This is the second entry in the blog post series where I share some insights and lessons I’ve learnt on my journey with grief. I share it with the hope that we will be more equipped to be Christ’s hands and feet in a hurting world. You can read the first post here, where I share how our theological perspective influences the way we make sense of suffering and how unbiblical biases can hinder us from showing Christ-like compassion to those who suffer.
After Leendert’s death, Smirna and I moved to the town where my parents live. I hadn’t lived there before, I only knew a few faces from church, so most people were essentially strangers to me. Living in a small town feels like living in a fishbowl- everyone peeks in from the outside and feels entitled to discuss your life at the hairdresser, the local coffee shop, or in the supermarket aisle. But this fishbowl can be comforting; after a while, you don’t need to introduce yourself to new faces, because chances are, they already know who you are and why you’ve moved to this corner of the world. They heard the news when it was still steaming hot.
Even if we don't live in small towns anymore, we still swim in some form of a fishbowl. We befriend semi-strangers on social media, and we know people from church or see their names on a prayer list. However, this superficial knowledge of someone’s circumstances, or the glimpse we get from their social media life, does not even equate to a Tweet of the Trilogy…
Things are not always the way it seems.
Leendert was a beloved Church figure in our community, a passionate extroverted lover of people, on fire to see the Kingdom of God come! Yet, it was only his closest friends that knew of his mental health struggles. As his wife, I didn’t even grasp the darkest deepest pit he found himself in!
I couldn’t be inside his fishbowl.
I looked, and it turned out it wasn’t the way it seemed.
I hope these tips will help you to get a glimpse of what really is on the other side of the glass bowl divide!
Lessons that I’ve learnt
1. Emotions are complex
My approach to dealing with emotions is pretty much like a head-on collision. I feel it, I dissect it, I try to assess the cause, sometimes go in overdrive and then I try to limp onwards. Was I in for a surprise as I discovered a whole new level of complexities hidden in my entangled spaghetti bowl of feelings?
I discovered that our language is void of the words I am feeling. Surely there must be an abstract noun for: 'the moment when you miss the person so bad that your body physically aches, also feeling relieved that you don’t need to carry their burden anymore, feeling that you will do it again in a life replay, and feeling angry that they are not experiencing any of the things you stare in the face now.'
And there my view of ‘Clarina’s permitted emotions’, was shattered! Sometimes I felt angry, like full-blown befok, and I couldn’t find a logical reason for it! I felt so uncomfortable with this unfeminine emotion. It didn’t fit into my belief of ‘trusting the supremacy of God’- yet, the cortisol was flooding my veins like a crushing wave on the beach. It was only when I got over myself and scratched my little list, that I could bring my emotions to my Maker, asking for His perspective- still convicted in my belief AND feeling the feels.
If I had to deconstruct my own attitude regarding my emotions, it must even be harder to understand for the person on the outside of my fishbowl.
For someone else, it did look heartless and numb that I could talk about an intensely traumatic event without shedding a tear. They just didn’t know that it was my hundredth time swimming the same lap in the same fishbowl, it was like a well-rehearsed speech, by this time void of any emotion!
This was an actual conversation I had a few months after his death and my response was:
“When I talk about something, I talk until my talk is talked. The problem is the stuff I am not talking about because the unspoken things are the things that still sting like hell.”
(The trauma approach called TIR works on this premise and involves re-experiencing past traumas in a completely safe environment.)
Looking back, I appreciate the friend who asked that question that felt heartless at the moment. She did not assume because I appeared ‘cold’ on the outside, that I was emotionally unscathed. The real hurt would have occurred if that friend had shared her assumptions about my emotions as conclusions with others. Such an act, even if not done maliciously, could have caused significant secondary trauma and broken trust.
When I shared my blog on Facebook, I posted: ‘There is a certain vulnerability in sharing snapshots, I am transposing fluid emotions with solid letters- in black and white.’ The vulnerability is that what I shared today, won’t be what I am feeling a day or two from now.
Stay in the process with me!
2. Grief looks unique
Despite my degree in Psychology, I had a lot of assumptions about grief because I had the theoretical knowledge without context. Learning about something IN the context where you need the knowledge brings a whole different revelation.
I thought about the stages of grief as a linear process, like an 800m race- dashing from the starting point, passing each 50m mark to reach the finish line in record time or at least a ‘personal best’. I realised it is rather an elliptical course like the planets orbiting the sun, with moons orbiting the planets while nothing seems to change, only to look back and see the dawn breaking. And after 365 journeys around your own axis finding yourself in the same spot again- but changed.
