Sometimes, Saying Nothing is Best

I heard so many platitudes when Mike died. The thing is, I know that I was just as guilty of doing the same thing. Only with lived experience could I change how I showed up for others.

“He’s in a better place” or “he’s not suffering anymore” were common refrains. Not only was that not helpful, but it reminded me of the hell I was in. I didn’t want Mike somewhere else; I wanted him with me. Another common phrase was, “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” Really? It’s really presumptuous to assume someone’s religious beliefs, and why would I believe in such a God. 

A few months after Mike died, I read Where the Hell is God by Richard Leonard, SJ. It’s a book about things said to his family after his sister had an accident that left her quadriplegic. The title comes from the question his mother asked of him. I loved this book because he disputed common things people say after a horrible diagnosis or death, and I felt comforted and understood.

I found the divine in the people who were there for me, listening and offering comfort, the thing I needed the most. No one could bring Mike back, but the support kept me moving. Friends who would cry with me were just as comforting because they could feel my pain and the loss of Mike.

In the time since Mike’s death, I’ve had friends who have had to deal with the loss of family and friends. I always reach out to them, knowing I can only offer them support. If we have friends in common, they will ask what they can do for the grieving person. I always tell them what was helpful for me: just be present. You cannot make this situation better, but you can offer the gift of friendship. Listen instead of talking, taking cues from the person who has suffered a loss.

Death is inevitable and painful. However, being there for the person suffering the loss is the best gift you can give.