

I hear people say this a lot. “I just can’t get it right.” When offering words of solace, all of it feels utterly incorrect. If you say, I understand what you are going through, you realize this can’t be true. No one can truly understand another person’s loss. If you say, I’m here if you need anything, it sounds so vague. And if you say, I am heartbroken for you, that feels more about us than them.
And because of this, sometimes, we go to the extreme and don’t say anything at all out of fear of saying the wrong thing. We may even turn away. Because regardless of what we say or do, it doesn’t feel like enough, because nothing fixes the loss. However, that doesn’t mean our support, and even words, don’t matter.

Reflecting back on the days leading up to Tim’s death and those that followed, I received hundreds of messages, cards, texts, voice mails, and there was not one of them that I judged. I didn’t pull the words apart. I didn’t question the validity of the promise, or the likelihood of the offers. The only thing that mattered was that this person was thinking of me enough to type a few words or to call. It comforted me. And it quickly reminded me of the importance of relationships and connections with other people. Mostly it helped me to see how Tim was loved and how I was loved.
No words would fix the loss. No one could change what had happened. But I knew each person would have made it different if they could.
I have learned a lot through my own losses and my training and experience as a grief educator. Through my work with others, I have witnessed pain, loneliness, love, anger, numbness, fear, guilt, courage and deep, deep sorrow. And, I am not an expert on any of it.
However, I have come to understand that a good way to offer support to someone experiencing grief is to meet THEM where THEY are, and let them be there.
- Just sit with them. This may be literal or figurative.
- Let them feel all the feelings.
- Let them cry or laugh.
- Mirror their feelings.
- Acknowledge the enormity of what happened.

I have made mistakes in the past, not knowing how to help, what to say, and what to do. I am a work in progress. I know the most important thing, above all, is I shouldn’t fear doing or saying the wrong thing. People need people when they are grieving. But I also know, I cannot fix it when someone dies. So, I try to act accordingly.
Yes, Coldplay’s song, Fix You, gets me in the gut every time.
“Lights will guide you home - And ignite your bones - And I will try to fix you”
Friends and family and strangers who come my way, I am not an expert on you. But I will do my best to meet you where YOU are. If you cry, I won’t stop you. If you laugh, I will laugh with you. I will listen as you share stories of your loved one, and I will share in return. I will sit with you. I will not shut down your feelings. I will not push you to be different. I will keep loving the person that you are even though you don't know who that is right now. And, I will NOT try to fix you.
And for my dear friend, "A", who is, right now, feeling so lost, your guy was clearly an amazing person because he chose you. I am sending you light as you walk this unbearable path of love and loss.

*Photo credits, Isabella Kritzer
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I'd be honored to help you on your journey.
Prefer email? Reach me at info@loveyoumoredoula.com.




