Layered with Grief and Understanding
Recently fellow storytellers and I learned of the traumatic brain injury of the youngest son of one of our guild members. Mom, Dad and family waited by the hospital bedside of their son and brother who was hooked up to life support. Would his condition get better or worsen? The medical staff offered little hope.
Naturally each person of our guild responded with different words. All kind and thoughtful, and many offered to pray.
The son’s condition, and that of his family, weighed on my spirit all week. I wanted to do more, but prayer was bigger than anything any of us could do. Barb, fellow storyteller, was feeling that way too and was willing to engage in a prayer session via Zoom.
We learned of the plan for organ donation, according to their son’s wishes. A member of our congregation assured me that the Trillium Foundation—that oversees donations and connections to the family—would be with them along the way. I shared that message with my friend, the mom in this family.
On Monday life-giving organs—liver and kidneys—were transplanted into matching recipients. After the organs were secured, the family could make funeral arrangements.
What do you say to people going through this kind of trauma? How do you support them best?
When I worked as one of six authors on the manuscript for Good Grief People, we included a list of positive actions for readers to take into consideration with friends or family they want to support. Since then I’ve learned more—not to ask a grieving family to make decisions. Offer assistance, but don’t ask what they need.
“I
don’t know your grief, but I’m here to listen.” As gently as possible and at
the right time. The family may wish to engage in grief counselling or may
prefer to talk with someone who’s gone through a similar situation. On their own time. Grief ought not to be rushed through.
I sent two private messages to my friend during this time about people praying. My friend thanked me. Having a faith in God, she understands about prayer.
At
this time, showing up for the visitation or funeral will be a way of caring. It
may be that my presence is all she needs right now. And perhaps a pot of soup
in the next week as well.
Carolyn Wilker is an author, editor and storyteller in southwestern Ontario.
