[Help] What do you say to a bereaved friend?

[Cotton Socks]

I think it was Baz Luhrmann who once said:

Don't worry about the future
Or worry, but know that worrying
Is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing Bubble gum
The real troubles in your life
Are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind
The kind that blindsides you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday

Turns out he was an hour early. I’ve just found out through a mate, that the daughter of another of another mate of mine, who was the best man at my wedding, has been killed in a house fire. I feel absolutely broken for the poor girl, for him and for her mum. I just don’t know what to say.

He had her very young, and she had disabilities that meant she had never been able to walk, but she was such a lovely young lady. Despite the challenges she faced, she lived a full life.

She’s been on holidays with us, and my wife in particular used to spend lots of time with her as I’d drop her off at my mate’s then missus (and girl’s mother) while we went to the football. She’s crestfallen too.

I just don’t know what to say to him. I’ve not seen much of him in the last three years due to a change in his work patterns, the breakdown of his relationship with the mother of his kids and Covid. In fact, I hadn’t seen him in over 3 years until I randomly bumped into him a couple of weeks ago and we had an impromptu and long overdue pint. It was great to catch-up, but now this.

What the hell do I say to him!? I can’t remember the last time I felt this sad. What the f*** must he be going through!? I’m alright with words but not at times like this.

Life is brutal.

That is one of my favourite songs. Don't say sorry (as it wasn't your fault). Go for the 'normal' route, worse thing is, is to not be yourself around him. Just say you've heard about his absolutely shit news and does he fancy a pint. Don't overthink it, you'll know what to say when you see him.

 

[Harry Wilson's tackle]

Grief, it's an absolute shitter (obviously). So fecking hard to deal with. Personally, I've never coped well with it and it's really affected my life. Have to admire animals, who do grieve, but get on with things quicker. Again personally I get annoyed if people say "sorry" to bad things happening as I'm always why are you apologising? it wasn't your fault! I would prefer to say/hear how saddened someone is. WIth suicide I was upset that people never mentioned the person again, as if they were erased from memory or shared experiences we'd had because it was embarassing or something to mention them because of how they died. I think it's good to talk about the person. Death is awkward but leaving someone to grieve alone is rarely good for them just easier for us. Overcome awkwardness and contact them in some manner even if not by telephone. For the grieving, anything goes, people react in all manner of ways.

When I was about 12, one of my best mate's dad died. I had no idea how to deal with this and my solution was to.....not speak to him . . . .ever again.

I understand this now as a typical response from someone on 'the spectrum' (Aspergers/autism). And yet....very few people are on the other end of 'the spectrum - with extreme empathy, what seems like superb judgement and people skills. Nobody at school, as far as I am aware, said anything to this poor boy about his loss.

Sadly, most of us are a bit shit at knowing quite what to say or do. Or how.

Oddly, I think from what I have seen (the uni students I teach) this has changed a fair bit in the last 50 years.

I need to have a proper think about this.....

 

[Klaas]

Sorry to read about your friend's loss. No one knows what to say in these situations but I found when my younger brother died, that I appreciated any messages or words of sympathy, and that rather than avoid talking about him I almost craved any mention of him from people who knew him. I'm sure whatever you say to your friend he will be grateful.

 

[PILTDOWN MAN]

Appreciate you taking the time to post thank, thank you. Sorry for your loss too, hope you’re doing well.

Thanks I'm doing well.

We all deal with grief in our own way, support is great and often appears from a left side source, maybe not a close person but one who just happens to trigger something.

I lost both my parents over a decade ago in a 5 month period, both to cancer. Just after mum died dad started to act odd and was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. they were both still young relatively speaking. This left my old nan who went on to reach 98. My brother, Driver8, suddenly became the oldest member of the family.

My late wife had already lost her parents so we as a family we didn't have any grandparents for our son we had together. Our other children from previous marriages had their other grandparents even to this day. Considering the oldest is 32 that's not bad.

This brings me to my son, who I really feel sad for, being the youngest he lost my parents when under 10, never had my wife's parents and at the age of 20 lost his mum, my wife.

Many people have sympathy for me with the loss of my wife but my step/children are my focus. Of course there are times that hit such as wedding anniversary and birthdays and even a place or something on TV. It's a moment though and does pass. I'm lucky I suppose I can deal with the emotion.

I was with my wife at home, when she suffered a heart attack. I've been trained on CPR and did this for 40 minutes before the paramedics arrived. I knew that what I was doing was to no avail as she was disabled with a rare lung condition and very unlikely to survive such intervention.

