A couple of weeks ago, a sweet elderly lady in our ward unexpectedly lost her husband. Patrick stayed home with the kids, and I attended the viewing. As I walked up to this sweet sister, without thinking, the first words out of my mouth were, “How are you doing?” Seriously? I wanted to kick myself. I was mortified. I seriously asked her, “How are you doing?” It just slipped out of my mouth before I realized I was saying it. Just following Preslee’s death, I dreaded running into people I knew, because it seemed like the first thing they always asked was, “How are you doing?” It felt wrong faking a smile, and saying, “Good,” when I really wanted to scream, “Horrible! My daughter died. I’m lost, depressed, and not functioning. I’m not doing well.” But I didn’t think that was appropriate answer while standing in the middle of the grocery store. So of course I was embarrassed when I heard myself ask the same question I tried avoiding for so long. When I got home, I discussed how the viewing went with Pat, which led to a conversation about what we appreciated and what we disliked hearing during Preslee’s viewing.
Note: This isn’t being written to hurt anyone’s feelings. We appreciated every single person who attended Preslee’s viewing. Before losing Preslee I had no idea what to say to someone at a viewing, and clearly, from my experience up above still don’t have it perfected. But this is a common question Pat and I both constantly receive, so I thought I’d share what we’ve learned.
What to Say (and Not Say) to Someone at a Viewing
Don’t be embarrassed if you cry.
It really is okay to cry. I was surprised when the entire night wasn’t a tear fest. Yes, I still cried, but I remember multiple people telling Pat and I that we looked different, we looked so strong. I remember thinking, “Really? My daughter just died.” But looking back, I strongly believe it was due to the prayers beings said in our behalf. We were being buoyed up. People were constantly apologizing for their tears, but we understood. Don’t feel embarrassed if you cry and they don’t.
Make sure you know the facts before speaking.
Sometimes it isn’t common knowledge about how the person passed away. If this is the case, please don’t assume anything. When some people spoke to us, it was clear they didn’t know anything other than Preslee had drowned, and assumed different things. It created awkward moments, and we didn’t want to embarrass them. If we kindly corrected them, it usually led to questions, which made it difficult to keep the line moving, and also leads to my next suggestion.
Don’t bombard the person with questions.It was difficult speaking with people who bombarded us with questions. Their questions usually referred to how Preslee had drowned, but at that time, Pat and I still didn’t know all the facts. Russell Friedman of The Grief Recovery Institute explains, “After that initial numbness wears off, the most common physiological reaction is a reduced ability to concentrate.” Therefore, being asked a lot of questions was not only difficult to respond to, it also just wasn’t the right time to be put on the spot.
Don’t be offended if they forget your name. I recently heard someone upset that their name was forgotten at a viewing. Please don’t take it personally. Pat and I were surprised how many people showed their support by attending the viewing. The night before the funeral, the line lasted for nearly four hours. By the end of the night, we weren’t thinking straight and were emotionally and physically drained. Sometimes a person’s name slipped from our minds.
Every situation is different.
Because every situation is different, it really is hard to know what to say. But one reoccurring comment we received throughout the viewing was, “You are way too young to have to experience this!” It was true, I was 22, Pat 25, and less than three years earlier the same people who were walking through Preslee’s viewing line, had attended our wedding reception. But after hearing this comment over and over again, by the end of the night we didn’t know how to respond, and surprisingly it started to bother us. I remember thinking, “What does it matter our age? It still happened didn’t it? Clearly I’m not too young to experience this.” In the end it made me a little more bitter because if everyone thought I was too young, why did it happen?
Don’t tell them you know how they feel.
I think it’s a natural human reaction to want to sympathize and relate to another person during a conversation. I remember a man telling us he understood what we were going through because he had lost his Grandma. That statement really bothered me, I remember thinking, “But losing a Grandma isn’t losing a child. Your grandma didn’t live with you, you didn’t give birth to her, I love my Grandma differently than my child. it just isn’t the same.” We’ve heard it all, people telling us they understand because they’ve lost a grandparent, cousin, neighbor, or their dog… and please just know that sending an LDS missionary out for two years isn’t the same as losing a child.
