How are you?
Three simple words that hold such good intention. But they can also put me in a state; one that causes great anxiety and sadness.
Honestly, I wonder how I am even here. It is hard to believe that I am functioning; but I am. When Maya died, I wondered, “How can I go on?” I still wonder. I am constantly wondering.
“How are you” is such a trigger. If I happen to be functioning in that moment (for instance, standing on line at a local store), these three words, can lead me to fall apart. I check in with myself and am reminded again, that the world as I knew it and lived it, was pulled out from under me. I’m living from moment to moment knowing that I will never see our precious daughter again. I am doing all I can to stand on this line. How am I?
Do I tell the questioners the truth? Do I share my feelings about how I really am? Do they really want to know? Is it that they want to be assured that I am fine? That it is possible to lose a loved one to suicide and then go shopping? Do I let them know that this simple question, though filled with caring and good intention, is not really a good one to ask? Do I ignore the question, or simply leave the store?
Let me share some ideas with you, in case you bump into me:
- “It’s nice to see you”
- “I’ve been thinking of you”
- “I’ve been sending you love”
- Just offer a warm smile
- Make eye contact and check in with me through my eyes
- Please don’t run in the other direction out of fear that you may say the wrong thing and trigger me!
How am I? As I’m writing this, I feel cared for and heard. You are reading this because you are with me. I feel loved and supported. You are helping me as I become more whole. I am filled with gratitude. For this, I give many thanks and much love.
Visiting Sasha at Middlebury, VT, February 2009
Thank you Elise,
I love you,
Susan
That feels I important to share.
It is information I need to hear, and something I would bet many people are glad to hear.
Thank you.
It’s nice to read your words.
Hi Paul,
And I bet if I were in other people’s shoes, I’d need to learn what to say, too. So glad you found this helpful.
I understand this so well, having lost our son Craig. Sometimes, I’ve found myself actually answering the question by telling people how I feel. Then, I step back a bit because it’s way too heavy, even after 4 years. And yes, smiles and connection help!
Dear Fran, Thank you for sharing. I’m so sorry for your loss. Sending a hug, Elise
Oh my friend I am so very thankful that you have shared this for I am always thinking of you and sending you Love. There is a book entitled The Grief Recovery Handbook. It speaks of the many unhelpful things others say to grieves because they too are ill prepared to deal with loss. Unfortunately How are you? Did not make the list so it is helpful when you share with me the best ways I can support you through something so unimaginably painful. I come as a cushion to you for you to use and utilize as you need. How ever I may be of service to you my friend. My heart is truly with you.
Peace and Many Blessings
http://www.sun.ac.za/english/entities/welgevallen-community-psychology-clinic/PublishingImages/Pages/Articles/The%20Grief%20Recovery%20Method%20Guide%20for%20Loss.pdf
Thank you for this resource, Dionne.
Thank you for sharing this.
Your thoughts were beautifully conveyed and written. All of my love and support, always.
dearest Elise,
I too have been guilty of saying those words to someone who is grieving, realizing instantly that they were ill chosen.
I do hope to see you soon, just for a walk or quiet time or meditation together.
And let me know if I can do anything useful… like visit your dad.
hugs to you and love
leslie
Thank you Elise. I was so glad to see you this evening in a shared moment of love and prayer. Shabbat shalom, dear one. May you be wrapped in the arms of angels. xoxo
And I look forward to more moments of song, love and prayer. Hopefully a dance too, at some point.
I miss you. I’m glad you’re fighting for life. The life team needs you. Thank you for your courage in sharing whatever you choose to share. All my love, dear Elise.
Larry, oh Larry. I’m not sure that I’m fighting, but I am sure that something is going on! I deeply appreciate your encouraging words about the “life team needing me”. This really touched me deeply. Thank you.
I love you and miss you very much Elise.
Thank you for sharing Elise
Lovely. Keeping you Mathew and Adin in my heart.
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for your honesty and bravery in sharing your experience. There is no way to imagine the pain you must feel, but knowing you are loved and cared for helps.
Long after my brother died, my mother would still encounter acquaintances in the grocery store who would innocently ask “how are the kids?”
