What can I say to a grieving person? Feminist Advice Friday
A reader wonders how to comfort the grieving people in their life.
A reader asks…
I have lost some distant family members, but I haven’t had any major losses in my own life. I recognize now that I used to be one of those people who ran from grief because of how uncomfortable it made me. You have fundamentally changed my outlook, and I now long to be a better friend to the grieving people in my life. I really appreciate your writing on grief.
But I still don’t know what to say to grieving people. I have to say something if I’m going to reach out to them, right? I want to avoid platitudes. Can you give me some scripts?
My answer
Thank you for asking this. Grief is a profoundly important part of the human experience. We all face it eventually, and to refuse to fully acknowledge it is to miss out on the depth and breadth of life.
For readers who are new to my work on grief, I hope you’ll consider reviewing some of the pieces I’ve previously written on the topic here:
‘Men just grieve differently.’ How we excuse men from meeting their partners’ emotional needs.
On allowing grief to break you, and turn you into something better
Here’s what the grieving people in your life want you to know
Feminist Advice Friday: I wasn’t there for my grieving friend. Now she’s mad.
You, dear reader, are already familiar with this work. I agree that it’s easy to tell people to run toward the grieving, but a lot harder to know what to say. There are no universally comforting words. So one of the key skills you’ll need to support a grieving friend is a skill you’ll use throughout your life, and in all of your close relationships: a willingness to be wrong, to apologize, to recalibrate, and try again.
So file this script away: “I’m sorry. I didn’t know quite what to do and I messed up. I love you. I want to try again.”
Here are some scripts that you can use with many grieving people in your life, especially when you initially reach out to them:
“This is awful. I am so sorry. I love you.”
“What was [he/she] like?” This is a great question to ask someone you don’t know well, or someone whose loved one you did not know well. For example, if a colleague tells you their father just died, you might try this.
“I’m going to call you tomorrow to check on you.” This assures the person you’ll be checking in on them. Grief is a lonely enterprise.
“Thank you for sharing [him/her] with us. Thank you for sharing their memory.”
Silence. Sometimes bearing witness is all you can do. When my mom died, her partner greeted me at the door to her house, hugged me, said nothing, then stood with his head bowed while I walked into her room to see her body. He did and said nothing, did not interfere, and did not comment. His body language conveyed respect and love, but also that he did not expect me to do the emotional labor of social niceties or tending to his needs. Sit with the person. Hug them. Don’t expect anything of them.
A memory of your own. Especially in the days after the initial shock wears off, it is so important to continue to acknowledge the loss, and to remember the person.
A quick check-in. Try texting something like, “I love you and I was thinking of you. Please don’t feel like you have to respond. Just know that I’m with you in spirit.”
Kind words about the relationship. Even if it was a fraught relationship. Especially if it was a fraught relationship. The bereaved person needs to know everything is ok, and that they did their best. “You did right by your mom.” “You worked so hard to manage a really challenging relationship.” “You’ve been a model of kindness and decency.”
“I will never forget him” “He changed the world for the better.” “She made my life better.” Talk about how the loved one’s memory lives on.
“I never got to meet her, but I can see her influence in you.”
“She would be so proud of you.”
Remember that there are no words that will cure the grief. Sometimes we just have to sit in the muck and deal with it. The goal is to show that you care—not fix it.
Some grief scripts need to die, too. So here are some reframes you might find helpful:
Don’t ask, “What can I do?” This puts the burden on the grieving person, and they’ll almost never know what to say. Instead, offer a few clear, specific things you are willing to do. “I can ride with you to the funeral home, or I can watch the baby while you call family.” “I can come over and do laundry, or I can take care of the cats for a week.” “Can I take the baby on an outing so you have a chance to rest?” Grief is intense labor. Think about what you might offer someone who has recently given birth or had surgery, and start there.
Don’t say, “This sounds really hard” or, “I can hear that you are really sad.” These sound almost mocking. They’re inauthentic, and they subtly suggest that the grieving person is reacting in an abnormal way. Instead, remove the “this sounds” and similar language: “This is so hard.” “I know you’re devastated.”
Don’t say, “I’m here for you if you need me.” They’re not going to tell you they need you, because grieving people often feel like a burden. Instead, check in at regular intervals, or when you think to do so. One of my mom’s best friends texts me randomly to ask me how I am and to share a memory of my mom. It’s one of the kindest things anyone has done for me.
Finally, don’t focus on getting over the grief, on acceptance, on any particular grieving path, or on fixing the person’s emotions. Grief can last forever. There are some losses we never get over, and most loss changes us forever in some way. The change is part of the loss, a reflection of our love for the departed loved one. Life changes us, and fighting the change only makes it more painful.
Accept your loved ones where they are, and accept that their grief is genuine, matters, and does not need to take any particular shape. Oh, and by the way, know that anger is a very common part of the grieving process, and never something to stigmatize or judge.
All of this reminds me that I have a beloved grieving person in my own life whom I haven’t checked on in a while. So I’m going to do that now! I encourage everyone reading this to reach out to a bereaved person they love, too.
Thank you for writing this and about grief. I have had intense grief these last few years and it’s opened my heart in major ways. What I do when a friend is feeling deep grief, is I go to their house and make them a nice cup of tea. And I just sit with them. If, at some point, there is an opening, I may do their dishes or clean their toilet. After my great-uncle’s memorial hoards of people descended on his home. My great-aunt had a lot of talking and listening to do. I just took it upon myself to keep running that dishwasher, emptying it, loading it, and running it again. I must have done that 7 times. But it was a practical thing I could do so that the closer family members could truly grieve the loss of their dad and spouse.
My ex died 5 months after our divorce. The loss of friends was STAGGERING. No support. It has irrevocably damaged my view of human beings. From the horrors of my ex husband's behavior to the complete failure of all but three friends to be supportive, I have really lost faith in people. Not sure how to build that back up because I can't unsee reality. I'm at a point where I just feel like the only safe thing is to rely only on myself and never anyone else. Just gotta keep earning money so I can pay for my support (cleaning people, therapists, lawyers, organizer, babysitters). When you pay money, you can rely on people, but my life experience says you can't if there isn't a clear quid pro quo.