Most of us are pretty good about sending sympathy notes or taking casseroles to a friend we know who has recently experienced the loss of a loved one. An online friend is coming up on the two-year anniversary of her son’s death, and it is a stark reminder that the pain of loss doesn’t ever go away. Hopefully, it diminishes, but surely a hug by mail, phone, email, or private message is always appreciated.
In researching my upcoming book about how to write notes that connect, comfort, encourage, and inspire, I have seen two recurring themes in comments from those who have lost loved ones. While they appreciate the outpouring of care and attention they received in the immediate aftermath of the death, the weeks and months afterward—when their friends have gone on with their lives—can feel like they’ve fallen into a black hole and been forgotten. This is a huge opportunity for the rest of us to be more mindful of remembering these friends “after the casseroles are gone.”
I’m working on a way to create a better reminder system for following up with friends in the months and years after the death of their loved one. Fortunately, there are both digital and analog options:
- I keep a list of birthdays by month and when I get a new kitchen calendar every year, I add these birthdays to it. I can add death dates to this list (or create a new list) and add them to my calendar at the beginning of every year.
- I keep a dated “five-year journal” – the kind that only has four or five lines per day but there are five years on the same dated page. I can put reminders beside the date at the top of these pages to reach out to a friend on that day.
- Smartphones all have a reminder app you can use to set up recurring reminders and specify how often—and how far in advance—you want to receive a reminder.
- Gmail (and probably other email services) has a scheduling function, so I can write myself a reminder and schedule it to be delivered to my Inbox on a specific date and time.
Another recurring theme I hear is the lingering fear that a loved one will be forgotten. When we reach out to someone in the months and years after their beloved’s death, it can comfort them to know that person is not forgotten, and it helps when we acknowledge their right to still feel the pain of that loss.
Of course, I believe a heartspoken note, written by hand, is always appropriate for situations like this and represents a gift of love delivered by mail, but the specific way you choose to reach out to them should be based on your own relationship, your knowledge of what they would find meaningful, and your geographic proximity.
Thoughtfully following up over time with a grieving person is a way to convey love, comfort, and healing. Always let compassion and kindness be your guide.
If you have found or experienced other ways to follow up with a grieving friend “after the casseroles are gone,” I’d love to see them in the comments below.
NOTE: Appreciation to my friend Karen R. Sanderson for her title idea for this post.
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What a beautifully written reminder of the importance of continuing to remember and support those who have lost loved ones! I have to save a copy of this to remind myself of the impact a simple acknowledgment of understanding can bring. Thank you, Elizabeth.
Thank you so much for reading and commenting, Vicki! I do think we have to be strategic about this so we don’t get overwhelmed, and Jan Carroza had a good idea of using the deceased person’s birthday as a reminder, rather than their death date. It seems more cheerful :-).
I think that I myself made it too easy on my friends, by seeming to continue as my active, cheerful, independent, positive-thinking self after Hugh died. Sometimes I wonder if they have always thought of me as a single person, even when Hugh was alive. Perhaps I should have publicly grieved a bit more, but that would have made people feel more sorry for me, and I did not (and do not) want that. A conundrum. I do know that I very much enjoy it when Hugh becomes the subject of a conversation, and others talk about him with me.
Now I also look at other older couples that I know and want to remind them that one or the other of them will be the “surviving spouse”, perhaps sooner rather than later, and I hope they are prepared for this. It is much easier to pretend it won’t happen.
Can’t wait for your book.
Diane, I am so touched and appreciative that you shared these very honest, poignant comments. There is so much mystery surrounding death in our culture and we’re afraid to talk about it, so we often lack the insight you provided and are less able to support those we love in their grieving.
I particularly resonated with what you said about enjoying it when others talk about Hugh around you. I recently attended a family gathering and saw a cousin for the first time since his wife had died about a year earlier. As we were talking, I kept thinking about his wife and finally just blurted out, “Don, I hope it won’t make you sad, but I just want you to know how much I’m missing Donna and wishing she were here.” His eyes did fill with tears but he lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, thank you so much, Elizabeth. I love knowing when people are thinking of her, but they usually avoid talking about her for fear I’ll be sad.” That taught me an important lesson and you have just confirmed it.
I wonder if we’re ever prepared to be the “surviving spouse.” Probably not.
Thanks so much for your encouragement about the book. It’s a long time coming — ten years in my head before a word was written :-).
I just leave their birthdays on the calendar on the computer. I’m not really focused on the day they died, but the celebration of their birthday. I called a friend’s daughter to remember her Mom’s birthday and we had a jolly time telling stories.
This is a great idea, Jan, and keeps the remembrance from being so morbid. Thanks so much for sharing.