I’m not trying to bum you out with all this grief business. But it’s life, right? And I didn’t quite finish what I wanted to share in the last post.
And that’s this: Sage advice for friends who want to help, but aren’t sure how.
I was a third of my way through the first draft of Shelter Us when I discovered/decided that protagonist Sarah Shaw, a mother of two boys, had had an infant who died. Up until then, she was just a woman struggling with an unnamed loneliness.
I decided to make Sarah virtually friendless. (Okay, I admit that part of this decision was connected to the fact that this first-time novelist wanted to juggle as few characters as possible. This may also explain why Sarah and her husband are only children, with one living parent each).
But a weightier part of the choice to make her friendless was my intuition that a mother who had lost an infant would lose friends, too. It was too easy to see living examples of this situation. I could look at myself to understand a person who, in the presence of great loss, did not know what to do or say, who shied away from facing another person’s pain directly.
While doing me the enormous favor of reading my manuscript, GriefHaven founder Susan Whitmore confirmed this phenomenon. When, in the story, a neighbor withdraws from Sarah, Susan wrote in the margins, “Sadly, this is so common. We lose friends – they think ‘it’ is contagious or it makes ‘them’ too sad to be around us. Another huge issue of anger and loss we deal with. It is very sad.”
Susan made sure that GriefHaven would not only offer resources to grieving parents, but to the friends wanting to support them (as well as these resources for children.).
In How to support grieving parents, Susan guides, “What you can do is this:
Just “be” with the parent when they are grieving. Share your own feelings about the child’s death, such as, “My heart aches for you. I wish there were something I could do.” or “I care so much,” or “I miss Joey too. I remember him running down the street with his friends,” or “She will never be forgotten.” Those types of comments are real and come from your heart.
Also, just listen. Listen. Listen. Listen.
Also, cry with the parent. You don’t need to be stoic. Your tears will not upset the parent. Quite to the contrary, your tears show them that they are not alone. We often hear that crying with someone is healing for the parents and siblings. This also applies to grandparents and other family members.
As part of trying to help parents and siblings, avoid trying to help them see some kind of “silver lining” in their lives, such as pointing out all of the “blessings” the parents still have. For instance, you would want to avoid saying things like, “You have other beautiful children” or “At least you had her for seven years” or “She’s in a better place” or even “You need to be strong.” What is true strength anyway? We would say that it takes real strength to feel the pain, deal with it on a daily basis, and let it be expressed in whatever way works. That is true strength.
One more shout-out on this topic, then I’m done. The brilliant, funny, wise Judy Silk wrote a beautiful piece after her husband Dan died. She said, in a nutshell, “Please talk about him. Say his name.” As much as death is a part of life, we don’t really know what to do or say, what will help. So I am grateful for the wisdom, hard won, of two extraordinary humans, whose lives and words can shine a light down the darkened path we may all walk down one day.
2 thoughts on ““Good Grief!” or How to Be a Friend (Grief Haven, Part 2)”
Beautiful advice, and I agree that feeling those painful emotions requires enormous strength. Listening is SO important – and when someone has suffered a traumatic event, they might need to share their story over and over again, looking for a way to make sense of it..or just wanting to let the pain “out” somehow, instead of bottling it in .. I know this is how it has been for me when I grieved over a miscarriage and divorce. But with each retelling, I think a little of the pain shifts….and hugs, crying together, and just being witnessed and knowing I’m not alone mean so much. Thank you for this wonderful post! xoxo Susan
Thank you, Susan, for sharing about what helped you. In the course of writing about how a baby’s death affected a family, I have heard from many people who experienced a miscarriage and felt that they either didn’t want people to know, or couldn’t talk about it. It’s a big loss, too, and important that women can feel supported and loved as they go through it and the pain that comes with it. And of course, that they will come through it and there will be laughter again.