Afterwards the TV was quietly changed if CPR was mentioned or any emergency services program came on. I had to tell everyone I was ok, that if I saw someone needing attention I'd have a go at CPR. In fact I'd go so far as saying anyone who doesn't know how to do it, get your act together and find out. You can't do any harm, the person is dead and your intervention may bring them back. Find out where your local resus pack is. Unfortunately for me one wasn't available for my wife. I will be buying one for my car. If I ever have to use it and it saves a person's life it will be the best money I've ever spent.

Waffle over.

 

[Return of the Rev]

Say anything, chances are they won't remember what you said but will remember you were there.

 

[Shropshire Seagull]

Some good advice above which sadly I'm going to need to use tonight on account of my neighbour dying during last night.
It's been coming a few weeks now so not really a shock but I'm going for a beer with two of his sons later.
Will perform the tradition of buying the deceased his drink and leaving it on the table all evening untouched ...

Conversation may well be patchy and I suspect we'll consume some Kleenex

 

[chickens]

Had a phase in life where I lost three close relatives in quick succession. Went numb for about 18 months and people stopped calling coz I was as much fun as Father Stone from Father Ted.

If I could offer advice, it would be, persevere. Accept that the bereaved may be hard to help, they may push you away in the short term over their own anxieties about being poor company and bringing other people down.

You don’t have to try nightly or even weekly, but at some point the bereaved will feel ready to start living again, and the best thing you can do is still be around and contacting them, because they may well feel they’ve been too much of an idiot to be prepared to contact you.

 

[edna krabappel]

Being very much on the receiving end at the beginning of this year when my wife died suddenly, it's very simple. People would say to me they didn't know what to say. Often there was forced conversation along with pauses. I ended up saying there's no need to say anything as nothing is going to make a difference. Just be there if I need you, that's what friends are for. If honest I spent more time putting people at ease in the first few months than them comforting me.

People do deal with grief in very different ways so perhaps knowing that person well will hopefully give you an idea of the correct approach.

I've not been on here much in the last couple of years, so I'd missed this, but I hear you, and I agree wholeheartedly.

My husband died last year, less than four months after being diagnosed with cancer. I had to learn to accept so many things, and not just the loss itself.
These are the things I've found out about grief, or, at least, my grief since then:

(1) Like you, PM, I often felt like I was worrying more about upsetting other people than my own feelings. People are naturally unsure what to say, or how to react, so when you're the bereaved one, you end up minimising your own feelings, or trivialising them. You don't want to cry or seem sad in case you make THEM feel bad, which if you think about it, is pretty screwed up.

(2) Similarly, the merest mention of it has such massive potential to make people feel awkward, and as a result I feel like I've always got to get it in first when meeting new people. Asking about somebody's family is such a normal conversational opener, yet I always feel like I've got to get in first and mention that my husband died, to avoid a scenario where they unknowingly say something which later makes them feel like they've put their foot in it and leaves them feeling awkward. If you think it's odd that somebody has just blurted something like this out to you, this is probably why.

(3) I frequently felt guilty during the moments when I was able to smile or laugh about stuff, as if other people would judge me for it. It took me a while to learn that it doesn't matter what people think: it's my life and I've got to live it. I owe Chris that.

(4) Other people worry far too much about "saying the wrong thing", which usually involves mentioning death in any context, or (in my case) cancer. Personally, it's never bothered me at all (though I appreciate that's not the case for everyone). Death is, being realistic, all around us, as is cancer, so I've never asked or expected anyone to tiptoe around the subject. Even when people did come out with some quite mind-blowing stuff, such as

-(the day after he died) "Just to let you know, we'll gladly take his clothes at our homeless charity"
-(a week later) "I'm working in a shipping container full of spiders today, so whatever happens, you know I'm having a worse day than you!"

...I tend to just shake my head, store it up mentally to talk to my closest and most brilliant friends about, and laugh at their shocked reaction when I do.

(5) When I returned to work, one of my biggest fears was being defined by what's happened. It's (thankfully) so unusual for somebody to lose a spouse at my age (mid forties) that you can't help but feel like a freak. I didn't know anybody else in my shoes, and I kind of felt like I would become thought of in people's minds as That Woman Whose Husband Died, in the same way as somebody else might subconsciously be labelled as You Know, The One Whose Wife Ran Off With Mike From Accounts or The Bloke Who Got Done For Drink Driving etc. In my mind, I'm still me, just with a bit of emotional scarring. I don't want people to look at me differently, or treat me in some special way. I just want them to treat me normally, but be there for me if I need it. In that sense, the best response from people at work when I went back was simply "It's really good to see you back".

