I never know how to respond when people say this to me.
Even when it's slightly modified, like in Emma Thompson's adaptation of Sense and Sensibility when Mrs. Jenning's son-in-law says to Elinor when Marianne was sick: "I'm more sorry than words can say."
When people say that to me, my first and only thought is: Well, me too. I'm sorry he died, too. I'm devastated. Adrift.
People never know what to say to grieving ones, but grieving ones don't either.
I went shopping with my mom during my first visit to Oregon after Rob died. We were at a consignment shop to pick up some maternity clothes for me, because I'd already started showing.
I ran into a girl I'd gone to high school with, also pregnant, also with her mom. She chatted happily about her family and her plans and even mentioned her husband. I plastered a fake smile on, chuckled and said, "Me, too." I left as soon as I could and hoped I never ran into her again.
I couldn't tell her about Rob. It would've terrified her -- people think widowhood is somehow contagious. Or probably it's just the sudden realization that everyone's mortal and the same thing could happen to them. People don't want a reminder of that having lunch with them. Besides, she wouldn't have known what to say, and I hate putting people in that position -- where their eyes widen, and fear and sadness and grief pool in them and their mouth opens and closes like a caught fish flapping on the shore.
I didn't want to do that to her. It would've ruined her day. So I laughed instead, and waved good-bye.
2 comments:
I feel you on desire to not spring the your grief on other people.
But I think messing with people, just a little, is always a good thing. Stirs up truth and spirit. Wakes up the slumbering mind. Maybe they will have a flood of different emotions. But maybe they will hug their loved ones a little tighter, a little longer that night. Or maybe it will stir up some emotional storms that will help them to break through to a new level of awareness.
How much you want to invest in having to deal with their reaction is an entirely different question though. Choosing our battles so to speak.
Of course I haven't lost a partner and few good friends so I could just be shooting off at the keyboard.
Nice post either way.
Thanks, Benjah.
I think I mostly didn't want to shoot it at them in the check-out line, or a locker room. If I had had time to have a true conversation with them, over a cup of tea or something, then that was different.
Now I say it in passing all the time. :) Ah, the distance of ten years ....
Now, that was pretty flippant. So ... let that shake your world.
And thanks for the comment.
Valerie
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