Who I am.

I write about the landscape of grief, nature, and the wisdom of fools. The author of four books, my essays, poems, and reviews have been published in over 50 journals, including in the Huffington Post and Colorado Review. I’ve won the River Teeth Nonfiction Book Award, the Chautauqua and Literal Latte’s essay prizes, and my work has been nominated for four Pushcart Prizes and named a notable by Best American Essays. My account of hiking in Yosemite to deal with my wife’s death, Mountains of Light, was published by the University of Nebraska Press. http://www.markliebenow.com.

Thursday, May 7, 2015

Stupid Things Caring People Say About Grief


I’m a writer who lost a spouse. I’m not a therapist or a counselor, but I paid attention to my grief. I’ve also listened to a lot of people talk about losing a husband, wife, parent, sibling, child, or a stillborn baby, and there are many commonalities to grief when death rips your life apart. For simplicity sake in this post, I’m going to use the example of losing a wife, but adapt what I say to your own situation.

This is for MK who asked.

            *
Many people have not lost someone close. They want to help and take the pain away, but they haven’t experienced grief and often say what makes those who are grieving feel worse.


* If you would like to read the rest of this post, let me know and I’ll send it to you. *


For what you can say and do to help those grieving, see my post: http://widowersgrief.blogspot.com/2014/09/im-listening-what-you-can-say-and-do.html

8 comments:

  1. Presence and listening, yes. Lots of people have made me not want to share anything with them. I wish I could point them towards this clear, helpful, frank post. When you strip everything back, take away all the irrelevant stuff - it's so simple. Just be here, and realise it's not about what you think.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Well said, Emma. Well said. Just be here.

    ReplyDelete
  3. For me it felt like the day he was killed I was thrown into a big hole. The world figured that I landed that day and would begin to climb out. But I just kept falling, I had no energy or desire to stop myself from falling further. Around the end of year two I grabbed and held on to keep from falling further, but that was about all I could do. I sat in the dark hole until I realized that sitting in the hole was far worse than trying to climb out. At three and a half years out I am finally trying to climb out, but it's hard and I thought I would see light by now, but know the only way out is to keep climbing. People think the shock is the day it happens or the funeral and you go up from there, so far from the truth.

    I would add this to the list of things not to do: do not tell the person what they still have to be grateful for. You may think you would still be grateful for certain things if you were me, but when I wish I was the one that died because the pain is so horrible, please know I can't find the part of my brain that holds gratitude. On a rational level, I know I have these things, but I do not feel them.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Right. Whatever you have left pales in the face of what you've lost. The journey of grief is such a long one. I liken it to to some of the hikes I've taken in the mountains of Yosemite. The trail keeps going up, and when you reach the ridge that you thought was at the top, you see behind that that the trail keeps going higher. Eventually you've been hiking upwards for so long that you forget there's anything else and expect it will always be like this. But you keep climbing because that's what you now do. One day the climb won't be as steep. Thank you for your sharing.

      Delete
  4. Thank you for the posts that make me think and give me a place to share. I found your blog through Refuge in Grief. I may need to take her writing course, I seem to have a lot to say...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I think you would like Refuge in Grief writing course, and the community of like-minded people is so supportive.

      Delete
  5. It really bugs me when people say or do these things. But I am glad that they haven't experienced loss in a way where they would know better. I need to be patient with the ones who tell me "it's time to get over...," because their time will come when they too can understand all this.

    ReplyDelete
  6. They have no idea how much time is needed when someone close dies, no idea at all. And it's hard to be patient because we want to explain why it takes so much time. But we know that if they haven't experienced grief, no explanation will help. I wonder how long it took them to get over the death of a beloved family pet?

    ReplyDelete