Feral Feelings
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Illustration by Nhatt Nichols [/caption]
Tears and cheeseburrgers
By Amber Autumn Leaves Huntsman
Dear Feral Feelings,
Maybe it's just what happens when you hit middle age, but it truly feels like everyone I love is in crisis. All of my close friends have either recently lost a parent or had one become very ill, or they are going through a divorce, or both. I'm struggling to support everyone in the way that they need. I'm a natural problem solver, but I get that these aren't problems that can really be solved and I feel useless when faced with so much of other people's grief. Do you have any advice for supporting people who are going through a hard time?
-Feeling useless
Dear Feeling Useless,
Immediately upon reading your question, I was transported to a rainy day in October 2021. I was sitting in the passenger's seat of my friend's car, parked in front of Dick’s in Seattle. I was eating a cheeseburger in silence. My friend sat next to me in the driver's seat, sipping their milkshake. The rain hit the windows, and I was deeply comforted by my friend’s quiet presence. They had picked me up that afternoon from my home, where I’d been in a near catatonic state on my couch. My mother died two days before, and I was having trouble performing even the most mundane tasks, like sleeping, eating, or driving.
My friend was no stranger to grief; they understood that when a loved one has been lost, simple gestures make a big difference for the bereaved. So, they came to my house. They helped me off the couch and into their car. They drove across town, ordered a cheeseburger, and sat next to me while I ate it. There were no words they could say to lessen my grief, no wisdom to impart. There were no actionable steps they could take to relieve the burden of loss. There was only pain, love, and silence.
In my experience, grief has an overbearing, all-encompassing presence. It touches everything, changes everything, it has its own will. My favorite artist, Nick Cave, speaking openly about grief, said in the aftermath of losing two children, “There is a vastness to grief that overwhelms our minuscule selves. We are tiny, trembling clusters of atoms subsumed within grief’s awesome presence. It occupies the core of our being and extends through our fingers to the limits of the universe.”
Powerful and consuming though it is, grieving is a healthy process. Depending on the context, it isn’t necessarily traumatic. Loss can instead be fertile ground from which new life may arise. Grief is many things, Feeling Useless, but it is not a problem to solve. As you notice. You can certainly apply your problem-solving skills in more practical ways, such as organizing meal trains, cleaning up around the house, and tending to logistics your grieving friends may not have the capacity to perform. Practical support can be enormously helpful and should not be ignored.
But, at the same time, many of us do not have the space in our lives to offer that level of support to a grieving friend. Instead, we have an hour here or there for a phone call or coffee. We hold space for our friend’s grief in between work meetings and dinner. Thus, we can feel overwhelmed by the enormity of the grief relative to the space we can make for it. After all, life doesn’t stop just because someone dies or gets divorced.
In terms of advice, Feeling Useless, I can offer the usual- listen, be present, make space. Let the grieving person express their feelings without offering advice, reframing, or imposing too much of your own story. Send beautiful flowers and heartfelt cards, drop off warm meals. Walk their dog. Answer text messages and be available for phone calls as you can. Though I offer this advice, I have a feeling you have done some, if not all, of those things. I get the sense you feel you aren’t doing enough when really, you aren’t recognizing that what you are doing is enough.
Offering help is certainly an expression of love, and also, trying to solve our friends' problems can be a way to make ourselves feel better. Being with someone’s pain is painful for us, too, so we often want to fix that. This is a very human response, but it is futile.
Beyond advice, I encourage you to shift your perspective. Realize that when you show up for a grieving friend, be it over text, a phone call, or an hour stroll on the beach, your presence is immensely helpful. Will those gestures take away your friend's pain? No. But you are helping them live with the pain by making sure they’re not alone with it.
I also invite you to consider that your grieving friends likely have other social support in their lives. Their pain is not your responsibility alone to tend. When I think back to the months after my mother’s death, I recall many friends, not just one, who had a hand in carrying my grief with me. Each friend provided some level of support, and every single kind of support helped, no matter the scale. The support you are providing to your friends is enough. As long as you are loving them, you are helping them- one cheeseburger at a time.
Do you have a problem that you think Feral Feelings could answer? Send them to feralfeelings@jeffcobeacon.com
