I know I’m supposed to be writing this week about what to do you if you’re the person who constantly has a reason for bad behavior. That post is going to have to wait.
In the last year, I’ve known so many people who have been grieving. One friend lost her Dad unexpectedly, another had some really big family drama happen that brings deep wounds after one of her parents passed. My friend’s son died while trying to rescue a friend of his. Another friend found out about some horrific things that have happened to her grandchildren. Most recently, my friend and neighbor found out that his brother has aggressive colon cancer.
And to be honest with you, that isn’t even the whole list of people who have awful things happen in their life this year.
And every time I sit with my friends through things like this, I am reminded that as a culture, we get very little training on how to sit with our friends in grief.
We learn CPR. We take parenting classes. We teach people how to interview for jobs. But almost no one teaches us what to do when our best friend loses a child, a spouse, a parent, or the life they thought they were going to have. We mostly learn by watching other people. Unfortunately, many of them are just as uncomfortable as we are.
Very few people do it well.
One of the hardest parts of grief is that no one really knows what to do.
When someone we care about experiences great tragedy, we suddenly become aware of how inadequate our words feel.
So we either say too much or we disappear.
Neither is particularly helpful.
As a therapist, I’ve watched people carry two losses at the same time. The first was the loss itself. The second was discovering that many of the people they expected to be there simply weren’t. Not because those friends didn’t care. Most of them cared deeply. They just didn’t know what to do.
If you, like me are finding yourself sitting with people grieving here are some things to consider. My incomplete list of four don’ts and four do’s. These lists are not complete but they are a good starting point.
Don’t #1: Don’t try to fix what cannot be fixed.
Often, people try to solve the pain of grief. They try to fix it with weird sayings, “God needed another angel” etc. Sometimes, they try to just solve the grief and share silly motivational quotes, “You just have to move on.”
The problem with this approach is that grief is an experience we survive. The person grieving has to find a way to endure. They’re life will probably never be the same and they know it. The world they knew is forever shattered and broken.
They are left holding the broken pieces trying to figure out how to put them back together.
When we rush toward solutions, silver linings, or life lessons, we’re often trying to relieve our own discomfort more than theirs.
“This happened for a reason.”
“At least they’re no longer suffering.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“God won’t give us more than we can handle.”
Maybe. Maybe not.
Either way, those conversations can wait.
The person in front of you doesn’t need a philosophy lesson. They don’t need spiritual platitudes that may or may not even be in the holy book you think you’re quoting.
They need someone willing to sit beside them while life feels impossible. They need space to feel all the big emotions they are feeling and not have anyone put expectations on how they should be feeling on them.
For really big life events, they’re often just trying to figure out how to survive for the first year.
Much of our discomfort with another person’s grief comes from realizing it could happen to us. Their grief shouldn’t have to carry our fear too.
Don’t #2: Don’t make their grief about your grief.
Empathy often begins with, “I know what that’s like.”
That’s rarely helpful in these situations. Truthfully, you don’t know what they’re experiencing. You don’t need to say anything.
Just show up and be present.
Every loss is different. Every person’s grief is different. Most people who are grieving feel intense discomfort (I debated the word anger here for almost 10 minutes) when someone says something like that to them.
Even if you’ve experienced something similar, your goal isn’t to prove you understand. It’s to be a support for your friend. That support often comes by showing up and listening to them. Give them room to vent.
Unless it involves sports or politics, our society seems to be adverse to big emotions. So many people I sit with tell me how they just feel bad for expressing those big emotions about their grief.
If you really want to help your friend, be a place where they can express whatever they’re feeling.
Ask more questions than you answer. Listen more than you speak.
Don’t #3: Don’t disappear because you’re afraid of saying the wrong thing.
This may be the most common mistake. People avoid grieving friends because they’re terrified they’ll make things worse.
The truth? Your imperfect presence is almost always better than your perfect absence. You don’t have to have the right words. That false belief often leads to more hurt for the people we are trying to help.
Sometimes, “I don’t know what to say. I just wanted you to know I love you,” is exactly the right thing.
Don’t #4: Don’t put a timeline on grief.
We are uncomfortable with prolonged sorrow.
After a few weeks, we begin asking questions like, “How are you doing?” when what we often mean is, “Are you better yet?”
Grief doesn’t work that way.
