Please don't take any of this personally... it is really just a way of formulating my thoughts and putting them in a cohesive manner that I can understand. I am still doing well, but have certain moments of deep, sad feelings of grief.
What Not To Say To Someone Grieving:
Please...
Don't tell me you understand how I feel, or that you can imagine the pain I am going through, unless you have lost the love of your life. Trust me, you can't. If I can't understand, and I am going through it, trust me, you can't – your mind will just not let you voluntarily imagine pain in this aptitude.
Don't try to compare my loss to the loss of a grandparent, or a friend, or an acquaintance or pet, it's not the same. I understand that all of these things are painful, but it is not remotely close.
Don't ask how I'm doing unless you really want to know. Just because I look good, doesn't mean I feel that way. I am assuming that since you have asked, you truly want to know.
Don't try to save me from my feelings or make me feel better. I know you can't bear to see me in so much pain, but I need to go through all of these feelings whether I want to or not.
Once you have "given me permission" to talk or cry, please don't try and distract me with small talk. I know it makes you feel better if I appear happy, but that is just not always the reality.
Don't tell me everything will be okay.
Don't tell me "he's always with you".
Don't tell me "he's no longer in pain".
Don't tell me "he's looking down on you from heaven".
Don't tell me "you're lucky that you had such love, some people don't".
Don't tell me "he's in a better place".
Don't be surprised however, if I say these things…
Don't ever tell me "you need to be strong"... I am trying.
If ever there's a time I should be permitted to be weak, this is it.
Whatever you do, don't tell me "If I were you I'd…." Until you are in the same situation, you have absolutely no idea what you would do. Your logical brain has absolutely no control.
Never try telling me "life goes on", or "he wouldn't want you to cry", or "God will never give you more than you can handle" or any other platitudes.
Again, don't be surprised if I say some of these things. It's a coping mechanism.
Don't try to solve my "problem". Unless you can bring him back, it can't be "solved".
Don't tell me I when I should or should not start dating. Only I will know when that time comes, and it probably will not look the way you (or I) think it should.
Don't feel the need to fill in silences. I know the silences are hard, but if you can accept them, you are helping me immensely.
Don't tell me that my life needs to go on. I am fully living my life, however, I am grieving not only my spouse, but the person I was when I was with him.
MOST OF ALL...
Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience. Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank you for praying for me.
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The Grief Shift9 years ago
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Total Mass Confusion~9 years ago
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The New PostSecret Book10 years ago
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5 Years Ago Today10 years ago
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Three years post transplant!!12 years ago
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I believe in signs14 years ago
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Relay for Life14 years ago
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You Wanna Be a Rock Star?14 years ago
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Maddie's Blog
12 comments:
AMEN! I have a couple to add to the list. Don't say "You look tired (or like you've lost weight or like you've gained weight or "you look better than the last time I saw you") or any other ridiculous or comparative commentary on how we "look." And whatever you do--never, EVER, offer to call, stop-by, bring dinner, have a "girls' night" or whatever and not follow through. Because I guarantee we have been looking forward to it--no matter how small the gesture--as though it were Christmas morning. We now live for our connections to others and, for now, a lot of our self-worth will be derived from the platonic attention we get from friends and family now that our husbands are no longer there to make us feel pretty, smart, or important.
And finally, don't expect us to reach out to you. Don't for a minute think "I'm sure she'll call when she's up to it" or "she'll let me know when she's ready to go out--I don't want to bother her." At the moment, we are completely handicapped by grief and cannot reach out to others. We leave e-mails unreturned for months; we leave mail unopened for weeks; we leave laundry unfolded for days; and it's all because it is hard work--physically and emotionally--to grieve. So, don't ask permission--just DO it. Show up with dinner. Call and say, "I'll be over in an hour--we're going out for a drink and don't worry, I've got a sitter for Tyler." Say, "my son's on his way over to mow your lawn." Don't put us in a position of having to decide whether it is convenient or helpful. We need to be taken care of and have too much to do and worry about to remember to ask. Don't wait for an invitation. Believe me, it will NEVER be an imposition and will ALWAYS be appreciated.
And Jackie, I'm convinced people say those things you listed to make themselves feel better or because they feel like they "should" say "something,"--but nothing could have prepared me for how ill-equipped people are to "handle" widows. (Not a particularly flattering word, but I haven't come up with a better one . . .) Jeff's been dead for over 9 months and there are people who still "don't want to bother me" or who are afraid to talk about it because they fear I will break down or make them uneasy.
So, get ready, and feel free to drop me a line (kellymdodd@juno.com) or call me (e-mail me for the number) when you want some commisseration.
But, I'm glad you posted this. It needed to be said and I'm happy to see that you are comfortable saying it. I'm proud of you!
Kelly
Jac,
The teacher of life that you were born to be (in all its many forms) is demonstrated so very nicely in this blog about this very difficult but also very special time with Bill. Your willingness to share your soul and all your vulnerabilities is truly amazing and a lesson for us all!
I think Bill will be very proud indeed as he watches how you will take this experience and the time with him and use it to educate the world in ways that he, and especially you, could not have imagined during the remaining years of your life.
