Parents

What not to say to grieving parents

/ edebock / 10 Comments

This has been a very tough week. Young friends of ours were involved in a tragic accident that took the life of one of their children. Two others are still in critical condition. Immediately after the accident occurred, we were called and asked to go to the hospital because, as parents who lost a child a long time ago, “you will know what to do.”

What do you do in a situation like that? What do you say? We went, but we said very little. There really are no words that are adequate at a time like that. A hug, a gentle touch, or even just your presence might be all that is needed.

Sometimes even the most well-intentioned words can be hurtful, so here are a few things not to say to a grieving parent.

  1.  “I know how you feel.” No, you don’t! Regardless of how close you are or even if you’ve lost a child yourself, you can’t know how another person feels.
  2. “She’s in a better place.” Even if you believe that to be true, it doesn’t address the parent’s tremendous sense of loss. A parent wants their child to be right here, right now.
  3. “God must have needed another angel.” First of all, that’s theologically unsound. People don’t become angels when they die and even if they did, according to Revelation 5:11 God has “thousands upon thousands” of angels. He doesn’t need another one. 
  4. “Everything happens for a reason.” What possible comfort could that be to a parent who has lost a child?
  5. “At least you have other children.” or “You can always have another child.” While these statements might be true, one child can never replace another. 
  6. “Be thankful for the time you had with him.” Unless the parent expresses this sentiment themselves, it’s not appropriate to tell them how they should feel. 
  7. “Call me if there’s anything I can do.” While this is a generous thought, asking for help is difficult at the best of times and a parent in the midst of profound grief might not even know what they need. Instead, look for something specific that you can to do, then offer or if it’s appropriate, simply go ahead and do it.
  8. Finally, try not to make suggestions about what you think they should or shouldn’t do. As Ernest Hemingway once said, “In our darkest moments, we don’t need advice.”

Do offer sincere condolences. It’s enough to simply say, “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Don’t be afraid to show emotion and as time goes by, don’t hesitate to mention the child by name and to share favourite memories of him. 

Lastly, remember that the old adage “time heals all wounds” is not true. While the intense pain of immediate loss does soften with time, a parent’s heart never truly heals. We don’t “get over” our loss, we simply learn to live with it.  

Caught in the club sandwich squeeze!

/ edebock / 9 Comments

“Club sandwich generation” is a relatively new term used to describe the “squeezed” generation, usually between the ages of 55 and 64, who typically find themselves caring for elderly parents while at the same time providing support for adult children and helping care for grandchildren. As more and more people live into their 80s and 90s, the number of four generation families is increasing rapidly and it’s usually the second generation in these families who have the time and resources to deal with unexpected events and crises in the lives of the other three.

My sister and I presently find ourselves smack dab in the middle of this kind of family sandwich. Along with our brother, who is not yet a grandparent, we’re dealing with the escalating needs of our increasingly frail and vulnerable parents. The fact that they don’t live in the same province as the three of us adds to the difficulty.

I’m very grateful that our three children are self-sufficient and require very little help from us. The two that have children of their own don’t depend on us for childcare as we live four hours away from the closest one. When we do visit, we consider it a privilege to babysit the grandchildren so that their parents can enjoy an evening out.

The club sandwich squeeze has been much tighter than usual lately though. As I mentioned in a previous post, my 91-year-old diabetic mother, who suffers from severe dementia, was hospitalized about a month ago suffering from a gangrenous toe. As a family, we made the agonizing decision not to put her through surgery. Due to lack of circulation in her leg, it would have required amputation above the knee. There was no guarantee that she’d survive the operation and if she did, there was every likelihood that the other leg would soon be in the same condition. Instead, as hard as it was, we chose palliative care and when we came to Calgary for the birth of our newest grandson, I packed knowing that we might have to fly to Vancouver for a funeral. Fortunately, Mom is doing much better than expected and was even able to move back to her care facility at the beginning of last week. My sister, who’d been in Vancouver for most of the past month, flew home on Wednesday and we breathed a sigh of relief. That lasted about 24 hours!

The next afternoon when I phoned Dad to share the exciting news of Simon’s birth, he sounded terrible. What had been a fairly minor cold had moved into his chest. Within hours, he was rushed to hospital by ambulance. Arriving in respiratory failure, he was immediately put on a ventilator and our oldest son, who lives in Vancouver, rushed over to the hospital to be with him. In club sandwich families like ours, it’s Matt’s generation that provides the other layer of filling. We are so fortunate that Matt is willing and able to jump in in a crisis situation when none of us is close by. In this case, we didn’t know if Dad would make it through the night. Again, I wondered if we’d be flying out for a funeral.

Thankfully, Dad seems to be rallying and if all goes well, he could be home from the hospital sometime next week. This time, it will probably be my brother who flies out to be with him for a little while. I would go but I have to plan around my treatment schedule and until we get the results of the biopsy that I had last week, it’s difficult to do even that. It’s hard enough being part of the club sandwich generation but having cancer has complicated the situation and added to our present squeeze!