Despite medical breakthroughs and longer life expectancy, many diagnoses are still frightening. And it can be hard to know how to communicate with a patient and their loved ones. That’s what happened to a friend. Her best friend’s mom was diagnosed and treated for cancer. Things were on an even keel and then the cancer came back. The best friend isn’t willing to discuss it and my friend wonders what’s appropriate to say or do for the mom? When you don’t know how things stand and someone isn’t open to discussing it, what are your options?

A personal note is a kind and nonintrusive way to let someone know you care. It gives you the ability to reach out and allows the patient the opportunity to decide whether they want to pursue any further contact. Whatever the outcome, you’ve delivered your message.

So what do you say to someone dealing with a difficult illness? You say you care, for example:

Dear Mrs. Peters,

I’ve thought of you often these last few months. I haven’t wanted to intrude, but wanted you to know how much I care for you. I will continue to keep you in my thoughts and prayers and hope for the very best outcome.

With much warmth,

Cindy

​​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
​

My grandma died at 97 and I was heartbroken. It was partially because she helped raise me and I adored her, but it was also unexpected.

“Unexpected?” you might say, and some people did. But she did not die at an age that was the norm for her generation. She had outlived so many peers and younger relatives, I was sure she would live to be 100, and I was disappointed that she did not.

What difference should it make how old someone is when they die? Shouldn’t we extend to the bereaved the same sympathy and level of support, no matter how old or young the deceased?

In retrospect, I did not get much sympathy when my grandma died. One colleague said upon hearing of her death and her age, “Didn’t you expect her to die Robbie?”

Just because someone has lived a long life, does that mean the loss is any less painful? No matter how old someone is when they die, the bereaved deserve the same consideration you would extend to anyone who has lost a loved one. Age doesn’t diminish the pain of loss and the mourning process is still the same.

​Photo courtesy of author

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
​

My mother was a wise woman and a wonderful teacher. While we shared a lifetime of learning, it was not until her death that I realized she forgot one important lesson: She never told me how to live without her.

I’m not alone. Even though the death of a parent is the natural order of things, everyone I know has struggled with the death of a parent. Whether the relationship is a good one or bad, we never seem to be ready to lose them, no matter their age or ours.
 
It was the death of my dearest friend that spurred me to begin thinking of my own death. At the cemetery following my friend’s funeral my daughters asked, “Is this the cemetery where you would like to be buried?” As my husband and I had not had this discussion, it was a good place to start. We chose to respond to our daughters by asking them what they wanted. “Will you visit a grave site?” we asked, and “Do you want us buried in a place where you can come and grieve?”

In the following weeks, I began to explore funeral and burial options and ask myself the hard questions. For instance: What kind of life do I want my children to have when I am no longer with them? I knew that I do not want my children to feel as lost as I did when my own mother died.  

And so, my family began a series of discussions on a topic that one daughter calls, “The sad stuff.” Whatever it might be called, I am undeterred. There are decisions to be made on cremation services, niches versus cemetery plots, and the merits of a variety of burial/funeral fees. Our talks gravitate towards my wishes should my spouse survive me to thoughts and feelings about a range of topics. I want my daughters to understand and embrace that life should be lived without regret. And to accept that the world will continue and so will they, even when I am no longer by their side.
​
There never is a good time to talk about death and yet I have seen the chaotic aftermath when the topic is avoided and feelings are left unsaid. I have chosen a different route for my family. My children now know how I feel and they will not be left with a burden of decisions to ponder when I am gone. It’s also freed up my mind to better embrace and enjoy the rest of my life.  


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 AnaRusso via photopin

Copyright www.legacy.com  Used with permission

Lending an ear might be the kindest thing you can do for someone grieving a loss. A week after my friend’s baby died, her mother-in-law appeared at her door. My friend told her she wasn’t up for a visit, but her mother-in-law assured her she would just sit and keep her company. And that’s what she did. She sat quietly in a chair near my friend. After a while, she fixed them some tea. My friend now relates that this visit was one of the kindest things anyone did after her baby’s death.

When we are mourning the loss of a loved one, we have a myriad of strong emotions; to heal, we need to articulate them. Grief seems to take over our bodies, and our feelings are neither orderly nor coherent. In this state, it’s quite common to repeat ourselves.

What mourners need most are listeners, and it can be hard to find them. We are a society of talkers, and impatient ones at that. When we hear a story the second or third time, we tend to lose patience with the speaker. And yet it’s in telling our story, over and over again, that we begin to make sense of it

So how can we more effectively listen and be present in a conversation with our friends and loved ones so they will open up and share their emotions?

• For starters, acknowledge that listening is a skill and like any other skill it requires practice to become proficient.

• While our nature is to talk, accept that to listen effectively, we need to be silent.

• Make a date to visit in person or chat with the bereaved on the telephone.

