The Language of Condolence

     "The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug."

                                                  Mark Twain

     In his inimitable way, Mark Twain reminds us of the power of words to shape our ideas and experiences. For example, the reference to our dead with the seemingly innocuous words "loved one" inadvertently generates more pain than comfort for many. I often hear the cry of a deep hurt that silently, and sometimes not so silently, telegraph: is everyone who dies a loved one--not a question to be answered with a yes or no but rather a yes and no. In part, the confusion is related to how the connection came to be and how it developed.

     From the depths of that cry, many search for answers unmasked in the wake of a death, knowing that simple answers never address the complexity of connection and relationships.

On Connection and Relationships

Personal Connections/Relationships

     And yet, even when "love" is gradually revealed as indifference, fear, disrespect, intimidation or overt abuse, people stay in relationships--for many reasons. There is often an assumption that if the connection and relationship has been a "troubled" one, the work-of-grief is "easier" or perhaps, not even necessary. Nothing could be further from the truth! Irrespective of the nature of the relationship, grief always accompanies loss and resolution is possible in the healing work-of-grief. 

The Healing Work-of-Grief: Overview

     The work-of-grief--for everyone who has experienced a death--has to do with using energy to heal the pain of loss. The healing unfolds in the struggle to recognize and create different meanings and opportunities in a world profoundly changed. The possibility for growth surfaces in the inevitable self-reflection, an introspective process rooted in our internal moral standards: the nature of the relationship influences the direction and depth of the introspection. So, we willingly--albeit reluctantly-- plum the depths of the "vault" of our personal history, where all life experiences are held: in memory. 

     This crucial aspect of self-reflection in the work-of-grief involves: slowly unraveling the complex web of intimate relationships in the connection; clarifying the context in which the relationship developed; reviewing how one participated throughout the relational dynamic and focusing on the time surrounding the dying and death. We choose to engage the difficult work-of-grief through the unique filters of our individual history and unfolding biography: a history that may include "troubled" relational dynamics.

The "Troubled" Relational Dynamic

     Grief following death in troubled relationships differs in intensity, direction and depth of the self-reflection. In a troubled connection, death may bring a contradictory mixture of confusion, guilt, shame, relief, sadness, regret and perhaps, even joy with an unsettling sense of profound emptiness, intrusive thoughts of self-recrimination, surprising questions of whether grief is appropriate or even legitimate. In their grief, people struggle with the contradiction they dare not acknowledge as they receive words and cards expressing sorrow on the death of their "loved one". While they verbalize feelings of sadness and sorrow, a deeper unspoken pain--perhaps unsayable--seems to belie the spoken word. It is in the healing work-of-grief that they may choose to open wounds--old and new--to the healing light of day.

Conclusion/Reflections

     As I reflect on the significance of words, I marvel at how often we unintentionally choose the "almost right word" in referring to our dead. Forgetting how deeply the power of words shapes our ideas and experiences, we inadvertently intensify the pain of grief in light of expectations implicit in words of sympathy. Because we can never know the nature of the connection or the quality of the relationship, perhaps we might reflect more carefully as we choose spoken words and greeting cards to express condolences.

Until next time,

Barbara