"I've come to hate the words there are no words, mainly because so many people said exactly those words to me when my older son Rob took his own life. It amazes me that people used words to say that there aren't any. I knew what they were trying to convey-that it's impossible to articulate the depth of their sadness or to imagine the unimaginable heartache of losing a child. I get it because I used to be one of those people."
"After reading a ton of books on grief and consulting ChatGPT, I know that "I'm sorry for your loss" is the go-to sentiment on the menu of comforting responses to someone who has lost a loved one, followed by "If there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to ask." Whenever someone said that to me, I always wanted to answer, "Paint my house!"-the punchline to one of my father-in-law's favorite old jokes. (RIP, Mart!)"
"My friend Steve, whose son Gabe died of an accidental overdose a few years ago, sometimes helps people out with their commiseration attempts by cutting them off before things get too awkward. He calls this play an "interception." "I'm going to stop you right there," he'll say. "I appreciate your kind condolences." And then he'll nod curtly, signaling an end to the conversation."
Many bereaved parents find phrases like 'there are no words' and 'I'm sorry for your loss' infuriating because such responses use words to declare speech impossible. Familiar condolences fail to express the unimaginable pain of losing a child, leaving survivors unable to register comfort. Repeated polite offers such as 'If there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to ask' feel vague and useless; practical, specific help is more meaningful. Some grieving parents cut off awkward sympathy exchanges quickly to avoid prolonged discomfort. The intense, solitary nature of child loss means that even well-meaning expressions can feel hollow and exasperating.
Read at Psychology Today
Unable to calculate read time
Collection
[
|
...
]