What We Appreciated:
I remember becoming emotional when seeing family, close friends, people I hadn’t been extremely close to in high school, and I saw what it meant to Pat when people from his childhood ward came to show their support. It showed us we weren’t alone and we really had a huge support group rallying behind us. When in doubt about attending the viewing, go. Your presence won’t go unnoticed.
Compliments go a long way.
At the viewing, I was first in line. I stood in-between Preslee’s casket, and Patrick. When people complimented anything about Preslee, my heart swelled with pride. Though she had passed away, she was still my little girl, who I still fiercely loved. I appreciated compliments about her hair, her dress, how good she looked, or even her casket. Looking back it made our conversation positive rather than doom and gloom.
Those that acknowledged they didn’t know our pain.
Pat said the comment that meant the most to him was, “Though I don’t understand what you are feeling, please know we’re here for you.” After losing Preslee we learned it’s impossible to understand grief until you’ve experienced it for yourself. Their acknowledgment went a long way in our book.
What I tend to say:
Obviously each viewing is different, so my personal comments change, but in summary, I tend to say something similar to this. I usually begin with a compliment, such as letting them know how great the pictures turned out, how nice the casket is, or even how great the person who has passed away looks. Then I usually say something similar to, “I know there isn’t really anything that I can say to lessen your pain, we want you to know how much we’ve been thinking about you. You’ve been in our prayers. If there is anything you ever need, please don’t hesitate to ask. We’ve learned this trial is too difficult to take on by yourself. Just know we love you and think about you all the time.”
Have you experienced a viewing for yourself? What comments did you find most helpful or hurtful?
My mother died very suddenly when I was 15 and its been 11 years since this happened and even though it was hard, I still remember so many things that were said and done both hurtful and helpful. I'll start with helpful.
ReplyDelete1. Even though this isn't a comment, the most helpful to me was seeing all the people who came. Seriously, there were people we went to church with who I hadn't seen in 5+ years. There were my elementary school teachers (my mom was always a "Room Mom") who came, friends I had grown up with but lost touch with and even some family who lived in different states who came. Just taking the time to come and give hugs and talk about the good times, I will never forget. 2. Hugs. My love language is physical touch. I love to give hugs, receive hugs. Hugging helped me a lot. 3. Like you, people telling me how strong I looked. It made me feel so good knowing I was strong and could get through this, even at 15. 4. People reminding me that I will see her again. I know its kind of a cliche but it really helps knowing I WILL see my mother again someday. Until then, I have home movies and photos.
I think some of the most hurtful things that were said were "I know how you feel, my grandma/grandpa/pet died too." Like you said, no. It's different, please don't tell me otherwise. I also got a lot of "I don't understand why you aren't crying." or "You don't seem very upset." "Are you depressed?" "Are you going to stop singing in the church choir/play sports/be a teenager to take care of your brother?" Too many questions about my future, please just let us bury her before I make decisions about my future. I did get a lot of "It's a shame she won't be there for all your big events in your life." Well, I have graduated high school, college and got married. She was there for it all! :)
Love your insight. Thank you for sharing! I liked number four, sometimes it seems so far away.
DeleteThanks for posting this! It is so hard to know what to say, I'm a little awkward with words anyways! I like what you said at the end! It's perfect! You are great Ashley, I love following you on instagram and on here! You seem to make everything a little brighter! :)
ReplyDelete-Karly
This is so helpful! Thank you for sharing your insight that some of us haven't had to gain for ourselves because when such things happen out hearts hurt horribly and we struggle so much for the right words. You are amazing.
ReplyDeleteAshley,
ReplyDeleteI lost my brother almost 11 years ago. One thing I remember that hurt my family the most was hearing, "He's in better place now." We just didn't want to hear that. My mom said that she wished people would stop saying that because even though she knows he is safe and ok where he is now, it still hurts to hear because we still want him here with us. So grateful to know Families are Forever! Thanks for all you do with your blog it really helps!
