Our society likes to
have things ordered, packaged, and controlled. This bleeds into our
understanding and analysis of the grieving process. Most people are probably
familiar with the “5 stages of grief” model (denial, anger,
bargaining, depression, and acceptance) and think that people pass through these stages like clockwork
within a year-long time frame. Only during this period does the grieving person
have permission to feel the loss. After a year, the person has a societal
obligation to return to the normal, compartmentalized life of a non-grieving
person. From my experience, I have never denied the loss of my mother, nor have
I tried to “bargain” her way back into my life. And I certainly never felt
anger about it until a few months ago, way after the immediate acceptance and depression I experienced after the loss that
happened four years ago. I think it’s safe to say that most people who have
experienced a deeply personal loss would agree that trying to process their
grief through a 5-stage process is, for lack of a better word, crap.
Grieving is a lifelong
journey that affects people in different ways and appears during different
stages of life. Every person's context and situation surrounding the loss of
their loved one is completely unique. We should never generalize, summarize,
stereotype, or otherwise reduce someone's experience to a 5-step process. At
the same time, it is important to recognize that people DO grieve in this
pattern. Some people may not even feel any of the stages, and may not grieve in
any sense that we understand. The point I’m trying to make is that ALL types of
grieving are real and legitimate reactions to a traumatic event.
Unfortunately, because
our culture fears death and prefers to avoid confronting the deep, ugly, raw
emotions of complete defeat, hopelessness, fear, loneliness, and chaos that
come from experiencing the death of a loved one, this 5-step process emerged as
a way of managing the discomfort of confronting those emotions. As a result,
many people who have not directly experienced this type of pain are, forgive
me, a bit clueless when it comes to knowing how to comfort and support those
who want it.
When
the time comes for you to support a loved one, friend, etc., below are some
suggestions for what to avoid and ideas for what you could say instead. These
examples are often the "go-to” phrases that most people use in a
conversation about a lost loved one. While they come from a good place, I don’t
believe they are the most effective ways of offering support. Sometimes they
can even do more harm than good. Please take these ideas with a grain of salt.
No one is the same: people respond in different ways to diverse approaches of
support. These “tips” stem from my experience. As you read along, I hope you
understand why the alternative options may be better. Maybe you can use them
the next time you need to offer support.
Don't say...
"You are so
strong."
This
is probably the most common phrase I heard come out of people's mouths,
especially when I was crying uncontrollably. When a person is feeling so weak,
defeated, and helpless that they are crying in front of another, probably the
last thing they want to hear is a reminder of what they have to do every single
day. For me, I feel like I have to be strong all the time, everyday. Frankly,
it's a relief when I can breakdown and cry and ignore the constant expectation
to be strong so that other people don’t have to deal with confronting the reality
of grief and sadness. Telling someone they are strong when clearly in that
moment they are not, can be annoying, and worse, damaging. If someone is being
fed the message that they are not allowed to be weak, it pushes vulnerability
aside, which then results in pushing emotions aside and thinking that their
friends don't want to see them in any state but the "strong" one. It
is okay for people to cry and show emotion. Strength is one of many traits
people may gain from experiencing loss.
Instead, say...
"When [X] happened,
how did you feel?"
This allows the person
to explain their feelings instead of you telling them what it is they should
feel. The best thing you can do is try to help the other person articulate the
feelings they have. A lot of times, there simply are no words to describe the
emotions! Sometimes they just need to feel them and the only way to express
them is through crying, laughter, silence, or anger (but never let a grieving
person take their anger out on you). Give the other person a chance to
articulate their own experience for themselves. It is difficult! Be there and
listen actively.
Don't say...
"God/Life has a
reason for everything."
"God never gives
you more than you can handle."
At the risk of being
controversial, I’m putting this out there. These two spiritual phrases can be
iffy for 3 reasons: 1) Are you God? Do you have such a connection with the
almighty, omniscient being that you can actually tell normal people what God
actually thinks and why God acts? I didn't think so! So please stop acting as
if you know what God is doing. (Sorry not sorry if that offends) 2) If someone
has a strong sense of faith or spirituality, the repetitive use of the first
phrase may start to make the grieving person think that God did this to them on
purpose as a punishment. I shouldn't have to go in depth as to why this is a
toxic way of thinking. 3) The 2nd phrase has similar effects to the "You
are so strong" phrase. If God gave you what you can handle, why are you
feeling this way? People need to feel pain and hit rock bottom. It has nothing
to do with their character or the strength of their faith. Feelings are a gift
from God (or biology, however you want to think about it) whether we like it or
not, and it’s important to validate them as real and legitimate.
