09/01/2024
Some great advice for those who wish to help someone struggling!
Grief Groceries!
I saw this letter today- as a funeral directors son, I have been around this for years. This is some of the best advice I have ever seen.
βHey there, Thanks for writing. Iβm really glad your friend has you in her life.
I get it. Grief is a funny thing. Itβs the time in our life when we most need help, and also the time when asking for help is so hard. Not because we are ashamed to ask for help, although that happens sometimes too. But mostly because our brain just sort of shuts down.
When my Dad died, I looked functional. But I wasnβt OK. Not at all. And when the news got out, the ton of people flooding me with calls, texts, and DMβs was overwhelming. I really couldnβt function. I sat on the swing in our yard and just stared into space. People called and asked what they could do to help. I had no idea.
βWell, anything you need at all, let me know, OK?β
βOKβ.
They hung up. I stared into space some more.
I had no idea what to do. What I needed. I didnβt even know what to ask for.
Then a friend sent a text. This friend had met Dad once but didnβt really know him. But still, she knew I was hurting. I saw who it was and almost put the phone down without reading the text, but I saw the message and it stopped me:
Will you be home at 8:30 tonight?
Whatβs weird is this friend lives 12 hours away from me.
Yes, I replied.
βK.β
10 minutes later, she said, βInstacart will be there at 8:30. Open the door for them.β
βWhat?β
βGrief Groceries.!!β
When Instacart showed up, they put two large bags of groceries on my porch. Frozen pizzas. Ice cream. Oreo cookies. Tinned soup. Stoufferβs lasagna. A gallon of milk. Like that. Things I could heat up if I needed a meal, or pig out on if I needed fat and sugar. Sometimes, you just need to eat half a box of Oreos.
Notice she didnβt ask if I needed any food. I would have said no. She just asked if I would be home.
Grief groceries.
Another friend, who lives out of town, asked Renee to name a restaurant near our house where we like to eat. There is a local chain near our house that is sort of a deli. When we eat supper there, we spend about $25. Renee told her the name of the place.
An hour later, there was a gift card in my inbox for $250. Yes, that is a lot of money, and I understand not everyone can do that. But the wonderful thing was that because it was enough for multiple meals, we didnβt try to save it for βthe right timeβ. We ate there that night, and take out from there several times a week for the next month on nights when I just didnβt have the spoons to cook.
Both of those gift-givers knew something I didnβt know β that when you are grieving, you donβt want to make decisions. No, thatβs not quite it: You canβt make decisions. You hit decision fatigue really fast.
So, I guess what Iβm saying is, donβt ask grieving people to make big choices or decisions. βHow can I helpβ is a big choice. But βCan I take the kids this afternoon so you can have some time to yourselfβ is a much smaller one. βWill you be home tonight?β is a small choice. βWhat restaurant do you likeβ is a small decision. Just showing up to cut their grass because you noticed it needed cutting is loads better than asking, βDo you want me to cut the grass?β Or, βIβm going to Target. What can I get you while Iβm there?β is better than βCan I run any errands for you?β
It wonβt always be like this. If you stick around, eventually they will surface and ways to be helpful will make themselves known. But in the first few days, especially, it helps to remove as many decisions from their plate as you can!β
Original Words from: Hugh Hollowell Jr.