Interesting you say that. I left that one off... I thought I was probably being too sensitive. But I found that it did hurt a little, but it made me feel like I was an inferior mother. Everyone else got to keep their kids, but "mine" was now in a better place.
DeleteAshley, I think you should add that one on there. I hope I've never said it, but I can see why people would think that would be helpful when it really isn't. I don't think your response to that is being too sensitive at all. It would be a good one for others to be aware of too.
DeleteThis is an awesome post Ashley! I'm sure I've been the person saying the wrong thing and I'm glad to know what I can do better next time. So glad you took the time to share this advice!
ReplyDeleteI lost my son at 46 hours old. What I could not.. and 20 years later still can not stand is when people say "At least you lost him before you bonded" or similar comments to that. I bonded with him the moment I discovered I was carrying him. I would of treasured just one more second with him. And the worse is "You are young, you can have more children". Sadly I was never able to conceive again so that is a comment that really stuck with me. I want to think you for sharing you life so openly with the world. Even though our loses are very different.. It has helped me with my grief.
ReplyDeleteAnd on a happier note.. Even though I was not able to have another baby myself.. I am blessed to have adopted my husbands the 3 year old son who is 9 now and three more as new borns. (they are now 5,3 and 6 months)
I lost my daughter after a car accident at 37 weeks pregnant almost 7 months ago. I am experiencing those type comments as well. "You can try again in a few months" and "she just wasn't meant to be" and "oh at least it happened now instead of in 5 or 10 years" are the ones I hear most often. I know the people mean well, but oh it stings straight to the core. Even if I am blessed to have more children later on in life…I still lost this child. I will always grieve this child.
DeleteOne of the most helpful things to me, as you mentioned Ashley, is (and was) simply people's presence- physical and emotional. The hugs were great, sharing tears with friends was very spiritually healing, and the cards, texts, calls from people just letting me know they were thinking about us. I loved people commenting on how beautiful and special my daughter was.
Another thing has been when people acknowledge that I am still a mom, her mom. I think a lot of parents who lose a child at young ages worry about their child being forgotten. So nothing makes my heart swell as when people say my daughter's name or tell me they were thinking about her. One of my friends even asked if it would be ok if she hung a picture of my daughter at her house. That one still brings me almost to my knees. I know these don't really relate to a viewing, but I wanted to share anyway :) This is a great post and I think it will be very helpful!
Love your post! It's so hard to know what to say, my typical response is crying and saying sorry.
ReplyDeleteAnd while I have not experienced the type of grief you have gone through, I have to say that it always bothers me when someone tells a family member of the deceased that "God must have needed them more on the other side". When my 47 year old uncle passed away of brain cancer with 7 kids who were mostly still at home, I thought "Really? You really think God did not have enough help in heaven, so he took the father of these children at some of the most influential times of their lives?" It's not that I don't believe in the Plan of Salvation, but telling someone that their loved one was needed more on the other side REALLY drives me crazy.
I don't know you, but I found your blog a couple of months before your article came out in the Ensign. I wanted to tell you that I think you are amazing! Your family's story is heart-wrenching, and yet you have so much poise and kindness when sharing about it.
ReplyDeleteI am a mother and truly cannot imagine losing one of them. What struck me was your previous reply that says, "Everyone else got to keep their kids, but 'mine' was now in a better place". I have never thought of it in that way before, but I can absolutely see how that would feel hurtful. That makes perfect sense. Thank you for sharing these tips. I agree that until you have experienced that specific kind of grief, you have no idea how it feels or how words can sound or feel. I think most people just want to be loving and kind, so your patients in teaching us how to do that is really helpful and un-selfish.
Your children are blessed to have such a wonderful mother!