(6) You know what often makes a real difference? Little things, like, if you message somebody at the very early stage of loss, tell them you're not expecting a reply unless they want to. We put a lot of pressure on ourselves to respond when somebody contacts us, when all we really need is to know somebody cares and are there if and when we're ready. A complete stranger came over to talk to me when she saw me sitting outside the hospice in Chris's last few days, looking a bit tearful. She was incredible and insisted I keep her number in case I ever wanted to talk. I finally got round to messaging her a few weeks ago (over a year later) and she was just lovely about it. Her reaction both at the time and more recently just warmed my soul. Similarly, I was grateful when other people messaged to say how sorry they were, but made it clear that there was no pressure on me to respond.

(7) Finally- and this is a massive thing- if you're dealing with somebody who's lost a loved one, don't just be there for them at the start. Check in with them as time passes. Everyone rallies round at the start, whether out of genuine concern, obligation, morbid curiosity or whatever, but most fade away pretty quickly (understandably, as their lives move on far more easily), which can really make the bereaved person feel the loss and loneliness more sharply than ever. The first year's anniversaries and dates in particular can bite hard. If you know and care enough to get in touch with that person- even with just a message- when it's their birthday, or their loved one's birthday, or their wedding anniversary, or just any other time when the rest of the world is celebrating (for example Christmas) then it really shows you care. Even something like a bank holiday weekend (or just a weekend!), when everyone else is making plans to go out with their families and get pissed, can make somebody bereaved feel like the loneliest person in the world. Having somebody else care enough to check in and perhaps suggest doing something can make the world of difference.

I hope you're hanging on in there, @PILTDOWN MAN. Here if you want to PM me. Same goes for anybody else. Sorry it was a bit of a long post but I guess this made me want to get it all out a bit and hopefully help others understand a bit more.

 

[Poojah]

Thanks again to everyone for their words of advice, particularly those who have shared deeply personal stories. Edna, for the record, no apologies necessary - I read every word.

I spoke to my mate today. I don’t think I did a great job; brain flooded with cliches, but I tried. He’s in understandable emotional agony, and as someone who always had my back, and I his, the thing that hurt the most was that there was nothing I could do for him. I’m a problem solver, I’ve mad a career out of it. But I couldn’t solve his problem.

I’m going to give him some time and space. The local media made it their headline story today, name, photos, everything. All against the advice of the police - he hadn’t got round to telling everyone. Naturally, he’s now inundated, which is probably not what he needs.

Of all the advice shared, the importance of continuing to be there was time passes is perhaps the most significant takeaway for me. I’m going to do that. Thanks again kind people of NSC - there has yet to be a subject matter on which you haven’t been able to have. I’m just so sad I had to ask this particular question.

 

[Gabbafella]

I lost my mum when I was 19, my best friend at 30 and another good friend this year, and to be honest just being around people can often help.
The only thing you can do is offer to be there for him, listen to him and give him support in any way you can.
His life will feel numb at the moment, his head will no doubt be all over the place and he'll be hurting, but having good people around will help.
There's no right or wrong way to grieve and everyone deals with death in very different ways but sometimes just chatting shit with your friends can add a little normality into a difficult situation.
I'm sure it has affected you too so I hope you're doing ok as well.

 

[edna krabappel]

Oh by the way- I forgot this earlier- unless you really DO know how somebody feels, then...just don't say "I know how you feel".

Different types of losses affect people in very different ways. Losing a child or a spouse impacts incredibly differently to losing a parent, principally because with parents we all subconsciously accept that the odds are that we will all suffer that loss eventually unless we're unlucky enough to go first. With kids or partners, you plan your lives around them and with them. They're present every day in and the loss is inescapable. You grieve for your own future and lost hopes as well as for the person themselves. Losing a parent must be awful, I don't doubt that, but it's simply different.

And don't get me started on the people who equate losing a partner to losing a pet, or getting divorced (yes, your husband might have been a cheating shit, but if you really needed to get hold of him to fix a leaking pipe in an emergency or pick the kids up from school because you're got stuck at work, you could still just pick up the phone).

 

[PILTDOWN MAN]

Thanks and

I've not been on here much in the last couple of years, so I'd missed this, but I hear you, and I agree wholeheartedly.

