“Praising what is lost / Makes the remembrance dear.”
William Shakespeare, All’s Well That Ends Well
When I was a college speech teacher years ago, I used to tell my students that the top two fears people had were death and public speaking. I was afraid of the former but through years of practice had trained myself not to fear the latter. If I were to add a third fear, I think I’d simply combine the first two. People are afraid of talking about death.
Rob knew this well. It’s why he wrote The Art of Dying. In his hospice and funeral work, Rob saw families and friends who avoided death at all costs — approving invasive medical interventions when death was inevitable, fighting with each other (and even the dying person sometimes!) about what the dying person’s end should look like, avoiding the reality of death altogether. Over and over, he encountered people who wanted to ignore that foreboding elephant in the room. Death sat in the corner waiting, and nobody wanted to talk about it, much less prepare for it.
I don’t think it would surprise Rob at all to know that after death the avoidance is no different. Whether death is in process or a done deal, people still don’t want to talk about it. Many grieving people find that, after the death of their loved one, folks shift to avoiding conversation about the person who died. Some don’t wish to inflict further pain by repeating the person’s name. (Hint: that’s not possible.) Others feel awkward acknowledging the death themselves. Either way, the result, though often unintended, is that the grieving person feels as though his or her loved one has been forgotten. Everyone knows he or she is gone, but nobody wants to say it. The lost loved one becomes the dead elephant in the room.
Though it might feel counterintuitive, one of the kindest things you can do for a grieving person is to ask, “Tell me about your loved one.” By encouraging the sharing of memories, you actually lessen the isolation of grief. You allow the grieving person to talk about the one who fills her thoughts all day, every day. This sharing is actually a vital part of the grief process, and you might find that it helps you edge a little closer to that most difficult conversation topic also. What a gift!
Recently I recorded three podcast episodes that will air next month. I look forward to sharing them with you when they release. Among the joys of those conversations was the joy of talking about Rob. Nothing makes my heart happier than to share stories about our life together. I always love when people ask about him. About his quirks, his writing, his life. Even his death. Talking about Rob brings him back to life, even for just a bit. When people say his name, when they share a story or invite me to do the same, I am reminded that others have not forgotten him either. Shakespeare was right: “Praising what is lost / Makes the remembrance dear.”
what a helpful blog to read about how we can best reach out to someone who has lost their loved one.
Although I didn’t know Rob, I just remember seeing how you seemed so happy together as a couple when you sat together at church. It seemed like he would be away some Sundays and the Sundays he was home sitting with you, you seem to radiate!
Although I only knew Rob for two and a half years, I still miss him and think of him often. I will never forget where I was and the shock I felt when I got the text telling me he died.
Eleven months later you and all of Rob’s family are still in my thoughts and prayers everyday.
It is sort of different, because I know none of you and none of you know me. I just knew and loved Rob and knew how much he loved each of you.
I knew him well enough to know how proud he would be of you Clarissa and (as the previous comment mentioned) the good your writing is doing for so many people.
May our Loving Heavenly Father hold all of you in His Everlasting Arms!
Count me as a person you can always talk about death with!
Yes, name the elephant in the room.
When my son died, I never liked it when people avoided, often out of feeling awkward I’m sure, talking about it, or saying, “Ah, I’ve been offering lots of prayers for you on the lost of, ah, your son. We sure love you. Be sure and let me know if I can do anything.”
Sometimes I helped them out by asking, “Are you wondering how I am feeling these days after Ian’s death? It’s okay if you say his name. He was your friend, too.”
Or even, “I can only imagine how much you are missing Ian. What things have you most been missing these last few months?”
If you are sincere and loving and kind, most people appreciate it when you show your concern and name your loved one’s name.