An analogy I often use is that it can be like an ocean. Some days, it will be placid, calm, almost serene; other days it will be turbulent, stormy and raging. Sometimes, these two states of being can happen in the same morning, afternoon or day. Often the change will not make sense.
Some days will feel almost normal. Others will feel as though the loss happened five minutes ago.
Anniversaries. Birthdays. Holidays. Songs. Familiar smells. A favorite restaurant. Any of them can reopen wounds that never completely disappear.
It’s worth repeating that sometimes, “nothing” will rip that wound open and it will bleed inside the person’s soul.
Don’t expect grief to make linear movement. Don’t expect to make sense. Don’t expect someone to “move on.”
Instead, allow them to move forward at the pace grief requires.
Now for what does help.
Do #1: Show up consistently.
Most people receive an outpouring of support during the first couple of weeks.
Then, for everyone else, life moves on.
For everyone except the grieving person.
Grief usually becomes lonelier after everyone else returns to normal.
Send the text three weeks later. Stop by two months later.
Remember birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays.
Your consistency often communicates love more loudly than your words ever could. There is probably not a bad time to check in, even if that check in is met with silence or something you didn’t expect.
There is definitely not a bad time to send a small card, gift, or word of encouragement without an expectation that they will respond.
Do #2: Let them lead.
Some days they’ll want to talk; Others, they won’t.
Some people need to tell the story over and over. Others don’t.
Follow their pace.
You don’t need to drag them into conversation, nor should you avoid mentioning the person or loss altogether.
Simply pay attention.
Good support is responsive, not scripted. You be present and not say anything. Just the presence of a person can communicate so much love and support.
Do #3: Be willing to stay.
Most of us can tolerate someone else’s pain for a few minutes.
Grief asks us to stay longer.
To sit in silence.
To cry without rushing to stop the tears.
To admit we don’t have answers.
That kind of presence is rare.
It is also incredibly healing.
The older I get, the less convinced I become that people need the perfect words.
What they remember is who stayed.
Who kept calling.
Who wasn’t intimidated by tears.
Who showed up after everyone else had gone home.
Grief has a way of revealing who our people are.
Be one of those people.
Not because you’ll do it perfectly.
But because love has never required perfection.
It has always required presence.
None of us will do this perfectly. You’ll say something you wish you hadn’t. You’ll miss opportunities. You’ll wonder if you’re helping at all.
That’s okay.
Your grieving friend is not looking for perfection. They’re looking for someone who is willing to stay.
Send the text.
Make the phone call.
Drop off the meal.
Sit in the silence.
Remember the birthday.
Say their loved one’s name.
Keep showing up long after everyone else has returned to normal.
Those small moments rarely feel significant when you’re doing them, but they often become the things people remember years later.
You don’t need extraordinary wisdom to walk with someone through grief. You need ordinary faithfulness.
Do #4: Remember that grief doesn’t need to be erased to be carried well.
When we’re healing, it can often look like smiling followed by tears because we were smiling.
Often it is more about learning how to live in the new reality. It will often look like learning to laugh while still missing someone terribly.
Sometimes it looks like talking about them without crying every time.
Sometimes it is crying unexpectedly years later.
None of that means someone is grieving incorrectly. So much of grief is about figuring out how to move on with something that can never be changed.
One of my friends mentioned above told me that she thinks that grief is “often the person is trying to figure out how to live with something that isn’t right but is happening or has happened.”
One of the greatest gifts you can offer is permission for grief to change without demanding that it disappear.
People don’t simply get over significant loss.
They learn to survive it. And they often grieve that survival.
When we understand that, we stop measuring someone’s progress by how little they grieve and begin appreciating the strength it takes to keep living while carrying what they’ve lost.
If someone in your life is carrying a significant loss today, don’t let fear convince you that doing nothing is the safest choice. Reach out. Even if your words aren’t perfect, your presence can remind them that they don’t have to carry this alone.
You can be that kind of friend.
And I hope you choose to be.
Because someone you love is going to grieve someday. If they haven’t already, they will.
When that day comes, don’t let fear convince you to stay away. Show up. Stay longer than feels comfortable. Sit in the silence. Listen more than you speak. Let them know they are not carrying this alone.
You won’t do it perfectly. You don’t have to.
Love has never required perfection.
It has only ever required presence.
