What not to do when you don't know what to do.
I saw a link today to an entertainment article about how Gwenyth Paltrow is still grieving for her dad. Her father died suddenly less than a year ago.

Seeing this link mad me a little mad. Why is it news that she's still grieving? And why shouldn't she still be grieving? If she weren't still grieving about it, that would be more cause for a story than the fact that she still is. It's only been a year.

I think it's the word 'still'. I'm still grieving the loss of my sister, and she died over four years ago. I grieve her everyday. But to say 'still' almost implies that it should have been over. "Has she shut up, yet? No, she's still talking."

Has she gotten over it, yet? No, she's still grieving. (insert eye roll here)

I had a great conversation the other night with a friend I haven't really 'talked' much with about the deeper things in life. My sister came up and through the course of the conversation we talked about how people respond to me when they find out I lost my sister. Some people know what to do or say, most people don't. My friend asked me what I wished people would do in response, like what would be a good way to respond. I've been thinking about that ever since.

I've had mixed responses from people throughout the time I've been without my sister. Some people take off in another direction because they don't know what to do with me. They leave completely. Some people jump in and feel like they have to save me. Others try for awhile, then get frustrated with me and leave. Some people say all the canned phrases we always hear: "She's in a better place now." Or, "Time will heal this." Some poeple just keep being my friend. There's a lot of variety in the way people react to a friend experiencing a loss. Some of it good, some of it not so good. I can tell most of the ways people have responded to me have come from a good place in their hearts. In many instances, just the efforts people make to try mean more than what they actually say or do.

But, I honestly can't say there is anything I wish people would do. Or say. I don't think I've ever laid a request on anyone to do anything for me, or expected anything from anyone that they weren't already offering. I generally had my needs met in the 'how people can help' department. Quite honestly, nothing anyone can do or say is what I need. And to expect of people something they can't furnish is not the way to go about getting through a tough situation. Absolutely it helps for people to be there to listen, and talk, and to show compassion, to lighten the mood, and to even do material, routine things like bring a meal over, or help make phone calls, or any number of other things that suddenly become hard to do when your brain is consumed with heartache.

But more than a list of things I wish people would do, from my own experience I keep thinking of things I wish people wouldn't do in response to my grief. Or grief in general. I wish people wouldn't treat me differently, like I'm not still me just because I cry now, or because I get emotional about things that don't make sense to others. I wish people wouldn't treat me as a project that they need to take on, to fix, to carry through until they deem me 'okay'. I wish people wouldn't place expectations on me to respond to them in ways that make them feel they are doing the right things for me. I wish people wouldn't give of themselves to me with the expectation that I can reciprocate that any time soon. I wish people wouldn't be disappointed in me when I'm not who they need me to be right now.

I wish people wouldn't feel like it's a burden to reach out to me when I need it, when I'm not able to reach out to them when I need them. I wish people wouldn't mistake my sadness, or fear, or difficulty in knowing how to react to the loss I'm experiencing as a personal attack on them. I wish people wouldn't watch me grieve with a critical eye, like they know a better way to go through what I'm going through, or like they wouldn't be freaking out just as much as I have. I wish people wouldn't tell me what they've done for me, or how much they've sacrificed to be there for me, like I don't realize it, and expect that I owe them something in return for them being my friend in a tough time. Or expect that I can automatically understand why they leave when they decide they've had enough.

I wish people wouldn't give me a time limit on how long I can require patience and compassion from them. Or on how long I'm allowed to grieve. Or on when I should be 'okay' and back to normal so that they aren't burdened with me anymore. I wish people wouldn't listen to me when I share my pain with the intent to take my words and save my world when I finish sharing my pain. I wish people wouldn't take my pain, and not understand what they have when they have it. I wish people wouldn't assume I'm not okay, or assume I am okay. I wish people wouldn't be afraid of me, of being around me now.

I wish people wouldn't expect that I have major expectations of them to take care of me when I can't take care of myself. I wish people wouldn't assume I need something from them, avoiding me to keep themselves off the hook. I wish people wouldn't take advantage of me, confusing situations and issues that aren't related, and attributing it all to being my fault that I may not be thinking clearly. I wish people wouldn't help me out of selfish reasons. I wish people wouldn't underestimate me, or my strength, or my weakness. I wish people wouldn't write me off when I'm not at my best for awhile. I wish people wouldn't let grief be their complete picture of me.

I guess there is one thing I wish people would do. I wish people would think, before they say anything or do anything in an effort to be a friend when I need it. Or when any grieving person needs it. The details of what you should and shouldn't do will work itself out, if your heart is in the right place. Just be who you are, and let them be who they are.

I realize grief doesn't give a grieving person a 'Get ouf of Jail Free' card. It doesn't give us the okay to act however we want, and blame it on grief. But, grief is a big deal. It does affect more about a person than just the line between sadness and happiness. Sometimes it's hard to balance that and be okay without some extra patience and understanding from those around us. But we do get better. I'm not 'grieving' around all the time these days. You probably wouldn't notice to look at me or being around me, if you didn't already know. It's not because I hide it. I'm just learning how to live with it.

When tragedy strikes, no one reacts or responds perfectly, and that's okay. The most important thing isn't even about how people respond, or what they do or don't do. I just got to thinking, and this 'list' is what I thought about. I've heard people say that it's how you handle a situation like a loss that is a true testimony of who you are. But I don't agree with that. I think that puts pressure on us to handle things the 'right' or 'Christian' or 'proper' way. I believe the true testimony is what we learn through it and how we start to get our footing back.

Truly, I believe grief doesn't end. I think twenty years from now, I'll still be grieving the loss of my sister. I'm not going to get over it, although hopefully I'll be more at peace with it. That may be disappointing to some, but I don't look at that as a bad thing. Or unhealthy. Quite the opposite, actually. Grief keeps me in touch with her, and reminds me that I miss someone who was very special to me.

But I'll hope if I'm still grieving years from now, it's not newsworthy material then.

C.T.