Death is Hard for the Living
Not for Those Who Actually Experience It
I just found out my dear friend, Bev, passed away on Saturday night. She’d been diagnosed with ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) a couple years ago. I’m out of town, staying with my son and daughter-in-law, and we were together when I got the text informing me of her passing. My kids surrounded me with their love and support, clearly concerned for me, but I told them immediately that I was okay, not to worry.
My daughter-in-law, who recently lost her grandmother, noted that she could tell I was sincere when I told her I was happy for my friend, because she didn’t have to suffer anymore, and that I knew she was in a very good place now. My daughter-in-law continues to struggle with her grandmother’s death earlier this year and asked me how I managed to find peace in a time of great sadness like losing someone I loved.
Sometimes, when someone is trying to comfort someone when they’re dealing with loss, they’re not sure what to say. They want to help, but they don’t know how, so they offer common platitudes in hopes they’ll ease the pain of loss. There’s nothing wrong with that, especially with the good intentions attached, but the intention is oftentimes more heartfelt than the words they offer in their hope of helping.
