Supporting Others
When someone we care about is hurting, struggling, grieving, or facing a major life change, we often want to help—but we don't always know what to say or do.
The most important thing to remember is that everyone will grieve differently so we can’t anticipate or expect their needs, reactions, or visible emotions.
What we can do, is be intentional about how we show up for them and how we let them know we are a support system for them.
It’s okay to say “I don’t know what to say or how to support you, but I want you to know that I am here for you.” This lets the other person know that even if you aren’t saying something, you want to show up for them.
Another really powerful way of showing up for someone is to let them know they don’t need to be a certain way in order to be with you. You can say things like, “I am going to drop off some groceries for you, I can leave them at the front door if you just let me know when you will be home so the food doesn’t go bad?” or if you are inviting them to an event you can say, “ I know things have been heavy for you lately. I would love to have you join us for Thanksgiving dinner, even if its just for a few minutes. The spare bedroom is a private space you can lay down in or just escape to any time during the meal.”
These phrases and comments are letting that person know you see them and want to support them.
A few of my favorite resources:
Nora McInery is one of my favorite speakers on grief. Within six weeks she miscarried her second child, lost her father to cancer, and her husband died from brain cancer. Her speaking and writings have a humorous tone while helping us think about processing our own grief and how we show up for others.
Watch her TED Talk here.
Check her our on Substack here.
Her website also has her podcast and books.
The Crisis and Trauma Resource Institute published a really nice, easy to read article on how we can show up for someone who is grieving. This is an easy read with some get points.
Read it now here.
How others have shown up for me....
When my grandmother died, I was a new Executive Director of a very busy non-profit hospice organization and a single mom to my elementary school-age children. My grandmother had fallen a few days before however the fall happened the night before Thanksgiving, so I was already off of work and hadn’t informed any of my colleagues that she had been rush to the ER, underwent emergency surgery, and was in recovering in our local hospital. When she died two days later, unexpectedly in her sleep still at the hospital, I sent a text to the senior leaders of our organization, who reported to me, and was very matter of fact: “My grandmother passed away last night. We are making plans for the funeral. I will be in on Monday and will then take the rest of the week off.”
These were people I had worked with for barely over a year and 99% of our time together was spent putting out fires at work. We didn’t socialized outside of work, however did make an effort to share aspects of our personal life as we were getting to know each other as colleagues. They knew how important my grandmother was to me and that she was apart of my daily life and the life of my children. What they did in the following days will stay with me for the rest of my life.
No agenda meeting
When I came into work on Monday, I had a standing meeting with a small group of staff who were reporting to me temporarily as the manager position that would normally supervise them was currently open and we were in the interview process. This Monday meeting was our weekly check-in and they prepared an agenda which was generally handed to me as I walked in.
On the Monday after my grandmother’s death, I arrived and there was no agenda. When I asked, slightly annoyed, why there wasn’t an agenda, one of the staff calmly replied, “We don’t need a meeting today. We wanted to just make space for you. If you want this hour back on your calendar to prepare for being off this week please go do that. If you want to just sit and have coffee with us, we welcome that as well.”
Again, I was so touched by the insight and empathy of this group of individuals who barely knew me on a personal level and definently didn’t know my grandmother. Over and over again, my co-workers made it clear they wanted me to only show up as I could, no expectations and endless support around me.
Showing Up
In general, my co-workers showed up me however they were able. Several left cards on my desk. A few board members mailed cards to my home. The organization sent a single yellow rose to the funeral. This was particularly meaningful, as that was our signature flower, which we sent to families of our patients. I had expressed my sadness and regret that my grandmother never got to experience hospice care; that flower felt like my team was still reaching her and sending their loving presence.
And at the funeral, those senior leaders who I sent the original text to, showed up, and had brought the former executive director, my mentor, with them. Watching them all walk in together, with gentle smiles and fierce hugs, made me feel like I could get through anything with their support.
It had never been on my radar that anyone from my professional life would support me through a loss like this but the message they sent with their support was received loud and clear.
Grief Groceries
One of my co-workers texted me immediately and asked what I needed. I thanked her for reaching out but said we were fine. She told me to let her know if I thought of anything; I couldn’t think of what day it was much less what I needed.
The next day I was at work, trying to catch up from being off from the holiday and was also preparing for being off for the week. This same co-worker told me she would be running to Costco after work and could grab food for me if I wanted. I told her we weren’t really eating a lot and everything was so chaotic that I wasn’t planning on cooking anyway. In reality, the thought of making a list of what we needed sounded EXHAUSTING.
Later that evening she texted that she would like to drop a few things off at the front door but didn’t expect me to greet her, she just wanted me to know. When I came to the front door after she had left, I broke down in tears from what I saw. My front step was filled with groceries. I don’t remember everything, but a few items I do remember was a gallon of milk, a bag of apples, a box of cookies, and a “take and bake” pizza.
Over the next week, those groceries held us together. I ate cookies at 2am over my kitchen counter when I couldn’t sleep. My kids made hot chocolate with the milk, their favorite drink, and helped me go through pictures as we prepared for the funeral.
That pizza was the only hot meal I had all week.