I lost my father on May 15, 2016. This experience has taught me so much. Some of my friends have already lost parents and, statistically speaking, nearly all of my friends will lose at least one parent over the next 20 years. These are things I didn’t realize before losing my dad. I feel bad, looking back to times when my friends lost parents or loved ones because I realize I did not do what I should have done and I could have been a much better friend. I learned so much about how to be a better friend to others going through this hard time, so I wanted to share what I’ve learned.
First, losing a parent is hard. It is always hard. It doesn’t matter if your parent was old and
you are middle aged or older. It doesn’t
matter if they lived “a good long life.” Yes, this is the natural order of things and,
yes, we all know it will happen someday, but it is still hard when it happens. You mourn the loss not only of the parent as
he/she was at the time they died, you also mourn the loss of the parent of your
childhood. You mourn the loss of that
shared history. My father was 87 when he
died and he’d been in declining health for several years. His mind was still sound, though, and I had
still enjoyed talking to him daily.
There are some factors that may make it slightly easier or harder to
prepare for the death of a parent- if it was the result of a long or painful
illness, for example, it may be easier to be comforted by the fact that your
parent is no longer in pain or suffering.
It is still hard, though, because you don’t just mourn the loss of that
parent as they were at the end. You
mourn the end of your life with them. To
a certain extent, even as an adult, you mourn the loss of your childhood. You realize that that parent is the only
person who shared many of your childhood moments and you mourn the loss of your
unique relationship with them. So, never
down-play the grief someone feels when losing a parent. No matter what the age or circumstance, it is
a profound loss. It greatly helped me
when people expressed to me that they understood how hard it is to lose a
parent, when they gave me permission to grieve deeply.
Second, a person who is grieving needs love and support. I was not always good at this when friends
and relatives lost loved ones. I didn’t
know what to do and I didn’t want to intrude.
I sometimes felt like I wasn’t a close enough friend, so I should give
them space. I assumed their close
friends and relatives would provide the support they needed. I’ve learned, though, that you can never have
too much support and love in times of grief.
If the person needs space, they can simply turn off their phone or not
answer texts or e-mails. Don’t be afraid
to call, text, e-mail, bring food, etc.
Any support is appreciated and you won’t be seen as a bother. It doesn’t matter if you are a close friend
to the grieving person or just an acquaintance who cares. It will be appreciated.
Third, it is best to offer something specific to help
someone who is grieving. Offering to
help however you can is nice, but it is better to just do something helpful or
offer specific help. After my father
died, I was so overwhelmed with grief and the funeral planning process that I
really didn’t know what help I needed or who to ask, even though many people
had offered to help me “in any way”. I
greatly appreciated the friends who just brought food or offered to watch my
kids on specific days/times. I
appreciated the thoughtfulness of everyone who offered to help, but I hesitated
to ask them for help unless they’d offered something specific. I didn’t want to impose. In times like these when the heart is working
overtime and the logical mind is struggling, it is often best for friends to
step in and say, “Here, I’ll take care of this for you.”
One friend called me just as I was needing help and it was
so fortuitous that I think it had to be my Dad reaching down from Heaven to
offer me some help. I was at the mall
trying to find something for the kids, my mother, and myself to wear to the
funeral. Let me just say that, while I
normally kind of enjoy shopping, the mall is not really the place you want to
be when you’re grieving and already overwhelmed by funeral planning. I found myself wandering aimlessly through
department stores looking at all clothes that were black or gray. I felt flustered and confused. I realized I hadn’t eaten anything since a
light breakfast that morning and it was 4PM.
Just then, my phone rang and my friend called. She told me she was free that evening and
asked what she could do to help me. I
told her my situation and she came to meet me at the mall. She helped me to stay focused and accomplish
what I needed to do and ate a quick dinner with me so I didn’t pass out from
hunger. Sometimes just calling to say “I’m
free now, what do you need?” is great.
Other friends brought food to the visitation, babysat my
kids, or brought meals for my family.
This was all so appreciated.
Before this experience, I was always one who said “let me know if I can
do anything” to people who were grieving.
I never quite knew what to do and no one ever took me up on my offer to
“do anything.” It is better to either say, “what do you need?”
or “what can I do?” or to simply offer something you know you can do.
Lastly, I learned that grief and the need for support doesn’t
end when the funeral is over. I’ve so
appreciated the friends who’ve continued to check on me, who’ve sent sympathy
cards, or who’ve provided support in other ways. I think the hardest part of the grieving
process is after the funeral is over and life is supposed to return to normal. It is important to reach out to people who
are grieving at that time. You might
want to also think about anniversary dates that will be difficult for the
grieving person- birthdays, holidays, death anniversary date, etc. Reach out to your friend on those dates to
see how they are doing. Just knowing
that others remember and care can be very comforting.
When someone is grieving, we often feel awkward. It is an intimate time, a time when a person
is at their most raw and vulnerable. We
are afraid of doing something wrong or somehow making things worse. I have learned, though, that there really is
nothing you can do that is wrong as long as you are providing support, caring,
and offering your love.
