the most heartbreaking part of getting older is that people you love die. and, sometimes, even if you or they are not old, they just die anyway. it's hard to know what to say to someone who's just lost a loved one. having recently become all too well acquainted with grief, and also having been surrounded by some outstandingly kind, thoughtful people during this time, i thought i'd share some of the things that have helped me. maybe they'll be of help to you too.
let's start by reminding ourselves that, unfortunately, there is absolutely nothing we can say to someone who's grieving that will make their loss any less painful. grief is the mother of all pain. the kind that feels like it should kill you because it's so unbearable and unrelenting. but it doesn't. it doesn't kill you. even though you sometimes wish it would. there is no light at the end of the tunnel when you're grieving. you're at the bottom of a deep, dark well where no one can reach you. so, yeah, let's start there.
acknowledge their pain. sit in the pain with them. don't try to make it better. you can't. the only thing you can do is accompany them through the pain, and that, in turn, will make it better for them. i have an ex-boyfriend who, when i was sad, used to say: "everything is NOT going to be ok." and i always loved that so much because it was his way of telling me that i had a right to be sad, and that he wasn't going to try to rush me through the sadness so we could get back to normal, and that always made me feel better.
encourage them to do whatever feels good and right to them. i've spent the better part of the last month and a half in my pyjamas, writing. grieving reveals the true nature of who you are. it's the coles notes version of you. just let them be who they are, and, if it applies, tell them how much you love/like who they are, just as they are, even through this period. especially through this period.
people who are grieving are barely functioning. nothing matters anymore. at least, that's how it feels to them. grief gives you an amazing ability to see right through bullshit. though they likely love and care about you, they don't have the mental energy to care about your everyday problems right now. this is not the time to talk about yourself. this is their time. if you love them, make this about them. not about you.
hug them. often.
talk to them about their loved one. and let them talk to you about him/her. if you've got stories, share them. all they have left now are memories and stories. and if you didn't know their loved one, ask questions about them. ask what they were like. what they liked best about them. what kind of things they did together. there's a fear when you lose a loved one that they'll be forgotten. help them to keep their loved one alive in their head and in their heart.
make them things to eat. they won't feel like eating. they barely feel like living. but make them something anyway. when your life is a living hell, which is likely how they feel, a homemade muffin goes a long way.
be sincere. if you can't be sincere, don't bother them.
if you don't know what to say, you're allowed to tell them that. they will appreciate your honesty.
don't tell them to focus on the good times they had with their loved one. of course they're remembering the good times. that's probably 90% of what they're doing all day, every day. they don't need you to remind them to do that. of all the things people have said to me during this period, this is my least favourite.
offer your help. try to be specific if you can. lots of people are telling them things like: "if there's anything i can do..." but they may not even have the wherewithal to know what they need right now. try to think ahead for them. offer to water their plants. to get their groceries. to mow their lawn. to take their kids out. to clean their house. to drive them where they need to go. to come sleep over. whatever you can think of. if you're dealing with someone who has a hard time asking for and accepting help, maybe try to present it as something like: "i would really love to help you right now. can i do this for you?"
be patient. people can be weird when they're grieving.
if you're feeling sad too, share that with them. you don't need to be a pillar of strength for them. they feel alone in their sorrow right now. it'll be a comfort to them to know that they're not the only one feeling that way.
check up on them often. call, email, text. you might feel like you shouldn't bother them but they won't answer if they don't want to. just keep checking in. even if they don't feel like talking, they'll appreciate just knowing that people care about them. it's a nice touch to add something like: "you don't need to answer me if you're not up for it."
remind them that there is no time limit on grief. let them know
that it's ok to feel sad for a really long time. and that it's normal.
it's understood, in the first few weeks after you lose someone you
love, that it's ok to be sad because it's just happened. everyone gets
that. they'll let you cry all you want. but later on, when the dust
has settled, after the funeral has come and gone, after the bereavement bouquets have long
died and been put in the trash, when most people are getting on with
their lives, it feels like you should be feeling better but that's not generally the case.
"it's been 7 weeks, i should probably be doing better than this." no,
you should not. you just lost the most/one of the most important people
in your life. and he/she is never coming back. you will never be
hugged or kissed or loved by that person again. ever. so, no. you're
allowed to be sad for a very, very, very long time. and that is TOTALLY
ok and absolutely justified. and i will love you no matter how long you're sad for. THAT is exactly what you want to say to someone who's grieving.
that's all i've got.
over and out.




Ain't this the truth. Glad you posted this.
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