The news from Texas over the weekend is just heartbreaking. So many children are among the dead. As a bereaved mom myself, I am gutted for their families and the dark days that lie ahead.
I am heartbroken for the first responders who, while trained, yes, are seeing things they will live with for the rest of their lives, and for entire communities that are mourning.
And, I am saddened and sickened, really, that this tragedy is being politicized, by both sides of the political spectrum. Just stop it. Now is not the time nor the place to do anything other than help people who are barely surviving emotionally.
I believe we are called as fellow human beings to mourn with those who mourn. From personal experience, being told I am strong and resilient is .... not that helpful at the moment. Grief is a beast that makes even the strongest people not want to live one more day. The pain is that unbearable.
Grief will turn your days gray and make dark nights darker. Even simple things — like deciding what to have for dinner — become long-drawn-out problems that have no easy solution.
As confusing and painful as it is to move through grief, it can also be confusing and difficult trying to figure out how to best help someone who is grieving. So what can we do to mourn with those who mourn?
First, just expressing your condolences can be comforting. No one knows the “right” thing to say because there is no right thing. Saying “I’m sorry” seems to get the closest. Don’t be afraid to cry with people who are mourning, either. The gift of others’ tears was and is healing for me.
I found that when someone said to me, “Just let me know what I can do to help!,” that was a surefire guarantee that I would not ask them for help. For one thing, brain fog from grief pretty much made it so I couldn’t think of a single thing anyone could do. But when people showed up at my house to mop my floor, or take my laundry and return it clean and folded, I was immensely grateful.
Bringing food seems almost standard when someone is grieving, and yet it is so welcome. Frozen food and easy-to-make meals for later are also great for that time after the funeral when (almost) everyone else goes back to their normal lives. Which brings me to my next point — keep checking in on those who are grieving because moving through grief isn’t quick.
There is no timeline for moving through grief. But for me, it has always seemed to last so much longer than I hoped it would. After our daughter, Angelia, died, I cried every day for two years. When our legally adopted daughters were trapped in Africa by politics, I could barely dress myself for nine months and burst into tears whenever someone asked me how I was doing. In all cases, I have wished the process was faster.
Think of practical things you could do: take kids back-to-school shopping, mow the lawn, show up to go walking with them every day, listen, plan a day trip to the mountains and take them.
Help memorialize their loved one. When my daughter, Elizabeth, died in 2005, several of my friends picked up my family photographs — each making a two-page spread and together creating a lovely book for me at a time when I could not have done it myself. Twenty years later, I still love looking at that book.
There are ways to help people in Texas right now. I know some will hop in a car and drive down to help in person. Others of you will donate money to local agencies. (Please do your due diligence. Sadly, scammers love a tragedy.)
Let me also point out that there are people who are hurting right in our own neighborhoods. Grief hits us all at some point and death is not the only reason. I am pretty sure that you, like me, have friends, family members, neighbors, work colleagues and even acquaintances going through some hard stuff. Be there for them.
A couple words of caution: if you are going to say something that starts with the words “At least,” please don’t. And please avoid the temptation to find positive meaning out of their loss. If there are positive lessons to be learned from tragedy, those suffering will need the room to find them on their own. I personally don’t believe we must find joy in the excruciating.
Second, as I mentioned earlier, wanting to die rather than experience the pain of grief is not uncommon. However, sometimes that can lead to action, including self-harm and even suicide. Please don’t be afraid to ask point blank if those who are suffering are thinking of harming themselves and don’t hesitate to contact emergency services if needed. They can also call 988 to talk with someone at any time.
In a world of sorrow, we can each be someone’s balm to a broken heart and someone can be a balm to ours. As fellow travelers on this earth, do we not owe each other that much?