I’ve documented the part of my journey where I've spent some time at a Healing Centre (also known as a Private Psychiatric Hospital) in this post. It was an incredible opportunity to spend two weeks with professionals who had the capacity to listen to me and ask the right questions. They provided me with an alternative framework to understand my experience. To my surprise, I discovered that my thought patterns and emotions were actually quite normal!
Understanding the tasks of mourning, along with the stages of grief, empowered me to take an active role in my healing journey.
When we understand some of the theories about grief, we can better understand our own emotions and, more importantly, make room for other people’s unique journeys with grief.
Tips when you support someone:
When you think about that ‘someone’, ask yourself:
Do I really care or do I just want to have the inside scoop on someone else’s drama - like an entitled fish-bowl spectator?
Keep your answer in mind when you read on.
1) Don’t assume emotions - ask open-ended questions.
It may seem obvious, but asking a truly sincere, open-ended question is more challenging than it appears. Avoid the temptation to assume or label the emotions you think someone is feeling, even if you think their feelings should fall under a category like "heartbroken", rather ask:
“How are you really doing today?”
Consider the difference: if you ask, “You must feel quite depressed, don’t you?” you’ve immediately set the expectations for their emotions. This not only pressures them to confirm or deny your assumption but also adds a layer of shame if they aren’t “sad enough” given their circumstances.
Open-ended questions create a space for vulnerable conversations, allowing you to gain deeper insight into their world on the other side of the fishbowl divide.
By avoiding assumptions, you encourage honesty and support them in a way that respects their unique experience.
2) Don’t assume needs - ask specific questions.
I feel incredibly blessed by the support I’ve received from my village. They didn’t just assume I would be financially secure, they asked - because our life insurance didn’t pay out. Our local church community pitched in- praying and worshipping with me in our house that day, and taking care of my groceries. My friend put her life on hold to help me with all the funeral arrangements, while my family, including my brother and his wife who came from Scotland, packed up my house in just a few days. Sometimes, my friends seemed to know what I needed even before I did, like when one of them booked a boat cruise for the three of us. Others spent countless hours with me, listening, crying, or simply being there. Their thoughtfulness and support have meant the world to me.
You can be like them and ask specific questions to hear if you can offer your help in these ways:
Offer a distraction.
Ask, "Do you need a distraction?"
Suggest engaging activities, maybe going for a walk, spending time in nature, doing arts, or playing a game.
Offer practical help
Ask, "Do you need me to do something for you?"
Offer to assist with responsibilities that may be overwhelming, such as running errands, cooking a meal, doing dishes or laundry.
Offer your presence
Ask, "Do you need me to be quiet?"
Give them the option to have some quiet time if they need space to process their thoughts without feeling pressured to verbalise them right away.
Offer to speak through things
Ask, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Let them know you are available to listen if they feel ready to share their feelings and experiences.
3) Avoid clichés:
It is easy to be at a loss for words when supporting someone, but you don’t need to sound like you’ve got the answers! Clichés or pat answers can easily have a theological undertone which creates a whole new rabbit hole of existential questions. Take for example: “God picked his most beautiful flower for His garden.” cringe
or “You need to be strong for ‘person Y or Z’.” or ‘It could have been worse.” or “I don’t understand how bad things happen to good people.” (Seriously, none of us are that good! See my first post)
When in doubt … Keep your mouth void of any sound…
4) Avoid these unhelpful assumptions
The person who grieves is so much more than their loss. Do not assume that an invite to an event will be triggering, don’t assume that it will do them good to attend. Do not assume that you should not talk about your life, because maybe they also need to know they are valuable as a friend and have something to offer. Do not assume that you should not speak about their lost one or the memory of them.
There are no cookie-cutter experiences…
When in doubt - ask.
The most important thing is, to stay in the process- clarify your sighting of their fishbowl world and extend grace to one another, we all will get it wrong sometime or another.
Subscribe to the e-mail newsletter with updates on the next posts in the series. Post “#3 Be clear in communicating your boundaries”, is bringing another perspective to the points mentioned in this post.
Footnote: Even though I am acquainted with my own grief, it did not give me the ‘know-how’ for similar situations. I didn’t know what to say to a friend whose daughter passed away. I am sure a lot of people did not know what to say to me! But being with this friend, with a loss of words, I realise that it is much simpler to ditch the person and abstain from sending that message. Emotions are messy and naturally, we would choose to distance ourselves from such situations.
🙏🏼 Here is my sincere thank you to everyone who reached out to me, despite their stumbling words or baffled emotions!
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