Ship of Fools: People seem to not know how to respond in bereavement

Thread: People seem to not know how to respond in bereavement Board: All Saints / Ship of Fools.

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Posted by no prophet's flag is set so... (# 15560) on :

Do they?

It seems that the motivation people have to say things is to reassure themselves that the world is a safe and predictable place with their queries and statements: wanting to elicit that the bereaved are okay. Grateful that it isn't them who're dealing with it. Am I unkind with this?

Posted by Raptor Eye (# 16649) on :

There are lots of reactions, often depending upon whether people have faced bereavement themselves or not. The best response I had the first time I was bereaved was to let me know that there is a grieving process, albeit an unpredictable one, and that one day I will find that I didn't think about the deceased for a little while.

Someone else simply took hold of my hands and said they didn't know what to say. That was good.

Others crossed the street. One accused me of speaking morbidly when I talked about the person who had died.

It's not easy for anyone. Forgiveness of others and of ourselves is perhaps more important in bereavement as it is at any other time.

Posted by L'organist (# 17338) on :

When my other half died the overwhelming reaction of most people other than close friends was to avoid us. A few acquaintances asked how the children were coping but that was about it.

We had quite a long time between the death and the funeral - the children were taking their 'A' levels and the timetable was not helpful - and the reaction post funeral was most definitely that the funeral marked the end of "bereavement" and we were expected to get on with things as normal.

Musical friends and people in my choir were fine, but even my PP didn't really mention it - for example, I was called 2 days after the death to check my availability to play for 3 other funerals which I thought was pretty crass...

Posted by Curiosity killed ... (# 11770) on :

I hadn't realised how difficult it was until I chatted to another mother whose child had been sick at the same time mine had been, only her child died (leukaemia, looked as if she was recovering then succumbed to a fungal brain infection). We'd been quietly supporting each other for a while as dealing with similar situations. She said that after her daughter died it was even worse, that day I'd been the only person to talk to her.

The other thing I heard from someone was that it wasn't the immediate aftermath as there were tasks to be done, like organising a funeral and sorting out all the people who had to be informed. It was people not remembering on the anniversary of the death might be a difficult .

Posted by kingsfold (# 1726) on :

And the best responses I had when I was bereaved were the friend who shook my hand and said "Good to see you back" and the priest who said "You've been in our thoughts a lot these last days".

I couldn't deal with the people who were so anxious to let me know they were there for me, and who wanted to spend time with me to check I was OK and how I was doing etc. I know it came from friendship and care but it was about their need to feel useful, and wasn't in the least what I needed.

I suppose the way I wanted people to response to me was simply to acknowledge what had happened and to let me know I could ask if there was any help I wanted or needed. And not be to be offended if I said no. And I guess that's how I'd hope to respond to others.

But inevitably that would doubtless be entirely the wrong thing to say/do for some....

Posted by jacobsen (# 14998) on :

I was working in a German opera house when my mother died, quite unexpectedly, at home in the UK. Everyone, from the GMD to the stage hands, made a point of saying "Herzlichen Beileid" (deepest sympathy). That covered it, and was a gracious way of acknowledging my loss without intruding.

Posted by Huia (# 3473) on :

D is a man in his late seventies, early eighties at our Church who is quite private and undemonstrative. We often sit together. After I had been away for my father's funeral and to pack up his house D commented on my absence. I said,"My Dad died." D reached out wordlessly and gave me a hug.

Even now, several years later I am deeply touched. Of all the people at the Church to have responded that way, it still surprises me and I am deeply grateful.

We still sit together most Sundays.

Huia

Posted by Raptor Eye (# 16649) on :

What doesn't necessarily help is when people tell you that they know how you feel, then tell of their own bereavement experience.

Standing alongside and being ready to listen might be the best response.

Posted by Hedgehog (# 14125) on :

I often think of a bit from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, "The Body." Buffy's mother has died an unexpected but natural death. The whole episode dealt with grieving but at one point Buffy confides to Tara (a new member of the group) that the others mean well, but they have never had a parent die. Tara then reveals that she had lost her mother, followed immediately by saying "I know it is different for you, because it is always different."

I think that is what makes responding to bereavement so difficult: it is different for everybody. It is always different. When my father died, the most helpful thing was something that nobody would think of: I had had plans to meet a friend for lunch. I left her a message to say that I wouldn't make it because my father had died. I spent the day with my emotions bottled up because I had to look after my mother and deal with the hospital and all the other things that need to be done after death. I needed to keep it together. When I finally got back to my own house, my friend had left a message expressing regrets...but she broke down crying while doing it. Now, she had never met my father--the tears were for me. And that served as a key to let me unbottle my own emotions and having a good crying jag. Later, she apologized to me for breaking down on her voice message, but it was really the best thing that could have happened to me at the time.

