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.

Wednesday, November 13, 2019

What You Can Say and Do

The CBS Sunday morning program this week ran a feature on grief that included an interview with Rebecca Soffer of Modern Loss, a website that shares personal stories of loss. One of the points brought up was that many people who want to help those who are grieving feel uneasy about saying anything because they don’t want to make the grieving feel worse. 

Below are a few suggestions for what you can say and do. I am grateful to Modern Loss for publishing several of my short essays on grief. You can find the links below.

What you do for those who are grieving is a matter of compassion that comes from concern for the wellbeing of the other person. Whatever you say or do, do it with kindness that goes beyond politeness. Let your heart respond to the person who is grieving.

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Your inclination is to want to find the right words that will take our pain away. You won’t. The pain is going to be there no matter what you say. This frees you up to be honest with us. You can say, “Look, I don’t know what to say, but I care about you.” or “Grief really makes me uneasy, but I want to help. I don’t want you to feel alone in this.” You can say, “I’m sorry for your loss.” This bridges the gap between us. It acknowledges our grief and it tells us that you care.

If you have also lost a spouse, parent or child, mention this because it tells us that you understand the general terrain of grief, and it gives us an opening to say something back. But even if you have had a similar loss, you still don’t know where in grief’s huge terrain we are until you listen to us.

If you are willing to listen, ask how we’re doing. Expect honesty. We don’t have the patience for chit-chat these days. We don’t expect you to have answers. Just having someone listen helps us understand what we’re going through because as we talk, as we verbalize our grief, we often find clarity about what we’re thinking and feeling.

A hug, or a hand on the arm, can do more for us than words. We need to know that we are still physically part of our community. 

Expect emotions. In the beginning of grief, our emotions are on overdrive. We’re not always in control. We hear a song, and we cry. We see something, and it could be anything, and we cry. You say something caring, and we cry. Don’t worry about it. Let us cry. Put an arm around us if you want. Eventually we will stop and we can go on sharing. 

Talk to us about our loved ones. It will probably hurt in the beginning, but we love to hear about them. We love to hear their names spoken. We love to hear stories about them that we never knew. We need to know that they were important to you, too, and that you grieve and not forget them.

Don’t hide. Be physically present. Don’t pretend that you don’t see us across the street. If you can’t deal with grief today because of something that you are going through, that’s fine. But wave. Acknowledge us.

Don’t try to fix what has broken, just support us. You can’t fix this. The only thing we want is for our loved ones to come back, and we know this isn’t going to happen, even if we say that we hope it does.

Grief is exhausting. Not only do we have to mourn the one who died, we also have to dismantle our old life, which is hard, and we have to construct a new life without the person best able to help us do this, and this is hard. Right now, we don’t have the energy or focus to make much of anything happen.

Grief is heart wrenching, and dealing with its demands is exhausting, especially in the first year when we will go through all the anniversaries, birthdays, and holidays for the first time. If you invited us to celebrate them with you in the past, please continue to offer to do so this year.

If we’re not eating, offer to bring dinner. Bake a pie. Offer to go grocery shopping. Offer to do specific chores around the house, like shoveling the snow or vacuuming. You can’t imagine how seeing something neat and tidy will give us a boost of energy. If we’re not leaving the house, invite us out for coffee or dinner. Even if we turn you down the first ten times, keep offering until we accept. One day we will be ready. Right now, we need to know that we are still part of our community of friends. If you ignore us, we will turn inward and start adopting baskets of cats. Parakeets. Or both.

Let us know that you continue to think about us. You don’t need to do much. Sending a note now and then helps. Continue to send cards and call in the months to come. But if we’re good friends, then sending cards is not enough. It’s not a substitute for coming over for coffee. Cards only serve as place markers for our friendship, and only for so long.

Besides being a good friend, you can also learn from us. As you listen to us talk about grief, you will learn how grief moves and how it feels. Then, when someone you love dies, you will be familiar with grief’s general landscape and won’t panic.

We will always love the people who died, so we will always grieve that they are gone. But we will learn how to live with this, with your help.

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Modern Loss links:

Saying goodbye to a wife between her organ and tissue donations.
On rock climbers and risking death.
The first Valentine’s Day after a wife has died.

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