What to Say?

“I didn’t know what to say.”

Look, I get it. it’s awkward. You don’t want to make the grieving feel worse (as if that’s possible).

But so much of life is awkward.

Ok, so much of MY life is awkward. I have no doubt you are a thousand percent cooler….wouldn’t be hard.

Ever think about how brave kids are on their first day of school? First school dance? First day of health class? First kiss? Talk about freaking awkward.

But we cheerlead and tell them it won’t be that bad — minimizing not because we are liars, but because we know if you can push past awkward, there’s good stuff on the other side: friendship, intimacy, connection, self -awareness, personal growth.

Same rules apply with grief.

If we stay in the not knowing what to say, our beloved person is left alone, possibly feeling isolated, judged, instead of supported and loved.

And we feel like jerks.

So start by asking questions. Ask these questions

(but not all at once, for the love of Pete, pick one. Read the room…it may be all you need).

Are you sleeping?
Are you eating?
Would you rather I not ask you anything?
Is there anything you really wish people would do or say?
Is there anything/anyone that surprisingly gives you comfort?
Do you have a faith base that offers anything?
Is your family a help or a hindrance?
How are people behaving toward you?
What’s it like to be back to work?
Is there tv you’ve been able to watch?
Are you able to read?
Are people giving you books to read? Is that good or terrible?

And if your beloved grieving person doesn’t want to talk that’s cool, too. Asking opens the door — totally up to them if they want to close it.

Reach out. Try. Try Harder.

It’s worth it, I promise.