My husband died last year, less than four months after being diagnosed with cancer. I had to learn to accept so many things, and not just the loss itself.
These are the things I've found out about grief, or, at least, my grief since then:

(1) Like you, PM, I often felt like I was worrying more about upsetting other people than my own feelings. People are naturally unsure what to say, or how to react, so when you're the bereaved one, you end up minimising your own feelings, or trivialising them. You don't want to cry or seem sad in case you make THEM feel bad, which if you think about it, is pretty screwed up.

(2) Similarly, the merest mention of it has such massive potential to make people feel awkward, and as a result I feel like I've always got to get it in first when meeting new people. Asking about somebody's family is such a normal conversational opener, yet I always feel like I've got to get in first and mention that my husband died, to avoid a scenario where they unknowingly say something which later makes them feel like they've put their foot in it and leaves them feeling awkward. If you think it's odd that somebody has just blurted something like this out to you, this is probably why.

(3) I frequently felt guilty during the moments when I was able to smile or laugh about stuff, as if other people would judge me for it. It took me a while to learn that it doesn't matter what people think: it's my life and I've got to live it. I owe Chris that.

(4) Other people worry far too much about "saying the wrong thing", which usually involves mentioning death in any context, or (in my case) cancer. Personally, it's never bothered me at all (though I appreciate that's not the case for everyone). Death is, being realistic, all around us, as is cancer, so I've never asked or expected anyone to tiptoe around the subject. Even when people did come out with some quite mind-blowing stuff, such as

-(the day after he died) "Just to let you know, we'll gladly take his clothes at our homeless charity"
-(a week later) "I'm working in a shipping container full of spiders today, so whatever happens, you know I'm having a worse day than you!"

...I tend to just shake my head, store it up mentally to talk to my closest and most brilliant friends about, and laugh at their shocked reaction when I do.

(5) When I returned to work, one of my biggest fears was being defined by what's happened. It's (thankfully) so unusual for somebody to lose a spouse at my age (mid forties) that you can't help but feel like a freak. I didn't know anybody else in my shoes, and I kind of felt like I would become thought of in people's minds as That Woman Whose Husband Died, in the same way as somebody else might subconsciously be labelled as You Know, The One Whose Wife Ran Off With Mike From Accounts or The Bloke Who Got Done For Drink Driving etc. In my mind, I'm still me, just with a bit of emotional scarring. I don't want people to look at me differently, or treat me in some special way. I just want them to treat me normally, but be there for me if I need it. In that sense, the best response from people at work when I went back was simply "It's really good to see you back".

(6) You know what often makes a real difference? Little things, like, if you message somebody at the very early stage of loss, tell them you're not expecting a reply unless they want to. We put a lot of pressure on ourselves to respond when somebody contacts us, when all we really need is to know somebody cares and are there if and when we're ready. A complete stranger came over to talk to me when she saw me sitting outside the hospice in Chris's last few days, looking a bit tearful. She was incredible and insisted I keep her number in case I ever wanted to talk. I finally got round to messaging her a few weeks ago (over a year later) and she was just lovely about it. Her reaction both at the time and more recently just warmed my soul. Similarly, I was grateful when other people messaged to say how sorry they were, but made it clear that there was no pressure on me to respond.

(7) Finally- and this is a massive thing- if you're dealing with somebody who's lost a loved one, don't just be there for them at the start. Check in with them as time passes. Everyone rallies round at the start, whether out of genuine concern, obligation, morbid curiosity or whatever, but most fade away pretty quickly (understandably, as their lives move on far more easily), which can really make the bereaved person feel the loss and loneliness more sharply than ever. The first year's anniversaries and dates in particular can bite hard. If you know and care enough to get in touch with that person- even with just a message- when it's their birthday, or their loved one's birthday, or their wedding anniversary, or just any other time when the rest of the world is celebrating (for example Christmas) then it really shows you care. Even something like a bank holiday weekend (or just a weekend!), when everyone else is making plans to go out with their families and get pissed, can make somebody bereaved feel like the loneliest person in the world. Having somebody else care enough to check in and perhaps suggest doing something can make the world of difference.

I hope you're hanging on in there, @PILTDOWN MAN. Here if you want to PM me. Same goes for anybody else. Sorry it was a bit of a long post but I guess this made me want to get it all out a bit and hopefully help others understand a bit more.

great post, expanded on mine and written so much better .