Things to say to people who are grieving...

My cousin passed away last week.  I plan on posting something about it later but the whole experience is very fresh and I want to mull over what I want to say a bit longer.  In short and for the sole purpose of this blog post, she died unexpectedly while delivering her fourth child.  Upon hearing the news, I was understandably extremely upset and wanted to teleport to south Florida to comfort my aunt and uncle and cousins who were undoubtedly in the worst situation of their lives.  The next day, I could barely speak about it, and the subsequent days could only speak through tears about it.  I appreciate that dealing with grief is individual to the person experiencing it.  And I can also appreciate that witnessing a grieving person can be very uncomfortable.  This is my first real experience with being the recipient of condolences and I have to say that I am shocked and awed at how some people offer their condolences so gracefully and know just what to say.  And yet, I'm equally shocked and awed at how some people seem to fumble over their words and vomit the first thoughts in their head.  It is quite fortunate that I don't need to reconcile my feelings with condolences or words of wisdom, and that I'm not easily offended.  But in the interest of preserving others from the word vomit, please allow me to help you find the words.

This baby is sick of your insensitive word vomit.

Do give yourself time to gather your thoughts.  Death is shocking.  It is okay to not know what to say when someone tells you what has happened.  I'm a little more removed from the deceased and I really didn't want condolences as much as I just wanted people to know.  I wanted them to know that I was hurting, and if I needed to excuse myself for a minute, I didn't want people to follow me and ask me why.  I just wanted them to know.  So if you have nothing to say right then, it's okay.  You can say, "I am so sorry to hear that.  Nothing I want to say feels right, so instead just know that I'm thinking of you."

Don't tell the grieving person not to cry or be sad or to think positively.  Death is terrible.  There's a time to move on and beyond and start rebuilding, but immediately following the death of a loved one is not that time.  There are seven stages of grief.  Can I get through stages 1-5, first? 

Do listen.  Part of the word vomit stems from being a fixer.  You can't fix it.  Stop trying to fix it.  Just listen.  Hear them.  The person grieving may want to tell you why this death is particularly tragic or what this person meant in their lives.  They may want to tell you how much they'll miss them or when they last saw the deceased.  It's okay to not have the answers or fix it.

Don't ask the gory details.  This is to entertain your own selfish, morbid curiosity and not for the betterment of the person suffering.  You don't need to know.  And God forbid it was a painful death, the grieving does not want to relive it.  He died of cancer.  You don't need to know that it was testicular or prostate cancer.  It's personal.  She died in a car wreck.  You don't need to know that her chest was crushed into the steering wheel.  Child birth.  You don't need to know that she hemorrhaged.  There will eventually be a time when it's alright to inquire.  While the person is still grieving is not that time.  So keep your curiosity to yourself.

Do let them know you're thinking of them and their family.  Often just hearing that you're sharing their grief helps take a little bit away.  Hearing that even those who didn't know the dead are mourning their loss can be comforting.  Tell them that they've been in your thoughts.  If you're the praying type, it's okay to say that you've prayed for the family.  Tell them you're hoping they find peace and comfort.

Don't suggest that the dead is somehow at fault for their death.  Sensitivity is not some people's strong suit. Even so, I think this one should be common sense.  He shouldn't have smoke so much, and maybe he wouldn't have died.  If she would have laid off the butter and sugar, maybe she wouldn't have had that heart attack.  If he would have not tried to drive such a long distance, maybe he wouldn't have fallen asleep at the wheel.  It's incredibly insensitive.  Even if it was their fault, that provides no comfort.  So shut up.

Do write a letter or a card with your condolences if you don't trust yourself to not be an insensitive jerk.  You might say something like, "I am so saddened to hear the news of John's passing.  You and your family are in my constant thoughts and prayers."  or "My heart aches at the thought of your loss.  I'm so sorry.  Wishing you and your family well."

Don't be a sage.  No one wants to hear your ancient Mayan proverb about how their dead mom is in a better place.  What you say/write should be heartfelt, honest, and with love.  You don't need to come down from the mountain and show us the way to grieve or tell us how much better off our dead loved one is.  You know what doesn't feel good?  Knowing you won't see your deceased aunt again.

Do ask how you can help or purchase a small token.  Is there a fund for the bereaved family?  Can you bake a mean tuna casserole?  Or do you have time to stop by Kroger and pick up some manager special flowers?  Maybe a small tree to plant in the loved ones honor, or frame a particularly special photo?  Those are all appropriate tokens to show you care.

Don't compare your grief. Things that are not comforting: knowing that your grandmother died of breast cancer, too.  Knowing that you had the same labor complication, too, and almost didn't survive but thank God, you did.  Knowing that you daughter got into a car wreck last week but only broke her leg, but sorry your dad died when he was ejected from the car!  Stop comparing. No one needs an anecdote.

If nothing else, offer a hug.  This is great if you can't find the words.  Just a hug.  Hugs feel good.  Hugs allow the grieving to blow snot into your shirt, which also feels good.  Hugs don't say something stupid, offensive, and rude, but let the grieving know that you're sorry for their loss.


Based on my limited experience, if you've ever grieved the loss of someone, chances are people have said some pretty atrocious things to you.  It is my hope that you're able to laugh it off and find the comedy in the word vomit.  I have made a list to remember and chuckle at when the timing feels better.  Ultimately, we should know that intentions are good even if the words don't come out right.
 Still.  Fix your words, people.