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I don't think I could have survived the last couple of weeks with my mental and physical health intact were it not for the oceans of friends and family members who surrounded me and my children with not only love, prayers, and moral support, but with practical assistance and offers of continuing help. I had never realized until being in this situation how difficult it can be to navigate such simple daily tasks as eating, sleeping, and basic hygiene, never mind the new demands of life after a loss.
If you are fortunate enough not to have experienced this kind of a loss yourself, you may not know, as I didn't, the best ways to help a friend who is grieving. So from my personal experience, here are some practical ways you can help.
Food: I had never understood why people bring food to someone who has lost a loved one, but now I do: Making food is too much of an effort. Eating is almost too much of an effort. But if it's there, and you don't have to think about it, there's a chance you might actually eat. Groups setting up meal deliveries is wonderful, especially a week or two after the loss. But for those first few days, the thought of eating an entire meal could be stomach-turning. My husband's fraternity brothers sent us a giant tub full of every kind of snack imaginable, from chips to beef jerky to cookies to brownies to pickles to popcorn to cheese. His boss sent a couple of tubs of soup and some rolls. Another friend sent a giant tub of popcorn. My brother-in-law left us a few platters of finger sandwiches and small bags of chips. I left everything nonperishable on the kitchen island and as we wandered through, we saw it, thought, "I should eat something," and could then grab anything that came close to tempting our appetites. It also helped me to feel like I wasn't failing as a hostess because I had food to offer visitors. It may sound silly, but at a time when everything around me seemed to be spiraling out of control, that one bit of graciousness helped provide me with a sense of normalcy and control that kept me from completely losing it.
[Note: Gift cards for both delivery and eat-in restaurants are great for the days down the road when you unexpectedly have a rough day. And if there are kids, GCs for treats like ice cream and Dunkin Donuts are wonderful, especially if money is tight for a while and treats are rarer.]
Household Help: So many people asked what they could do to help in the early days, but I was in such a fog that I just didn't know what I needed. But my stepdaughter and her husband were staying with us, and they provided the practical help of washing dishes, discarding faded flowers, and running errands, things that I barely noticed needing to do. If you're a local friend, look around for tangible tasks you can take on: offer to mow the lawn, water the garden, fill the car with gas, vacuum the house, run a load of laundry, clean the bathroom, drive the kids to activities, put out the trash bins. Even the offers I didn't take for these tasks reminded me that they needed to be done, and doing them helped me feel like I was still managing life okay. And when I couldn't do them, there was someone ready to take over.
Trash: The amount of cardboard needing recycling and trash needing discarding after a funeral outweighs even Christmas. I have never broken down so many boxes in my life. Offer to gather recycling and put it in the bin, or if you can, bring some home to recycle yourself. I filled my bin every week and still had more recycling waiting. Another lovely offer you can make a week or so after the services is to collect and discard the flowers. It felt like another level of finality to do that task, and it would have been easier if someone had taken care of that. I would gladly have asked someone to do it, but I didn't know how hard it would be until I was doing it.
Funeral Preparation and the Service Itself: My pastor and church staff were incredibly helpful in this department, as was the funeral director. But there were some aspects I needed help with. We held a reception at the church hall after the service and I tried to figure out the food needs, but was soon overwhelmed. My brother-in-law, a retired caterer, stepped in and managed everything about the reception, including setting up the tables, cleaning up afterwards, and magically making more food appear when we got more than twice as many guests as expected. My sister-in-law offered to help pick out dresses for the funeral for my daughter and myself that I could order online. Friends from the church assisting with parking, directing people to the sanctuary and bathrooms, and helping put out the food. My kids' Scout troops carried chairs from the hall and set them up at the back of the sanctuary for overflow seating. Multiple people checked on me during the reception to be sure I was eating and drinking, and seeing if I needed to take a break from the crowds. Others checked on my kids when I was caught up in the eddy of what had unexpectedly turned into a receiving line. Simply be there, look around for what's needed, and do it.
Work Together: As a huge introvert, getting too many calls and texts could have been overwhelming for me. One of the most helpful things anyone did for me was the week prior to the funeral, when one of the Scout parents set up a group chat where I could send a message like, "Can a few people help set up tables at the reception?" and immediately 3 or 4 people volunteered and ran with it without my needing to figure out who to ask individually. The church also designated one person to talk to me about delivering meals, so they could coordinate a schedule and I didn't have to figure out how to arrange dates with 5 or 6 different people. Let clearer heads take care of organizing and scheduling.
