What's Wrong with Them? Understanding That Everyone Grieves Differently
What's Wrong with Them? Part 1
We hear this question often. Sometimes it's whispered under someone's breath. Other times it's said quietly off to the side where they think no one else can hear.
As human beings, we are very good at interpreting what we see, but not always very good at understanding what lies beneath the surface.
More often than not, it sounds something like this:
"She isn't even crying. It's like she doesn't even care."
"He's already back at work like nothing even happened."
"Did you see my sister laughing after the funeral? She's probably happy Mom is gone."
The Danger of Comparing Grief
First, yes, there are times when family relationships have been strained for years. Despite what we'd like to believe, not every family is holding hands and singing "Kumbaya." Some families have experienced years of hurt, distance, or conflict. Next month, I am going to dive a little deeper into family dynamics in Part Two.
Today, I want to talk about the second reason.
The truth is, we often judge another person's grief by comparing it to our own. Sometimes it is easier to point the finger at someone else than it is to deal with our own hurt.
If they're not crying like we are, we assume they don't care.
If they go back to work sooner than we would, we assume they've moved on.
If they laugh at the luncheon, we wonder if they're even grieving at all.
But none of those things necessarily tell us what's happening on the inside. More often than not, they reflect our own perceptions and the tendency to project our unresolved emotions onto someone else.
There Is No Right Way to Grieve
One of the greatest myths surrounding grief is that it has a certain look.
It doesn't.
We want grief to fit neatly into a little box with a bow so we can move on.
The problem is, grief doesn't work that way.
After nearly thirty-five years as a funeral director, I have never met two people who grieve exactly the same way.
Not once.
Some people cry openly.
Others never shed a tear in public.
Some stay busy because sitting still is unbearable.
Others can't find the strength to get out of bed.
Some people talk constantly about the person who died.
Others don't say much at all.
None of those responses automatically tell us how deeply someone loved.
Grief isn't measured by tears.
It's measured by the significance of the loss.
What Grief Really Looks Like
I've watched spouses stand beside a casket without crying, only to break down while signing paperwork to finalize the monument several months later.
I've watched children play tag at a funeral luncheon, only to ask heartbreaking questions like, "Why can't Daddy come to my games anymore?"
I've watched people laugh through stories about their loved one because, for a few moments, remembering brought joy instead of tears.
None of those responses are wrong.
Grief doesn't follow a schedule, and it certainly doesn't follow our expectations.
That isn't denial.
It's survival.
The next time you find yourself wondering, "What's wrong with them?" maybe ask a different question:
"What might they be carrying that I simply can't see...and how can I help?"
Sincerely,
Mike O'Connell
O'Connell Family Funeral Homes
