I could easily forgive almost all of the klutzier remarks people made to me after my husband's sudden death at age 54. Including the weirdly voyeuristic one when a colleague asked me how I was doing and I responded, "Okay" — because we at a work meeting and that's no time to lose it. Her response? "Well, you're still in shock." Oh, goody, I thought: I don't feel shitty enough already, it's going to get worse? That was certainly not her intention. The one remark that struck me as truly dark was from a woman whose police officer husband had been murdered decades previously. We barely knew one another; she approached me after a public meeting, put a hand on my arm and said, "You think it'll get better. It never does." Which I have since found to be untrue and passively hostile.
Wow. That last one is pretty harsh and yes, so untrue. I mean, it will always suck but even a year in, it has gotten a tiny bit brighter. Or should I say easier to come to terms with.
I try to be mindful of where I was a year ago when talking to those who are fresher than me. In my support group newly grieving parents pop up regularly and I know for a fact that new ones don't want to hear about sunshine yet. I didn't.
Indeed. I realized at some point that a deep loss is not something you can expect to "get over" — but you can integrate it, and live a life that contains it without being defined by it.
I appreciated this, as someone who has surely stuck my foot in my mouth without realizing it when it came to offering condolences. It seems there really is no great "convention" for comforting a grieving person. Each case is individual. Each grief is unique. You can say you are sorry, and that you are here for them, and you're listening. It's hard in its own way, every time.
You're right Edie. Before my loss I had no clue what it was like to experience it. Now, looking back, I feel like I've been insensitive so many times when people I know have lost someone significant.
I remember answering a phone call as a teenager and talking to the sister of my younger brother's best friend. Her brother had died and when she told me, I said "oh god you're shitting me." And she was absolutely stone-hard and barely audible in this hurricane of grief: "I sure wish I was." I never forgot it.
I don't know if it's absurd or not what people will say, or if it is our own beliefs and expectations that make them look absurd.
The reality is when we lost someone that means so much, or a dear friend that is like your lifeline, or a pet etc, it takes part of us, perhaps our heart, our soul along with it too.
I realize in my short span of time on earth is that, most people aren't equipped with the right skills to empathize when others are grieving. They probably don't even know how to face their own hurts too and mask it up with "external performance", hence the comments - Just push through it, Just book a flight and fly to Ibiza, etc etc.
Skills that are less performance-focused and more present-focused, such as simply listening, being there for them, helping them to process or whatever their lives need at that stage (of course without zapping self), let them realize it is okay to grief as long as they need, all while also trying best that they don't do silly or harmful things to themselves.
I learned these things at a 13 when I witnessed the death of 3 family members and how it affected my mother so much. I have never seen my mum broke down so much and somehow that episode kickstarted my journey into understanding how to communicate and connect with others at all stage of lives.
Words do matter - as actions do too. We can't have one without another, not sure if I may have a change of thought in this in the next decade of my life. haha.
P.S, You got such great subscribers! love them and their insights to share.
“ The Kristi before and after those two slices of pie are two wholly different individuals.” This!!! People don’t always get that. The world is not the same, and neither are the survivors of a major loss.
I can’t believe that someone tried to grief grab and equate the loss of a husband to that of a child. When my husband died, I became filled with fear - the greatest being that my son would also die. I could not imagine that level of pain, even from the huge grief I felt in those first terrible weeks. Your Medium articles, and those of other grieving parents, helped me deal with that fear by your survival. In no way is the loss of a spouse, no matter how world-shattering, in any way like the death of a child. Some people are unable to imagine or empathize! I would die tomorrow, rather than lose my son.
While I do believe that grief can be torturous no matter who you lose, this came from a woman who has never had her own child. I highly doubt she could ever compute what it means to lose one.
It doesn't discount her feelings about losing her husband. Not one bit. It just caught me off guard to hear it.
To me it is partly caught up in the utter wrongness of outliving your child. A spouse - you always know one of you is going first. However, her loss is much greater than mine, because I was not left alone, and also ‘the worst’ had not happened to me, bad as it was. It makes more sense knowing that she was childless, but I can’t believe the things people say, argh!
