In the scheme of things, we expect to outlive our parents. It is in the natural order that we anticipate that our parents will die before us. And yet it seems that nothing prepares us for the loss – the void we feel following their deaths.

When my last parent died, I felt I had lost my buffer. Without my mom, there was no longer a layer that protected me. When she was alive, no matter what happened or what curve life threw my way, I had someone older and wiser to lean on and learn from. My mom was wise and she continually helped me put my life and experience in perspective. 

Many friends share the difficulty of caring for a mother or father who is sick and failing. Roles shift and the child becomes the caretaker. But even in sickness, a friend shared that she was able to sit close and lean her head on her mother’s shoulder. Just the very act was comforting, even though their roles had reversed.

It is during the role reversal that many of us grieve for the parent we have already lost. And we might think that in grieving and accepting the loss, we will be prepared for the finality of death. But many of us find that nothing prepares us for our parent’s death; especially our last parent.

The pain of losing a parent can be intense. I’ve heard this is true whether you had a good relationship or not. Most friends shared that the first year was the hardest. I found this true and was grateful as I moved into the second year following my mother’s death.

When my grief lingered, my husband encouraged me to find others to fill the void. “Look for someone older to establish a relationship,” he suggested. But I had lost more than my mother; within a year of her death, my last aunt died along with most of my mother’s close friends. I felt as if I lost an entire layer of my life.

So how did I move on? I did cultivate a stronger bond with my siblings and that helped me feel the continuity of family. But in my mother’s absence, I myself filled the void and took on her role. I learned how to comfort myself and my family. I became stronger and looked to myself for answers. Even today, if I have any doubts, I replay my mother’s messages over in my mind. She did her job well and I learned from the master. “Things have a way of working out,” she often said and you know what, they usually do.

Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, now at a reduced price for e-books for "Illness & Death," "Suicide," "Miscarriage," "Death of a Child," "Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby," "Pet Loss," "Caregiver Responsibilities," "Divorce" and "Job Loss." All titles are in Amazon's Kindle Store.
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Copyright www.Legacy.com  Used with permission

The words sympathy and empathy are often thought to be interchangeable, and yet they are distinct expressions with different meanings.

In times of death, we often extend sympathy by sharing our sorrow for what’s happened. Sympathy cards are often synonymous with condolence messages. When offering sympathy, we’re expressing concern for another’s feelings. Sympathy cards, condolence notes, phone calls, e-mails, meals, and offers of assistance are all expressions of sympathy.

But you don’t offer empathy, you feel it. Empathy is the act of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes. It’s trying to imagine: “How would I feel if this happened to me?” And it’s the ability to act on those feelings. When being empathetic, we extend our concern by offering compassion so the bereaved feel validated; that someone has a sense of what has happened and how they might be feeling.

I think it’s easier to extend sympathy. We all know to attend the funeral, participate in mourning rituals, send a condolence card, make a donation, and keep in touch. Empathy is harder; it’s taking the time to think carefully while trying to understand how you might feel if this happened to you and what might bring you comfort.

Listening is a good example of empathy and we all know how difficult it is to simply pay close attention to what is being said, without adding our personal feelings or thoughts. It takes patience to hear the same story over and over again, but it is an empathetic and meaningful thing to do.

When I think back to some of the stories that the bereaved have shared, it’s easy to discern the differences. One mother wrote that at her child’s funeral, she sat all by herself with her surviving child; everyone else, including her ex-husband, sat behind her. If someone had taken a seat next to her, that would have been empathetic. A grieving daughter shared that she had to make the arrangements for her father’s funeral and reception by herself. Relatives weren’t happy with her choices and complained to her at a time of painful loss. Empathetic folks would have helped; those that couldn’t help would have accepted what she was capable of doing and extended comfort.

We’ll all experience loss: Would you prefer someone extend you sympathy or empathy?

Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, now at a reduced price for e-books for "Illness & Death," "Suicide," "Miscarriage," "Death of a Child," "Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby," "Pet Loss," "Caregiver Responsibilities," "Divorce" and "Job Loss." All titles are in Amazon's Kindle Store.
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Adults have a lot to offer teens by way of experience, so we expect teens to learn from us. And yet there are times when adults can learn from them.

When a teenager dies, it’s often a teen’s first experience with death. Teens grieve for their peers differently than adults and some of their practices are healthy. Here’s what adults can learn from teens:

1.     Teens grieve in groups. They congregate together during the funeral and afterwards. They huddle together in circles and grieve in a communal manner. They frequently comfort each other by hugging.

2.    Teens grieve openly and don’t try to put on a face. They’re not embarrassed to cry.

3.    Teens are the memory keepers and they share their stories. No matter what the relationship, whether friend, classmate, intimate, or acquaintance, they will dredge up every contact, every shared experience, and reminisce.

4.    A teen funeral attracts hundreds of teens; everyone turns out even if they hardly knew the teen or the teen was an acquaintance.

