At that funeral or vigil, where everyone was quiet, and all of a sudden you heard a burst of laughter from a certain corner, just know it was either me or someone from my “tribe” who cracked a funny joke.
I am one of those who struggle to come up with the appropriate words to say to people who are grieving for I do not find the common scripts appropriate. Therefore, as I grapple with choosing the right words, it takes me a longer time to come up with words to say. I prefer to mostly stay quiet but be present and to help in every way, including running to the store to buy a favorite drink for the grieving person.
Given my sensitivity to how fake mourning can be, I am that person who sees a mourner sobbing or crying loudest and I will privately investigate their relationship with the deceased. When I hear some mourners say: “It has happened; so, just celebrate his/her life,” I feel like stuffing their mouths with a bunch of rough papers just so they don’t spew out anymore venom.
When we say to grieving people, “ At least he/she has lived a long life, are we being ageists by suggesting that age is relevant to grieving? Shouldn’t we be concerned about how loved the deceased was instead of how old he/she was?
Perhaps, it is due to our knowledge that most grieving people won’t access professional grief counseling services that we take it upon ourselves to offer hurtful, yet unsolicited condolence messages.
“You will be fine”- leaves the grieving person wondering how and why you know that we will be fine.” Then there is: “Mine died when I was still very young; you should feel lucky that yours died when you are an adult.” “At least, one of your parents is still alive” “At least he has left some inheritance for you; mine left no inheritance”.And to the widows, we are often quick to remind them how lucky they are that at least the deceased husband had already built a house for them.”
In her latest book/memoir, Notes on Grief, the internationally-acclaimed, bestselling Nigerian author Chimamanda Ngozie Adichie reflects on her grieving experience in the wake of her father’s death.
She observed that “Grief is a cruel kind of education. You learn how ungentle and full of anger mourning can be. You learn how glib [fake] condolences can feel. You learn how much grief is about language, the failure of language and the grasping for language.”
Chimamanda finds some supposedly consoling statements startling in their presumptuousness. She, for instance, wonders how we know that the deceased is “in a better place and the grieving people – who definitely knew the person better – don’t know. Ideally, the grieving person is in a better place to know – if there was any accessible information – as to whether the deceased is in a better or worse place.
There is a famous quote by an unknown author that says: “It is not your job to fix me, but it is your job to hold my hand while I fix myself.”
It is important to remember that following the loss of a dear one, “moving on” is not for everyone. People may move forward without necessarily moving on. May we always remember that as much as we may want to help the grieving people heal faster, there is no single linear/universal method or scripted words that work for everyone?
Perhaps, we need to always do some background exploration about the grieving lexicon of the bereaved. To those for whom English is not native, most of the scripted English words come across as not only bizarre, but also injurious.
For all its worth, I love the English words very much. However, to all those for whom English is not native, I tend to pass on the condolence messages in people’s native language.
Chimamanda notes that she was comforted more by Igbo words like “Ndo” the English equivalent of “I’m sorry” since such words have a metaphysical heft whose borders transcend the mere “sorry.” In the same vein, the Luganda speakers use words such as “Nga kitalo”, “Mutawaana”, “Kizzebubi”. Most Banyakitara speakers (Banyankore, Bakiga, Batooro, Basongora) use words such as “Huumura”, “mpora”, “Beitu kawabona”
May we also learn that some of the scripted words and actions only worsens people’s grief? Also, while some grieving people need our physical presence, others grieve better when alone or surrounded by those who are most specifically related them.
The writer is a social worker.