I talk a lot about showing up for grievers. It’s something I’ve been hammering home for months. How good of a job am I doing? Not as well as I’d like to.
What exactly IS showing up? It’s not necessarily having a physical presence. That’s important too, but life happens and we’re not always able to be with the griever. Maybe you don’t live near them. Maybe work is too demanding, or you have small children that keep you tied down. If you’re a caregiver a lot of times, there’s no way you’re getting out.
We do what we can given our life circumstances, but is that enough? It depends on the person really. I’m the kind of person where a phone call or text message is perfectly sufficient. That means a lot to me. Reaching out is what matters. Others are different. Some people want to see your face at every turn, or they think you don’t care.
I feel guilt when I am unable to attend a funeral. That’s what prompted this entry today. As I’m writing this, I’m missing another funeral. Our toddler is loud and he’s a runner. Keeping him calm during a Sunday service is a chore, one that I’m not successful at very often. I have walked the halls many times or find myself watching church service streaming in the van. For this reason, I don’t take my littles to funerals. I would feel much worse if my child was obnoxious during an event like this than I would for not being there. A person only has one funeral. There are no do-overs.
Then there’s the aftermath. After a certain amount of time passes, we become unsure if we should bring up a person’s lost loved one. If someone is appearing to cope well, we worry that asking any specific questions could upset them. Maybe they’re managing by NOT addressing their grief and their life is a house of cards. Inside they may be longing for someone to ask. Maybe they fear their loved one has been forgotten. Maybe they feel that no one cares. The struggle is real.
Here’s what I say. Ask. They didn’t forget their person died. They’re aware. They’re dealing with it every day. It’s a journey not an event. If you topple the house of cards, so be it. The house will fall either way at some point, at least they know you care. Say their loved one’s name. When the world is ignoring their pain, be the one that shows up. Isolation is real and its awful.
May this entry be a PSA that if I don’t show up to your loved one’s funeral it's not because I don’t care. It’s because I have a maniac child, no babysitter, and I don’t want to ruin the whole thing. I will check in. I will send you a plant. Need to talk? Call or message me anytime. I’ll answer day or night. 3 am? That’s fine by me. If I topple your house of cards, I’m sorry. I’m toppling it because I love you.
