Later life Talkback - 35

Such a comfort!

The shrink on the ‘phone had this nice consoling voice. “I know you are feeling lonely, Michael”, he said. “Loneliness feels like failure. It even makes you think it is all your fault…” and so on and so forth. Our hero natch, is not consoled. On the contrary, the words are extra fuel for the suicide he is contemplating.

The above anecdote comes from a theatre performance I saw the other day. It was intended as irony, and the audience laughed, me included.   

It also set me thinking about sympathy and empathy and the fine line between offering comfort and overdoing it.

If you get too sympathetic, you can easily begin to sound creepy, not to say patronising. “You must be feeling terrible. I am so sorry for you. What a tragedy” can have a ring of faking it, even if you’re not. Leave it at  “I am so sorry” if you can’t think of anything else. 

On the other hand, something stiff and impersonal (usually due to embarrassment) - ie “I am sending condolences to you and your family on the death of your spouse” - won’t do either. 

And it can get even worse. One friend told me, “My husband’s  colleagues ignored me after he died”. The colleagues in question were psychoanalysts working in a major therapy centre, embarrassed into an awkward and unsympathetic silence. If they couldn’t get it right, what hope is there for the rest of us?

So how do you get it right? Having consulted a few friends on their experiences, good and bad, I have drawn up a few rules:

• Silence is not golden, and even very brief letters (I know from the death of my parents) can be a real comfort, including from people who didn’t know them.  

• A brief note, with some warm message such as “I was so sorry to hear about the death of … and am thinking of you at what must be a difficult time”  is fine.

• Better still, provide a brief memory of the person, if you knew them, or a reminder of something the bereaved once said of them.  “I remember when…”  Or “I only met him once, but I remember thinking what a good/kind/generous/fun(whatever) person he seemed”. Only if it’s true, of course.

• Don’t get sentimental, going on about how wonderful the person was, especially if you know those concerned didn’t get on.  “I know your relationship wasn’t always easy, but you still miss them when they’ve gone…” is more realistic.

• If you sense that the bereaved person is angry or sounds uncaring, be aware that these reactions are part of the grieving process. You don’t have to bring direct attention to them, but it may be reassuring to say that feeling angry is very common. You can provide comfort by saying (truthfully) that you remember how angry you felt in similar circumstances, or how numb, without going into great detail. No need to burden the other person with your own emotions.

• You can add something from your own experience, but again don’t overdo it. “I remember when my cousin died how we laughed at silly things. It was a kind of relief”. That could be enough to help the other person realise that such reactions are normal.

• Never say “you’ll get over it”.

Do you have any ideas to add to the above?   If so, send them to me:   helen@laterlife.com

* Have a look at this month`s edition of Relationships for more personal experiences of bereavement