Gotcha!
There is no right way. There are never a set of prescribed fail safe words. You could say something beautiful and end up causing someone to burst into tears, or you could say something quite blunt and honest and create a deep and impactful realisation.
I've recently been hearing news of friends losing loved ones. And like everyone else, I sit staring at the phone wondering what to say.
It's easy to type a typical response, and with some thought I could carve out a wonderful eulogy. But to what effect? Am I trying to prove how well I can wish them well, or do I actually feel their pain and offer my love and presence instead? And if I can't be there physically, in spirit at the very least.
Having been on the receiving end, you would think I could relate and say something amazing. But the truth is ...
Having been through it, I know there's nothing you can say that will truly make a difference. At least not in the first week or so. For me, perhaps a year. That is not to say that you should say nothing - that is worse!
Of all the soothing words family and friends left me, there is only one piece of advice that I either heard or read that made an impact.
"The first year is the hardest"
365 days from the day you lose your loved one, you will have your first every things, without them. Christmas, New Year, Festivals, Anniversaries and their birthday. Some may gorge deeper holes than others, but the effects nonetheless, are felt.
In the very first week of losing my Dad unexpectedly, I sometimes woke up and forgot that he wasn't around anymore. It was so painful to be reminded that I couldn't call him, or go sit with him and chat with him. Well I could, but you know what I mean.
A few years on, 5 years and 5 months later to be exact (but who's counting) I still become very sad thinking about him. I no longer miss the birthdays, festivals and anniversary wishes, but there are moments that sneak in unexpectedly - that catches you by surprise and knocks your breath out for a few seconds. As for my mother, it is still hard for her on their anniversary - having been married for that long, it is only natural.
I know I will miss him for years to come, especially on those milestone moments in our lives - weddings, childbirth achieving that one thing they know means the world to you.
The greatest lesson through it all is realising that is going to be okay. The pain, I learnt does not kill. You will survive to live a day without them. Although I did shut parts of my heart off to lessen the pain, as it turns out life finds ways to break down those walls too.
We will always feel sad and bleed a little inside. It is the human condition in us. But to realise we have MORE LOVE to share, give and expand; that is the divine in us showing just how much more there is to our hearts than the pain of heartbreak.
There is a life that needs to be lived to the fullest, in living and giving our all - it is our duty to "LIVE IT, and LIVE IT WELL". That last phrase is something that truly had me arrested in my seat long after the credits rolled from the movie Me Before You. It was the ending scene too. No truer words were spoken in cinematic history.
I did lure you in here on the pretext of giving cheap advice, so let me not let you down completely. Here are a few easy tips you probably already know ...
What you can say doesn't quite matter as much as perhaps showing up. Calling. Checking up. Helping them with physical chores. But, if you are not that close, but know them in passing, another thing that truly brought comfort from all those who came by were their stories and encounters with him.
My father was unhealthily obsessed with helping people. Yes, unhealthy. No sane person gives up an entire month's salary to help a friend out overseas, when his own family wasn't exactly all that well off. He once gave our family car to someone in need. No he wasn't a saint, but he did have a big giving heart - and I am grateful for having learnt generosity from BOTH my parents.
To hear stories from people who met him was so comforting. It was like having a piece of him alive with us again. A new memory in a way. So, if you do happen to know the person who passed on, do take the time to think of a memory with the person (obviously something positive - even mischief is fine but do use some discretion here).
Heartfelt wishes and saying hello does help. A word, a hello or your heartfelt condolences from everywhere is overwhelming yes, but the outpouring of wishes does have an impact on the psyche that lets us know we are not alone. Another thing that made a difference for me was when friends would randomly call me a month or a few months later and call me out for a coffee, or even just chat on the phone. I didn't know how to reach out, in fact I never wanted to. I don't know anyone who reaches out when they are sad. We seem better equipped at remaining silent with our woes. So dropping a note, taking time to make a call, or taking them out for coffee helps reconnect with the world and the love and support that exists in it.
And finally, the simplest act of showering love from your heart silently helps. It may seem insignificant, but never underestimate the power of prayer.