A very dear friend of mine died yesterday. He was the same age as me, had been diagnosed with myeloma at almost exactly the same time that I was, and we’d both been taking the same drug to treat our condition for several years, each responding remarkably well. We were fellow travellers on a difficult road, offering mutual support to one another. Then, suddenly, bang: everything unravelled for him, a host of complications meaning that his treatment, and all remaining options, failed in quick succession. Now, his wife and family are left to grieve, and to wonder what might have been. What words can you offer in such a situation? There are none. Nothing we say can ease the devastation of loss. It’s all too easy to come out with clichés and platitudes: well intentioned, certainly, but – as the following reflection from my forthcoming book Seize the Day makes clear – ultimately unhelpful, The best we can do, the only thing we can do, is to be be there for those bereaved, whenever we may be needed.
A loved one has died
Can I see another’s woe, and not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another’s grief, and not seek for kind relief?
William Blake
The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair
or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and
bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing …
not healing, not curing … that is a friend who cares.
Henri Nouwen
My child is dead … Is there anything I can do
to bring him back again? No. Though I will go to him,
he will not return to me.
2 Samuel 12:23
A loved one has died,
taken before their time,
and though you yearn to offer solace,
there’s nothing you can do or say to take away the pain.
You can rage against the dying of the light;
you can speak of life beyond the grave,
a place prepared in heaven;
you can claim the deceased is finally at peace,
as though that somehow eases the sorrow;
you can pretend that death is nothing at all.
But it is something:
something overwhelming, crushing, devastating,
leaving those left behind shattered,
hearts broken,
life empty.
For someone they loved is gone,
never to return –
never again to hear their voice,
feel their touch,
enjoy their presence;
never the chance to talk with them,
laugh with them,
share with them;
never nearby to turn to for advice,
rely on for support,
lean on for comfort.
For such heartbreak and desolation there are no words.
But if you will be there to listen …
and hold …
and hug;
if you will be there to weep with,
howl with,
hurt with;
if you will support unconditionally –
not trying to make sense of what cannot be made sense of,
but just standing alongside the one bereaved;
then you will be a friend indeed:
a friend who rather than attempting to offer answers,
offers simply love,
until time alone can bring the healing that nothing else can give.