On being the Grievor and the Consoler

Two close friends each lost their mothers this last week.

The first call came last Saturday evening. The second call came Sunday afternoon. Each knew death was imminent, and each family was preparing in its own way. Still, the pain of losing someone so close to you is beyond words.

That's part of the reason I'm addressing both the role of the Grievor and the Consoler this week. I'm not sure which is more uncomfortable. It's because Death is such an uncommon routine to most of us. When it happens, we don't know how to act or how to console. Whichever shoes you find yourself in, it's good to have a plan.

Now, my two friends are quite different. One follows religion and the other doesn't. Both, however, are following their own private rituals in order to heal their hearts. I, as the consoler, stayed present and emotionally available for both of them this week.

In the case of my first friend who is an observant Jew, he and his family are finding tremendous comfort in following the rituals of the religion. Judaism has very definite ways by which the deceased is not only prepared for burial, but also mourned following the services. It's from observing these practices myself that I've found it so important to encourage others to explore some branch of organized religion.

People find tremendous comfort in being surround by their family, their friends and their community. Religion--whatever Faith you practice--offers a roadmap toward healing. If you have not explored or recently participated in a religious community, I hope you'll consider it as an option. We are not meant to go through Life alone.

That's why, in the case of my second friend, I encouraged him to organize a memorial service of some kind to celebrate his mother's life. His mother specified that she did not want a burial service, so her children have made private arrangements for her body.

By not having a ritual in place, however, my friend and his sister were left a little uncertain as to how to confront their grief as well as the friends and family who also were feeling the loss. I encouraged them to consider having an Open House Memorial at their mother's home. Just like my first friend who would be surrounded by family and friends who loved his mom and loves him.

"Don't worry about the food," I said. "There'll be plenty of food!" It doesn't seem to matter what culture, what religion, everyone shares the love of comfort food. In both cases, my friends were smothered with love, hugs, good food, old stories, new stories, and their mother's houses were so crowded and noisy that I wondered if their mom wasn't around the corner laughing and crying with the rest of us.

Death is not comfortable--now should it be--for the Grievor or the Consoler, but when the time comes, there's no getting out of it. Neither the Grievor nor the Consoler needs to say much. Sometimes a hug says it all.

Most of all, map out a ritual so that you don't have to improvise while you're in a heightened state of emotion. You don't have to have every detail figured out, but have a framework of a plan in place that will help you and others begin the healing process.

This week, I write in memory of Martha and Corinne--two extraordinary women who influenced my life with their smiles, their good cooking, their passionate approach to life, and most of all, their precious sons who will always be two of my best friends. Hugs Guys!