A Post that Might Offend…Or Help. I don’t know.

I've been sitting on this post for a couple of weeks now. I needed to jot down my thoughts and I wasn't sure if I should share it or not - but on the off chance that it helps someone, I decided to -

How are you doing?

Do you really want to know? Really?

I’m not sure you do. If you’re going to ask me this question, mean it. I will answer (most of the time), and you may not be ready for my answer. You may not really want to know. 

This is because I don’t know what the answer will be. There are days where I’m “fine” and days where that question will send me into a spiral of tears and anger. So – just know, I’m fragile. Yes it’s been two months, but I’m not “over it.” I don’t plan to be “over it.” I don't want to be over it. 

Fall is upon us. This is my favorite season. It means football, crisp morning air, gorgeous sunsets, scarves and changing leaves. It also reminds me that nothing is constant, and that’s painful. This was my dad’s favorite time of the year too…football, fishing and the beauty of the changing season. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve experienced a multitude of emotions. Wishing my dad was here yesterday when the weather was perfect and it would have been a great evening to catch a few fish. Wishing he was here for Alabama’s first game…as I watched it by myself (while Carlie and mom watched Auburn vs. Arkansas downstairs). Missing his commentary. Wishing he was here when I hit a deer and had no idea if I should drive my car home or leave it on the side of the road with the dead deer. Wishing he was at the house when I walked in the door..his smiling face and a “hey bud. How was Walmart today?” At the same time, I’m joyful in his favorite season and an Alabama Crimson Tide win. Grateful for my mom who is a rockstar of a person – so thankful he chose her. Amazed at the selflessness of my husband as fixes toilets, washes dishes and mows our yard and my mom’s every week while working and coaching full-time. 

Supporting a grieving friend or spouse is hard.

So many people have reached out to our family. We’ve received so many cards and flowers over the last few months.  Thank you.

There have been many times when people were grieving that I said, “Let me know if you need anything..” or thought that I should give them space.

Can I help a bit? That person that is grieving doesn’t know what they need. They won’t ever call you to let you know they “need something.” They don’t “need anything” other than the person they lost. Everyone experiences loss, and I pray I can someday be a crutch for someone walking a similar journey. I hope I can buy flowers and leave them on the doorstep, show up with dinner unannounced, bring a sweet tea to the person at work.  In the meantime, I’d love to help you help someone who is grieving (not necessarily us, just in general).

• Don't wait. Take action. If you're waiting for an invitation or request, it won't come. Be there. Listen. Take meals. Go get pedicures. Take the person to lunch. Don't try to make it better - you can't. Just be there. 
• Check in. Daily, weekly, monthly. Whatever you feel is appropriate based on your relationship with the person grieving. Continue to do this until you know the person has worked through their grief (this could be years). Even if they don't respond every time, keep doing this. 
• Listen. Don't be afraid to talk about the "lost person." This brings joy as much as sorrow. It is comforting. It's liberating. You don't need to have advice or know the right thing to say. I've said it before - I could boast in my dad's character for hours. Please let me do that - ask about him if you didn't know him. Share memories. Tears may come on this one...but it actually feels so good. 
• Don't be afraid of tears. It's been two months. I cry at least 3-4 days a week still. This isn't a "I'm so sorry-pity me" request - this is a ..just understand tears happen and I miss my dad request. 
• Keep bringing meals, flowers, gift cards, notes - much longer than you feel is normal. 
• Be patient. If a griever doesn't return your phone calls or texts immediately (or even over a few days), don't take it personally. They need time.  

I know processing grief is different for everyone. There’s no way to know the right or wrong thing to say. The most important thing is to be there.

“When someone is going through a storm, your silent presence is more powerful than a million empty words.” –Thema Davis