Responding to the widowed
Grieving can take a long time
In the shattering aftermath of becoming a widow it’s not surprising I was sensitive to some of the well-meaning efforts of friends to express sorrow for my loss. Some people are not comfortable around grieving people, but support from others is essential as grieving must be done in community. I hope my story and suggestions will encourage you to reach out to widows.
I found it difficult when people asked how I was because it was so hard to answer. Questions flashed through the fog of my mind. Do you really want to know? If I answer truthfully will you be embarrassed with my honest answer? If I do tell you I am OK now will you be confused later when I say I am not? My feelings changed dramatically and often.
It was good when people acknowledged my loss, at times saying something as simple as, ‘I was sorry to hear of John’s death.’ This allowed a choice of whether to respond or not.
Some more tips:
Don’t use trite expressions or quote from the Bible to comfort me. There was nothing that would take away the pain but I did appreciate being told you would pray for me. Hugs are important too, but ask first.
Do mention my late husband by name. When people avoided saying my husband’s name or sharing memories of him it made me feel as though he never existed.
Ask me specific questions but understand when I can only respond slowly because my brain’s severely shocked and it takes time to make new connections.
Don’t tell me how I feel as you’re probably wrong, but I don’t have the energy to disagree.
Speak to me in your normal voice – there is no need to deepen it. (I still have no idea how to respond to that one.)
Give me the special gift of listening. Widows need to tell our story frequently because it helps us come to terms with the loss. Don’t ask questions, don’t probe deeper, just listen. If tears come, then recognise it is special to share tears with a grieving person.
Keep in touch, especially in the days before significant dates and holidays.
Include me in invitations but don’t press when I say no. Going out took more energy than I had to spare. It warmed my heart to be asked but the self absorption of grief also made it difficult for me to take an interest in others’ lives for a while.
I was often restless in the early days and needed to move. I’m glad my family didn’t do everything for me.
Sometimes friends hurt me. I was once asked, ‘Are you alone?’ Of course I am! It’s right there in front of me all the time.
I remember being asked if I was going to remarry; six weeks after my husband’s death. Yeah right! And, ‘Who was that man who answered the phone?’ Answer: my son.
A message here to wives: No, I didn’t have designs on your husband! Recognising that look in your eyes was very hurtful at a time when I was most vulnerable.
Fortunately, I kept my sense of humour, although it became rather black at times.
Grieving can take a long time, far longer than society and the media think. Recognise that as a friend of a widow you’re in it for the long haul and know that your support could give them the hope and the courage they need to grieve well.
By Janette Busch, a technical/science writer and editor in New Zealand. She has two adult children and attends Opawa Baptist Church. This article is reprinted with kind permission of Daystar Magazine.