Grief is an interesting journey, sometimes its predictable, most times not. Sometimes people approach your grief with the right words and a hug, but most of the times not. Most people stumble through their condolences with the wrong words and the pity look. Any grieving parent knows that look, the tilted head, sad puppy eyes, corners of their mouth drooping downward, and an audible sign of pity. Its the look you give a bird with a broken wing or a child who dropped their ice cream cone on the pavement, its not a look for grieving parents. When faced with this look and the wrong words the grieving parent instantly withdraws and gives the person asking the standard "ok" answer. When you see a grieving parent, dont look at them like they are a wounded puppy, their grief is so thick that it wont help. Offer a hug, give them a shoulder to cry on, bring them something, dont offer "let me know if there is something I can do for you" instead say "do you have a specific meal you would like when I bring you dinner next week" or "I am going to take your dog out, what time works best for you." Grieving parents know you mean well when you give the look or say the cliche condolences but a sincere "I dont know what to say but just know my heart hurts with you" does the trick a lot of the times.
What doesnt help and should never be said is the "It will get better soon," "they are in a better place" or the one I came across the other day "I have seen worse..." Hmmm you dont say. Well if you have seen worse then I feel much better, in fact I think I am done grieving and want to go play in a nursery full of young babies. Do you want to come over and drink beer and watch the football game cause I am cool now, I will relay the message to my wife that you have seen worse and that our grief is done so I dont have to watch her cry her eyes out anymore, thanks dude.
But who would say something like that, especially to a newly grieving parent? Well my coworker would, he is about my age, same position in life, all around a pretty decent person once you get to talking to him. When I returned to work after my absence I saw him and I knew he wanted to offer his 'condolences.' I shook his hand and he said "I am sorry to hear about your baby.......but I have seen worse." Shocked I stood there blankly and listened to him continue on how his wife worked in a NICU for 4-5 years and these babies have a lot of problems in life and you are better off not having your son as it would have been a challenging life and the NICU nurses basically teach the parents to suffocate the child who do not do well to save them from a life of challenges. I let him rant on for a couple minutes as he elaborated on this and walked away from him by saying "I will catch up with you later." But really I was walking through a tunnel of anger just trying not to freak out and lose my job. How dare you minimize my grief by saying such a crass statement as "I have seen worse" and then go on to say that its better that my fucking son is dead because he would have had troubles in life. I know his life would have been altered but it would have been his life, not his death. I want to raise my son no matter what he would have faced in life. I wanted to give him a chance to face life in general! And he has not seen worse, he has not seen his child die, he has not seen his wife hold his 12 day old child in her arms as he dies. HE HAS NOT SEEN THAT. I am afraid the outcome could have been different if I let anger take control, if I would have succumb to the bubbling rage that filled my body. I replay that scene over in my head where I scream at him my reaction to his statements. But I am glad I did not because he really was trying to give condolences to me and he just thought what he knew would have helped. I am however going to avoid talking to him at all costs as I still get angry when I see him. And if he tries to continue on I will blow up on him, job be damned.
I want to sit down with someone and talk to them about how I am feeling, I want it to be in a private place and in person. I want it to be unsolicited so it does not feel like someone is doing me a favor, I want it to feel like they want to hear me vent. I did a little at TCF tonight but she just lost her son (at 40 years of age) a day before Marcellus died so I really did not want to dump all my emotions on her.
Grief is tricky, sly, and patient. It will wait for you, life be damned.
No comments:
Post a Comment