tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post4949212139954649449..comments2023-11-03T09:31:26.219+00:00Comments on Frances Garrood: What (not) to say when someone diesFrances Garroodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-15591026988217761152013-11-13T17:22:32.722+00:002013-11-13T17:22:32.722+00:00...together with "good innings", Z!...together with "good innings", Z!Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-24602226661955763012013-11-12T22:12:51.561+00:002013-11-12T22:12:51.561+00:00I remember when I was about 14 and a former teache...I remember when I was about 14 and a former teacher's husband had died, and I saw her in the street and had an awful impulse to pretend I hadn't seen her. I didn't, I went and said how sorry I was - thank goodness, I wasn't the most sensitive or brave child.<br />The assumption that the death of a very old parent doesn't matter much is an unfortunate one. A friend in his 70s cried when his 102-year-old mother died, to his surprise. And the words 'merciful release' should be banned from the language.Zhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00822383355869390919noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-80477244009719330342013-11-10T14:31:30.612+00:002013-11-10T14:31:30.612+00:00I agree, Fanny. The crossing the street thing is a...I agree, Fanny. The crossing the street thing is awful. As tho you've done something wrong.Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-48633338148000667872013-11-08T12:15:42.513+00:002013-11-08T12:15:42.513+00:00It is best to keep sympathies simple, unless the p...It is best to keep sympathies simple, unless the person is willing himself/herself to talk. My cousin's husband passed away in June, and only last week she felt up to having a long conversation.<br />Personally, I found it very hurtful when people I knew crossed the street rather than speak to me after having a close death in the family. Some took quite a while to speak again, although "Sorry for your loss" would have been enough at the time.Frankie Millerhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10787954599014677407noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-47378925072316081102013-11-08T09:43:25.104+00:002013-11-08T09:43:25.104+00:00What a lovely idea, Jean.What a lovely idea, Jean.Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-65538037569125720742013-11-08T06:21:20.594+00:002013-11-08T06:21:20.594+00:00Some of my husband's friends did that after hi...Some of my husband's friends did that after his death, they sent me pictures from when they were all in their teens, and I so appreciated that.Librarianhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05704656564078750607noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-58643263873930691932013-11-07T23:02:48.732+00:002013-11-07T23:02:48.732+00:00I loved it when someone just said " so sorry ...I loved it when someone just said " so sorry to hear about your mum". It can be as simple as that, can't it. If I can I like to look out and send my best photos of the friend who has died. JeanJayviewhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06358384803437366118noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-28505944774383413792013-11-07T22:30:58.277+00:002013-11-07T22:30:58.277+00:00GB, I'm SO sorry about your son. And I think y...GB, I'm SO sorry about your son. And I think you're right. The young are more fresh and honest than many of the rest of us.Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-17790423044722057352013-11-07T22:29:20.369+00:002013-11-07T22:29:20.369+00:00Thank you for your thoughtful reply, Meike, and pl...Thank you for your thoughtful reply, Meike, and please don't apologise. I thought of you as I was writing this post. Strange, isn't it, how being interested in anyone or anything else seems to get put on hold in the aftermath of bereavement. I found - as I'm sure you did - that at the time, all my efforts had to go into simple survival. Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-11364471113324504142013-11-07T22:25:57.583+00:002013-11-07T22:25:57.583+00:00ER, what you do sounds perfect. And there aren'...ER, what you do sounds perfect. And there aren't really any words. Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-79042950894504197472013-11-07T22:25:12.994+00:002013-11-07T22:25:12.994+00:00Joanna, I think people say these "positive&qu...Joanna, I think people say these "positive" things because they can't bear to face the pain the family are facing, so they have to look for something good. At first, there just isn't anything. Your poor mum. I feel for her. Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-25676943906111061572013-11-07T22:22:23.078+00:002013-11-07T22:22:23.078+00:00Yvonne, I think the best descripton I've heard...Yvonne, I think the best descripton I've heard is that, over time, it turns from a wound into a scar. Still there, but perhaps not so raw.Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-39734610980212831282013-11-07T22:20:53.496+00:002013-11-07T22:20:53.496+00:00Adrian, you are so right, and I can't believe ...Adrian, you are so right, and I can't believe I forgot to mention hugs. Hugs are the best of all!Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-46881291188418208572013-11-07T22:20:06.741+00:002013-11-07T22:20:06.741+00:00That's such a good point, Wendy. Thank you.That's such a good point, Wendy. Thank you. Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-64403111760386110232013-11-07T22:19:20.514+00:002013-11-07T22:19:20.514+00:00Lovely, Teresa. Thank you for that. Lovely, Teresa. Thank you for that. Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-20512230561738201472013-11-07T22:18:35.118+00:002013-11-07T22:18:35.118+00:00I agree, Patsy. Contact is so important.I agree, Patsy. Contact is so important.Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-684155098528603332013-11-07T22:15:53.309+00:002013-11-07T22:15:53.309+00:00Claire, one of my best friends is Jewish, and she ...Claire, one of my best friends is Jewish, and she and her husband came round that day with enough food to last us for weeks. I shall never forget that kindness.Frances Garroodhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10614916006798375706noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-85741825682316282242013-11-07T19:01:56.006+00:002013-11-07T19:01:56.006+00:00When our elder son died he was in his early 30s an...When our elder son died he was in his early 30s and what struck me most was the refreshingly honest and direct approach most of his peers had. I suspect all grieved for his death but all unfailingly celebrated his life. GBhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10289400344300258872noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-14464878978845520172013-11-07T16:52:33.078+00:002013-11-07T16:52:33.078+00:00Frances, I've been on about this subject a few...Frances, I've been on about this subject a few times on my blog, too, but have never quite put it together in such useful manner as you did.