I could easily forgive almost all of the klutzier remarks people made to me after my husband's sudden death at age 54. Including the weirdly voyeuristic one when a colleague asked me how I was doing and I responded, "Okay" — because we at a work meeting and that's no time to lose it. Her response? "Well, you're still in shock." Oh, goody, I thought: I don't feel shitty enough already, it's going to get worse? That was certainly not her intention. The one remark that struck me as truly dark was from a woman whose police officer husband had been murdered decades previously. We barely knew one another; she approached me after a public meeting, put a hand on my arm and said, "You think it'll get better. It never does." Which I have since found to be untrue and passively hostile.
Wow. That last one is pretty harsh and yes, so untrue. I mean, it will always suck but even a year in, it has gotten a tiny bit brighter. Or should I say easier to come to terms with.
I try to be mindful of where I was a year ago when talking to those who are fresher than me. In my support group newly grieving parents pop up regularly and I know for a fact that new ones don't want to hear about sunshine yet. I didn't.
Indeed. I realized at some point that a deep loss is not something you can expect to "get over" — but you can integrate it, and live a life that contains it without being defined by it.
I LOVE the phrase "Integrate it." Such an accurate description of what we're all trying to do.
Thanks for that Jan. ❤
this ---aptly described and related. LOVE IT too.
Thanks, Yuyan.
I appreciated this, as someone who has surely stuck my foot in my mouth without realizing it when it came to offering condolences. It seems there really is no great "convention" for comforting a grieving person. Each case is individual. Each grief is unique. You can say you are sorry, and that you are here for them, and you're listening. It's hard in its own way, every time.
You're right Edie. Before my loss I had no clue what it was like to experience it. Now, looking back, I feel like I've been insensitive so many times when people I know have lost someone significant.
I guess we don't know what we don't know, right?
I remember answering a phone call as a teenager and talking to the sister of my younger brother's best friend. Her brother had died and when she told me, I said "oh god you're shitting me." And she was absolutely stone-hard and barely audible in this hurricane of grief: "I sure wish I was." I never forgot it.
Isn't it strange how life experience or pure lack of, can change perspective?
I don't know if it's absurd or not what people will say, or if it is our own beliefs and expectations that make them look absurd.
The reality is when we lost someone that means so much, or a dear friend that is like your lifeline, or a pet etc, it takes part of us, perhaps our heart, our soul along with it too.
I realize in my short span of time on earth is that, most people aren't equipped with the right skills to empathize when others are grieving. They probably don't even know how to face their own hurts too and mask it up with "external performance", hence the comments - Just push through it, Just book a flight and fly to Ibiza, etc etc.
Skills that are less performance-focused and more present-focused, such as simply listening, being there for them, helping them to process or whatever their lives need at that stage (of course without zapping self), let them realize it is okay to grief as long as they need, all while also trying best that they don't do silly or harmful things to themselves.
I learned these things at a 13 when I witnessed the death of 3 family members and how it affected my mother so much. I have never seen my mum broke down so much and somehow that episode kickstarted my journey into understanding how to communicate and connect with others at all stage of lives.
Words do matter - as actions do too. We can't have one without another, not sure if I may have a change of thought in this in the next decade of my life. haha.
P.S, You got such great subscribers! love them and their insights to share.
“ The Kristi before and after those two slices of pie are two wholly different individuals.” This!!! People don’t always get that. The world is not the same, and neither are the survivors of a major loss.
I can’t believe that someone tried to grief grab and equate the loss of a husband to that of a child. When my husband died, I became filled with fear - the greatest being that my son would also die. I could not imagine that level of pain, even from the huge grief I felt in those first terrible weeks. Your Medium articles, and those of other grieving parents, helped me deal with that fear by your survival. In no way is the loss of a spouse, no matter how world-shattering, in any way like the death of a child. Some people are unable to imagine or empathize! I would die tomorrow, rather than lose my son.
While I do believe that grief can be torturous no matter who you lose, this came from a woman who has never had her own child. I highly doubt she could ever compute what it means to lose one.
It doesn't discount her feelings about losing her husband. Not one bit. It just caught me off guard to hear it.
To me it is partly caught up in the utter wrongness of outliving your child. A spouse - you always know one of you is going first. However, her loss is much greater than mine, because I was not left alone, and also ‘the worst’ had not happened to me, bad as it was. It makes more sense knowing that she was childless, but I can’t believe the things people say, argh!