There is no doubt that grief makes people uncomfortable. I was chatting with a new acquaintance a few days ago, and she asked me what I do. There was my normal hesitation and inner monologue of, “oh, here we go.” I was, however, pleasantly surprised.
Instead of the usual responses, she replied, “That is so great. People need to be more comfortable talking about death. How can we ever cope with it if people can’t talk about it?” She’s exactly right, and her comment is one of the many reasons I am passionate about grief education and encouraging others to be vulnerable in their grief.
When we are open about the waves of grief we experience, we tell others it is okay to talk. When we grieve openly, we tell the children in our lives that grief is not something to be ashamed of but rather another way of expressing love for someone. When we share our stories, others may feel safe to do the same. We are also much more likely to build strong coping skills and resiliency, become more self-aware about our emotions and grief triggers, and be able to find hope and meaning in each day.
In my professional context, I don’t share my own story in order to create space for the patient or family to be the focus. I listen, mirror, and validate. In my personal life, I am open about my own grief, both on the surface and in depth depending on where my heart is and who is listening. People are comfortable for a certain time, and then they seem to wish you’d forget.
In the first days and weeks after a death, people find various ways to show that they are sorry you are hurting and that they care about you. Some share condolences. Some send flowers. Some call and text. Some let you know when they’re thinking of you. As time ticks, they check in less. It seems that the ones that stop asking how you are first, are also the ones who would prefer not to listen to your grief. That is okay. It is important to know who has the energy and compassion to listen and who doesn’t, whether it’s because it makes them uncomfortable, they don’t feel they’re that close to you, they don’t know what to say, or they think it’s time to move forward. It’s important to note that these people still care, but their comfort level around grief may be minimal.
I want people to know that they are safe to talk about their grief with me, and that talking about death and all that comes with it does not make me uncomfortable. I use writing as a place to process my grief while also validating the reader’s possible grief experiences. I can already see a change though. Only 3 weeks into losing Buckley, and very few people opened a recent article focused on pet loss after I had previously written others on losing my pups. I had the benefit of venting in writing while subscribers either didn’t have the time (I know this one well considering how many I subscribe to and don’t have the time to read) or are ready for a new topic. It’s the same when we discuss our grief face to face. Some people are ready for a new topic.
The myth that grief has a timeline has a negative impact on how free people feel to tell stories of their deceased loved one or express how they feel. Perceived or real, bereaved people wonder, “Do they think I should be over it? Do they think it’s been long enough?” There is no timeline. Don’t hide your grief, whether it’s been a day, a month, a year, or decades. Similarly, there are no “shoulds” in grief. If you catch yourself saying, “I should be happier now,” “I should be over this by now,” or something similar, take a moment to say, “Don’t should yourself.” Those feelings are placed on us just like timelines.
There are people and pets in your life that you will miss the rest of your own life after they die. You’ll grieve who they were. You’ll grieve what they miss in your life. You’ll wonder what your relationship would be like with them as time went on. You will miss them, and you will grieve with no set timeline.
Give yourself grace in your grief, and surround yourself with people who make you feel safe enough to tell silly, sweet, and sad stories about the people and pets you miss regardless of how long it’s been since they died.