GRIEF SUPPORT 101: How to Help a Bereaved Friend or Loved One

By Fran Dorf -

Thirty years after her son’s death, my friend still smarts when she remembers all the people who pointed out how lucky she was to have two other children. Another friend, whose brother recently died, grumbles that everyone keeps telling her it will get better with time. Another, whom I originally met in a grief support group, for years avoided anyone who hadn’t also lost a child. Having received my share of insensitive, even hurtful, comments after I lost my son, Michael, thirteen years ago, I certainly understand. Why do people so often say and do the wrong thing? And why do the bereaved often feel stabbed by well-intentioned comments that would normally roll right off our backs?

For all the violence and death Americans see in our “entertainment,” we want our real pain shrink-wrapped, bloodless, and over fast. Unfortunately, there is no quick fix to alleviate the volatile, long-lasting, often ugly emotional stew that is grief; no magic potion to lessen the pain, despair, resentment, jealousy, shock, guilt, anger, numbness, ambivalence, bitterness, and anxiety. Let’s face it, grief can be messy. There can be appetite, sleep, and concentration issues; feelings of isolation and rejection; even fear of going crazy or losing control. All this makes most people uncomfortable.

If you want to comfort a grieving friend or relative, your primary task is to validate his/her feelings. Don’t say anything that minimizes those feelings-which, in effect, de-legitimizes them.

WHAT NOT TO DO

I’ve found that de-legitimizers can be divided into six categories:

Babblers: These people chatter on about the weather, a friend who had a heart attack, and so on. The bereaved can’t be distracted. Ignoring an elephant in the room just makes it bigger. Be self-aware. Maybe you’re chattering because you do so characteristically, or because you feel nervous and vulnerable. This isn’t about you.

Advice-givers: People often give advice such as, Start dating again, Have another child; Take a long vacation; Concentrate on your other children; It’s time to get over it; Remember the good times. But when we hear this advice, we may interpret it as, “What’s wrong with you? If only you’d take my wise counsel, you’d feel better.” I remember people advised me to take a sedative, but somehow I knew I needed to shed a certain number of tears (more than I could ever have imagined) and that it would be counterproductive to try to mask my pain with medication.

Platitude-offerers: When you spout clichés like, God must have wanted him, He’s in a better place, You did everything you could, the bereaved may feel offended. You may prefer to believe God must have wanted him, but the bereaved person may hate God at the moment, and thus feel de-legitimized for feeling what she feels.

Pseudo-empathizers: It’s particularly distressing for those experiencing “high grief” as from child loss to hear that you know just how we feel. If you haven’t experienced the same loss, you have no idea how we feel-and maybe not even then.

Lesson-Learners: There may be profound lessons to be learned from tragedy, but it’s best to let others learn them in our own time and way. Don’t tell us, Everything happens for a reason, You never know, We must learn to appreciate our lives, or Life is short.

Abandoners: Whatever the conscious or unconscious rationalizations-fear of saying the wrong thing, or feeling uncomfortable in the face of grief-if you walk away from a friend who needs you, you’re probably walking away from the friendship permanently.

HOW TO HELP

Take your cues from the bereaved person. If she’s sitting quietly, sit beside her. If he’s using humor to cope, laugh a little. Offer a hug or hold a hand.

Let us tell our story, in as much detail as we want, even if we repeat it, even if it’s horrific and hard to hear. It actually helps people to tell the story.

Read about grief, or search online under “grief” or “bereavement.” You honor your bereaved friend by learning all you can. Good books include, A Good Friend for Bad Times (Augsburg Fortress) by Deborah Bowen and Susan Strickler, and, I Wasn’t Ready to Say Goodbye (Sourcebooks) by Pamela Blair and Brook Noel. I also recommend my own novel, Saving Elijah, which was praised by the “Washington Post” for its “tough minded interrogative approach to grief, and which for all its supernatural trappings and its wise talking, spectral literary device, is essentially an extended metaphor for the psychological process of grief.”

Acknowledge the deceased person. Tell a wonderful anecdote. Even now, I am grateful when someone mentions Michael. Just saying his name aloud brings him back into the world.

Offer practical and specific support. Make calls, pick up the kids from school, cook a meal, mow the lawn. Don’t say, “Is there anything I can do?” Or, “Call me if you need me.” The fog of bereavement is thick. Decide what you can do, given our relationship and appropriate cultural/religious considerations, and then do it.

Stay in touch. Remember that when the formal mourning period is over and the last casserole is gone, we’re still here, alone and grieving. Now is the time to show up.

Contact the bereaved on significant days-birthdays, death days, anniversaries. These are difficult, especially “firsts.” Don’t avoid, ignore, or forget them. We haven’t.

