In trying to help others dealing with a loss, we gather around them, bringing food and hope and love, but sometimes some of things we say fall short of the mark in imparting the comfort we intend.

Imagine for a moment that a friend of yours had just bought the car of his dreams, and you just heard it had been totaled in an accident.  Would you console him with any of the following?

“You can always buy another car.”

“Remember, you still have your truck.”

“Thank goodness you didn’t have it long enough to get attached to it.”

“Now it will never get old and fall apart or rust or get in any other accidents.”

“It just wasn’t meant to be that you had that car.”

Sounds pretty insensitive when you say it about a car, doesn’t it?  Yet when people experience the loss of a family member, we find ourselves at a loss for words, and often we parrot things we have heard before, imagining they have some comfort value.  Based on my own experience and the experience of others, most of them don’t.

Recently a friend of mine had a loss, and in speaking to her, I was reminded of all the things that people say that are well intended but not helpful.  To add to the problem, when the same “comforting” things are repeated over and over again, they lose meaning quickly.

First, for those who are grieving, I would like to repeat the counsel my mother gave me when my husband died.  I had turned to her at the viewing and told her that the next person who said “You’re young.  You’ll marry again.” was going to get a black eye.  She told me that no matter what anyone said, I should give them credit for having good intentions.  I tried to follow that advice.  I know that no one says  “I wonder if there is something overused and insensitive that I can say to make Sister Jones feel worse at this difficult time.”

One of the reasons we are here is to gain experience, so from my vast store of experience, on behalf of those with losses, I would like to offer some helpful tips for comforting those that mourn.

Don’t Say Anything That Starts with “Aren’t You Glad?”

We rejoice in the teachings of the gospel.  We celebrate a life well lived.  But death represents a separation.  Sometimes we try too hard to put a happy spin on it and the result feels like a disregard for the loss.  Death isn’t happy.  It is sad.  People will eventually get the perspective they need, but don’t try to fast-forward them past their grief. 

“He is in a better place.”

I don’t want him in that better place.  I want him here with me, taking care of our family, going to parent-teacher conferences with me, fixing our car, mowing the lawn, climbing into bed with me at the end of the day.

“Aren’t you glad she didn’t suffer?”

Yes, I’m glad she didn’t suffer, but I’m still not glad she died.

“Aren’t you grateful his suffering is over?”

Yes, but I would be more grateful if it hadn’t started in the first place.

If you are going to say something like this, preface it with something that acknowledges the sadness of the event.

“You must miss Bob terribly, but I’m sure you are grateful his suffering is over.”

The healing will come.  The comforter will attend.  Be patient with those who grieve and allow them to work through things at their own speed. 

Don’t Downplay the Loss

Be wary of saying anything that downplays the loss.  Each person is an individual and is loved by their family members and cannot be replaced.

“Remember, you have four other children.”

Oh, well then I guess I won’t notice if one is missing. 

“You can have other children.”

But I’ll never have this child.  My arms are still empty and aching now.  Don’t act as if this child and this loss don’t count.  And you don’t know if I’ll manage to have other children or how many miscarriages and losses I may have already had.

Making a statement like those above in the face of a loss, while meant to convey hope for the future, comes off as a dismissal of the present pain.  While future happiness may be available, it makes it sound as though replacing the deceased person is as simple as buying new carpet for the living room.  A loss of an unborn child is a loss of hopes and dreams and it a very real loss.  Don’t direct all your sympathy to the mother.  Father’s losses count as well, and they are more inclined to feel they have to be stoic and not show their feelings.  Show them you acknowledge their loss, too.

“You’re young.  You’ll marry again.”

By the time I had heard that for the 487th time, I was ready with some interesting comebacks, none of which I used.  (However, there were a couple of interesting things I said to people to liven things up.  Interested parties can e-mail me privately after buying several of my books.  susancorpany@aol.com)

“You’re right.  In fact, let’s get this line moving past the casket, because I see a cute guy on down the line.”

“I heard you’ve been under the weather lately.  I hope you’re feeling better, but just in case, your husband, does he help with the dishes?”

“I was hoping not to announce the engagement until after the funeral.”

Do You Really Know?

“I know how you feel.”

Be careful with this one.  Because you flushed a goldfish down the toilet when you were ten, doesn’t mean you understand.  Because your elderly grandmother recently died doesn’t mean you understand the loss of a child.  Even if you have had a similar loss, you may not know exactly how that person feels at that moment.  You may not know that a wife is secretly angry at her deceased husband for not managing his diabetes, watching his diet and thereby prolonging his life.  You may not know that a father who has lost a child feels guilty because the last words he said to his son were angry ones.

Be close by.  Be available.  Instead of telling someone you know how they feel, let them tell you how they feel.  Be someone they can trust enough to share their feelings without fear of judgment.  They may be angry at God or at the person who died or at themselves.  Let them express what they need to express.

Be Sparing with Religious Statements

Even expressions of faith and hope for the hereafter can ring hollow to a grieving person.  No matter how much you believe in the great beyond, death is a difficult separation.  There can be no phone calls, no letters or e-mails.  Your loved one will not physically materialize for baptisms and graduations and weddings.  It is possible to fully believe in and rejoice in the plan of salvation yet still be devastated by the loss of a family member and the looming period of separation.

