How do I help someone who is grieving?

Grief comes from the deepest places within us.  I heard the author Richard Rohr speaking about this recently, and he said that, “When a person cries, it comes unbidden out of the unconscious.  It’s not an object of the will or the intellect.”  It’s as if when we cry we are allowing ourselves to connect to the deepest places within us.  When we look that deeply within, grief and love are invariably intertwined.  We grieve because we have loved.  And love is that which transcends all, even time and space.

Grief is universal.  If we’ve lived long enough, we don’t have to be taught that suffering, and therefore grief, finds us all in one way or another.  Jesus taught us—and showed us—this.  It’s why we observe Lent.  It’s why Good Friday comes before Resurrection Sunday.  It’s why the only book of the Bible named after an emotion is Lamentations.  Suffering is baked into the fabric of reality.

And grief doesn’t always have to be because of death.  It can be over an argument with a family member.  A lost job.  An unexpected or prolonged setback.  Our lives and our world are full of little sufferings all the time.

Another quote from Richard Rohr: “Felt reality is invariably wept reality. And wept reality is soon compassion and kindness.  Decisive and harsh judgments slip away in the tracks of tears, and when we cry we are revealing our truest, most loving self.” So when you are present to someone who is grieving, you are coming alongside them when they are their deepest, truest, most vulnerable, most loving selves.  It’s an honor to be invited to be with someone in that state.

So what do I do?  First, let’s address what not to do.  

Try to avoid speaking in platitudes.  Surely you have heard someone say, “Everything happens for a reason,” or “God won’t give you more than you can handle.” Maybe you have even been the one to say them.  We say these things in a well-meaning spirit, but it comes across as minimizing the grief.  And, if we examine why we say these things, we may find that it comes from a place of uncomfortability with grief ourselves.  We yearn to find some sense of control over something that isn’t meant to be controlled or fixed, but felt.  It’s not a bad thing to feel grief.  Remember, it’s intertwined with love.

So resist the urge to control grief, or the grieving person.  Be mindful not to soften or minimize the grief, or make attempts to talk someone out of it.  (“Think of how happy they must be right now!  They wouldn’t want you to cry.”) Allow it to be what it is.

So here’s the best thing you can do: Be present.  

Go for a (pre-approved) visit and just meet them where they are.  If they want to talk about their grief, listen faithfully.  If they want to watch movies, watch with them.  If they just want to be quiet, sit in quiet solidarity with them.  Follow their lead.  Don’t stay too long unless they ask. You don’t want them to feel like they have to play host to you.  Make it known that you are there just to be with them and that you don’t expect anything from them.  Be sure to feed them, and maybe wash some dishes or take out some trash before you leave.

It is important to respect where they are in their grief.  Invite them into expression, but honor their boundaries.  If they are not ready to talk, that is OK.  It’s their story and their timeframe.  What’s important is your presence.

Be sure to check on them in the coming weeks and months, and don’t worry about making them sad.  Their pain is already there, whether you ask about it or not.  Asking about their grief communicates that you haven’t forgotten, and that you are there for them.  A gentle invitation to express their grief might be just the opportunity they’ve needed.  If they aren’t ready to discuss it they will let you know.

One last thing about grief: It is conical, not linear.  The process of healing is not like climbing stair steps, but more circular.  One day the grieving person may be feeling strong and ready to reengage the world, and the next day may be full of sadness and pain.  This is just the nature of things and is to be expected.  Just as seasons come and go, so does the intensity of grief.  At first the circles are quite small, so the pain comes around more acutely and more often.  As time goes by, however, the circles seem to widen their orbits, and the grief becomes more manageable and less frequent.  Grief never fully disappears, but living alongside it becomes easier.  And it will be all the more manageable because you have chosen to be there with them.

—From Matt Thames, LPC