Comments on: Speechless

By: dusty

dusty — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 19:55:17 +0000

I stunbled on this quite unexpectedly and found myself pulled in by all the wonderful comments and replies to the question of ‘what to say?’
I am a single mother, breast cancer survivor, growing hair and pushing forward. Everyone has tales of horror to share with any kind of battle they go through – the struggle itself or dealing with insensitive -but well-meaning comments… I am blessed with a wonderful group of friends who became my guardians of the gate. They kept the ward and everyone else informed of my needs, my state-of-mind and state-of-being so I didn’t have to cope with that. They literally guarded my home and kept nosey gossips away, and they sat with me while I laughed or cried or just needed someone to hug.
The comments such as ‘great to see you’ ‘how does it feel’ and so on, are absolutely wonderful. I can’t possibly improve on those, but I would like to share some of the things my students said that made me feel incredible!
First day back to school with my suction machine in place and baggy clothes to hide the in-process reconstruction: ‘hey miss! you really should about updating that wardrobe! We’re gonna call you a skater!’
‘Miss – can we still hug you?’
‘Oh wow, does it still hurt?’
Later, when I was losing my hair, I had the beautician just shave it off and my kids thought it was the coolest ever – a couple shaved their heads too. That meant more than any words anyone could have said. To be fair, a couple of my adult support group offered to shave theirs too, but I felt that was going too far.
I guess the point I’m heading for is this: the honesty of my students was probably the best thing for me – no teary-eyed sympathy (although there were tears), no gushy stuff, just a lot of to-the-point comments that acknowledged I was going through a miserable time and then we moved on. There is always someone around who wants to dig for the dirt and wrench details out of you – if you are the friend of someone going through something horrific or trying, let THEM make the move to tell their sad story. You be the sunrise and rainbow – it is so important.

By: Sage

Sage — Fri, 21 Aug 2009 03:43:58 +0000

Thanks for all the great advice. I will try the “It’s great to see you” next time I see my friend who recently finished her chemo.

To anon: this is a wonderful group of women–and they are your friends! Just keep coming back. Faithful and supportive. My favorite place to go–especially if I’m feeling low.

By: anon

anon — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 23:28:53 +0000

It is so refreshing to read all of your comments, especially to know that you are wonderful supportive friends. It is rare to see so many compassionate people who are willing to uplift their suffering friends. I wish I had more people like you in my life.

By: Jennifer

Jennifer — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 20:14:36 +0000

In my experience, this is the time to listen. You don’t have anything right to say until you understand how she is feeling (emotionally, spiritually, etc.) and what she needs. Probably what she needs from you is just love. I think listening gives a lot of love, and you’ll learn about her other needs by listening too.

By: Michelle

Michelle — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 01:54:12 +0000

Wow. I was going to write my own little bit of advice, based on my experiences after losing my baby boy two years ago. But after reading what is already here, I am so impressed that I don’t think I will.
Joy Lensky in particular has a gem. I will try to remember that for when I want to know what to say to someone in a painful situation. That still would be a wonderful question for me to hear.
Okay, now I did think of one particular thing that has helped me. When someone was completely honest with their feelings about my loss, without trying at all to help me feel better, that’s what helped.
For example:
“I cried when I heard about your baby.” (that was from one of the Primary kids).
“I think if that happened to me I would kill myself.” (from a German friend)
If I had never been through the experience, I never would have guessed such words could be comforting. But to know that others cried when I cried, and that the feelings I was having of no longer wanting to live were understandable and mentionable, really helped.
So, I guess my advice is. . . honesty. Don’t try to glaze over the loss. Nothing at all can make such things hurt less than they just do. But offering your honest feelings with love shows that your heart hurts right along with hers.

By: Heather

Heather — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 23:47:49 +0000

I’ve never had cancer before, but when I’ve gone through difficulties I have really appreciated others love and sincerity.

During a miscarriage, my sister in law’s very sincere “I have no idea whatthe right thing is to say here, but I really want you to know that I’m sorry and I love you.” was so healing. It was her love that I was craving and that came through so clearly. The words really didn’t matter.

By: Angela T.

Angela T. — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 20:18:14 +0000

Recently I have learned that offering ‘perspective’ is typical for members during trialing times. This is when people give proverbs often found on vinyl signs at Deseret Book like ‘no one ever said it would be easy- just worth it!’ or ‘families are forever.’ You know, just trying to give you “perspective” to the situation you are already fully immersed in.

Big No-no.

Just listen when your friend wants to talk and write a note that says you are thinking about her. Seriously, five words that do wonders for the spirit:
Today, I’m thinking about you.

It’s the “balm.”

By: Melanie

Melanie — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 20:05:39 +0000

This sounds like a fun book – just like the others I have. I’ll have to order this one if I don’t win. . . . keeping my fingers crossed!!

By: joylenskey

joylenskey — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 17:52:04 +0000

VALIDATING WORDS:

“What’s it like?”

After 20 years of MS, my girlfriend Anne has only heard these words one time–the most validating thing anyone had ever said to her. She told me approximately this:

Asking “How are you doing” seems to imply “how well are you coping?” It puts the person on the spot, pressured to be competent. To be “fine” instead of needy.

But asking “what’s it like” allows the other person to describe the hard parts of the challenge in a more objective, impersonal way. It sort of acknowledges that the trial is separate from you personally. People can still respond casually if they want to (“not too bad”) but it opens the door for them to say, “you know, it’s really, really hard” without saying “I’m not DOING WELL.” It allows them to be an authority on their own experience. It allows the asker to learn.

“What’s it like to have M.S.?”
“what’s it like for you at the end of a day?”
“What’s it like to lose a parent?”
etc…

Thanks for the post and open comments!

By: EmilyH

EmilyH — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 15:24:17 +0000

I always just ask people what they’d like. Basically say, “I’m at a loss of words. I am thinking and praying for you often. I care and want to help in anyway possible.” And ask what she wants you to do. Talk to her about or not talk to her about it; that sort of thing.