Say Their Names

I was in a group discussion the other day about working with those who have experienced a very specific loss. We were asked if we currently worked with that specific loss and almost everyone said "No, because I wouldn't know what to say."

The demonstration showed us how wrong this was.

The type of loss doesn't matter for our purposes, but imagine the worst case and you're probably right. (Still, it's best to leave it open to your own version of what the worst would be.) The facilitator asked for volunteers who had suffered such a loss and three people offered to talk. He spent about five minutes with each, and afterwards, he asked us all how we thought it went.

"That was amazing," one said. "You were so good," said another. He reviewed our comments and then asked "Did you notice what I said? Very little. I just asked a few questions."

I have to be honest, I was really surprised once I understood that. Each had experienced what feels like the unimaginable but the reality is, though, tough loss happens every day. And the harder reality is the way we treat the survivors: We don't want to say anything to upset them so... we don't say anything at all.

During the demonstration, the facilitator asked one of the survivors how it felt to talk about her lost person. She smiled and said "Relieved. I want to say his name all the time but no one asks anymore. No one asked after about three months."

Let's think about that. Three months. That's all we afford people. They WANT to talk about their lost person, but we don't say the lost one's name because we don't want to "remind" the survivor.

That's absurd when we think about it. After profound loss, there's not one thing anyone can say that "reminds" us. We live with reminders. Constant reminders. We have years and years of memories that remind us. There's nothing that can change that.

What can change is how we talk with those in grief. If you don't know what to say? Perfect. Please don't feel the need to. Sit with the person in grief. Provide space to talk about their lost one in as much or as little detail as they want to. Listening is much more comforting than offering empty platitudes like "Everything happens for a reason." That's a tough one to swallow when we're in the depth of grief and, honestly, probably will only result in the survivor not wanting to open up at all because it's so tone-deaf.

Despite working with grief for several years now, I often think "I wouldn't know what to say to (x) about their loss." But, I also know that I don't have to say anything. I can ask. Even now, if someone asks me about Bill, I'm more than happy to talk about what a crazy, happy lunatic he was. That doesn't make me sad at all. It provides me with so much joy to talk about the life force he was.