Toni Morrison, author of the Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, Beloved, lost her adult son in 2010. In an interview 18-months later with Emma Brockes for the Guardian, Ms Morrison spoke about words and grief:
What do you say? There really are no words for that. There really aren’t. Somebody tries to say, ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ People say that to me. There’s no language for it. Sorry doesn’t do it. I think you should just hug people and mop their floor or something.
In 2014, my mom received a breast cancer diagnosis and began her self-proclaimed “walk with cancer,” which continues today. My grandmother, at 102, died in 2017. Also in 2017, I lost my husband’s love and our marriage. At these times, I was distant and short-tempered at work, and my co-workers thought I didn’t like them, and that I didn’t want to be there. In truth, my daily work routine and my co-workers provided me with much-needed stability and distraction. But, my hidden grief obscured this truth.
I didn’t say anything to anyone at work for reasons involving shame and fear. I was scared about my mom, sad about my grandma, and distraught and embarrassed about my divorce. I didn’t want to see pity in the eyes of my co-workers — pity would make me feel worse. I wanted to keep a stiff upper lip, though not only did a supervisor notice my changed attitude, I wasn’t able to relate to my co-workers like I did before my losses.
Today I believe the best advisors on grief are those who experience it, as they experience it. Partnered efforts, not solitary ones, give rise to better strategies, especially when looking for the best way to deal with grief. Ms Morrison is right in her belief that words fail in dealing with grief, but I found a guiding light in a sentiment expressed by William Shakespeare in Macbeth: “Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak/ Whispers the o’er-fraught heart and bids it break.”
When I finally told the truth, I received no pity. I gained hugs, empathy, and strength from my co-workers. I felt like I could breathe a little easier, and like I was free to evolve. Also, my behavior and my mood at work improved once I knew what I faced was no longer invisible.
When confronted with someone (co-worker or other) who is grieving, or when experiencing grief yourself, a better path than the stoic one exists. If you’re wondering what comfort you should offer, or if you’re wondering whether you should leave a grieving co-worker alone, err on the side of speaking your truth. Consider saying, “I don’t know what to do or say… but I want you to know you’re not alone. How can I make things easier for you today?” If you’re the one experiencing grief, and especially if you suspect your grief is changing your behavior at work, don’t do what I did and attempt to persevere on your own. Tell someone.
Now, there are a few things to note here. I would not open up to, or ask how I can make things easier for, someone I didn’t know well. Also, in my experiences with two grieving co-workers, I didn’t need to say anything. I spent my lunch hour sitting at our breakroom table listening to one talk about how difficult it was for her and her family, and I put my arm around the other as she rested her head on her desk and cried. I simply didn’t turn away. Finally, I personally wouldn’t put my arm around a male co-worker. I wouldn’t want that gesture to be misconstrued. I would lend them my ear. An attentive ear is better medicine than any gesture or advice.
So, the wisdom of keeping a stiff upper lip warrants a second look. I no longer believe in letting the injury of my grief heal on its own. Even the British, who are known for their stoic ethos, insisted that the Royal Family appear in public in a show of shared loss after the death of Princess Diana. In response, young Prince William and Prince Harry toured the hundreds of flowers and mementos left outside their doorstep. In my memory, they were enclosed by a tall wrought-iron fence. I hoped that the two boys had the space and the people with which to outwardly grieve in private.
From my experience with grief, I would say the following to anyone who intends to comfort those, co-worker or other, who are grieving:
- Let your intention guide your words. Don’t worry about the “right” thing to say. Just speak your truth.
- Lend your ear. An attentive ear is better than the best advice.
- Do not expect a grieving person to return to who they were before their loss. Loss equals change.
To those who are grieving, I say:
- Would you rather be stoic, or brave? Recognize your grief and express it to those, including co-workers, who will face your grief with compassion.
- What are the effects of unspoken grief? Is silence a form of denial?
- Accept that loss and grief are catalysts for change. Change can lead to a healthier heart and wiser soul, when what you face becomes visible to yourself and to others.