Exclamation Points Are Too Happy

“Well, it’s been two months...you should be feeling better by now!”

My neighbor’s words felt like the scorching red tip of a sword piercing through my heart.  I managed to smile though my eyes didn’t follow suit; the skin around them completely frozen matching the onslaught of vocabulary I held just behind my teeth.   

This neighbor is not a bad person.  She cooked me dinner every night for two weeks after my mom passed away.  She makes frozen treats for my dogs.  She watches my house when I'm away.

Yet her words still hurt.  

Even on the best of days, people, myself included, can say hurtful things but during times of despair, the wrong words at the worst of times is nauseating.   

So what do you say to a friend who has lost someone to suicide?  To a fatal car accident?  To an illness?  

Not much.

And, most people know this, often beginning their sentence with “I know there’s nothing I can say to make this better....”, words that assign instant credibility to the speaker.  

But, habitual, flippant greetings like “How are you?” are akin to nails on a chalkboard to someone who lost a loved one.  Just skip the question knowing that the grieving wish they could die rather than feel their inescapable pain.  Instead, a “Hey....I just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you ~ I’m so sorry for your loss", while perhaps empty to you, lands softly on our ears.  And (I know this is weird, but...) I was largely put off by exclamation points in texts.  “Hello!!  I’m here if you need anything!!”   

Exclamation points are too happy.   

"Hey...I'm here if you need anything" is somehow easier on the eyes.

Try skipping the “I hope you have a good day!” (and exclamation point) at the end of text conversations.  Sadly, we can’t have ‘good’ days.  Instead, “May you find moments of peace and comfort during this difficult time”  is a warm, neutral parting gesture.  

These conversations are still awkward and clumsy.  We get it.  But your courage in reaching out doesn’t go unnoticed and we appreciate your love and support.

I was most comforted when people prayed for me, when they’d send scripture or other inspirational quotes via text and sympathy cards through the mail; all of it was heartwarming.  Every card I received sits in a large stack in my closet as a reminder of the outpouring of love.  I cherished the friends who checked on me daily as part of their routine; it revealed their hearts for me in a way that I had been blind to before.  The small gifts I received - a rock with the word 'peace' written on it, a scripture book, a cloth bracelet - reminded me of how much I was loved.

Everyone wishes there was something they could say or do to relieve the devastation.  But grief feels like drowning.  It grabs your ankles and pulls you under water before you’re able to take a deep breath.  It robs you of the normalcy to which you’re accustomed, turning every pore of your body into a death wish to escape its excruciating torture.  While nothing can dissolve the pain, the outpouring of love and support is a lifesaver on the choppy water’s surface.  In moments where I felt my lungs filling with water, I’d catch a glimpse of a lifesaver bobbing in the waves, and then another...and another until I was surrounded by them.  Each life saver was a text, a call, a sympathy card, a small token, a scripture or inspirational quote.  

The pain doesn't dissipate but clinging to those lifesavers help the grieving fill their lungs with enough air to fight the undercurrent that waits just moments away.  The times when I was submerged under water, fighting for air, staring upward knowing I was in too deep, a text would inevitably come through...

"Lisa, I'm so sorry for what you're going through.  You are loved"

...And another life saver was thrown into the ocean bringing the surface of the water within reach.

Photo Credit: John Lund @ www.johnlund.com