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When words aren't enough

Monday, May 28 at 12:01 AM

This Speakout has not been edited

By Harry Puncec, Lakewood

What do you say when words aren't enough? The question struck me with force when I turned away from the clerk at the Post Office to find a neighbor standing there. In an instant I recalled her adult daughter living in California had committed suicide just before Christmas, and this was the first time I had seen her since before the tragedy. Without thinking I went up to her, looked into her eyes, and said lamely, "I'm so sorry to hear about your daughter".

"Thank you! I know you know what we're going through," she replied. She was right. Our 21-year-old son had been killed in a flying accident 18 years ago and he had gone to Bear Creek High School about the same time as her daughter. For one of those extremely rare moments in my life I was grateful that I too was a member of the Shot-in-the-Heart Society. I did understand.

After a hug we began to talk about the shared experience while I looked closely at her to see how she was doing - really doing. I saw the pain, the beginning of a tear in the corner of an eye, but also a special melancholy strength. She had taken a few of those shaky first steps down the path of survival, and I felt she had a chance.

Later I thought about how the language of grief and comforting is often the language of religion. You "pray" for them, you assure them that their child is in "heaven", and you recall the soothing words of the 23rd Psalm. Even those without great insight rely on it when they say, "God needed another angel". We use those words because they express feeling so profound and deep that nothing else works.

In truth how can anyone say that the departed is in a better place when we'd rather not go there ourselves right now? Can we speak of the abyss of darkness and despair experienced by the survivors when we see only the sun?

Those ritualistic words handed down for centuries and spoken from the alter offer a safe haven from our own feelings of fear, the dread that our time is coming.

So what else can you say? For one thing the name of the deceased has become precious. The individual is gone but the wake of their life still ripples across the lake of our experiences. Use their name. Savor their name.

Immortalize their name.

Recall experiences. It's okay to discover after their death that everyone knew that they had snuck out the family car to visit their girl friend, and in the process dinged the front quarter panel. You can laugh - yes, laughing is permitted - when you remember how innocent they looked when you discovered the damage. It's not important that they pretended to be as mystified as you were over the mark. Everything is forgiven in death. Touching works. The human touch has a language of its own. A firm handshake is fine but a handshake combined with a grasp of an elbow or forearm is better. A quick hug says one thing while a lingering one says much more. Touching with your eyes is perhaps the most intimate of all.

The word 'sorry' is only spoken from lips, but it is shouted by a direct and unblinking look into the eyes.

And then there's the language of silence. To listen as the pain spills out and you fight the urge to flee is the ultimate gift of support. Even if your heart is breaking, all you need to know is that what you are doing is the right thing. You don't have to have the answers; you only need to be there.

READER COMMENTS

Grief is one of the most powerful emotions a person can experience.The pain never goes away.It lessens over time,but small things that remind you of when that person was alive can bring the pain back to your heart as it just happened all over again.
Yes we can say they are in a better place. Yes, we can say they suffered and now are at peace.
Where does that leave us?Hanging onto our dreams of them.Hanging on to a personal item that brings comfort. Hanging on to the picture in our mind of them when they were with us.
Hanging on to to the good times we had laughing together.Hanging on to the special bond we had with that person.
Yes,grief is a powerful thing.

It keeps us hanging on.

Posted by Can I get an AMEN! on May 29, 2007 07:15 AM