Monday, February 9, 2015

Feeling What You Feel (Free Writing Day 6)

2/9/15

I had a great conversation over the weekend with a friend who lives far, far away in New York. I was having a rough day, missing my brother even more than usual, and posted something on social media about it. My friend wrote to me, sent me Mariah Carey songs, and encouraged me to feel what I was feeling. He told me to not let anyone tell me what I was feeling was wrong, or that I should be better by now. He reminded me that the pain is the testament to how much I love my brother, and that can’t possibly be a bad thing.

Conversations like that make me want to write a book to teach people how to relate to their friends who are grieving. Grief is a life-long process. I will never be over the death of my brother, nor should I be. There is no magic number for the passage of time that will make me “ok”. My life has been changed, and the new me is just as good as the old one. Yes, I get super sad some days. Yes, I just want to lay in bed and be depressed, but I make myself get up and function. I make myself go to work and give 150% to the kids, and then come home and fall apart. And you know something? There’s nothing wrong with that. Not one thing. My friend reminded me that I should focus more on taking care of me, and not worry what others think, that I should cling to that pain and that love, because it’s a part of who I am.

Never tell someone who’s grieving that their loved one is in a better place, and they should be happy about that. Seriously. First, they may not believe the same way you do, and second…that is cold comfort. Yes, I believe my brother is in Heaven…but I want him here with me. I want my parents to be whole again. So yeah, he’s better off, but we’re not, and the reminder hurts. I know it’s given in a good spirit, but it’s not as helpful as you might think. Please don’t say, “They would want you to…” whatever. Again, that’s good-spirited, but the simple fact of the matter is that our loved ones would understand the days where we collapse under the weight of their loss. I choose to believe that it would be the same if the situation were reversed.

I know that this can come across as rude, or ungrateful, but please believe me when I say that’s not the case. I love each and every one of my friends who just wanted me to be ok. I get it. It’s awkward, and you’re so desperate to say the right thing, that you end up falling back on sayings that have been around forever.


It’s ok. Just try this. In truth, one of the best things you can say to someone who’s grieving is, “I don’t know how you’re feeling. I won’t pretend like I do…but I’m here if you need me.” Which is, by the way, what my sweet New York friend told me in closing over the weekend. Once you’ve said those magic words, just be there. Offer a hug, or a cup of coffee…just something to show your love and support. I promise that will mean so much more than cliché words.

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