But that's me. It is always different.

Posted by Moo (# 107) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Raptor Eye:
What doesn't necessarily help is when people tell you that they know how you feel, then tell of their own bereavement experience.

My older daughter was nineteen when her father died. When a college classmate said, "I know just how you feel." she replied, 'Then you're way ahead of me, because I am badly confused."

Moo

Posted by Rossweisse (# 2349) on :

It is always different.

It's just two years since my father's funeral, and I still think about him every day.

Posted by Huia (# 3473) on :

I was totally freaked out by a comment after Mum's death. The woman, who I think meant to be supportive, said something to the effect that my mother was now watching over me.

It sounds foolish to say now, but I felt really paranoid and needed to talk to it over with someone whose theology and pastoral skills I trusted. [Paranoid]

Huia

Posted by Amos (# 44) on :

Many people do their best but don't get it right. Many others are so afraid of getting it wrong that they avoid the bereaved person, which is arguably worse. Some people are genuinely obtuse. To preserve my threadbare cloak of anonymity I won't share my anecdotes (which are legion).

Posted by Piglet (# 11803) on :

The bloke who did my mum's funeral was a tub-thumping, retired United Free Church minister who came from Northern Ireland and sounded uncannily like Ian Paisley. He'd been very assiduous in visiting Mum before she died, and Dad decided to ask him to officiate. I think he may have regretted it.

In his homily, he kept banging on that the ONLY REASON [my mum] was going to HEAVEN was because of her FAITH in JESUS CHRIST*.

That may be so, but is was about as comforting as having cold water thrown in your face. He's not going to be doing my dad's.

* shouty capitals intentional

Posted by The Intrepid Mrs S (# 17002) on :

NP, when my father died, it seemed to me that my mother the Dowager could take offence at anything anybody said, however well-intentioned.

It appeared that the important factor was who was saying it, not what they said, and if you weren't the right person it didn't matter what you said, it would always be wrong.

My point is only to say - cut people some slack. They don't know what to say but if they are trying to say something, that's better than them saying nothing and pretending everything is just fine. What will help one person will irritate another beyond bearing, but - here's the rub - till they say it, they don't know which it will be, and quite possibly neither do you.

On a lighter note, I told a friend one day that I had at last worked out what to put in a condolence card - basically, they couldn't have asked for a better family/daughter/whatever, you did all you could to help them, one day you'll forget all the suffering and remember them in happier days, etc. Later that week her father died - guess who was struggling to write the letter? [Killing me]

Mrs. S, mistress of the standard letter

Posted by Lyda*Rose (# 4544) on :

quote:
Originally posted by Piglet:
The bloke who did my mum's funeral was a tub-thumping, retired United Free Church minister who came from Northern Ireland and sounded uncannily like Ian Paisley. He'd been very assiduous in visiting Mum before she died, and Dad decided to ask him to officiate. I think he may have regretted it.

In his homily, he kept banging on that the ONLY REASON [my mum] was going to HEAVEN was because of her FAITH in JESUS CHRIST*.

That may be so, but is was about as comforting as having cold water thrown in your face. He's not going to be doing my dad's.

* shouty capitals intentional

It'a bit funny but my brother (who is a missionary) did something close to this, sans the shouting, at my dad's funeral for his bit of the eulogy. He talked about how important it was to be right with Christ in this life as our father was. I had some liberal Christian friends there who were mortified. But from my brother's POV it was all good: he met one of dad's friends there and the man later asked to be baptized.

Posted by Piglet (# 11803) on :

Having been an Anglican for well over 20 years (and getting further up the candle the older I get), I wasn't expecting to find his sermon very uplifting, but didn't quite expect what we got.

I got my own back by crossing myself as he gave the blessing ... [Devil]

Posted by jacobsen (# 14998) on :

tsk, tsk, Piglet! [Disappointed]

Posted by Stercus Tauri (# 16668) on :

Age has a lot to do with how we respond, I think. Now, I am not young, and when my very aged mother died, the instant reaction from one friend was, "You've got a mother!?" and we both cracked up. In general, if I am surprised to hear of a bereavement, my first reaction is to ask the bereaved person how he or she is, and not to offer help, as that demands a response. My wife will say as little as possible and start making pies, which she will deliver to the bereaved. That always works, and doesn't need many words. The hardest was when a young person had died. I said to her father, on impulse, "Let's go for a walk". We went for a long walk and said very little, but arrived back at the house as if we had said it all - I am not sure how that worked, but it worked. Another time, a bear hug was better than words. Impossible to generalise. But if anyone ever tells me, "I feel your pain" I am likely to makes sure that he does.

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