God Squad: How to talk to a mourner

Q: I have never written to any columnist before, but I have been an avid reader of the God Squad for years. Your recent column on grieving truly spoke to me. My beloved husband died suddenly (in the bathroom) a year and a half ago in our home. We retired a few months before and had many plans, including travel once COVID was over. We met and married in our late 40s and with our children blended into a great family. We all miss him every single day. The first year was hard and the second is harder as we face the reality that he is gone. I'm not surprised by this feeling, I expected it as I have experienced loss before, but not the depth of this loss.

I practice my faith and know that our Lord will see us all through this time. However, I have found that people have a hard time understanding my loss. Some close family members have asked (a few months after his death) what I was doing for "fun" while others don't understand how I can use the room he died in. I'm lucky that I have a sense of humor, and to the latter remark replied that as it's our only shower I'd be awfully smelly if I couldn't use it.

I've been asked (at the wake, mind you) do I plan on moving? What do I want to do now? Many sentences begin with the dreaded six words: I know what you should do. (Ugh.) Oh, and somehow it's been determined I can no longer drive myself but need to carpool if I should go out. REALLY?

To me, the fact that I am not lying in the fetal position, but I get up, dress and go out somewhere every day, even if it's to my backyard to garden, is healthy. Our children and grandchildren are my joy, and we see each other regularly and my husband is often in our conversations. I feel that I will find my way in my own time. I know that this currently intense grief will lessen but will never go away as I will miss my husband until my dying day when we will be reunited (hopefully in heaven). I just wish some people would be more sensitive and stop telling me what I should do!  Thanks, Rabbi Gelman, for listening! — Anonymous

A:  You are a first-class mourner!  After less than two years you have already learned the most important lessons a mourner can learn: that people who love you can give you really bad advice. Be patient with their homespun ignorance. They just want to help you and because there is no solution to the death of a loved one, they pretend there is so that they do not have to face to finality of death. Death is a mystery, not a problem. Death is not something to which we can suddenly find an answer. Like all mysteries, death is something where we must live our way into the answers. Grief teaches us more about ourselves than about the object of our grief. So be grateful and be patient.  Say thank you to those who think they know what you should do next and then totally ignore them.

You have learned that doing anything is better than doing nothing. The things you do help you feel less like a victim and more like a broken human being. You might want to try doing things to serve others in need. Local food pantries and soup kitchens are always looking for volunteers, and helping others may be exactly the help you need for yourself.

You have learned to laugh. Laughter reminds you that death cancels life but it does not have to cancel joy. I have been fascinated to learn that after about a year, many mourners return to the set point level of happiness they had before the death of their loved one. If they were happy before, they become happy after.  If they were cynical and despairing before, they will be cynical and despairing after. My guess is that you were happy and grateful before your husband's death and there is every reason to believe that you will be that person again very soon.

You have also learned that Heaven is our best and only source of real hope in the face of death. You can bear any burden and wipe away any tear once you realize that because of God's love you will not be separated forever from those you love.

May God comfort you among all the mourners.

Oh, and one more thing: "I know what you should do!"