5.    Teens can overwhelm the bereaved family, wanting to hang out at the teen’s home so they can comfort the family and feel close to the teen that has died.

6.    Teens use online forums, such as Facebook, to express their grief. Months and years later, they continue to post and share their feelings and memories.

So how can adults grieve more like teens? We adults can show our support for the bereaved and all turn out for the funeral, whether it’s a neighbor, colleague, congregational member, former teacher, or a community member. We can grieve more openly, not being afraid to shed our tears in front of others. We can look after each other, grieve in groups so we share our loss, and comfort each other so no one has to feel alone in their grief. We too can be memory keepers, searching for encounters and stories and sharing them with the bereaved family and our peers so we don’t forget. While we don’t want to overwhelm the bereaved family, we can visit, keep them company, listen, comfort them, and share their loss. We can use a forum (online or off) to express our grief, perhaps even notes, letters, and emails to the bereaved to let them know we remember their loved one and they’re not forgotten.

While teens will continue to learn from us, if we’re open to new perspectives, there’s a lot we adults can learn from them.

Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, now at a reduced price for e-books for "Illness & Death," "Suicide," "Miscarriage," "Death of a Child," "Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby," "Pet Loss," "Caregiver Responsibilities," "Divorce" and "Job Loss." All titles are in Amazon's Kindle Store.

​Copyright Legacy.com.  Used with permission.


photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/23139351@N00/148589723">DSC09708</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">(license)</a>

Here we are, still in the midst of the pandemic. In "normal" times, it is easy for us to become overwhelmed with fear, anxiety, and stress when faced with life’s difficulties, whether illness, death, or a personal crisis: This is not a normal time.

Most of us intuitively know it’s important to be supportive during troubling times, and yet it can be challenging despite our best efforts. Our friends, neighbors, loved ones, colleagues, and community members are facing a myriad of issues from health, unemployment, financial to mental health. You might reach out to them and get a response,  and other times, no response. 

When someone is facing a daily crisis, they often do not have time or energy to answer queries. But that doesn’t mean that your emails, phone calls, or text messages are not appreciated. In fact, it’s possible your outreach helps them pull themselves together to face another hour or make it through the day.

At one time I faced a crisis. Friends and family were eager to keep in touch, and I was too overwhelmed to talk or return messages. I asked everyone to text me, and that way my phone alerted me to messages and the message remained on my screen until I opened my phone. I got text messages in the morning that asked how the evening before went and text messages before bed that queried how the day had gone. Each message made me feel less isolated, kept me connected, and helped me cope. This is a helpful approach that is not intrusive. Periodically send text messages that say: “Thinking of you,” “Miss you,” or “I'm here for you.” Don't expect a response and you won't be disappointed when you don’t get one. Your ultimate goal is to be supportive.

A friend took a different tact when her mom faced terminal cancer. She sought indirect support by updating everyone through Facebook posts. While many people are uncomfortable putting such personal details on social media, some find solace, as did my friend. Her Facebook friends who were uncomfortable with public posting reached her privately through Facebook Messenger. The many heartwarming responses comforted my friend, and when her mom died, the online community continued to rally around her.
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We have many forms of communications that make it easy and less intrusive to reach others. Continue to seek out ways to stay in touch during difficult times as your efforts truly show you care.

Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, now available as e-books for "Illness & Death," "Suicide," "Miscarriage," "Death of a Child," "Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby," "Pet Loss," "Caregiver Responsibilities," "Divorce" and "Job Loss." All titles are in Amazon's Kindle Store.

The death of a loved one brings significant change. We are no longer a spouse, parent, sibling, child, or friend. Life is completely thrown off course and every aspect of it is altered, including our social order, financial circumstances, and relationships. We view the world through a different lens and as we mourn our loved one, our perspective shifts.

Grieving a loss is like finding yourself caught in an emotional tsunami; everything seems out of control, with no notion of how to reign things in. It can feel as if you’re stumbling in the dark, searching for a calm port in a raging storm.

As the days turn into weeks, and the weeks become months, most of us begin to get a grip on things and start to find our footing. We realize we are adjusting and slowly reenter the world. But as we pick up the threads of our lives, we find one change that is difficult to absorb: Without our knowledge or consent, we have changed.

One bereaved spouse shares: “I miss the old me.” You might also be missing the mother, daughter, sibling, or friend you used to be. But maybe what you are pining for isn’t the old you, but the sheltered you. The you that did not know such pain existed; the you who did not know what it would feel like to be left fatherless, motherless, parent-less, sibling-less, spouse-less, or childless.

While we continue to mourn our loss, it becomes evident that life changes are inevitable. While moving through our grief we begin to see the possibility of positive outcomes. Coming face to face with life’s fragilities helps us focus on our priorities, recognizing what’s truly important. And while we might have lost the ability to see the world through rose-colored glasses, we have gained greater empathy for others facing loss.