Sometimes words are not needed....like Stephanie said, hugs for me felt so warm and helpful when my husband passed away. No matter who we've lost, we will never ever know how you feel because only you and Pat lost your precious daughter. She was your daughter and no one else's. Same with me....I know how many people love and miss my husband but he was only MY husband and no one else's. Of course, we have empathy and we know it must be so so hard but even someone who has lost someone can't feel the same as the person who suffered the loss. I was a basket case at my husband's funeral but I too felt the prayers and the strength from others, especially my parents, who unbeknownst to me would both be gone 7 months after my husband. Oh and my memory?? Oh gosh, I couldn't remember the name of the guy who was the best man at our wedding. I was so embarrassed. It is strange too that there are some people who came to the viewing and funeral that I recall with such clarity and was so happy they came. A lot of friends and family said "I don't know what to say but I'm so sorry." I would often say, "you just said the perfect thing". I didn't know what to say either....what do you say to someone who is in uncontrollable tears and can't find the words to tell you how sad they are that you lost this wonderful person in your life? I got asked the most awful and weird questions later on but I think that is because some people honestly don't know what to say. I love this post and it will be very helpful to others who unfortunately may have to go through something similar. For me, life in general is bittersweet....let me explain. I want to be with my husband but then I want to stay here until I'm 95 so I can see my little grandson grow up. It is a real dichotomy....wanting to be there but wanting to stay here. I finally figured out that I need to really live it up, experience a lot of things because I'm experiencing it for the both of us, spoil my kids - especially my grandson, and then when I do see my husband again, we will have so many many things to talk about. I love your wisdom Ashley. You post these hard subjects with love and compassion in mind. You've lived through such a terrible loss but you came throught it with grace, empathy, love, and compassion and you have grown in ways you probably never thought you would. Plus you never waivered in your love for the Savior and your Heavenly Father. I'm sure your faith was tested beyond what anyone can even remotely imagine but you stayed strong in your beliefs. I'm with Amanda....Families ARE forever. I know for assurety that the Plan of Salvation is real. Sisterly (or maybe grandmotherly) love and hugs from afar!!
ReplyDeleteThank you Ashley. I love reading your blog and am surprised at how often I think of you and your family. The only viewings I have ever really experienced were for distant friends and great grandparents, so I know it could and will be different someday.
ReplyDeleteI loved everything about this post!! My grandma passed away a little over 7 months ago. She was like a mom to me & the sting is still there. 1 thing I began to resent hearing was "... She's in a better place..." I know that to be true & I know I will see her again some day, but hearing it didn't feel good for me. Even though she is no longer hurting here & probaby in a better place, we still miss her here w/ us physically..
ReplyDeleteGood grief, I'm sitting at Carl's Jr letting my kids play.. w/ tears streaming down my cheeks just typing this!
Still sending my love, thoughts, & prayers to you & your beautiful family!
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ReplyDeleteThe one I don't like is "I don't know how you do it, I could not live without my child". Ok, I must be an inferior mother because I continue to live.
ReplyDeleteThanks so much for sharing. I agree with everything you said. I especially love when you said, "When in doubt about attending the viewing, go." Thirteen years and three years after my brothers' passing, I can remember who came and who didn't. We received such wonderful support from so many that it made me become more aware of supporting others in their times of need.
ReplyDeleteTwo of my sweet brothers took their own lives after battling depression. To this day I have very bitter feelings toward an old lady that kept hugging my angelic mother, repeating over and over, "He's lost. He's lost." I am normally a very laid back and quiet person, but I just wanted to punch her and shout, "What is wrong with you?!"
I, too, am very conscious not to ask, "How are you doing?" because how do you even begin to answer that? When asked that, I would just reply, "I'm here." In offering my support to others, I try to say, "I am so very sorry for your loss. You are in my prayers." Also, instead of saying, "I'm here if you need anything," I try to think of a way to serve that person and just do it.
Thanks again for this post. I will definitely be sharing it.
Thanks so much for sharing. I agree with everything you said. I especially love when you said, "When in doubt about attending the viewing, go." Thirteen years and three years after my brothers' passing, I can remember who came and who didn't. We received such wonderful support from so many that it made me become more aware of supporting others in their times of need.