• Open the conversation with, “I’ve been thinking of you and wanted to see how you are doing today.”

• Now listen; you can prod the conversation along by nodding if you are in person or encouraging the conversation by acknowledging their feelings with, “I can understand,” or “that must be hard.”

• Listen intently by facing the speaker, leaving your hands in your lap, and making eye contact. Keep a neutral expression as you follow the conversation.

• Bear in mind that listening is the best gift you can give the bereaved.

• End the conversation without awkwardness 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.  

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.

Adapted from legacy.com

If you are thinking 2020 feels like a natural disaster,  you are not alone. Fires and hurricanes are dominating the news, and it’s easy to feel helpless in the wake of such large-scale tragedy. In this technology-driven world, we’re witnessing breaking news; reading, seeing and hearing first-hand how these disasters personally impact individuals and communities. Who can forget the faces of the heroes, community members, friends and family providing needed and necessary help to those in desperate need? Those interviewed after losing their loved ones, homes, schools and places of employment break our hearts.
​
We’ve witnessed acts of courage, heroism and extensions of human kindness, but with such disaster, it’s hard to know what to say and do. Here are some ideas and thoughts on how to lend support following a natural disaster:

1. Empathy goes a long way in responding to such a catastrophe and Zig Ziglar said it best: “You never know when a moment and a few sincere words can have an impact on a life.” When you interact with survivors, volunteers, or anyone impacted by the disaster, acknowledge the loss and share your sadness. People feel comforted knowing you care.
2. Offer safe shelter. If you have room and know someone who has lost their home and has no place to go, sharing your space is a blessing. As reported on national news, a family whose home was intact invited strangers from a shelter to share their home. There are heartwarming stories of neighbors taking in neighbors and friends finding refuge with other friends. For more information on how you can open your home to those in need or how to help someone find emergency accommodations.
3. Towels and clean clothing are in demand (but confirm before sending) as well as baby diapers and wipes. So many survivors left their homes with nothing but the clothing on their backs. There will be a long-term need for comfortable clothing and sundry items. Watch the news programs and the media to see what else will be needed in the coming days. Check your local newspapers or the local government websites to find ways to help or the Red Cross offers ways to donate and volunteer.
4. Communicate your availability. There is a tremendous need for volunteers within these hard-hit communities. National Voluntary Organizations Active in Disasters has an extensive list with links to their national  members who need volunteers and donations.
5. One of the most expedient ways to help is by making a donation, but be wary of scams. The United States Government has a list on How to Help Survivors of Disaster. It’s safe to choose well-known national disaster relief organizations or use those recommended and listed on the websites of national news organizations or your local newspaper.
6. What can you do on a more personal level? If you are interacting with survivors, listen; allow them to cry or talk. Sharing their story, often over and over again, is a way for them to begin to make sense of what has happened as well as working through the healing process. If a survivor asks you for specific help, do your best to fulfill their wishes.
7. Don’t forget the children; they’ll need extra help in dealing with the aftermath of disasters. Tragic Times, Healing Words was originally prepared by Sesame Street Research for 9/11, but it offers relevant suggestions and guidelines for parents and caregivers on how to help children after a crisis. 

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, available in ebooks 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.
​

A neighbor wonders, “Is it too late to send a condolence note six months after a death?” I’m not aware of a statute of limitations when it comes to condolence notes, but how late is too late? Is it appropriate to send a note six months or even one year after a death?

One bereaved friend says it is never too late to express your condolences. “Your loved one is in your heart and mind every day and it is comforting to know that someone else is also thinking of them.”

Treat each case individually. Have you known about the death for many months and procrastinated? Or, did you just learn of a death, for example a high school or college friend, and wish to contact the parents or sibling(s)? Evaluate each case on its own merit. You might ask yourself, “What is it I want to say and what makes me want to reach out?”

The following example is a belated sympathy note you might write for a former classmate that died seven months ago:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Hiller,

Please accept my apology for this delayed note, but I just learned of Paul’s death. I was unaware he was ill and I’m terribly saddened to hear of his untimely death. You both have my deepest sympathy.

Paul was an extraordinarily special person who touched many lives. I was so lucky to have him as a roommate freshman year and he made my transition to college much easier. We supported each other through many challenges and I’ll always be grateful for the integral part Paul played in my life.

Despite living on opposite coasts, Paul and I managed to retain our friendship and when we had time to spend together, it was if no time had elapsed between visits. I will miss our conversations and visits, but cherish all my memories.

You were wonderful parents and I always enjoyed your campus visits. You and Paul made a difference in my life and I will continue to keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

Warm regards,

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, available in ebooks 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.

In the aftermath of her daughter’s death, my friend Isabel’s memory is hazy. She recalls friends surrounding her: they called, sent flowers, prepared meals, made donations, and attended the memorial service. And then silence. In the ensuing weeks, it took all her energy to assume fragments of her routine. Isabel said she exhausted her reserve and could not muster the energy to reach out. Her husband, while shouldering shared responsibilities, felt depleted as well. As Isabel began to comprehend the enormity of her loss, she felt alone.

