Picture in your mind, someone you have interacted with, who has been struck by grief.  Imagine anyone you have crossed paths with suffering from the gut wrenching, agonizing, and heartbreaking, loss of a loved one. Hear what he has said to you in those moments of struggle. Recall the thoughts that whirled through your mind.  Feel your emotions, frustrations, and discomfort in those interactions.

You are a friend, family member, colleague, or stranger of this grieving individual.  You feel helpless.  In response to any feelings or struggles our griever has shared, you dispense, like a soda machine, the products believed to be sought through finger punches.  Our griever, craving a bubbly thirst quencher, instead observes a bottle of plain flat water clanging against the inside walls, and falling to her feet.  You purge a sigh from your throat, scavenge through a basement full of dusty thoughts, and finally stutter a string of meaningless words together to form a hopeless sentence.  She stares at the rectangular black one-way swinging door, disappointed, once again. Her fingers striking the keypads was her yearning for something more – acknowledgement of her pain, and an invitation to share fond memories.

You desire to be helpful, attempting to find treasure by digging holes in every square foot of a desolate field.  You worry you will cause more upset, tip-toeing around the floor of a second story apartment, avoiding that one creaky spot.  Unfortunately, there is no single sentence to ease the pain. In addition, avoiding the facts causes empathizing to be nearly impossible.  

Death has barged into my inner circle and disrupted my equilibrium twice now.  Through personal searching, growth and healing, I have collected a velvet bag of wishes – wishes for actions that those around me would follow. I am sharing these acts with you, not only for my own wellness, but also to assist countless others – our grievers and our supporters.  Our grievers are those clawing the walls at the bottom of a ditch. They are struggling to find their way out after death set a trap on their life path.  Our supporters are the ones leaning over the edge of the hole, racking their brain. They are trying to determine how or if they can help her feel less alone while she is stuck down there, potentially assisting in her climb out.

First, we must simply gaze over the edge, down into the deep, dark, murky abyss. Although seemingly the most simple and natural, my first recommendation is often avoided.

Acknowledge the pain.

Sometimes, they are the first words that pop up in your blind-sided cranium.   You probably do not even realize when the admission appears.

I want you to clear your thoughts. Close your eyes for a few seconds.  The following statement was said outloud to me by a dear friend I care deeply.  As you read these words, I want you to pay close attention to the first thought that jumps into your mind.

…

My dad died three months ago, and then my girlfriend of five years moved out two weeks ago.

…

Did your immediate response include a word that you feel should be censored, by chance? I am going to encourage you to remove your filter in these moments. I will lead by example.

That fucking sucks.

It does!  Losing someone is the absolute worst. It is horrible. To make matters more awful, because this man is grieving, he is pushing others away at the time he needs them most. Holy shhhhhhhttttt. That is heart-breaking! [Sigh] That really fucking sucks.

Acknowledge the horrifying misfortune of the details our grievers share. It is not going to surprise them, I promise! You will not have someone respond with, “oh really? Oh wow I did not realize that the loss I am facing is so devastating. I am so glad you cleared that up for me! Thank you.”

They will instead respond with enthusiasm and a release of anger, “yeah, it does fucking suck! It is the absolute worse.” Our grievers already know how crushing their loss is. However, they are unsure of your awareness of the pain, or your willingness to recognize that shattering reality.

Removing avoidance as your innate response, and opening up to the raw truth, is one way to reduce isolation among our grievers. Looking up at you, while at the bottom of their steep, muddy, trench, they will feel a little less alone.  To abseil a few feet down, while adorned with a super hero cape of empathy,  you need to show an interest in learning more about their loved one who death selfishly seized.

My second recommendation may be surprising, or sound intrusive.

Ask questions.

Ask questions like you would ask if this person was still alive. Our grievers loved this person, and therefore, have fond memories of this person.  Do you enjoy answering questions about the people you love? Of course you do! The difference is, it is easy to tell stories about our friends and family that are still alive.  Others invite and urge us to elaborate on who they are, and what our relationship is like. Does that happen when we mention a loved one who has passed away?

Following are two sets of statements – one set about my brother,  (who is still living) and one about my mother (who passed away a little over two years ago).

My brother visited for Thanksgiving, with his dog.

I am trying to figure out what to get him for Christmas.  

He just had a birthday a week ago.

You might follow up and ask me, “how was your time with him when he visited?” or, “what ideas do you already have for gifts?” or, “how old is he?” You respond with an invitation for me to share more about my brother.

However, what if I said,

“This was my first Thanksgiving at home without my mom,” or

“I really have been missing my mom this month coming up to Christmas,” or

“My mom’s birthday is four days after mine?”

Your heart might sink, and then, your mind goes blank. You freeze and do not know how to respond. You whisper, “I am so sorry.” If you knew my mother, these statements could cause you to experience sadness. If your mom is still alive, these statements could cause you to experience guilt. Either way, when I say the statements about my brother, you are interested to learn more, and ask questions.  However, when I say the statements about my mother, you feel trapped, uncomfortable, and in a position you were not prepared for.

Next time a griever makes statements about missing their loved one, try responding the same way as if the departed was still alive. Respond with genuine interest, and with the desire to get to know who she was and what their relationship was like.  Remove the focus on our griever and her sadness. Remove the focus on your mother who is alive. It is okay to feel sad too, but remember, our grievers are reaching out to you in this moment. They are expressing a fond memory of a person who is desperately missed. Invite them to share details of those memories.

Death reached in and plucked a loved one from our world.  The person pulled away is unique. The way in which she is taken is particular. The people who felt the earth shake as that soul parted ways with her body, are diverse. There is no universal action you can take that is guaranteed to ease the pain. There are no agreed upon words that wrap a warm sweater around the shoulders of someone shivering with grief.  The open wound, will never heal completely.  The hole of anguish, has to be tackled over time, and with support from others. If we acknowledge the pain, we may curb our grievers experience of solitude while they are at the bottom of their pit of heartache.  If we show genuine interest in getting to know the departed’s spirit, we are doing more than simply looking over the edge. Inviting additional details to be shared, we grab a rope and descend into the abyss a few feet.  With practice, you might build the strength to scale down the whole wall, stand beside her, and gaze up at what she is facing.  

No matter what, do not leave anyone to attempt to claw their way out on their own.

Update:

It has been brought to my attention that not all grievers want to talk about their loves one who has passed away. Personality types, and sometimes gender, will definitely create variations in one’s comfort and enjoyment in reminiscing about someone who has died. It might feel too sad to even think about him/her. Keep this in mind as your interacting, but don’t let it deter you from talking. Be gentle with your questions, and empathetic to one’s individual reaction to them.

Please share your own experiences and thoughts below in the comments. This is an ongoing discussion.