“It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart.” (Ecclesiastes 7:2)
A good friend is nearing the final days of life, and we don’t know what to say; another friend is taking care of a loved one who is near death, and we don’t know whether we should intrude upon their privacy in these final days; a family has experienced a tragic and unexpected death and we are at a loss for how to be of comfort.
What to say? What to do? How to console others during inconsolable times? These are the most difficult and most human questions we can face. The difficulty of knowing how to be of comfort or they fear of saying or doing the wrong thing may prevent some of us from reaching out to friends who are experiencing serious illness, who are in the final stages of life, or who are supporting loved ones as they die.
There is no rulebook or etiquette guide to precisely navigate these tender moments. There is no standard set of phrases or gestures that will make everything better. But there are things we can do to bring comfort to those who are suffering. Please consider:
• The Greek word for comfort is parakaleo, which means “to call to the side of” or “to call near.” This ancient meaning suggests that comfort entails physical presence and proximity. You need not fear visiting those who are gravely ill, or their caregivers. Visits are often a tremendous comfort for the family; your physical presence in itself can be the most important source of support. Your visit need not be long to make a difference. This is true even when it does not appear that the person who is ill is aware of your presence; remember that hearing is often the very last sense to fade. It may be wisest to call ahead; if you do, be sure the family knows you will not stay long and are willing to help with whatever they need.
• Simplicity is better than extravagance. As an individual approaches the final days of life, she and her family actually require very little in the way of material things. Large floral displays, robes, blankets, books, magazines – these things are now probably past their usefulness. You need not fear coming empty-handed; if you feel you must bring something to the home make it something small and simple, unless the family has asked for something specific.
• Be prepared to allow silence. Out of nervousness or awkwardness, we sometimes seek to fill every moment with unnecessary words. Sometimes the most comforting thing you can do is to sit with an exhausted caregiver and rub her shoulders, or sit at the bedside of a dying friend and hold her hand. Follow the family’s behavior and preferences; some families use the final hours of a loved one’s life sharing reminiscences, praying aloud, or singing. Others take turns saying words of endearment and farewell. But a great many families simply keep a silent and loving vigil.
• Greeting cards, prayer cards, or inspirational cards can be a form of our “presence” when the miles separate us. I know of a case where a woman dying of breast cancer was comforted at least twice a week by beautiful (and often humorous) cards a friend sent from across the country. Even when the dying woman’s eyesight failed her, family members cheered her (and themselves) by reading these cards and their personal messages of love.
• Speak from the heart, without speaking volumes. Whether you are offering words of comfort in person or via cards, letters, or even email, your heartfelt feelings and shared remembrances are worth more than all the stock greeting-card phrases combined. Sometimes a simple statement like, “Oh how I love your father,” is quite enough to a grieving daughter or son, just as the promise that the family is in your daily prayers can bring comfort. Avoid phrases that may be intended to bring comfort but seldom do, such as “At least she is no longer suffering” or “we all knew her death was coming.”
• Daily acts of grace can bring tremendous comfort. A man I know stopped by the home of a dying friend every morning on his way to work, bringing fresh juice for the family. He stayed only seconds, bidding all hello, never expecting anyone to alter their routines to accommodate his visits. Yet these daily drop-ins became a comforting routine to the family at a time of deep stress and anxiety. It made them feel less isolated and less alone. His regular visits also inspired other friends and neighbors to understand that it was “okay” for them to visit as well.
• Do what is required or needed, even if it falls outside your comfort zone. If we say we want to be of help to the family, we must sincerely seek to be of help. Some of us aren’t comfortable praying in public, singing out loud, or hugging. Significant numbers of us are uneasy about going into hospitals, hospices, or the rooms of the dying. Comforting others is rarely scheduled at our convenience and it almost always requires us to give from deep within ourselves. When we do, we find that we grow from the experience. When family members ask for specific kinds of help, we need to respond without judgment or questioning. The family may ask for help with funeral planning, for example, even while their loved one is still alive. Don’t balk or shy away, or pretend as if funeral plans are premature. My sister recounts when a good friend had only hours to live; her friend’s husband called my sister at work to ask her to hurry over and to please bring “white cheese” for the out-of-town guests who would soon be arriving for the funeral. My sister’s response was to log off her computer, get in her car, quickly pick up the cheese, and get to their home. She was grateful that the family had given her a purpose and a way to be of help.
• Don’t minimize the situation or attempt to make it “all better.” Recognize that the individual and his family are experiencing the end of a life. Just as we would not ignore the birth of an infant, we should not ignore the fact that someone is dying. It is better to be silent and supportive than to offer pat statements of optimism. “Where there is life there is always hope” is a true statement, but it has its appropriate time and place.
• Require nothing in return. In states of exhaustion, distress, shock, or deep mourning, families may scarcely be able to hold conversations or acknowledge your kindness. They may not even notice that you brought donuts and coffee, or that you raked the leaves. Understand that the blessings you derive from comforting those in need do not come in the form of thank you notes or effusive gratitude. The comforter’s true blessings always come from a higher source.