HONORING GRIEF

Have you ever had a friend or loved one have something great happen in their life and they tell you how happy they are? What do you say in response?

A: “That’s great. I’m so happy for you.”

B: “Don’t be happy. You should still be worried about that credit card debt you have.”

C: “You should remember all the starving children in the world.”

I’m assuming for most of you, it’s A.

So here’s another scenario. What do you say when a friend or loved one experiences a life altering event and they tell you how sad they are?

A: “I’m so sorry. That is really hard.”

B: “Don’t be sad. Think of all the ways you are blessed.”

C: “You should focus on everything you have to be grateful for.”

If you’re honest, it’s not always A, is it? In fact, more often it’s probably B or C. People who care about us don’t want us to be sad. It makes them sad and possibly uncomfortable. So they try to whisk away our feelings and replace them with positive catchphrases. The intention is to help their grieving friend feel better, I have no doubt. However, saying something like (B), “But think of all the ways you’re blessed,” dismisses valid feelings of loss and sadness. Saying something like (C), “You should focus on everything you have to be grateful for,” only shames us for our feelings.

The fact is, in order to move forward, we need to be allowed to grieve. Every therapist will tell you that: Don’t stuff your feelings. So why is it so often our instinct to be intolerant of others’ not-so-happy feelings?

Since the end of my 25 year marriage, I have come across a host of responses to my process of grief. Some friends haven’t been in touch with me in the past year since I’m no longer part of a couple, making me recognize I had a lot more friendships of convenience than I realized. On the flip side, the relationships that remain have deepened and new friendships have emerged. 

I don’t marinate in my grief nor would I ask my friends or family to wade through a constancy of sorrow. But that doesn’t mean they dismiss my feelings, either. I have several friends who have been through a divorce, and hearing, “It’s dark now, but it gets better,” has been tremendously helpful. It acknowledges where I am, but gives me hope -- simple and effective. I also have several friends who lift me up by unexpectedly pointing out the things they see me doing well during my difficult circumstances. These kind gestures are infinitely more encouraging than being told that I need to only focus on the good things in my life. What we are going through may warrant us to feel overwhelmed at times. So, tell us we’re brave. Tell us you admire our grace. But don’t tell us not to feel how we feel.

  

My sisters tend to empathize by echoing my feelings. I think some people might be afraid that agreeing with a grieving person might make us feel worse. If we’re telling you that we’re upset/stressed/overwhelmed/sad, we already know we are. You’re not putting those thoughts into our head. We’ll move through it eventually, but for now, it helps to have validation from those we love that it’s ok to feel the way we do.

Just as being happy doesn’t mean we don’t still have concerns and worries, grief is not a mutually exclusive emotion either. I can still be grateful for the good things in my life. I can still feel blessed to have my health and my son. I can even still feel joy doing things I love, but at the same time, I can be processing my loss. The good news is, emotions are never static.

The next time someone confides their sadness to you, I hope you will pause your instinct to offer a positive spin. Instead, consider honoring their feelings – just as you would if they were happy - and allow them the authentic space to move through their grief so they can truly heal.