When Annie and I were writing articles together about how we were handling her cancer diagnosis as a mother and daughter, (read them here) one of the topics we wanted to cover was how to respond to the people who said things that were just a little bit inappropriate.
Cindy—This is wonderful and sure to be helpful both for those who are uncomfortable and don’t know what to say, and those who are on the other side of needing the presence of caring people.
In my work, I’ve often thought about these things and realized there’s nothing perfect I can say, so I allow my heart, presence, and ears to lead the way. I plan to write about the uselessness of platitudes, which I’m sure are designed to give comfort only to the person who says them. My work has also taught me that when we feel uncomfortable in the presence of another person’s pain, it’s because we’re focused on ourselves and not the one who needs to be heard.
As always, thank you for your insights and honesty. Keep knocking on those hard doors and taking us in with you. I am continually and repeatedly grateful. 🤗
Being on a journey you never wanted to go on is so hard. Especially when one has no choice. But you’ll get to where you’re supposed to be, eventually. In the meantime, keep writing…
Thank you for writing this, Cindy. It’s unbelievably empathetic of you and Annie to recognize that the clumsiness or vacancy of friends is due to fear. I never know what to say because it’s all so awful, but I appreciate you holding space for those of us who are trying. It’s another example of your incredible spirit and generous kindness. Xo
I hate when life forces us to learn to be comfortable with our discomfort because we have no other choice. God knows that's never my free choice. I would choose puppies, ribbons, and and rainbows. A line that really sets my teeth--both my natural and permanently bridged ones--on edge is when someone tells me tooo quickly that my loved one will always be with me. It's not the sentiment itself because I subscribe to that belief as well, but it's the timing and the way it's casually tossed off--as if to dismiss your legitimate pain as nothing. I know it's because they are so uncomfortable with the situation, but better to just squeeze my hand or offer a sincere "I'm so sorry you're facing this." When I have a bad day of really missing those I've lost, I have an acquaintance who barely lets me finish the sentence before she pontificates her superior way of dealing with any loss. "They are always with us, no need to mourn, move on." Um, yeah, they are always with us...but they can't meet us for lunch, can they? Because that's what I want--to meet them for lunch again. To watch a movie together. To share a laugh. As always, your writing is superb, your transparency is brave, and sending so much love to you!!!
Thank you, Lee. I've also been told to "move on." Like I was purposely ignoring some universal grief timer that had already gone off and now I'm just dilly-dallying. I want another sleepover so we can watch our shows and eat snacks. I'm not moving on from that, right? Sending xo to you.
You're so right about the discomfort one feels in these situations - extending a virtual hug to you.
Cindy—This is wonderful and sure to be helpful both for those who are uncomfortable and don’t know what to say, and those who are on the other side of needing the presence of caring people.
In my work, I’ve often thought about these things and realized there’s nothing perfect I can say, so I allow my heart, presence, and ears to lead the way. I plan to write about the uselessness of platitudes, which I’m sure are designed to give comfort only to the person who says them. My work has also taught me that when we feel uncomfortable in the presence of another person’s pain, it’s because we’re focused on ourselves and not the one who needs to be heard.
Please keep sharing. I’m listening.
Sending love.
Thank you, Ginni. I appreciate your insight.
As always, thank you for your insights and honesty. Keep knocking on those hard doors and taking us in with you. I am continually and repeatedly grateful. 🤗
I’m right here with you.
I know you are ♥️
Thank you, Gabi. I know you know a little bit about this journey. ♥️
Being on a journey you never wanted to go on is so hard. Especially when one has no choice. But you’ll get to where you’re supposed to be, eventually. In the meantime, keep writing…
Thank you for writing this, Cindy. It’s unbelievably empathetic of you and Annie to recognize that the clumsiness or vacancy of friends is due to fear. I never know what to say because it’s all so awful, but I appreciate you holding space for those of us who are trying. It’s another example of your incredible spirit and generous kindness. Xo
Thank you Chloe. You're always so thoughtful and I appreciate that you responded to this ♥️
I hate when life forces us to learn to be comfortable with our discomfort because we have no other choice. God knows that's never my free choice. I would choose puppies, ribbons, and and rainbows. A line that really sets my teeth--both my natural and permanently bridged ones--on edge is when someone tells me tooo quickly that my loved one will always be with me. It's not the sentiment itself because I subscribe to that belief as well, but it's the timing and the way it's casually tossed off--as if to dismiss your legitimate pain as nothing. I know it's because they are so uncomfortable with the situation, but better to just squeeze my hand or offer a sincere "I'm so sorry you're facing this." When I have a bad day of really missing those I've lost, I have an acquaintance who barely lets me finish the sentence before she pontificates her superior way of dealing with any loss. "They are always with us, no need to mourn, move on." Um, yeah, they are always with us...but they can't meet us for lunch, can they? Because that's what I want--to meet them for lunch again. To watch a movie together. To share a laugh. As always, your writing is superb, your transparency is brave, and sending so much love to you!!!
Thank you, Lee. I've also been told to "move on." Like I was purposely ignoring some universal grief timer that had already gone off and now I'm just dilly-dallying. I want another sleepover so we can watch our shows and eat snacks. I'm not moving on from that, right? Sending xo to you.