Don’t Be Afraid of the Friend Who is Grieving… They NEED YOU.
There is this phenomenon in our society, and though some days it feels like it is unique to only me, it effects all the broken, hurting, grieving, struggling. This is for the broken ones–the ones who feel like they are so alone in their grief, alone in their difficult circumstances, because no one is asking you the real, honest questions. For the ones who are not being asked how you are. This is for you, who is not being checked up on, who wonders who on earth cares out there, and feels like no one does.
I am sorry that you have to be in a society where mourning–honestly, any slight expression of sadness or grief, causes the ones you love and need most to clam up and disappear when they should be rightfully by your side. I understand: I sometimes cry up at that big expanse of sky and scream at a God I wish I knew existed, challenging Him where the good ones are, the ones who will help me through this. And why aren’t they helping, why aren’t they asking: because I am surviving, but my cowardly society is killing.
for you, mourner, for you, weary, and for you, reader — I hope this stirs something in you, because there is someone you could be helping right now.
As I came home from a traumatic weekend, I looked around me in wonder at the ones who knew my story (some more than others), and yet did not ask the seemingly obvious questions; “how is Juge”, “how is your family”, “how are you”. The daily “how are you texts” ended the moment I stepped off the plane from being Sarah, in crisis, far away in Colorado, to Sarah, back in Washington, at school. I had spent the past four days in a hospital room, crammed with family members, wringing our hands for our loved one, Juge. My oldest sibling, my heart and soul. Precious Juge has been surviving an aggressive and rare (1%, actually) brain cancer, yet it grew rapidly in about three months. The situation from here is difficult to predict–but I love Juge, and our hearts are breaking.
I felt like something in me died, and I certainly walked around the airport like someone did. First with Caroline, four years back, a suicide left in my gaping palms, to another sibling’s cancer. I, perhaps stupidly, flew back to school, and the response was jolting.
Oh, she must be alright, she’s back in classes again. Or maybe, her sibling is still alive, it’s cool. But guess what? My crisis didn’t end–my sibling is still ill–and I am still, hurting.
And so, I am urged to write this, perhaps as a way to educate the people who need a bit of empathy training, and to a society I am wildly frustrated with.
I yelled to my friend the other day; if there is one thing that someone who is struggling never has the bandwidth to do–and quite frankly–shouldn’t have to do–is to ask for help. To ask for friends. Why would that ever be something strugglers must do? Doesn’t that seem like a backwards system; I come home from nearly losing yet another loved one, and I am asking for coffee dates, meals, whatnot? Where are the people? This is what I have learned over years and years of holding my sister’s suicide in my hands, lifting it up and begging for someone to hold me and continuously support me in my life: I got frightened stammers, half-ass sympathetic “I’m sorry’s”–or worse, told my whole life story, only to never have it asked about again. I still hide behind corners or in long showers to cry, because I know how uncomfortable/scared/whatever the hell it is people become when I express these hurting parts.
I don’t blame you, if you’re on the other side of this: no one ever taught you how to care for people who are grieving. Our western society does not have the same view of death as we do of life. Our society does not have the same view of tears or pain; that actually, these are emotions not to be shoved away as quickly as possible. That in reality, for the grievers, that is impossible for us to shove aside.
broken ones–I feel invisible. because broken ones–we unfortunately know exactly what hurting ones need, because we have walked in their shoes, but the non-(severely) hurting are scared. it feels like the people you expect most to reach out and love you when you are hurting–-don’t.
Let me explain a little more, because like all things, a lot of these attributes are ingrained in us. We are products of our culture, and sadly, American culture fails when it comes to the hard stuff like emotional pain, mental illness, suicide, cancer. We actively fail at care-giving, thoughtfulness, and compassion; at asking the hard questions that us mourners really yearn to talk about. Our society is easily made uncomfortable; think of how unsettled people become by the word “suicide”–they think if they talk about it too much, somehow, they’re going to cause someone to kill themselves. Human beings want to restore a sense of normalcy as quickly as possible…it’s human nature, I guess. We don’t know what to do with someone who is suffering. It is prevalent in our culture to gulp down feelings and difficulties and not address them (which not only causes issues and harm to ourselves, when we don’t address our personal problems), but it kills the ones who are wrestling, and don’t have you to help them.
Because what… you are too afraid to ask?
I told my mom on the phone the other day, “I wish I had a clone of myself, because if I knew someone else was going through a sibling dying, I would be asking every day what I could be doing to help”.
If you are in the midst of someone you love’s pain, are you asking “are you doing okay?” “are you going to make it?” “have you slept at all, have you eaten?” “what can I do?”
This lack of questions — lack of care, is an actual conundrum to me, and a place I lack real grace in (God, help me).
So if you are wondering of things you can do, this is a list I made from 4.5 years of experience grieving. These are things I would want people to do, that might help others.
You can never go wrong by doing these things for a grieving or traumatized friend:
* Stop by to give me a random hug … and if you’ve got 20 min to spare, ask if I want to walk for a few minutes…then, ask me how I’m doing. You don’t need to have answers. Just listen … tell me you’re so sorry I’m going through this … ask if there’s anything you can do.
* Bring me a coffee or smoothie or anything… just because.
* Tell me you’re bringing a pizza over tonight and we’re going to watch a couple episodes of Friends.
* Bring a meal over … grieving people have a hard time with self care … VERY hard. Eating and meal prep can often be one of the most challenging.
* Ask if I want some company. Even a study friend who sits beside me in the quiet helps me not feel so alone.
* Invite me over to make dinner with you (I’ll share some of the ingredients if you tell me what to bring).
* Ask if I need someone to go with me somewhere this week. Can we grocery shop together, could you go with me to a Bible study or group I’m interested so I don’t have to go alone.
* Text me and tell me you care and ask if I need anything today.
* Don’t ever be afraid to ask me how I’m doing today. Please do this often. And know that you DON’T NEED ANSWERS … you can listen to me and give me a hug … pray with me. Just ask how you can help.
* Ask how my loved one is doing … it’s okay to ask. Also ask how I’m doing with that.
* Ask about my other loved one who has died. She matters a great deal to me. What people don’t realize is that I LONG TO SPEAK HER NAME! If someone asks me about her, I get to tell you the things I LOVE about her … how special she is to me. It makes me FEEL GOOD!
These are things non-mourners have no clue about… because they haven’t been in our shoes. It isn’t their fault. Grieving and mourning aren’t sacred here like they are in other cultures.
It’s time to change that.
People eagerly address, celebrate, and make a big deal about births. but when there’s death [simply the other end of the natural life cycle] … everyone goes quiet and runs for the hills.
That’s not how it’s supposed to be.
Celebrating a loved ones life (and supporting those who mourn) are milestones of this one life we all live. It’s a privilege to serve others in this way. You grow by giving your time and emotional energy to others. Empathy, compassion, and care … those are more important than any other skills you could possibly foster in yourself.
Will you join me in taking care of the grievers? (of taking care of each other)?
