t just say you are there. Actually be there. What I mean is, don’t write it in a card and send it in the mail and think you have been there for them. Check in on them. Reach out and ask how they are, or maybe share a fond memory of their loved one that came to you while you were making dinner. Send them a funny text; join them in laughter and in sadness. Be there. Be actually there for all of it.
- Finally, don’t expect a response: If you send flowers, a card, a donation, a message, and you don’t hear back that is OK. It’s better than OK. It’s completely and totally acceptable. Do things because it is kind, because you care, and because you want to share your condolences. In return, know that you have shown the person that they are seen, and that their loved one is as well.
Dealing with death and grief is hard, but at the end of the day, try to step back, think about the person and people affected, and create a space for them to grieve on their terms. And also send brownies. Because, well, baked goods are never wrong.