ReplyDeleteTwo of my sweet brothers took their own lives after battling depression. To this day I have very bitter feelings toward an old lady that kept hugging my angelic mother, repeating over and over, "He's lost. He's lost." I am normally a very laid back and quiet person, but I just wanted to punch her and shout, "What is wrong with you?!"
I, too, am very conscious not to ask, "How are you doing?" because how do you even begin to answer that? When asked that, I would just reply, "I'm here." In offering my support to others, I try to say, "I am so very sorry for your loss. You are in my prayers." Also, instead of saying, "I'm here if you need anything," I try to think of a way to serve that person and just do it.
Thanks again for this post. I will definitely be sharing it.
At my Mom's viewing I had someone tell me she looked terrible....she went on to say, because it's not her and she isn't talking....and that she expected her to sit up and talk. I'm sure the person did not mean it as it sounded, but it sounded awful. I also had someone stop me in the hall at church and ask if this had been hard--I wanted to say "do you just want me to break down crying right here? Or what is your intention?" Again, the person did not mean it the way it came across. I was also asked "how is your love life?" Well, non-existent at the moment. That one we do laugh about.....and wonder what made the person ask that question as such a moment. I enjoy reading your thoughts and wisdom!
ReplyDeleteWe don't really do viewings in Scotland but lots of these thing applied to my son's funeral. He died suddenly at the age of five in December 2011. We were told we were so strong and people tried to make small talk in the line up. What touched me more than anything else were the friends from school who I hadn't seen for years and especially the big emotional stunted Scotsmen who were literally sobbing as they touched the little willow casket.
ReplyDelete
ReplyDeleteI just lost my mom suddenly a few months ago. I think I finally figured out why the family doesn't cry at the viewings. I had been living the tragedy since it happened and as I would experience the "firsts" of everything I cried and my emotions overtook me. As the "firsts" happened I was crying, (seeing the body for the first time, preparing the body, seeing the body in the casket, seeing the casket in the room, and preparing for the viewing, etc.) I was able to show those "normal" emotions people expected, they were just not present to see. As the viewing begins all the people are just stepping into the tragedy for the first time, their emotions are being experienced for the first time and that is why they are breaking down and I was not throughout the duration of the viewing. My dad was a great example to individually talk to people and explain what happened and spend time with each person that came. This made the line long, but I think it helped in everyone's curiosity and grieving process as they stepped into the tragedy we were all living.
In what to say, most people do ask, "How are you doing?" and sadly that is the one question we are really unable to answer. I found the most thoughtful comments were, "She looks beautiful." "She was a great woman" "I love you" "My thoughts and prayers are with you" "I have been thinking about you a lot lately and I want you to know I am here for you." As the weeks and months passed I learned that the same old question of "how are you?" would make me cringe, so I would educate a few to say, "it's good to see you!" instead. I felt “It’s good to see you!” was a nice comment that required no response and no digging at my emotions, but made me feel good. It is good to see those that are grieving, we want to help them and love them and see them, and we need to give hugs and smiles and just be “there” for them, this usually doesn’t require a lot of questions. The same comments help, “I love you” “I have been thinking about you” “I sure miss your mom” “It’s good to see you” “I have been praying for you and your family” etc.
I find that everyone "grieves" so very differently, but there is not a better way or a wrong or right way to do so. That is the hardest part when someone tells you how you should be grieving. I think we need to be sensitive to those who are going through loss as it is a life sentence. That loss will remain in their lives until they leave this earth. They will always be missing their loved ones, always be at a loss, and always thinking about them every day. They are never going to “get over” their loss, so we shouldn’t expect them to.
I found that certain people were able to meet my emotional needs, and others were not. I sort of felt like I was picking people to be on my “team” on the playground who were able to help me in just the right ways. I would think to myself when someone would give me a negative comment or make a strange remark, “Well, they are not on my team.” and then I would move on without feeling sad or upset about what they said. (some were even close family members) I chose to also let those who were on my “team” know that I appreciated them and that if they ever felt prompted to check on me or call that it was ok. I think we wait to hear from the griever when we want to help them, but sometimes we need to act when we are just thinking about them.
