How Not to be a Jerk Face with Grievers
Grief is hard. I know. Ten years ago I lost my husband Pete. I cried multiple times a day for six months. I remember the day around the nine-month mark when I had a day without tears! I was so lost. The pain was excruciating. I could not see that I had a future without him. I felt like an amputee. Like I had lost a part of myself, and it wasn’t ever going to grow back.
A year or so later, I started grief support group at Crossroads Church and have walked a similar journey with hundreds of people who have lost spouses, infants, children, friends, parents, nieces/nephews, aunts and uncles, grandparents. Each grief journey is unique. And it is always hard. When we begin our group, we congratulate people on coming because it takes courage to grieve. We welcome them “to a club you never chose to join.”
You are reading this either because you have lost someone you loved a lot, or you have a friend or family member who has lost someone and they are grieving. You want to help. Be a friend.
Being in grief is a tender time. Casual comments can be cutting. Those of us who are grieving or have grieved talk about PWACs (People Without A Clue.)
So here are some tips on how to comfort another person who is grieving- not be a PWAC and definitely not a jerkface.
Don’t say:
How are you doing? Jerkface! How am I supposed to answer this? I am awful! Better if you had asked — How’s today going?
“They are in a better place.” Jerkface! Just say “I’m sorry.”
“Call me if you need anything.” Jerkface! This is not very helpful because I can’t even get myself to make a phone call. Much better if you had said — hey I can help you write thank you notes, and I can cook a mean chili. I’ll call you tomorrow to find out what you need.
“I’m so proud of you. You are doing great.” Jerkface. I know you are trying to encourage me but cant you see I am not doing well. You make it sound so easy. I feel pressure like I need to be doing good or you won’t accept me.
“Must have been God’s plan.” Jerkface! How can you love a God who would plan this? As a Crossroads pastor, I don’t believe this loss was God’s plan. Death was never part of his original plan. Death entered the world as a result of sin. This ‘being His plan” is not the God I know. The God I know looks like Jesus on the cross. He died to give us life.
So what are you going to do now? Jerkface! I am overwhelmed now. I have no idea what I am going to do. I’d rather you ask what I need right now. I might just need you to listen. Or be quiet with me. Or help with a task.
Cheer up! Jerkface! Don’t ask me to avoid feeling bad. That won’t help me. I’d rather you ask me to talk about what I am feeling. I know that is painful for you to watch my intense sadness.
“God must have wanted him with Him now.” Jerkface! God was with him all along. I’d rather you acknowledge that God’s ways are mysterious and we can never really understand his purposes or his timing.
“I can’t believe you are not over this. You are still crying? You shouldn’t be sad. You have such good memories.” Jerkface! YOU try living on memories! Why can’t you just cry with me?
“Why are you upset? It’s a miscarriage, not like you lost a living child.” Jerkface! Whaaaat?
At the loss of your Mom, a friend says “Well at least you still have your Dad. I don’t have mine.” Jerkface! Of course — this is all about you.
“I want you to date again.” Jerkface! You just want relief from worrying about me. Invite me instead to join you in whatever you are doing.
“You should be ready to move on.” Jerkface! Don’t push me to move on faster than I can go. Hate to tell you, but old me is never coming back. I am forever changed. I’d prefer if you would just walk this journey with me. You could be such a comfort just by your presence and acceptance of whatever I am feeling.
“I know exactly how you feel.” Jerkface! Excuse me, but you don’t. I’d rather you said my heart breaks for you — I know grief — and my heart aches for you.
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him” Romans 8:28 Jerkface! Don’t quote scripture at me. Yes — it is probably true, but your timing sucks. I can’t receive this right now.
I wrote a letter to family and friends after I lost Pete that describes what I needed from them as I grieved. Perhaps it’s helpful instruction to anyone not wanting to be a jerkface.
Dear family and friends,
These last months after I lost Pete have been more difficult than I ever imagined. The pain is severe and I am not sure when it will end. It is taking a lot longer than I had expected.
Thank you for being my friend through this journey. Your support has indeed helped me during this grief time. Your presence and understanding means so much to me. Don’t worry about knowing what to say or even having to say anything at all. Your hug-your look of understanding and compassion-your listening is enough. Just your presence -walking this with me-is what I value.
Don’t feel like you have to fix me. I will heal in time and through God’s grace. Your patience is what is so important. Thanks for not rushing me. I don’t want to feel like I have to appear okay to you so you don’t worry about me.
If you don’t hear from me for awhile, call me. Sometimes I get lost in my own sadness and loneliness and can’t force myself to make the effort to be with others-even though I am always better after I do. So call. Send me notes. And please don’t hesitate in talking about Pete. You won’t upset me by talking about him. Actually this is comforting to me. It is nice to know that someone else other than me misses him too and remembers him.
Don’t let my tears or angry outbursts upset you either. My emotions are very intense-and lots of time I don’t even know why I am crying or angry. I count on your forgiveness and patience.
This loss is so painful right now it feels like the worst thing that could even happen to me. I know I will recover and I hope I will grow into a better person through this journey. I trust God that he will indeed ‘’turn my mourning into dancing again.”
I need and want your prayers. It is so comforting to know someone else is praying for me-because sometimes I don’t know what to pray myself. Thank you for caring for me. And thank you for listening. Your love comforts me. I will always be grateful for this.
Kathy
Anyone who is grieving needs your presence. Not your words. No jokes. No advice. Just hugs and compassion and patience. Do this and you’ll never be a jerkface.