“She was under the age of eight.  You know she went straight to the highest kingdom.”

But I wanted to dance at her wedding reception. 

“God has something He wants you to learn from this.”

Really?  Maybe next week He’ll have something for you to learn. 

God expects us to learn from all our trials and experiences.  Perspective comes to people when they are further down the road.  Don’t try to give it to them

“It was his time.”

I forgot to check the bottom of his foot for the expiration date.

This sounds so glib.  There are many factors that come into play when a person dies.  While God has His timetable, there are many things that happen as a result of the agency he has given each of us.  How we take care of our health is a factor.  Whether or not we walk in front of a bus is a factor.  

There is a mouthpiece for God on the earth today.  It isn’t you.  Unless you have specific inside information, don’t explain God’s reasons for someone’s death.

I remember someone telling me that “this is to help prepare you for greater trials to come.”  Was that really meant to be comforting?

Sometimes it is implied that if our faith is strong enough, we will be able to bypass the grieving process.  Remember, even Jesus wept at the loss of his friend.

 Children Are Listening

“God must have needed her more than you did.”

Imagine if a teen-ager just pulling away from Mom hears that and it adds guilt on top of grief. 

This kind of statement can make God the bad guy in the eyes of children.  It is hard to turn to God for comfort if we believe He is the author of our pain.  Always be mindful that children may be watching and listening.

I lost a tiny niece to SIDS.  I told my young son the baby just stopped breathing.  At the funeral home, Grandpa hyperventilated a bit when he saw the baby.  I calmly explained to the worried grandchildren that Grandpa was fine, that he was just having a little trouble breathing.  I wasn’t until a few days later that I passed my son’s room and heard him breathing in and out forcefully.  I asked him what he was doing.  “Breathing.”  Then he asked me in a small voice.  “Mom, you said they call what the baby died from ‘crib death.’  Is there such a thing as ‘bunkbed death?’”

A friend whose husband died told me how one of her children asked, after the funeral.  “Mom, everyone keeps saying how happy Dad is.  Why is Dad happy to be away from us?”

Try it on for size

Before you say anything, try and put yourself in the other person’s shoes and ask if it would truly be comforting.  Measure twice, saw once.

Removing the Rocks in the Road

In my novel Unfinished Business, loosely based on my own loss, my main character, faced with one more straw on the camel’s back, unloads on the entire ward at the Christmas party.  I never did this, but I had fun letting Beverly do it.  Among other things, she says:

“If someone is driving down the street and there has been an avalanche of rocks in front of their car, you don’t drive by and tell them that there are clear roads up ahead!  You get out of the car and help them move some of the rocks!”

Since I have given a long list of things not to say, here are a few suggestions for things that are helpful.

Share a Memory

Share a memory of the person who died.  Do you have a funny story about them?  Did they do an act of service for your family or do you have a special memory of them?  Put it in writing and share it with the family.

Sometimes someone will start a scrapbook or have a journal available at the viewing to enable and encourage people to share their memories.  It doesn’t need to be elaborate or even well written.  One of my favorites was the letter from the little girl across the street who often babysat our son.  “When Paul would come over to ask if I could babysit, he would knock on the door and ask, ‘Can Roxanne play?’”

Express sorrow.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Carol’s beautiful voice will be missed in our ward choir.”

“I’m going to miss carpooling with him to the office.  He always brightened my day.”

Expressing our own sorrow is also a way of acknowledging theirs.  Instead of explaining it away, it gives the family permission to grieve and also reminds them of ways their loved one will be missed by others, acknowledging his or her significant and unique contribution to the world. 

Don’t be afraid of sharing or even starting tears.  Crying is healthy at a time of loss.  Don’t be so quick to squelch the very real emotions that surface.  Let it be.  “Don’t cry” may be one of the most unhelpful things we say to each other at times when crying is the most healthy response to the event.

Be There for the Long Haul

Some losses are more devastating than others.  The loss of a spouse is particularly difficult because it changes the outlook of your future.  Immediately after a loss you are surrounded by people.  Afterwards, when they have all gone back to their routines, you can feel very lonely.  I know I was very grateful for the friends whose ministrations continued over the weeks, months and years to come. 

Service is Love Made Visible

When we ask “Is there anything I can do?” people usually tell us they are fine.  If we come up with a more concrete question, we are more likely to give true service rather than merely lip service.

“I have two guest rooms downstairs.  If you have any family coming in from out of town, they’ve got a place to stay.”

“I wonder if your daughter has the same science fair assignment as our son.  We are working on that next weekend, and we were wondering if we could help her with her project.”

“My kids would like to come help you weed your vegetable garden.  Let me know what day would work best for you.”

I remember getting a sympathy card with a sheet of postage stamps inside.  It was from another widow.  I made a mental note to remember that as a thoughtful think to do.  It was a small thing, but it saved me a trip to the post office and helped me in getting bills and thank-you notes into the mail.

I remember a friend who came to my house for a visit and left with two baskets of laundry which she returned later in the day, washed and folded.  It was a small thing but it was oh so big that day.  Service is not only about performing a task but also serves as a reminder that someone is thinking about you, that you are loved. 

When that tsunami of sorrow has washed over someone’s life, be there for them in their “hour of need.”  You might even go the extra mile.  Hang around for an hour-and-a-half.