When we experience loss in our lives we feel differently, we feel a hole in our souls, it can over time be stitched together but it never will be the same. We will all experience death and loss at some point in our lives, no one is exempt. As we help and love each other we can experience greater and more meaningful relationships in our lives. It’s better to love than judge as we really can never understand what one individual is going through to the next.
I had more than one person say "at least he died so young, before you had a chance to really get attached." Are you kidding me?! That wasn't helpful. Then I had a few say " I'm so sorry, this just totally sucks." That actually did help some because it certainly did suck
ReplyDeleteAshley, Thank you so much for sharing this! I shared it on our non-profits Facebook page. Great advice. I don't think people realize how exhausting the viewing/ funeral really is. Our 9 month old, Ellie, died suddenly from a bacterial bloodstream infection. We were in the hospital for less than a day. That alone is exhausting. I understand that everyone wants a chance to comfort the grieving, but a several hour is receiving line is extremely hard after such a loss! About a year after we lost Ellie, I was at my husband's Christmas party and introduced myself to one of his co-workers wife. Several people looked at me funny and then my husband said I'd met her before at Ellie's funeral. I had no recollection whatsoever of meeting her.
ReplyDeleteI've never commented on your blog before- I was attending BYU-I when I heard about your little girl. Your blog is inspirational, I love keeping up with it. Anyways, I lost my dad a week before my high school graduation to a drowning (he had a seizure in our hot tub while alone). I agree that seeing others cry was a comfort to me. My dad was a scout leader for years, and to see those boys cry over his casket made me see others were hurting and were touched by his life.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your example of faith and for keeping this blog going. :)
That was a very eye opening and informative post. I have learned after being to many many funerals in my 56 yrs, for old people (my husbands grandmother 105) to children as young as my cousins son at 20 months to say very little,except "I am so very sorry". I remember like it was yesterday 28 yrs ago when my friend (next door neighbors) 18 yr old son died in a tragic jeep accident 4 days before high school graduation. The people came thru the line with so many questions to her and her husband, not even realizing that you were re living this event and that she was so upset she could not even stand up. Thank you for this and Bless you all, Dina Tallahassee, Florida
ReplyDeleteMy parents lost a child and I was sharing this post with her and she wanted me to add her 2 cents. She has 8 children and several people said to her, "well at least you have 7 other children!" No one replaces the child, spouse, parent etc. that passes from us. I love your blog. Thank you for sharing!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for sharing this! I appreciate it!
ReplyDeletehttp://www.gofundme.com/flyhighaidenjace
ReplyDeleteDearest Ashley- I have followed your blog for several years after stumbling upon it while I was trying to find comfort after my 7 month old passed away. I don't usually post , just read. Thank you for the wisdom and faith you share with others. Just recently in a small town in ohio a 2 year old passed away. I just wanted to share, his funeral is today. My heart aches to see another baby gone too soon.
I came back to re-read this post tonight because, unfortunately, I'm going to be attending the funeral of my childhood friend's son. He was only 5 years old and I want to show him my support but I also don't want to say something stupid. Thanks so much for all of your wonderful insights.
ReplyDeleteI've had a front row seat to the do not list when my teenage brother passed away from cancer.
ReplyDeleteDo not do: say things like "at least you knew he was going to die." Or "give me a call if you need something." I did not have the emotional energy to organize would-be-helpers and try to figure out how people could help. If someone wants to be helpful be specific on what kind of help you're willing to give, if you're not really wanting to help out, don't offer. The worst thing you can do if give an overwhelmed person the chore of figuring out how you can help.
Do: give hugs and say "I'm sorry." Write a heartfelt note. Show up at the funeral. Say things like "I want to bring you a meal, would Tuesday be okay." Realize that you can't make everything all better, but that the smallest kindness will be remembered forever and so will the smallest unkind or thoughtless comment (which is why its better to just say "I'm sorry" than a whole awkward speech where you put your foot in your mouth over and over).