Banish the word closure from your vocabulary. There is no such thing, and who would want it, anyway? We incorporate our losses into our lives. I’m a different person than I was before I lost Michael, and my loss informs every day of my life. Psychologists have proposed many ways to describe how we find a way to live with loss, but the one I find most useful is that we must “reinvest” in a new reality without the lost one. I eventually wrote a novel and my husband and I established an educational program for toddlers with special needs, in memory of our son, but reinvestment can be small and private too, revealed in a change in priorities, attitudes, interests or goals.

Meet us where we are. Don’t have expectations. Don’t compare one grief to another. Remember that grief may take years to work through. Be prepared for tears, moaning, sighing, wailing, trembling, even screaming. Don’t take anger personally. Remember that Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s five stages of grief-denial, bargaining, anger, despair, acceptance-come not in stages but in circles and waves like a roller coaster.

The best definition of compassion I’ve ever found is a Buddhist one: “Compassion is willingness to be close to suffering.” It takes work, stamina, and commitment to support the bereaved. Be present. Be humble. Observe. Reflect. Allow silence. Don’t judge. Accept.

Listen. .
* * *

Fran Dorf is the author of the novels A Reasonable Madness (Birch Lane, Signet, Vivisphere); Flight (Dutton, Signet, Vivisphere) and Saving Elijah (Putnam), which a starred PUBLISHER’S WEEKLY review called, “a stunning novel that crackles with suspense, dark humor, and provocative questions.” Part ghost story, part family drama, and part thriller, Saving Elijah was inspired by the loss of Fran’s son, Michael. Fran also holds a master’s degree in psychology and conducts “Write-to-heal” workshops to help people cope with grief, trauma, and/or loss.

Her website/blog is http://www.frandorf.com . (THE BRUISED MUSE).

A version of this article originally appeared in Bottom Line/Personal, June 1, 2008

Myth Conceptions of Parental Grief

by David Hurley -

Over the past several years I have heard several people make ridiculous and shocking statements regarding parental grief. Most of the time they think they can help, and usually they are well meaning folks. They are comfortable in their ignorance of the realities associated with the loss of a child. Many of the statements have been heard from more than one source so they are common “knowledge.” Those inexperienced in this loss have accepted this conventional “wisdom.” They want to share it with everyone because it somehow seems logical.

I call these beliefs “mythconceptions.” They are myths in the truest sense. Passed along from many sources they become part of the fabric of grief to the uninitiated. They are almost misconceptions since people seem to internalize them before they pass them on.

I will share some mythconceptions here with a few tasteful (hopefully) comments:

“I didn’t want to say anything because I was afraid I would remind you of (fill in the name).” That’s really considerate of you. I almost forgot. Ten more minutes··· Yeah!!! Right!!! What ever makes anyone think we could ever forget? They have no idea how long it is before a day begins without the thought of a missing child. The thought is there quickly, but it NEVER goes away.

“I know just how you feel. My dog died last year.” Whatever you do, DO NOT SAY THE FIRST THING THAT COMES INTO YOUR MIND. Take a deep breath and explain that you too had dogs and cats (maybe even some fish and birds). Have buried several, and that it does not even come close in the level of pain or the lasting feeling of emptiness that accompanies the death of a child.

“Isn’t it time you just moved on?” Move on to where? We have moved. You should have seen us the first moment/hour/day/week/month/year. We are dealing with the grief, but it will never be gone completely. No one completely gets over the death of any loved one. The biggest problem a bereaved parent faces is that this is so backwards. We are supposed to bury our parents. We may bury siblings and many friends. Our children are supposed to bury us. Our brain was never prepared for this possibility.

“God only gives you what you can bear.” Maybe He has me confused with someone much stronger. In fact, if He gave this to me, I have a serious problem with Him. Help through this is welcome, the need for the help is not.

“At least you have other children so it won’t hurt as bad.” To this I want to respond: “Which of your children are you ready to sacrifice?” People who actually say this have missed the latest dose of oxygen needed for brain function. While we love each of our children differently, we love each of them unconditionally. They do not share our heart in pieces, each one fills our heart completely.

“At least they were older so you had enough time with them.” Enough time? How much is ‘enough’ time? As my children age I realize that I am in a different stage of being a parent, but a parent none the less. I will never have enough time with my children. They are busy (I guess I know where they learned that) and it is often difficult for us to find time to get together.

“At least he (or she) was just a baby so you did not get the chance to get attached to them.” Once again, this is an obvious lack of oxygen to the brain. We are attached to our children before they are even born. We plan, hope, prepare nurseries, and pick out names, dream of the future together. Early death crushes us beneath the weight of grief.

