A guide to helping me return to work while I’m grieving.

I wrote this guide for my coworkers based on my experience, research and various pamphlets and books that are helping me with by grief. I’m sharing it here for coworkers at other companies who want to know what to do and how to approach people returning to work. I hope this helps you.

My person died.

So begins a journey through a forest of grief, of which I have yet to emerge. While I’m walking here however, I want to open my experience of grief to you. It’s what I’ve always done, it’s what my person would have done too. The amazingness of her courage was to face things that were dark, horrible and impossible with an “ok, so let’s do this” attitude. So, shit — ok, let’s do this.

For the weeks leading up to my return to work, my family, friends, and professionals helped me through a very complex set of emotions and government regulations to steer my life since she died. Now it’s my coworkers turn to be part of that journey, so here’s everything they need to know and some things they’ll want to know to help us through it.

What if you, as my co-worker, are affected by my story or my return to work and need to talk to someone?

If you get stuck, or have any other questions, you can contact your Talent Team rep or direct manager and ask them to access counselling. They can provide it. If you’re immediately affected and don’t feel like you can call family, friends or co-workers, call Lifeline.

Lifeline is not only a suicide prevention hotline, they will listen to you and talk complex emotions through with you. This is why they exist. Use them. 13 11 14

You need to know grief is weird and everyone grieves differently. There is no normal.

You can’t customer interview your way out of this one — every single person who grieves does it in their own way, there are common traits to grief but how we process those and how fast we get through different things — is different.

You should keep an eye out for when you accidentally tell me how I should be feeling, a safe bet is to avoid saying things like:

• You must be feeling angry,
• You should think about your future,
• You must keep positive.

While much of my experience with grief will match what you have heard, seen or experienced — other parts will not.

You do not need to match my story or experience with some personal circumstance to be able to empathise with me or talk to me about it, just chill — we’ll get through this together.

You need to know I am able to decide what I’m capable of.

Having people assume I’m incapable of doing certain tasks, taking on certain workloads, travelling or interacting — makes this process harder. This is not always intentional by the person.

Please understand, I’m able to decide how much work I can and can’t do. I won’t take on more than I can handle, and those close to me will keep an eye on what I deliver. Do not decide for me what you think I am not able to handle — assume that I’m working normally, with my normal skills just as you would any other person in my role.

You don’t need to:

• Tell me I should rest,
• Tell me I should do less work,
• Tell me I should go home (ok, maybe if it’s at 11pm or something),
• Refuse me projects because I’m not ready,
• Change the way you talk to me, or
• Treat me any differently than any other team member.

Trust me — that I’m able to tell you when I can’t do something (and I will), or that I’m not coping with something. If you have concerns about my work output, talk to me directly first, before you talk to my manager.

You need to know grief is non-linear.

I’m not going through the “Seven stages of grief” like there’s some kind of order. I’m navigating through the eleventy billion points of grief, with no real map. I cry a lot, seemingly at random — and at random things. I’ll be sad, angry, upset, and importantly happy — but at different times.

I might also not be super keen to hang out with people, or be in overwhelming environments — I may work from home, or work from the office — I might work from a different part of the office. Just, let me navigate this, but engage with me like normal. I’m still me — just processing.

You should keep an eye out:

• If I act “depressed”- grief is about processing loss, if you think my grief is wrapping me in an inescapable darkness, then I may be depressed. If you think I’m at risk of this, you should talk to my or your talent team member, or if you feel comfortable, to me directly.
• I might get a sudden rush of emotions — I’m good at spotting this, and might just step out of the room, meeting or conversation — please do not continue to engage if I do this. I just need a minute, some air, a coffee, or a walk.
• For signs I’m not comfortable with the conversation topics (see below). I’ll be ready to talk when I’m ready.

You’ll want to know that I am happy to talk about my person.

Yes, it’s hard. Yes, it hurts — but I want to be able to talk about her. Many people will feel the urge to avoid it as a conversation. She was my person, and I’m happy to talk about her — it’s healthy. Don’t avoid talking about her with me because you are worried it will make me upset — I’ll tell you when I can’t, I’ll tell you when you’re out of line — but chances are you won’t be.

Talking about her will help me process my grief — I welcome it.

You’ll want to know how to ask how I’m doing.

People want to ask “How are you doing?” it’s human nature, you’re an empathetic person — this is normal.

Firstly, I’m terrible — thanks for asking.

It’s not a great question to ask, because there’s no easy way to answer it. You can make a lot of assumptions about how I’m feeling — think it through, but if you do happen to ask outright, that’s ok! we’ll get through this awkwardness together.

I’ve included a helpful list below of questions that are less confusing for me to answer than “how are you doing”,

1. Do you want to grab a coffee and chat?
2. Have you been sleeping better?
3. Is there anything I can do for you?

Also, generally let me know your level of interest in chats, coffee and general escaping. Looking for subjects to engage with me on? Here’s some examples from a grief book:

• What part of the day is hardest for you?
• What practical things are you finding difficult at the moment?
• What is the most helpful thing I could do for you?

You’ll want to know, you should avoid telling me “It will get better”.

Look — it’s tempting to tell me that things will get better. I’m a Christian, I’ve studied psychology, lived mindfulness, suffered loss and trauma in my life. It’s tempting to give a throw away line to ease someones feelings — but grief is weird and complicated and it’s going to require a total rewrite of how I experience life.

So let’s just agree to saying “I hope this gets better for you soon”.

You can also safely avoid:

• You’re never given more than you can handle,
• This too will pass,
• You will never get over it,
• It was for the best (Yes, someone has already said this),
• It was God’s will,
• You need to stay busy to distract yourself,
• Time heals all things/wounds,
• You’re still young….

You’ll want to know that it’s safe to connect me to your widow/widower friends.

You might not know what to say and you might want to connect me to your friend who suffered loss too, so that we can grief out together. I’ve learned in the last few weeks that lots of people are affected by this situation. People want to shove grieving people together. While a lower percentage are my age — it happens! I’ve now got a great network that is growing and I’d love to connect to more people but I don’t require this — it’s just good to have a network.

And finally,

You’ll need to know that I’m doing ok.

But, my current feeling is: disorientated.

This has not been a great journey to be on. It hasn’t been easy. It has been very painful, confusing, uprooting, but also uplifting, encouraging and inspirational. I’ve learned a lot about myself and who my wife was. I’ve spent a lot of time reflecting, reading, writing and meditating.

My family have returned home, but I’m getting regular support from friends (a non-zero number of them are psychologists who keep checking in too), close family as well, and more.

I’ve appreciated all of your support, from the comments, attendance at the funeral, hugs, food, flowers, cards, hugs, messages on slack/facebook/phone, coffee/waffles, hugs, walks and talks, and all that has been provided.

I can’t thank you enough for your demonstration of what I mean to you, as a coworker and friend as an overwhelming outpouring of love.

I also want to call out how lucky I am to have an excellent set of people who are willing to say “Let’s make this work”, both as I exited the office without notice, and now as I return.

You need to know, you really stepped up! For that I am so thankful.

Normally you’ve seen me be very open about my story with coworkers, the impact those events have had on me and how I’m jumping back to things. I’m not yet ready to share the full story of the last weeks yet because I haven’t finished working out what impact it’s had on me.

This might take some time, but I’m glad you’re all here to help me through it.

Sources: Coping with Grief 5th Edition by Dianne McKissock, Mal McKissock, various pamphlets and personal experience.