When people say I don’t like funerals, I believe they mean many things. Possibly, they may mean, “It's difficult to witness death” or the feelings that come with it, the societal norms one needs to fulfil, the myriad of surface level verbal exchanges with friends, relative, strangers and so on.
As I experience the impending loss of a loved one, I come closer to an understanding of how little we know when communicating with someone who is grieving.
My brother was diagnosed with Grade 4 brain cancer about 4 years ago and since then he has been beating the odds (in average life expectancy) and by living these years doing unimaginably beautiful things with courage that is beyond admirable.
As his sister, I’ve been at the receiving end of constant irrelevant questions, with the top 2 most banal ones:
1. How is your brother?
2. How are you?
Both these questions come from an intention of trying to show concern to a grieving person.
1. Does it serve the person who is grieving in any way? No. It worsens the blow.
2. Does it serve you because you think you’re showing concern to the grieving person? Possibly.
3. Do you feel better if the grieving person responds with some information; update or sharing because you think you did well by showing concern?
Grief is complicated; it is vast, deep, engulfing and overwhelming.
I have been grieving since the day my brother was diagnosed four years ago, I grieve now and I will grieve until I turn to dust.
Grief is different for everyone; how they process it, what works for them, how long they grieve, what the loss means to them and how they make sense of themselves in relation to the world around them.
Some more not -so helpful questions, statements and suggestions that are counter-productive:
1. Stay strong. (Not sure why I have to stay strong and withhold my feelings when my world is falling apart)
2. Stay positive. (for who? the world outside, for you, for ourselves? And why?)
3. We are praying for you. Miracles work. (Read post below : https://lemonadegirl.blogspot.com/2018/12/the-tomato-miracle.html?m=1 )
4. Let me know if I can be of any help.
To the last statement ^ unless you’re extremely close to a grieving person, you wouldn’t have to make that statement and would already know what to do. You can “be there” physically: hold them, stay with them, and let them cry without judgement. Make them tea, help with cleaning or tidying up the place, with the miscellaneous things that they can’t afford to worry about. Make sure they’re eating and drinking and be prepared to stay by their side when they cry anytime, anywhere.
If you’re not very close to the person grieving, it is better that you say nothing and continue as you were .There’s no expectation that you should show concern or say/do something to make us feel better.
So, back to the questions you ask, here are the immediate answers you elicit (and are probably not ready to handle):
1. How is your brother? Answer: Fighting for life against cancer with each passing day.
2. How are you? Answer: Grieving.
Ask yourself:
1. Are you equipped to hold emotional and/or physical space for the person who is feeling immeasurable pain? (Especially on chat?)
2. Have you considered reading up about grief to be of actual help to a grieving person?
3. What do you hope to achieve out of the interaction?
I believe as a human being, I have a palette of emotions, each prominent depending on the phases of life.
Grief is prominent now.
And I belive I have no choice but to honour and acknowledge all the colours that demand to be seen on the canvas of my life.
This blog is dedicated to my brother who came up with its title 8 years ago and told me recently, “I like your blog too”, after I was telling him about a friend’s posts I really like.
I love you,Gid.
No comments:
Post a Comment