“At least you are young enough to have more children.” That classic causes as much hurt as any. When someone says that it would be appropriate to say: “You are also young enough, so give us one of yours and YOU have another one!” Even if we are young enough (I am not) we cannot replace the child that died. If they could be replaced so easily they would all be the same. I know from experience that each child in the house is different and fills the heart in a way no other can.

“At least they won’t grow up to be on drugs (or in other trouble.)” Well, that certainly makes me feel better. I am sure I would have been such a terrible parent and they would have faced such terrible outside influences that life would have been unbearable. Guess again. I would give any thing to have the opportunity to face all of those problems with my child. What we are talking about here is HOPE.

“At least they are in a better place.” That helped a lot. We try to provide the best place possible and make reservations for that better place for a much later date. The date for that reservation should be a long time after they bury us.

You may notice the last six mythconceptions begin with “At least.” I think it is safe to say that whenever someone begins a comment with “At least” you can expect that it will hurt more than help. “At least” minimizes the facts and puts you on the defensive if you allow it.

I am certain I have missed a few mythconceptions. If you happen to think of some I should include please email me at David.Hurley@gte.net. Awareness is the best defense against these comments. Education of the folks making these comments should be done with care and understanding because their ignorance is truly bliss. We can truly hope they are never “one of us.”

My Grandson Died at Birth. How Do I Help My Daughter?

From The Grief Blog, November 1, 2007

My name is Jenn and on Oct 25th 2007 my daughter gave birth to a beautiful boy. There were complications, the cord was wrapped around his neck. They revived him and he was alive by machines until the 28th. My daughter had to hold her beautiful baby while he died. The pain I feel almost knocks me to the ground. It kills me to see her go through this but sometimes I don’t know what to say. I try to keep myself together on the outside. I don’t want her to worry about me. I think she is going to need counseling What is the best way to bring it up? She has 2 other young children and they are going to need their mom back. They don’t understand why their baby brother is not going to ever come home. Jenn

Drs. Heidi and Gloria Respond

Dear Jenn,

We are so very sorry for your loss and for what your daughter has had to endure. Losing a child is the hardest thing a parent can endure and seeing your own daughter suffer this loss brings such excruciating pain to you that we understand why you say it almost knocks you to the ground. The loss is still so new and the emotions so raw for her right now that she may have no idea what she needs or wants.

It may be that, as you say, she needs counseling or even a professional grief counselor if there is one in your area. It also could be helpful for her (and you) to seek out a chapter of The Compassionate Friends. The members of this group have each lost a child and understand what she is going through.  And there are probably also grandmothers there who can help you with your own grief and help you find ways to support your daughter. You can find them at http://www.compassionatefriends.org.  If there is no chapter of Compassionate Friends in your area you may want to contact your local Hospice for a grief group recommendation.  However, we understand that groups are not for everyone.  If groups are not for you or your daughter we recommend that you reach out to your church, and friends for support.  We have found that the load of grief is lighter when it is not carried alone. 

Perhaps your daughter could benefit from listening Thursday mornings to the radio show Healing the Grieving Heart  You can find information about it and a link to it on the first page of http://www.thegriefblog.com  There are a number of past shows that may be of help to your daughter, particularly the Oct. 11^th, 2007 show with Monica Novak:  Coping with Pregnancy and Infant Loss.  There might be a number of other shows as well that bring both of you help and comfort and they can be found at http://thegriefblog.com/grief-grieving-death-of-a-child/    We often read letters from the Grief Blog on the show so you might want to tune in next Thursday. 

Know that each one grieves in her own time and in her own way and there is no right or wrong way to go about it. Encourage your daughter to be gentle with herself during this most difficult time. 

Our blessings,

Drs. Gloria and Heidi Horsley

Editor’s note: the following Healing the Grieving Heart radio programs recently aired and also pertain to this topic:

October 30, 2008
Miscarriage and Infant Loss
Guests: Monica Novak and Beth Seyda

January 15, 2009
Finding Help and Hope After Pregnancy Loss
Guest: Cathi Lammert

The Loss of My Child

From The Grief Blog, November 13, 2007

He passed away due to pneumonia
Born on: 12/09/00 - 01/01/01
One of the first things I did after my son’s funeral was to write it all down. My son’s
 short life. How much we wanted him. How much we loved him. What dreams we dreamed. And how, so suddenly, so horribly, he was snatched away from us. Without a scream, without a cry.

He was with us just 3 weeks , but it seemed he had been part of our lives so much longer. .
His death was so unreal, one minute a sleeping baby, the next a limp corpse. While it was happening I felt as if I were watching a bad mini-series. The story was unbelievable, so unreal.