Isabel has plenty of company as other bereaved parents share similar stories. Most report an overwhelming wave of support during the initial period when the newly bereaved are protected by shock and can barely register their loss. When the numbness wears off and it is time to mourn, friends are sparse. The bereaved might find it hard to find others to share their grief and this is the time when loneliness sets in.  

While many bereaved face the same dilemma, it can be particularly acute for bereaved parents. The death of a child is particularly tragic. It is unexpected and shocking, totally out of the natural order of things.  

Bereaved parents lament not just the disappearance of old friends, but the pain of losing them. They don’t understand why some friends can’t stand beside them in their hour of need. One bereaved parent explains it best: "Some people don't want to feel what we're feeling."

This comment hit home as it happened to me. In one particularly painful exchange, a colleague’s husband told us he had a meeting scheduled the morning of our daughter’s funeral. He could have rescheduled, but was so uncomfortable with the idea of going to a baby’s funeral that he chose not to attend.  

While I, too, lost friends after my children’s deaths, there were friends who stayed the course and embraced the wisdom of Irish statesman Edmund Burke: "The true way to mourn the dead is to take care of the living who belong to them." The friend you thought would be there may not, but someone else you never expected might step into their place. Embrace them and as gracefully as you can, let the others go. The changing nature of friendship is another facet of the mourning cycle.

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, available in ebooks 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.

About 10 to 15 percent of pregnancies end in miscarriage, according to the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists. Some suggest it is even higher as some miscarriages occur before the mom even knows she’s pregnant. Despite this high frequency, bereaved parents share that far too many friends and loved ones fail to say appropriate things and some, not knowing what to say or worse, minimizing the loss, just stay away. But it’s important to remember that a miscarriage is a death in the family and should be treated as such.

When friends and loved ones do provide caring support, they tend to focus on the mom, thinking she is the one who carried the baby and she is the one having to deal with a physical recovery. But dads grieve for the loss of their baby too.

Miscarriages happen so quickly. One minute you are a mom and dad to be; the next moment you are grieving. Many dads report that they are just as devastated as their wives after a miscarriage. But men don’t have the same friendships and support networks that women have so while their wives may find a circle of support, the dads often find themselves alone and outside the circle. To make matters worse, we tend to think that men should be the strong ones so friends and loved ones often suggest to the dad that he be strong and ensure that he’s providing his wife needed solace.

So what can you do to help a dad following a miscarriage?

Don’t forget them or assume they are not grieving for the loss of their baby. Acknowledge and validate their loss.

1. Don’t isolate the dad. Ensure that you include both the mom and dad in your condolences and support.
2. When you give the mom a hug, give the dad one too. He needs to be consoled as well.
3. Don’t tell the dad to be strong for his wife. Encourage him to articulate his feelings and let him know that real men grieve too.
4. Invite the dad out whether it’s a sporting occasion, coffee, a meal, or a drink. Give him an opportunity to talk and even if he decides he doesn’t want to, he’ll feel your support.

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.
​​

The words sympathy and empathy are often thought to be the same, and yet they are distinct expressions.

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.
​​

​Most people would like some help when it's  time to write a sympathy note. As one friend puts it, "It’s very difficult to figure out what to say to someone experiencing such deep sorrow."

The bereaved do appreciate the caring sentiment these notes convey and they play an essential role in communicating our condolences. While it’s important to craft a comforting message, it feels as if there is too much emphasis placed on a written note rather than the personal extension of condolences and support extended to the bereaved.

Many bereaved share how touched they are by notes and personal remembrances from friends, loved ones, neighbors, and colleagues. These messages are often savored, read, and re-read during the period of mourning. But the bereaved also share that the most meaningful expressions of sympathy are often verbal and face-to-face communications in the weeks and months following a death. This is a sad and often lonely period when physical presence is often scarce.

So instead of placing so much importance on a sympathy note, let’s focus our attention on being present in the life of the bereaved, well past the early weeks following a loved one’s death. Do write a meaningful note, sign an online guest book, and post on a Facebook page, sharing your stories and old photos that make the deceased present once again to those who loved and cherished them. But don’t stop there. The pandemic has made everyone feel isolated, and the bereaved more so. Send a “thinking of you” card, a personal note, an email message, a text, or a Facebook poke. Phone to check in and see how they are doing. Suggest a date for a social-distance walk, coffee, visit, or meal. Invite them to join you for a picnic or dinner at an appropriate place. 

Caring condolence notes are a great start, but once they’re mailed, your job isn’t done. Let your thoughtfulness extend beyond the written word and your kindness will make a profound difference.

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.
​
​
Adapted from legacy.com All rights reserved.