Love,
Bob, Dolores and Claude
PS: I hope I did not break any of "Dont's" with my comments. ;-)
Bob
I can't promise I won't ever say something stupid, well, quite frankly, I kave been known to be stupid (like the time I used white chocolate to fill the holes in the walls or the time I spilled my soda because someone asked what time it was) BUT I know I will never miss an opportunity to invite you to be a part of life; I will never pour you a cheap glass of wine; I will never let you win a game just because you are pretty; I will never make bad appetizers for you; I will never laugh if you trip (okay, maybe I will laugh a little bit); I will never tell you what you should or shouldn't do; and, above all, I will never forget that I am your friend for life!
Jackie - well said - again thank you for being so honest and for continuing to share your journey with us.
God Bless
lisa rodriguez rosile ('85)
Jackie,
Thanks for your honesty. Too many times we trip over ourselves because we dont know what to do. We feel that we should be in the trenches with you. Alot of us dont know how to deal with our own grief over losing Billy, much less try and analize yours. Even though Billy was the reason we know you, we love you for who you are, not just because your Billy's wife.
I hope you know that you and Tyler hold a very dear place in our hearts and would love to spend some time with you whenever you want to.
Always,
Kelly & Mike
I know school was your "safe haven", so I never felt I could really ask you how your were doing before Bill passed. I followed your blog religiously from the time I met you. I was always awed by your eloquent way with words and your unique ability to convey feelings through text better than any published author I have read. It's hard to tell someone how much you are hurting for them...knowing that they are hurting for themselves far more that I could ever fathom. I will tell you that I hope we still run into each other in the district, because I truly do want to know how you are Tyler are doing...with all the tears, puffy eyes, and moments of silence that may come with it. I know we did not get a chance to know each other all that well, so I am not one of those who feels I can just stop by for a casual visit. I can tell you that I will continue to pray for you, as you and Tyler are on my mind more that you know. Maddie is Tyler's age....I just can't imagine life in your shoes. I do know that your shoes will be greatly missed at Golden...and my microwave will always be here when you need a warm-up :)
Kim Smith
You never cease to amaze me. You don't need to worry about offending people when you're just being you!!! We love the person you are - including the honesty. I'm sure I've said some of the things you mentioned - because I've never experienced what you have, I don't know what to say. But I'm learning, thanks to you!!! Much love.
BRAVO! Well said. Thank you for your honesty and for being able to put "it" into words. I am grateful that you continue to share your thoughts in this blog.
Continuing to pray,
Julie Swanson Sanders ('85)
Jackie, my sweet little friend, you really are an amazing author and woman, and I feel so blessed that our paths have crossed. Remember what I said before, there are not expectations or time frames for how you should grieve, so make sure you don't put any on yourself either. The best way to not be disappointed in those that you love and care about is to tell them exactly what you need and not wait in misery until they figure it out. You are insightful way beyond your years, and have just taken the guess work out of supporting and loving someone that has lost the love of their life. Thank you, Jackie, for the courage and candor it took to write this post. You better be turning this into a book like we talked about! Love always, Tamie
Oh Lord, no problem here, I should have written something like this on my blog when I lost Brian. I still should. Maybe I still will.
My favorite was probably the...don't ask me how I am unless you really want to know.
And don't tell me Brian would want me to be happy. Sheesh, I know that but my life with him was happy and now I am sad.
And DO NOT tell me what you think God has planned for me, or that there is goodness in store for me or that God doesn't want me to be alone. How the heck do you know?
Amen Kelly! I totally agree. Please don't put it on our shoulders to call you when we can get our act together. If we aren't up for dinner one day, try again if you really mean it. If we cry uncontrollably for one conversation, be a good friend and try us again soon because our hearts desperately want to heal.
I also think people say those things to protect themselves. I am not saying that to be mean. I have several family and friends who don't want to see me in pain, so they will do or say anything to try to protect me, while all along it is mostly protecting them from having to deal with it.
I got away to Boston a few weeks ago. Brian and I are both social studies teachers. I had a great time, but one particular day I felt blanketed in sadness, just missing Brian and knowing how much he would have loved the history. I responded to a text from my sister-in-law (who is married to Brian's brother) and at the end I said I really wished Brian was here. Her response was I hope you have fun anyway. What! I don't know what I wanted her to say, but I know you really miss him would have felt more compassionate.
And face it, the old you is gone, transformed through your love for your husband, your family, through the fact that you were witness to the cruelty of melanoma. Of course we all hope and pray to somehow get to the other side of grief. We can't possibly live in the pain that today brings. But when and how we get through that is a process we don't even know for sure.
I have a really close friend who has been the great friend through all of this. She doesn't always know the right thing to say, but she is honest and even says I don't know what to say. Sometimes she just says I bet you really miss him. And I am thinking...thank you for just knowing. And one day she was just talking about kid things and out of the blue said, I know it sucks. And I was so glad not to have to put on the mask or the happy face and say yes it does. I would say she has been the best just because she hasn't tried to make my pain go away, but has instead tried to stand by me, be patient and figure out what it is I might need. The fact that she attempts has made her a godsend.
I am rambling. I am a melanoma widow also, and if you are reading this comment and you are Jackie's friend, just know that she needs you and don't expect this to be easy on your end either.
Many blessings to you Jackie and Tyler, and all who hold you up...
I love you, Miss Cords. You and your son are in my prayers.
-Toni
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