I never got the chance to feel his slobbery kisses, never got the chance to fulfill all the dreams I had for us. Never had the chance to show him off and gloat in any compliments that came my way. I never got to feed him any solid foods. I never had the chance to see the joy he would have brought his brother & sister. I never had the chance to see his smile, to hear his laugh. I never got the chance to hear him say mommy, daddy.

I’ve told this story many times, in many different situations. If my life is a tapestry,
this is the brightest, thickest thread. Fabian’s death is so much a part of me, that sometimes I wished it could be branded in my head:  “I survived my baby’s death.” Although you may not see my pain, it is there, ever-present just under the surface. My pain is real. Our baby lived and died. I had to write it down and share it with you.

I must remember the depth of the love I had for my baby. It is impossible to talk or listen to the story without tears. So much hope in such a little package. There were some dark hours when I just wanted to curl up, rock in a corner, and disappear. There were moments when suicide made sense although I knew I would never take this path. For the first time in my life, I really understood depression. I felt as if I was in a closed box with no openings. It felt all consuming. I felt as if my life were over.

I am grateful God gave me a few weeks with him, to share in his spirit, to sleep with him, to feed him, and to hold him. I wish I had been able to see him grow, watch him as he learned to take his first steps, watch him walk as he made it to his first day of school. To be able to tuck him into bed and read him a bedtime story just like I do with his brother and sister. When I go to sleep at night , he is always in my thoughts and in my prayers.

He was sent to us as a precious gift, he was truly a radiant beautiful baby boy. We find ourselves longing for and loving him. As he resides in his heavenly place, may Jesus keep him in his constant care, while we wait for an eternal life to see him again…

Sonia,

Drs. Gloria and Heidi Respond
Dear Sonia,

Thank you for your beautiful and loving story. We will post it on the blog because we know it will help and console those who read it.

We are so very sorry for the loss of your son and know that there are few words that can truly console us as parents after such a loss.

We encourage you to see if there is a group of Compassionate Friends in your area. The members of this group have each lost a child and offer you understanding and support that can rarely be found anywhere else. They can be found at http://www.compassionatefriends.org. If there is no chapter of Compassionate Friends in your area you may want to contact your local Hospice for a grief group recommendation.  However, we understand that groups are not for everyone.  If groups are not for you we recommend that you reach out to your family, church, and friends for support.  We have found that the load of grief is lighter when it is not carried alone.  There is no time limit on grieving and each of us who have lost a child need to receive and give loving support.

We also invite you to listen on Thursday mornings to the radio show Healing the Grieving Heart  You can find information about it and a link to it on the first page of http://www.thegriefblog.com  You might also find a number of past shows that can give you help and comfort at http://thegriefblog.com/grief-grieving-death-of-a-child/ Tomorrow’s show is Helping Families Deal With Loss and our guest is Dr. Janice Nadeau, a psychologist and marriage and family therapist. Often we will read letters to The Grief Blog on the show and we encourage you to listen tomorrow because, if we have the opportunity, we may read yours.

Our blessings,

Drs. Gloria and Heidi

I Lost My Grandson to SIDS

From The Grief Blog, November 28, 2007

I lost my grandson Braxton Tyler to SIDS when he was 7 weeks old. He passed on 12/21/03 and I still grieve to this day. I miss him just as much today and when he died. I wonder when will it get easier ?!? I don’t talk about him much because people don’t know how to handle a conversation such as a child who has passed. Most of the time I will just go to the cemetery and talk to him and cry - that seems to help me the most.

Drs. Gloria and Heidi Respond

Dear Carla,

We are so very sorry for your loss. Losing a child or a grandchild is such a huge loss and sometimes people don’t understand why you don’t “get over it” quickly. Please know that there is no time limit on grief and there is no right or wrong way to grieve. The grieving grandparent is often overlooked in our efforts to console the grieving parent. And you and other grandparents have the difficult job of consoling and comforting your child while you bear your own heavy load of grief.

Sometimes talking about it helps and we encourage you to get involved with a grief group so you can talk about it freely with those who understand. One group we recommend highly is The Compassionate Friends. (http://www.compassionatefriends.org ) If there is no chapter of Compassionate Friends in your area you may want to contact your local Hospice for a grief group recommendation or visit a counselor for a few sessions. We have found that the load of grief is lighter when it is not carried alone. 

You might find it helpful to listen on Thursday mornings to the radio show Healing the Grieving Heart  You can find information about it and a link to it on the first page of http://www.thegriefblog.com  You might also find a number of past shows that can give you help and comfort at http://thegriefblog.com/grief-grieving-death-of-a-child/  Specifically, you might like to listen to the show aired on May 17, 2007: Thoughts on Being a Bereaved Parent and Grandparent with Polly Moore.

Again, our sincere condolences,

Drs. Gloria and Heidi Horsley