Instead, say...
"Does going to
church/prayer help you?"
"Do you want me to
come with you to church/a concert/the park?"
"Would you like to
do [activity]?"
Ask them what specific
things help. If they do not know what helps, which may well be the case, be the
person who is willing to try things out with them and if they feel the need to
leave, leave with them. Asking for what specific things you can do to help, and
not dismissing their feelings to God, is a concrete and tangible way a grieving
person can feel comforted and supported.
Don't say...
"I remember when my
[dog/fish/3rd-cousin-twice-removed] died. It was awful."
This phrase is probably
meant to connect your experience with theirs and comfort them, knowing that
they are not the only ones who have felt loss. I'm sorry, I know losing pets
and distant relatives is awful, and even losing parents in their 90's is awful.
But it simply is not the same as losing a parent or a sibling or a child when
they are young or middle aged. Every grief is different. This phrase merely
turns the focus of the conversation from the grieving person to you. This
sometimes prompts the other person to comfort YOU instead, when in this moment
it clearly should be the other way around.
However!! If you have
lived through a similar situation, someone's dad died at 15 and your dad died
when you were around the same age, it can be an IMMENSE comfort knowing someone
has gone through a similar situation. It just takes some tact to know when to
tell them, so that again they don't feel the need to comfort you.
Instead, say...
"I don't know how
you feel, but I want to try to understand and be there for you."
It’s perfectly okay to
admit your own ignorance. It shows the person that you are humble. The second
part, “I want to try to understand and be there for you”, again places the
focus back on the person you are comforting and gives them the chance to tell
you how they feel and what they might need. It lets them know you are truly
invested in helping them throughout the journey in the months and years to come.
Don't say...
"I'm sure they're
watching over you right now."
"They're always
with you."
This one may seem
surprising. This phrase does absolutely nothing for me. The usual response I
want to say is "Yeah, she's always with me even when I shower and pee and
spend time with my friends getting drunk at a bar," but I hold my tongue
so I don't sound sarcastic and dismissive of their attempt to comfort
me. The whole point of grieving and feeling loss is processing the fact that
the lost loved one IS NOT THERE. They are NOT HERE. Any attempt to lessen that
fact of the matter is, to me, dismissive to the immense feeling of loss that the
grieving person is feeling.
Instead, say...
"I always remember
your [lost loved one] when I [insert activity or memory here]."
This phrase is immensely
comforting. It reminds the grieving person that other people do still think
about the lost loved one and that the memory of the lost person won't fade out
instantly. One of the only ways dead people exist in life is through memories,
and that is one of the hardest thing to come to terms with. Having an idea
about how others remember the lost person allows the grieving person to
remember them in more ways than their own, often complex, memories. Never
try to tell the grieving person how they should remember their lost loved one.
This brings me to the…dun dun dun…worst thing you could say:
Please never say this...
"You should start
seeing the positive of this situation."
This is completely,
utterly, and frankly rude. This may seem like you are trying to tell the
grieving person that you have their best interests at heart and hate to see them
in pain, but it does nothing of the sort. It completely dismisses their pain
and signals to the grieving person that they should never feel pain associated
with grieving from here on out. It also reveals that you really do not care
about the person's feelings and that you do not want to be around them when
they are not happy and positive. If you do not want to "deal with" a
grieving person, this is a tactless and insensitive phrase to use to signal to
them that you don't care.
Instead, say...
Nothing.
If you cannot promise to
the person that you can be there for them, don't! People grieving need to know
who they can count on. If you know that you do not want to support this person,
then don't give false hope and tell them you will. If you still want to be a
good person, refer them to people who know them better. It's not a bad thing to
admit that you don't feel equipped to help, just like it’s perfectly okay to
admit your own ignorance. Humility is a good thing.
Three more things I want
to say:
My blog post is not the
only article about ways to help a grieving person. Do your research online. If
you know the person really well, you should be a bit familiar with what could
work and what wouldn't work.
To the grieving person:
don’t be afraid to let your close friends know what does and doesn’t work for
you! It’s really hard to ask for specifically what you need. It’s tempting to
accept any and all help, even if it’s not the help you need. Instead, think
about ways you can let others know what you need to hear and feel from your
friends.
Finally, please remember
that not everyone is the same, and therefore everyone’s grieving journeys will
differ. Empathy, time, and patience are what you truly need.