<br /><br />The fourth anniversary of my husband's sudden death was this past Tuesday, and while it did feel like any other day to me this time, one can never quite predict one's own reaction. Like in your life, there are so many places, moments, occasions, things in my life that remind me of Steve. Sometimes the sadness triggered by them takes me completely by surprise, something you are probably familiar with, too, while other things don't affect me as much as I expected them to.<br /><br />What I like particularly about your advice here is that people who want to help a grieving friend should stay in touch for longer than just the first few days and weeks. That is usually when the bereaved has so much to do, to organize and to decide that grief can hardly be dealt with.<br /><br />How much more important is a kind letter, phonecall or visit months later, or even years. Because one thing is for sure: the bereaved won't have "forgotten" their grief, even though for everyone else things look as if they have gone back to perfectly normal.<br /><br />During the first week after Steve's death I received around 200 emails, and piles of cards and letters. I appreciated each and everyone of them, even though some were obviously written with the author not quite knowing what to write. It wasn't the words on the paper (or the computer screen) that mattered to me. It was the fact that these people were in touch with me, and I was immensely grateful for the network of friends and family (and still am).<br /><br />You are also right about not writing (or talking) about one's own holiday plans, or heart attacks, or anything of the kind. One neighour that came over for a visit two days or so after Steve's death did nothing but reminisce about her own experience when her mother had died some years before. She meant well, of course, but I was so NOT interested in her dealings with the hospital and her father etc.<br /><br />Oops, that comment is already way too long. But you know that this is a subject close to my heart, and therefore I will not apologize for babbling on.Librarianhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05704656564078750607noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-51949471208667507122013-11-07T16:34:18.148+00:002013-11-07T16:34:18.148+00:00How hard it must have been to lose your spouse and...How hard it must have been to lose your spouse and to have to carry on with a young family. I am that person who calls and can barely get a word out past the tears of empathy. I always send a card as well, with a good memory of the person who has died.English Riderhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01712384532126551307noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-36371833849991095002013-11-07T14:17:40.267+00:002013-11-07T14:17:40.267+00:00This is such a helpful and true post, Frances.
M...This is such a helpful and true post, Frances. <br /><br />My Mum was also told by a colleague, "I expect you're over it now," within a year of my father's death, aged sixty-three. "Absolutely not," she said. "I shall never get over it." And when told she must be "getting used to living alone," she replied that of course she would never would.<br /><br />I'm sure she saw these comments as extremely well-intentioned and realised that people simply wanted to say something that sounded positive. Unfortunately their words came across as an attempt to diminish her suffering.<br /><br />I know my mother preferred honesty. She had suffered the worst blow of her life and didn't want her sorrow brushed aside in order to make other people feel more comfortable.<br /><br />Letters full of lovely memories of the deceased and lots of practical help are definitely the best options. xJoannahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10346863303904973315noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-77360361098857590522013-11-07T14:03:51.272+00:002013-11-07T14:03:51.272+00:00This is a very thoughtful post on a difficult subj...This is a very thoughtful post on a difficult subject. You're right....until you've lost someone that close, you have no idea what it's like or what to say. I do think a simple note, hand written, can mean the world. <br /><br />Thank you for the suggestion of a meal, an errand, picking up the mail, etc. not just an empy "anything I can do?" <br /><br />We never get over it, and it's never easy.Yvonne Osbornehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18212188414972694795noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-36377686020065460842013-11-07T13:34:53.014+00:002013-11-07T13:34:53.014+00:00I just walk up and give them a hug. It's happe...I just walk up and give them a hug. It's happened too many times to me. (Not death, I'm still alive). People used to avoid me. Like a close friend or relative dying meant I carried the devil on my shoulder. Load of rubbish everyone dies. Hard as it is we have to get used to it and our lives go on.ADRIANhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07113961163396562781noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-39131758288450881262013-11-07T13:13:46.973+00:002013-11-07T13:13:46.973+00:00My father died when I was in my early twenties and...My father died when I was in my early twenties and I don't remember anything being said to me, my brother and my sister - only to my mum, It's important to remember that other family embers are bereaved and grieving as well,Wendy's Writinghttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06960941625432714363noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3132582821010486689.post-12286410782801631892013-11-07T12:11:16.650+00:002013-11-07T12:11:16.650+00:00Thank you for posting this, Frances. I think somet...Thank you for posting this, Frances. I think sometimes people just say something because they feel they ought to and the wrong thing comes out. Much better I think to write a few lines as you say. I think the most touching thing when my mum died was my friend sending me flowers with a note that simply said "Your mum is at peace now." Ten years ago and I've never forgotten that xTeresa Ashbyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15350697922935549188noreply@blogger.com