I felt stunned when my tears were met with silence.
It was summer 2014, roughly a year and a half after my mom died, and I remember the season as if it were yesterday. By this point in my grief journey, I’d finally reached the place where attempting to sidestep the pain associated with my loss no longer worked. Not only did my body desperately ache, but I also began to experience a depth of psychological pain I’d never encountered before. After months of denying the realities of grief, I finally felt comfortable talking about my mom and expressing my true feelings in the presence of others.
With grief expression top of mind … a result of prodding by my therapist at the time … I accepted a friend’s invitation to join her for lunch at a quaint little restaurant. I’m sure she felt surprised by my ‘yes,’ given the slew of declines I’d offered in the year following my mom’s death. For quite some time, I lacked the emotional stamina to spend time with people and didn’t want to run the risk of being labeled ‘the sad friend.’ On this day, however, I felt prepared to be real and raw, unveiling all the emotions I’d suppressed for far too long.
While I’m not sure what I expected my friend to say, I certainly didn’t anticipate her simply staring back at me with nothing to say at all. In no uncertain terms, I shared how lonely and hurt I felt in my grief. I allowed tears to stream down my face with no attempt to stop the flow of sadness and heartache. I gave vulnerability permission to show up in the space. And nothing happened.
Think about that for a moment, and ask yourself whether you’ve been in a similar situation throughout your own grief journey.
Unfortunately, this is an all-too-common experience. Supporting someone who’s grieving isn’t for the faint of heart. Why? Because grief is messy. It doesn’t come with a playbook. And in all fairness, there are many verbal “landmines” a person might find themselves in when attempting to engage a grieving friend or family member in conversation.
So sometimes, grief is met with silence.
The truth is that my friend didn’t intend to hurt me. In her mind, it was better to remain silent than to say something off putting, cliché, or selfish. And in hindsight, I appreciate her for making the best decision at that moment. At the time, however, her response felt distant and unfeeling.
Months after this lunch encounter, I realized how important it was to explore soft places to land in grief – that is, identify people who could meet my varying emotional needs.
For example, the friend I’d met with for lunch offered the gift of laughter and levity in stressful situations. She’d been a go-to person to spend time with at the end of a long workday. At lunch, however, what I needed was a shoulder to cry on. She couldn’t afford that in the moment.
I began to highlight each of my friends’ unique qualities and explore which ones could meet specific needs. One friend easily sat with emotions. Another was a wonderful problem solver. Yet another friend’s physical presence comforted me even in the absence of words. Little by little, it became clear who I could lean on in any given moment as my grief ebbed and flowed.
Creating space to identify soft places also helped me recognize the value each friend brought to the table. I realized that everyone offers support in different ways … and that’s OK. Instead of becoming frustrated about what I felt someone may not be doing as I grieved, I chose to recognize the ways they could help me – whether that be emotional support, practical assistance, physical presence, or spiritual encouragement.
My friend, my hope is that my experience encourages you to explore your own support circle.
Not all friends are created equal when it comes to grief support.
Choose to lean into the soft places when you need a listening ear, compassionate touch, or witness to your pain.
If you’re a grief supporter and want to learn more about how to support a grieving friend or family member, you’re welcome to check out one of my free resources – “How to Show Up for Someone Who’s Grieving” webinar. Simply click here.
Remember, grieving is hard enough. Exploring soft places to land in grief is a gift you deserve to give yourself.
xo, Mekel