Offer Your Specific Skills: My husband was a Freemason, and one of the greatest gifts they offered me was a list of contact information for all the Brothers, including calling out those who were accountants, attorneys, electricians, therapists, plumbers, etc., with specific skill sets that I might need in the near (or not-so-near) future. I was fortunate to have a friend who is an estate attorney, and in my fragile emotional state, it was much easier to work with her than it would have been to deal with a stranger or someone who didn't know my husband, while I was falling apart emotionally. If you own a snowplowing business, offer to plow their driveway. If you run a tutoring business, offer to help their kids if school is a struggle. If you're a CPA, offer to help with their taxes. If you're a tech wizard, offer to help manage accessing emails and phone messages. The practical struggles will go on for months, so look ahead for upcoming issues you can help with, not just immediately after the loss.
Share Memories: In the first few days, when my grief was the most raw, one of the most comforting things I had was friends sharing memories. Several people reached out to tell me of a quiet moment of generosity and kindness from my husband that I hadn't even been aware of. Or they reminded me of a funny story from when they had first met him. One college friend posted a hilarious photo of my husband at a frat party, wearing a toga and a necktie. The Scout troop asked the Scouts to write or draw a memory of him and are putting them into a book for us. There will be tears no matter what, but smiles and laughter make the tears more bearable. I loved knowing that other people had seen and loved all the things about him that I loved him for.
A Handwritten Note: Miss Manners is right, there's nothing quite like a handwritten note. The flurry of cards we received in the first weeks was overwhelming and I couldn't quite bring myself to read them all, but as time went by, I went back and read each one. My faith helps me to get through each day, and knowing that so many people were praying for me and my family, thinking of us, and sending us wishes for comfort and love buoyed my spirits in the darkest hours. The sentiments in the printed cards were lovely and heartfelt, but seeing all the different individually-handwritten notes really brought home the number of lives that my husband had touched, as well as how many people were thinking of us.
Offer Normal Invitations: Again, being an introvert, my mantra is often, "I want to be invited, but I don't want to go." Except that sometimes I do. I didn't know when I would be ready for "normal" activities and events, but I appreciated friends contacting me to invite me to coffee, or lunch, or a cookout. My kids especially needed normalcy. The day before the funeral was the last day of school for the year, and they both asked to go and have a "regular day." We live across the street from a public park, and my son's friends would often text to say that they would be there playing volleyball, if he'd like to join them. He had friends over to swim in our pool, where they didn't have to talk but could just goof off and be typical teenage boys. My daughter was invited to a birthday party and eagerly accepted. Sometimes your brain needs to escape from the emotional morass into a normal activity that's not overshadowed by grief.
Offer Resources That Have Helped You: If you have experienced a loss, or have worked with someone who has, and you have books, podcasts, websites, counselors, etc., that have proven helpful, share them. My pastor, my cousin, and several friends gave or sent me books that they or their friends found helpful. My stepdaughter asked for podcasts about grief and was inundated with options. Every grief is unique, so the more resources are available, the more likely the person can find something that speaks to their personal struggles. If there are children involved, don't forget to share resources that might be helpful to them, as well. The Scout troop had some resources specifically for teenagers dealing with loss, and more importantly, teenagers dealing with friends dealing with loss. If you can, read up on how to help someone dealing with loss.
Stick Around: Out-of-town family and friends eventually need to return home, and the house gets quiet. But then come the hard days of wading through confusing paperwork and taking on new responsibilities, and it helps to have support still. Check in once in a while, just to let them know you're thinking of them and you're around if they need you. Send another card acknowledging that they're still grieving. Offer to take them out for coffee, or lunch, or running errands, or just a walk. Getting out of the house - heck, getting out of bed - can be a struggle some days, but having a friend to do it with makes it easier. And don't worry about needing to talk. Just being there is a comfort.
Don't Be Afraid to Get It Wrong: It's important to ask, not just do, but as long as you aren't overly pushy or insistent, it's hard to go wrong with offering help. Let them set the pace of their grief, but let them know you're there when they need you. A quick text saying, "I'm thinking of you. Let me know if you want to grab a coffee," or "How's your day going? Need a hand with anything?" can be an emotional lifeline on a rough day and a reassuring reminder on a good one. Hugs are good, if you know they're a huggy person (and sometimes even if they're usually not). Disney characters follow a rule of not letting go of a hug until the child lets go; that's a good rule for grieving people, too. Some days a quick hug is all I need; others I really need to cling for a minute. And it's okay to not know what to say. Your presence is so much more important than your words. Grief is ultimately a profound sense of loneliness. You will never be able to fill the hole left behind by the loss, but your presence can make it smaller and more manageable.
Accept Unspoken Thanks: Finally, don't expect a verbal or written thank-you. I have tried very hard to acknowledge every gift and contact, but some days a bunch of things arrive in a flurry or I'm just in a fog and miss something. Know that it is immensely appreciated whether or not you hear it directly. You may not know what to say, but the grieving person doesn't either. Know that you helped.
