logo-image

Be Careful Little Tongue . . .

Lisa Thomas • Jul 11, 2018

A few years ago, I answered a call from someone with the Red Cross.  They were checking to see if we were serving a particular family; a relative of the deceased was serving overseas and they were working with the military to bring him home for the service.  But first they had to verify that there was, indeed, a service.  When I responded in the affirmative, assuring her we were assisting the family and that the death had truly occurred, she said, in a voice about as perky and pleased as you can get, “WONDERFUL!!!”

Really?

I’m pretty sure she didn’t think about how that came across.  Perhaps she had already tried several phone numbers before reaching the correct one, an accomplishment that she felt required a moment of celebration.  Or perhaps she had been successful on the first try and was genuinely excited at having reached the right funeral home.  I really don’t believe she was expressing pleasure at the demise of the poor soul in question . . .

There’s a children’s song that’s been taught in churches for ages that includes the words, “Be careful little tongue what you say . . .”  Unfortunately, too many folks don’t realize those words of wisdom apply in a wide variety of life situations.  Responding to Death and the grieving would definitely be one.  Most of us have enough sense not to come across as gleeful when speaking with the survivors of loss, but there are a number of other responses that can be equally distressing, like condemnation for grieving too long . . . or not long enough  . . . or perhaps for taking a loss too hard  . . . or not hard enough.  We tend to judge the response of others to a situation based on how we think we would respond, but since we’re all totally different people, that approach doesn’t work—unless your intention is to cause even more pain than is already present.

Trite phrases, although they may be time-worn, aren’t helpful either.  They may not be as harmful as implied pleasure (although some are actually worse), but there are better things to say.  Try, “I’m so sorry for the loss of your (fill-in-the-blank with the appropriate relationship)”.  Or perhaps just a handshake or a hug and a “What can I do?”  If you know the person who has died, share a fond memory of them (just be sure you run that one through your head so you’re certain it actually should be shared).  Then be quiet.  Nothing gets us in trouble any faster than thinking we’ve got to keep talking when we’ve said all that needs to be said.  Let the other person speak and follow their lead as to where the conversation goes.

Some folks can operate off the cuff and fare quite well.  The rest of us need to put in some thought beforehand so our words to the grieving don’t make matters that much worse.  Just don’t practice to the point that your condolences become scripted or sound rehearsed.  The demonstration of genuine love and concern for those who are suffering is always a good starting point.  Then let the grieving be your guide.

By Lisa Thomas 17 Apr, 2024
I have a confession to make. There are days when I’ll set the air conditioning on 65 and get the house cold enough to hang meat . . . and then light the fireplace.
By Lisa Thomas 10 Apr, 2024
If you’re a semi-regular reader, then you know I’ve been enduring that right of passage known as “The Packing of Parental Possessions”. For the last several months, the focus has been on cleaning out the apartment they occupied for 30 years . . .
By Lisa Thomas 04 Apr, 2024
When John Jacobs died of pancreatic cancer on October 29, 2005, his family was devastated. The New York defense attorney believed in staying connected to those he cherished the most, something he managed to accomplish by calling them three or four times a day on his beloved Motorola T720 cell phone . . .
By Lisa Thomas 28 Mar, 2024
There’s a place I’m privileged to visit on occasion—a civilized wilderness of sorts—where very few people intrude and my desire for hermitism (not to be confused with hermetism which is a philosophical or religious system based on the teaching of Hermes Trismegistus . . . mine just means I like being left alone) is fulfilled.
By Lisa Thomas 20 Mar, 2024
I am a lover of words and occasionally manage to put them together in a half-way decent manner. Ask me to speak to you spontaneously . . . off the cuff . . . with no preparation . . . and my brain freezes.
By Lisa Thomas 14 Mar, 2024
In a bookcase in the office in Savannah, you’ll find all kinds of books, mostly on grief (which makes perfect sense given that it’s an office in a funeral home).
By Lisa Thomas 07 Mar, 2024
When my daughter was in second grade the music program at her school disappeared. I don’t remember if it was a lack of personnel or a lack of funding or a lack of personnel caused by a lack of funding . . .
By Lisa Thomas 29 Feb, 2024
On November 21st of 2021, I wrote the blog “The Ultimate Reminder” about a gentleman I’d literally known all my life . . . about his acknowledgment that his circle of older family members and friends was rapidly dwindling . . . about how hard it was to watch them leave.
By Lisa Thomas 22 Feb, 2024
Recently local and national news outlets picked up the story of Pauline Pusser’s exhumation, turning it into front page news and lead stories.
By Lisa Thomas 14 Feb, 2024
We didn’t meet under the best of circumstances—I was the funeral director and he was the husband grieving the imminent death of his wife.
More Posts
Share by: