Whenever something tragic happens, we often say the same thing: “If you need anything, call me.”
It’s said with kindness and good intentions, and most people genuinely mean it. But here’s what I’ve learned, grieving people won’t call.
Not because they don’t need support. Not because they choose loneliness. But because grief changes people. It drains them emotionally, mentally, physically and socially. Many begin to feel like a burden. They don’t want to interrupt other people’s lives or weigh others down with their sadness. So instead of reaching out, they withdraw further into themselves.
A dear friend of mine recently suffered a devastating bereavement. I try to stay connected with him in whatever ways I can. We don’t live near each other, so I can’t always be physically present. But I mix up our interaction styles to keep things interesting. It might be a phone conversation. Other times it’s just a funny meme, a photo of the cat or a video that made me think of him.
None of it can solve the pain he’s experiencing. Grief cannot be fixed with a text message. But what these small gestures do say is: “You haven’t been forgotten.” You’re my buddy and I’m in your corner.
I spoke to him recently, and he admitted something heartbreaking. He felt as though everyone else had moved on with their lives while he remained trapped in sadness.
And in many ways, life does move on for people. They return to their lives, routines and habits, as he tries to navigate his sudden loss.
In the immediate aftermath of a death, support is everywhere. It can be overwhelming, flowers, sympathy cards, messages, visits, and phone calls. But as weeks turn into months, much of that fades away. Meanwhile, the grief itself remains just as real, if not harder. The silence settles in.
My friend told me he’d begun to feel as though some of his friends no longer wanted him around because of his sadness, that he was being quietly avoided, even left out of social gatherings. The thought of that actually enrages me! I understand grief can make people uncomfortable (it’s far from my favourite topic). I get how hard it is trying to speak with someone whose heart is broken, especially when you’re painfully aware nothing you say can fix what they’re going through.
There are many times when I don’t know what to say but not having the right words will never be a good enough reason to stop showing up for someone you care about during a season of grief.
What matters is consistency. Presence and inclusion. Reminding people, again and again, that they are loved. And they don’t have to face their darkest moments alone.
Friendship during difficult times isn’t about having perfect words or solving someone’s pain. There are no perfect words, there are no magic wands, oh how I wish there was.
Shannon Humphrey is a Youth and Adult Mental Health & Wellbeing Instructor for more information check out www.pathwaysforpositivity.com
Photo: Shutterstock
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