{"id":1568,"date":"2013-10-23T07:54:00","date_gmt":"2013-10-23T11:54:00","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.silvercentury.org\/2017\/09\/what-not-to-say-to-someone-whos-grieving\/"},"modified":"2018-04-10T11:31:26","modified_gmt":"2018-04-10T15:31:26","slug":"what-not-to-say-to-someone-whos-grieving","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/2013\/10\/what-not-to-say-to-someone-whos-grieving\/","title":{"rendered":"What Not to Say to Someone Who\u2019s Grieving"},"content":{"rendered":"

A few months after my husband died, a friend said to me, \u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re feeling better and moving on with your life.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

She meant well, but her remark made me acutely uncomfortable because grief still washed over me in waves at times. No way was I ready to move on, but my friend apparently thought I should be. Her words hurt.<\/p>\n

Most of us feel awkward around someone who\u2019s experienced a deep, personal loss. We want to offer comfort, but we don\u2019t know what to say. It\u2019s a situation we encounter often as we grow older, and we frequently blurt out the wrong thing.<\/p>\n

To stem my own tendencies to do just that, I\u2019ve acquired a list called \u201cWhat Not to Say\u201d from Good Grief<\/a>, a New Jersey organization that offers peer support groups for bereaved parents and their children and for young adults. I talked to Good Grief\u2019s executive director, Joseph Primo. A graduate of Yale Divinity School and a former hospice chaplain, Primo is the author of What Do We Tell the Children? Talking to Kids about Death and Dying <\/i>(2013). He explained why some of the common remarks we make to those who are grieving can be problematic.<\/span><\/p>\n

Consider: <\/p>\n

I know how you feel. <\/b>The trouble is, you don\u2019t, even if you\u2019ve experienced your own loss. \u201cNo one knows how someone else feels,\u201d Primo said. \u201cRelationships are complex, and so are the feelings when one ends.\u201d Besides, he continued, the statement doesn\u2019t allow for dialogue\u2014for the person who\u2019s grieving to say, \u201cThis is what it feels like to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Call me when I can help<\/b>. Grief can be paralyzing, Primo explained. \u201cI\u2019ve heard so many people tell stories of how their days were just a total blur.\u201d It\u2019s unlikely the person will remember your offer of help and pick up the phone. Instead, he suggests, be clear about what you\u2019re going to do. If you know that two Mondays from now, you can take Sue out for lunch, say so. Or say, \u201cI\u2019m going to call you in a week, and if you don\u2019t answer or you don\u2019t want to talk, it\u2019s OK. I\u2019ll keep calling.\u201d<\/span><\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

Often, when death happens, friends and family withdraw within a short time. \u201cThey\u2019re hurting too,\u201d said Primo, \u201cand they may not be sure what to do with their own feelings or yours.\u201d The result is silence and isolation. Reaching out and continuing to do that over time can make a difference, he observed, even if someone doesn\u2019t reciprocate right away. They may not be ready but they\u2019ll know you\u2019re there for them when they need you.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

He (or she) is out of pain<\/b>. That may be true, said Primo, and the person you say it to may feel relieved that the suffering is over\u2014but also may feel guilty about that sense of relief and devastated at losing someone dearly loved. Grief creates layers of easily triggered, conflicting feelings. <\/p>\n

You have your whole life ahead of you <\/b>or you can always remarry. <\/b>Remarks that focus on the future and insist that everything is going to be OK discount the pain in the present moment. They\u2019re hurtful, coming at a time when it doesn\u2019t feel as if things will ever be all right again. It\u2019s hard for someone who\u2019s grieving to think about the future. \u201cIt\u2019s something they have to be allowed to do in their own time and in their own way,\u201d Primo observed. <\/p>\n

Be strong. <\/b>Telling someone to be strong denies the importance of what they\u2019re going through. Primo is convinced grieving serves a purpose: it helps us develop the coping skills we\u2019ll need to handle future losses. Yet those who are bereaved are often urged, as I was, to move on. Primo said, \u201cThere is no end date for grief. It\u2019s an evolution, a lifelong experience that becomes more manageable as people develop their coping skills and find ways to live with their new reality.\u201d <\/p>\n

So what do <\/i>you say to someone who\u2019s grieving? I like this advice from Primo\u2019s blog<\/a>: <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cTell the bereaved that you care. Tell them and then show them that you’re there if they need you, and that you’ll be there for the long haul. Take the time to listen\u2026offer a memory, and don’t make assumptions or judgments. And when you’re through with that, do it again and again until they tell you they don’t need it anymore. Give them space and give them love.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s been five years since my husband died. There are still times when something happens that would have intrigued or delighted him and I long to tell him about it. I feel his loss all over again. But the feeling passes, and I\u2019m glad I\u2019ve had it because it\u2019s a reminder not only of what I lost but of what I had for many years.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A few months after my husband died, a friend said to me, \u201cI\u2019m glad you\u2019re feeling better and moving on with your life.\u201d  She meant well, but her remark made me acutely uncomfortable because grief still washed over me in…<\/span><\/p>\n

Read more What Not to Say to Someone Who\u2019s Grieving<\/span> ›<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":1804,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"_FSMCFIC_featured_image_caption":"","_FSMCFIC_featured_image_nocaption":"","_FSMCFIC_featured_image_hide":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[79],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1568","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-blog"],"cc_featured_image_caption":{"caption_text":false,"source_text":false,"source_url":false},"wps_subtitle":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1568","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1568"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1568\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4136,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1568\/revisions\/4136"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/1804"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1568"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1568"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/78.142.243.82\/~silvercentury\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1568"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}