As the natural world turns inward with the coming of autumn, the leaves falling from the trees and the annuals turning to spindly brown ghosts of their wild summery selves, it seems timely to think about grief and dying. Since Western societies struggle with dealing with grief and mourning in healthy ways, lacking shared rituals and often approaching the subject of death with resistance and denial, it's not surprising that many people feel unequipped to show support for loved ones who are grieving or going through a hard time.
I asked a few friends to share with me some of the ways that they have felt supported while grieving, and wanted to share some of my favorite insights here.
It seems to me that one of the most important roles of a supportive friend is to be present, hold space for whatever arises, and bear witness as the griever moves through their grief in their own time and in their own way. Accepting that there is often nothing that can be done and being willing to sit with difficult emotions are vital components to the art of showing up for a loved one who is grieving.
I suspect that a lot of the well intentioned yet unhelpful things that people often do in their efforts to show up for their grieving friends arise from a discomfort with difficult emotions. How often have we expressed our sadness, anger, disappointment, or grief to a friend, only to have them try to dismiss or fix it with platitudes or a silver lining? What we often need in these moments is empathy. It feels better to hear, "Wow, this is hard and scary. I see you and I'm here for you" than "you shouldn't feel the way that you do."
Sometimes there's nothing one can do. Having awareness that someone is grieving lets them know it's okay to have random bursts of ugly-tears and emotional breakdown. I've had breakdown while walking through the hallway carrying a load of laundry and I suddenly have to set it down and slump to the ground. If a support person is around and they are aware of what I'm going through, I don't have to explain myself to them. I can just let myself feel the feels so they can pass through. And without a word, after it passes, I get back up and continue with the laundry, and it's okay.
People seem to think that supporting someone through grief means "fixing" their grief. I need it to be okay to just be sad. Can I just be sad for a little while?
-- Emily
In supporting our friends, we can acknowledge and honor that the only way out of grief is through, by practicing being present to difficult emotions in ourselves and in others, without numbing, avoiding, dismissing, or repressing them. This frees us to show up to emotion and allow it to move through us (and others) according to its own process, rather than trying to deny, subvert, or control it.
In this powerful video, Karla McLaren, author of The Language of Emotions, describes how being part of a grief impaired culture influences our relationship to injustice and the suffering of others on both a personal and social scale:
"Grief is a more powerful emotion [than sadness] and contains a lot of other emotions. Grief arises when you don't have a choice.
What grief does is allow you let go completely, feel all emotions, and really experience the loss in such a way that it marks you. I don't see that people who avoid grief add very much to the depth and the knowledge of humankind. I've experienced that they are fooling themselves and not really dropping into the necessary work of being alive and knowing that death is real, that loss is real, and that there are things that you can do simply to feel your emotions ... that make you grow as a person. By going into your grief, you can address and be present for the grief of others."
Vague and open ended offers of support like, "Let me know if there's anything I can do" may seem well intended, but they put the burden of asking for help on the griever. Instead, try to come up with some specific ideas for things that might be helpful, and ask your friend if they would feel supportive. Are there any phone calls or emails you could make on their behalf? Would it be helpful to bring over dinner or stock their freezer with casseroles? How about doing the laundry or the dishes? Would it help if you organized a meal train with friends? Would a comforting touch or snuggle feel appropriate?
"Support" is an ambiguous word that looks different for everyone. At the same time, I can't tell someone what support I need. But, if they come up with something and say "can I support you in this way", it makes it so that 1) I didn't have to put the work into coming up with something for them and 2) it gives me the chance to check in with myself to see if their idea would be helpful for harmful.
--Emily
Keep in mind that each person grieves in their own way, and that grief moves according to its own schedule, not yours. If you find yourself getting annoyed that your friend still hasn't moved on after that devastating breakup, or are tired of hearing about their grief months or even years after their loss, remind yourself that the process looks and feels very different from the inside than the outside. It's often said that grief often comes in waves, and every loss is different, so patience and compassion is key.
People often stop calling and visiting a couple of months after a friend has experienced a loss, even though grief often continues long after the rest of the world forgets. Keep checking in, keep showing up. Efforts to connect and offer support are often even more appreciated after the initial shock and numbness wear off and others have wandered away.
Something small that helped me when I lost a close friend was being encouraged to use and say his name aloud. I remember feeling afraid at first to talk about him to anyone, not wanting to bring anyone down, but the more I did use his name the more I felt like I was actually acknowledging my own coping needs.
--Kira
Some people, on the other hand, may not want to talk about their loved one or say their name at all. When in doubt, ask.
Take care to leave space for your friend's experience. Heartfelt expressions of care can be supportive, but be mindful not to give your friend cause to feel that they must suppress their own feelings in order to help you manage your emotional reaction. Processing your own feelings with a therapist or another friend can help prevent you from unwittingly adding to your grieving friend's emotional burden.
Similarly...
Depending on the nature of your relationship, it may be more skillful to give of your efforts without expecting anything in return by way of time, emotional connection, information, or attention. A skillful friend will create space for connection without it feeling obligatory.
It has been an odd couple of weeks for me. I have felt a sudden influx of many folks reaching out with big questions or asks, mostly with well-meaning and good intentions, but some with requests to process their own feelings about me and what has happened with respect to the events in my life. Some have felt pretty negative.
For those that I don’t speak with regularly, if you want to give words of encouragement without expectation of response, I’m all ears. If you ask how I am, I will probably be curt. I hope to soon be able to expand myself and get back to being a responsive, approachable, supportive friend. Until then, please hold off with requests or questions until I come up for air in my own time.
-- Gretchen
Certainly, meaningful support looks different for everyone, and what works for one doesn't feel good for another. If I've missed anything here, or if you prefer receiving support differently than what I've described above, I'd love to hear about it.
What ways have people showed up for you that have felt supportive?
