Mourn with those who mourn.

It’s been a very long time since I’ve written a blog post.  I’m not even sure if I can remember how to log onto my blog.  If you’re reading this, I figured it out.  I’m writing again because there is something pressing on my mind and on my heart.  It’s how we talk about death, especially how we communicate on social media. 

It’s typical that a death is announced to friends via social media.  I understand the convenience of that.  News travels faster, and the grieving family doesn’t have to repeat the story over and over via telephone conversations.  Social media can be very helpful, but it can also be very shallow, and responses can be hurried, hackneyed, and even trite.

Part of the reason for quick and seemingly careless responses is that our modern means of communication often lack sincerity and longevity of thought.  A quick text or comment, and one can check it off the list.  Really, though, I think most of us have much kinder intentions that go unexpressed.  We want to offer a word of comfort, but we don’t know how to do it.  So, a quick platitude pops out into cyberspace.

At my age, I’m finding more occasions to offer comfort to friends and family as loved ones near their deaths.  The time has even come for me to consider how this situation will affect me.  After spending a long time pondering what is comforting to me and what is not comforting to me, I will attempt to express my thoughts.  I realize that my comforts may be different from yours.  That is all right.  We each see things through our own filters.

My filter is one of strong faith.  I know that life does not end at death, but, rather, the venue changes.  Our mortal body lies down for a while, and our spirit goes to heaven.  It is a separation, but it is only temporary.  Because of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, every one of us, believer and nonbeliever, will rise from the grave, spirit and body reunited never to separate again.  Illness, pain, and physical suffering of every kind will have an end.

While physical pain has and end, there are good things that will not end.  That leads me to my first complaint about typical death conversation.  We often hear, “She was a good woman.”  Or, “he had many talents.”  As soon as someone dies, we speak of him or her in the past tense.  Please, don’t!  If you wish, speak of her pains and infirmities in the past tense.  They are gone forever, but all that was good about her in mortal life is still good!  Even though she may now be in heaven and invisible to you, she is still a good woman.  He still has many talents.  All that we have learned stays with our spirits when we die. 

Perhaps an even bigger complaint that grinds on my heart every time I hear it is, “I’m sorry for your loss.”  Please don’t say that to me when I’m grieving.  Be sorry for my grief, my pain, my loneliness, and my sorrow.  I will want to hear that from you.  I will want you to validate my heartache, I truly will, but the deceased loved one is not lost.  She is known to God and at home.  It is true that companionship may be lost for awhile.  Separation is very hard.  In fact, the hurt never really goes away, but please, my dear one is not lost.  I am not lost.  My faith is not lost, and my God is most certainly not lost to me even when I hurt.

Let me talk when I hurt.  I might not want to hear your family death stories just now.  We can talk about shared memories of the departed loved ones that remind us of happy times, if that helps the heartache.  Sit with me, walk with me, pray with me, or just hold my hand when my tears come.  Tears will come at times when it is not convenient to spill them.  Hold my hand anyway.  Don’t tell me not to cry.  My intellectual knowledge and my emotions may not stay in step with each other for some time.  I’m not depressed.  I’m not crazy or unstable.  I’m human.  You are, too.

Death is a part of life, it is true, but it’s not usually an easy part.  Many of you who will read this have walked with me before during other trials and challenges.  I know you will be at my side again.  I wish I could tell you how much that means to me, but I can’t.  I know that immortality is the future for each of us.  Remind me of that.  Read the scriptures with me and remind me that God is with me.  I know He is, and I never doubt it.  Remind me that I find peace in my temple service and in the sweet hugs of my grandchildren.  Hearts can hurt, but they can and will fill again with joy as we love and heal together until the day comes when there will be no more good-byes.