5 Ways to Help Someone Grieving

In the last few months I have alternated between anger and apathy toward people that walked away after Ryan's funeral. The ones that haven't even bothered to reach out. I appreciate so much more the attempt to be helpful, even though it is occasionally hurtful. I do recognize that most people have no idea what to do and we naturally withdraw from uncomfortable situations.

You can find oodles of lists in a quick search. What has been most helpful to me?

1. Checking in

"Just thinking about you."

"How is today?"

I have never experienced such loneliness in my life. I've never felt as abandoned as I have since January. Checking in reminds me that I am valuable to someone. As a widow to suicide, value is not one thing I would attribute to myself, which makes me staying alive so much harder.

2. Anticipating needs

There are many things you don't realize will happen after a loss. I hit my lowest weight (losing 20% of my body weight) at 4 months and 1 day. Underwear doesn't fit when this happens. Clothes obviously fit looser, but it's frustrating to not even have a bra or underwear that is comfortable - it messes with everything. A Victoria's Secret gift card (because underwear shopping hasn't been high on my list of things to do/spend money on) is such a thoughtful and helpful way to notice and lend a hand.

A coworker brought soup in the winter and put it in the fridge for me and another vacuum wrapped and froze smoked turkey breast and brisket and left a card saying "food is in a bag for you in the freezer". I didn't have to think, I didn't have to come up with something that sounded yummy, because honestly, not much sounds yummy nowadays. It was perfect. Just do it. "I'm making extra enchiladas and was going to bring some up tomorrow, ok?"

3. Listening

I am a pariah. I was a contagious vat of Ebola after Ryan died. EVERYONE left. There were times where I'd schedule time with my therapist just so I could talk to someone. I wanted somewhere safe where I could have a person just listen to what I was thinking and feeling without shocked looks in response, without disruption, without judgment. Life is very silent after death - perhaps folks are around to help immediately after and to dote and perhaps they are not. You would be surprised who stays around and who does not and family is not a guaranteed support system. So ask to come over and just sit and hold their hand. They may not be ready to talk. They may be scared about your reaction to what they say. Really listen. Follow up with them in a note that reminds them you heard what they said or you notice them. Nothing is stable after death. Nothing. (related: Please Let Me Have My Meltdowns) A friend that saw a photo I posted (Glitter for the Stupid) sent me a vial of green (my favorite color) glitter with a small unsigned note that said "In case you need it..." I cried. Thank you for listening.

4. Sharing

Please tell me stories about Ryan. "Did you know him?" I've asked people... Please share pieces of his life that you knew. Share your interactions with him. Remind me that he's not forgotten. I remember him every day, but it hurts to feel like others don't.

 5. No Cliches 

There is nothing you can do to "fix this"

This is actually perfect, because it releases you from the obligation to find the "right" things to do or say. The most reflective person on the planet will not draft some great speech that "cures" me of this overwhelming pot of emotions. There are countless places you can go to find the What Not to Say (related: The "Worst" Loss) but it all boils down to: "I do not know what you are going through or what to say, but I love/care about you."  If you have experienced loss and want to share your loss with me, share your personal story. Mine may not look like yours. Remember the "fixing" thing? Expecting my journey to look like yours is a mistake. It may? It may not...

((Hugs))