Pick up any grief book. Or, google grief and loss. Talk to anyone who has buried a loved one, and all will tell you that, when grieving, you should lean on your friends and family. You will read and hear repeatedly that when grieving you should gather the people who love you and accept their care and support. Sound advice, for sure.
Some of the most heartbreaking clients I’ve seen in my practice are those who can’t name anyone who is there for them. One young woman replied “you?” with a question mark in her voice when I asked her who she had in her life who was supportive to her. We had known each other not much longer than 5 minutes. Another heartbroken widower replied with “my wife and I (and there was a pause) we just kept to ourselves” as his tears dripped. I have forgotten these two people’s names and wouldn’t recognize them if I saw them on the street but I will never forget their responses.
I have said, to friends and family, that the time to make friends is before you need them. But friend-making can be difficult. Certain life stages are more conducive to friend-making. Extrovert personalities draw friends in more easily than introverts. Some insist — and I had a client say this recently — that they don’t need friends, that their adult children and siblings are enough.
People move and are slow to meet their neighbours — and then tragedy strikes. And, neighbours are friendly — or they aren’t. People cut ties with their families for a wide range of reasons — some valid, some less so. The elderly often struggle with friend support if they’ve outlived their friends and must rely on younger family members. And, sadly, some elderly people are estranged from their families, therefore support is meagre at best. Paid staff often tries to fill the gap — with mixed success.
Ideally, your community (and admittedly this was much more easily done when more of us lived in smaller communities) includes others who knew your loved one and are grieving as well. Therese Rando, in How to Go on Living when Someone you Love Dies, says that a funeral service helps you “form an integrated image of your loved one”. That is, you see your loved one from more than just your perspective.
I often say that the open mic that often follows a formal funeral service is one of the most important pieces of the event. Here others share with you, the grieving family, their relationship with the one who has died. Stories abound and tears mingle with laughter. One family, whose mother had struggled with Parkinson’s disease for many years said openly during the service that they were encouraging laughter, that Mom would be okay with a little fun. Later, someone quipped that they had put the FUN into FUNeral. Knowing their mother’s sense of humour, she would have chuckled in delight.
If you are reading this and feeling lonely, I encourage you to reach out, knowing that may feel risky. For some, calling one friend may suffice. For others, joining a group may fill that need. One way of forming community is to connect with others who are also grieving.
Grief (or bereavement) groups are often available via funeral homes, hospices, or community counselling agencies. If you are struggling and alone, do a quick online search to see if one of these exists in your community. I have helped lead one and saw for myself how this group of strangers grew to support each other. My co-facilitator shared that she had seen friendships form out of these groups and encouraged them to meet outside of our scheduled meeting time. To be fair, some of these friendships may have been short-lived as their starting point — a recent death — may be one of few points of commonality. But, they lent each other support when support was most needed.
Artis Henderson, in her memoir, Unremarried Widow, written after the death of her young husband in the Iraq war, describes herself as saving tidbits through the week to share with her hospice group. In one she tells the story of a minor accident after which she asked her husband if she was okay and he replied, “yeah, babe. You’re okay.”. What she needed from her hospice group was to hear those words again, “it’s going to be okay”.
Our communities cannot bring our loved ones back for us but they can assure us that we will continue to live into our futures and that “it’s going to be okay”. Different, difficult, but okay.
How to Go on Living when Someone You love Dies, Terese Rando
Unremarried Widow: A Memoir, Artis Henderson