My mother would reel. Didn’t they know? Did they forget? I regret these burdens are yours and I wish you strength to continue teaching from the heart, so gently and powerfully. Love, Birdie
I am so grateful that these days, I have loving friends that offer to shop for me/ us. And I have been taking them up on it.
Well said
The question “how are you” has been a trigger for me for a long, long time. Because nobody knows what it’s like to be a single parent and how stressful that is. Because I’m juggling five jobs and still not earning enough to pay my bills even though I’ve published 36 award-winning books. The question makes my head spin with the pressure to assess my complicated life. Now when I compare what the question triggers for me to what it must do to you, there’s no comparison. Knowing this breaks my heart for you all over again.
I try to hear the question in a different way. What people really mean is not a question but a polite formality, one which says “I care, so I want to hear about what you’re going through, if you want to share.” People don’t seem to mind if I don’t want to. Sometimes I say, “I can’t put into words how I am, it’s too complicated.” Well, guess what – they can’t put into words how they care, either, except by using a standard question. It’s really hard to see you and not ask how you are!
Language is a funny thing. We mean well. We care. We use words to point beyond words.
Dear Elise, you are loved by an unending love.
Just love to you, Elise
Dearest Elise, I find myself wondering, ” did I say, how are you?”, when I unexpectedly saw you at the yoga place last month? There is no forethought sometimes in meeting one another, no filtering the words that express genuine concern. I remember dreading people coming up to me, and asking that same question after we lost Brian. It’s very painful, because it does momentarily, bring us out of the automatic living out of our daily lives. This innocent, yet charged question, snaps us back into the, “no, I’m not dreaming, this really did happen”. I learned that the response that most authentically fit my new reality was, ” how the hell do you think I am doing? My daughter has a three day old baby, who’ll never know her father!” But my emerging anger at how this could have happened to us, would have been equally inappropriate. In time, I learned that the emotionally easiest response for my grieving situation was, “thank you for asking… We are as well as can be expected. I can’t talk right now”. Then I’d bravely walk or run away. If it was a particularly bad day, I’d raise my finger to my lips, as if to say, no talking, please. Your road is a hard one, Elise, but you will walk it in Grace, as you have done so far. As you can see, my long posts are not comments to your beautiful expressions of love and loss, Elise. Rather they are the conversations our phyical distance doesn’t allow to take place. Blessings dear One… I am with you. Mercedes
Thank you for sharing. Sending LovingKindness and compassion everyday.
Elise, I hear you, and I give many thanks and much love to you. We often try to communicate with words what our hearts feel, and the I often gets in the way. When the “I” shatters, there is just love; when hearts are so tender, words often don’t suffice. Thank you for also helping all of us.
Elise,
Your words are helpful! Please know that I think of you often!
Sending you love!
Jen Greenberg
This is very helpful. I remember seeing you in Robin’s many years ago and asking if you were “Felice,” my college roommate. You two look very much alike! You were very sweet, and laughed, and said, “no, but my name is Elise.” Thank you for your graciousness and your willingness to share. You have let us all in on your world and we are better off for it. I will look for you in town, now that Robin’s is no longer Robin’s, and I will wink at you and you will know a) that I think of you and pray for you often and b)that I know you are not Felice. 😉
Liz, thanks for this memory. I too, remember it! And, I like your plan.
Thank you so much Elise for sharing those thoughts. I am sending love and strength every day. Your story about the twice gifted bracelet was so very moving to me. Blessings.
My dear Elisel: I think of you everyday and share my love and hugs from far away.
Love you babe!
Wendala, in my heart, you are so close.
<3
Dear Elise,
Thank you for this! A number of years ago Bonnie Meadow gave a talk at the WJC on Rosh Hashanah about the difficulty she faced whenever anyone asked “How are the boys?”, at a time one of her sons was having a particularly hard time. It was so important for all of us to hear, as your words are now. Bonnie, if you are reading this, maybe you will share your talk with Elise…
Love,
Rabbi Jonathan
Yes, Rabbi Jonathan. And I loved how Bonnie wove the question in with our Biblical mothers. “How are the boys?”
“How are you?” These questions carry so much weight. Perhaps we can share Bonnie’s piece here sometime.
Thank you for sharing *what to say* and what is a trigger. I can see how those three words can break you wide open. I hope I see you soon so that I can simply say that I think of you every single day.
I am touched, Ruth.