You may be surprised to see that a new “me” emerges from your grief. The new me is just a different version of the old me, one that feels older and wiser. It will take time to adjust to the new me. Once you do, you’ll be in a place to make better decisions to move you forward. 

Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, now available as e-books for "Illness & Death," "Suicide," "Miscarriage," "Death of a Child," "Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby," "Pet Loss," "Caregiver Responsibilities," "Divorce" and "Job Loss." All titles are in Amazon's Kindle Store.
Photo: blavandmaster Out of the blue via photopin

copyright Legacy.com  Used with permission

It happened again in my community. A young man died by suicide. No matter how many times it happens, suicide is a sudden, unexpected, and tragic death that leaves the bereaved and the community badly shaken.

The bereaved not only feel the raw grief of sudden loss, but may wrestle with the question, over and over again, “Wasn’t there something I could have done to prevent this?” As one clergy member shares, “It is as unexplainable as a bolt of lightning; more actually, because we all know how to stay safe during a storm.”

Suicide carries a stigma along with mental illness. It is important to keep in mind that mental illness is a disease; a chronic, cruel, and invisible disease that leaves family members isolated and lonely. 
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What can you do to help? Treat the death and the bereaved with compassion, as you would for any death. Suicide is a cause of death and not a source of shame. Your expressions of grief should mirror those you share for any other death.

What to say:

• “I am so sorry for your loss.”
• “I know this is a rough time for you.”
• “I won’t pretend to know how you feel.”
• “If you would like some company, I am here for you anytime.”
• If you knew the deceased, share a quality you admired, such as, “I will miss Alisson’s smile.”
• When you see them, greet them warmly and tell them, “I’m so glad to see you.”

What not to say:

• Do not try to offer a reason for the suicide. There is no way to pinpoint a trauma or specific moment that caused the deceased to make this decision. 
• Don’t ask for details.
• Avoid judgmental statements, such as “It was a selfish act.”
• Don’t avoid the bereaved for fear of saying the wrong thing.
• Don’t disparage the deceased in any way. As one bereaved stated, “My husband was a good man. He just a bad way to die.”

One of the most important things you can do for anyone experiencing a loss is to listen. The bereaved will need to tell their story over and over again to make sense of it. This is an experience that they may not get over, but in time, their feelings will stabilize. Stay the course; you’ll be glad you did.


Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don't Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, now at a reduced price for e-books for "Illness & Death," "Suicide," "Miscarriage," "Death of a Child," "Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby," "Pet Loss," "Caregiver Responsibilities," "Divorce" and "Job Loss." All titles are in Amazon's Kindle Store.

Image Into Infinity via photopin (license)

When someone you care about is grieving, it can be hard to find the right words. Many of us hesitate to say anything to the bereaved, worrying that we’ll say the wrong thing. You don’t have to say much. But whether in person at the funeral, or in a condolence note sent with flowers, it’s important to acknowledge the loss and express your sympathy. The best advice for what to say after a death — keep it simple and speak from the heart.

It can be hard to know what to say to someone who’s experienced loss, but individuals facing loss need to feel they’re not alone. That’s why it is so important to make personal contact.   

When if was going through a particularly difficult time, someone said to me, "I don't know what to say, but this must be very hard for you." It turned out to be exactly the right thing to say as she was demonstrating empathy, acknowledging that even though she had never faced my experience, she understood that it was very difficult.

It’s important to break the silence and acknowledge the loss. Communicate that you are sorry for their loss and, if appropriate, give them a hug, take their hand, or touch their arm. Also important: listening.

Listeners are what mourners need most because it’s through telling our story that we begin to make sense of our loss. Listening supportively isn’t always easy, but it’s the best thing you can do for someone coping with the loss of a loved one.

So how can we listen more effectively with friends and family?

• Remember that to listen well, we need to be silent.
• Make time to visit in person or chat on the telephone. 
• Open with, “I’ve been thinking of you and wanted to see how you are doing today.”
• Listen intently, facing the speaker and making eye contact. Keep a neutral expression. 
• Encourage the conversation by nodding and acknowledging their feelings (“I can understand” or “That must be hard.”) 
• End the conversation by saying, “Let’s talk again soon.” 
  
  

The more you listen, the easier it becomes. And someday, you will need others to listen to you too.


This article was written by Robbie Miller Kaplan for LegacyConnect, Legacy’s grief support center. 
Robbie Miller Kaplan is an author who writes from a unique perspective as a mother who has lost two children. She has written How to Say It When You Don’t Know What to Say, a guide to help readers communicate effectively when those they care about experience loss, now available in three individual volumes: “Illness & Death,” “Suicide” and “Miscarriage.” Additional titles are available as e-books: “Death of a Child,” “Death of a Stillborn or Newborn Baby,” “Pet Loss,” “Caregiver Responsibilities,” “Divorce” and “Job Loss.” All titles are in Amazon’s Kindle Store. Click here to order.​