Thursday, September 4, 2014

Sisters in Grief Trip to Africa

As Originally posted in The Huffington Post Blog

The Third of May, 2007 was the day that my husband Mark died. The Third of May, 2007 was the day that I, for the first time in my otherwise rather charmed life, wished death upon myself. I was only 29 years old. Almost everything in my life has changed since then.
While living in an affluent suburb outside of Chicago, I felt alone in my grief as a young widow. I felt the loss of a level of expectation that perhaps only those living in first world countries have the luxury to possess so ignorantly. I had lost the American dream of the good-looking and successful spouse, the white painted fence, and the security of living life as I would design it to be. My sense of control was swept away by a harsh wave of realization that we, in fact, control little. I have since learned that it is best to live life with open hands as we cannot hold onto much of this life, no matter how tight our grip may be.
After my husband died I traveled to parts of Africa with a small group of individuals. I had been to Africa numerous times in years prior, but this time we visited a widow's colony and I met women who were not only widowed, but also forced to live on their own. These women had formed a community and the organization that I was traveling with was there to build them a well. We walked and talked with these women who had invited us into their lives. We also toured the neighboring villages where we were allowed into the homes of some of the residents. Stepping inside one of these tiny mud huts, my eyes swept across the otherwise bare mud walls until I noticed a small and frayed embroidered tapestry that said, "Learn to appreciate even the little that God gives you." Tears formed pools in my eyes as the impression of that tiny wall hanging was grafted on my heart. The framework for my expectations in life was forced to make a major shift. The experience opened my eyes and shook the dust off of long lost impressions from previous trips to third world countries. I realized that these women in Africa were my sisters. They were my sisters in grief and my sisters in hope as they taught me how to dance even through life's difficulties.
The experience of my visit certainly wiped out any self-pity that I was holding onto. Yes, I was widowed. Yes, I had experienced grief on a very deep level. Yes, my heart ached for my husband who I missed with everything in me. However, I was a young American woman who lived in a country in which I was free to pursue my own goals and dreams. I lived a life in which I was supported by those around me. My community didn't shun me, but instead supported me. I had much to be grateful for even in the midst of my pain. Glimmers of light began to appear in my otherwise dark soul. I felt connected, inspired, encouraged and full of purpose. The idea to bring widows from first world countries to visit widows in the third world was born.
I have found it to be a rare occurrence to feel such absolute vision and purpose. There have been very few times in which I felt as though I was doing exactly what I was meant to do. Writing my memoir was one and now this idea of taking young widows from America and Europe to visit their sisters in grief in Africa is another. I knew deep within that I was to pursue this. I had no idea when or to what magnitude, but the intention and purpose had been set firm in my otherwise feeble mind. I have expectantly waited and the timing has now presented itself. This October I have the honor to be traveling with a group of young widows from America and Europe to visit the work of two non-profits that assist widows in Kenya. I hope that this trip provides the space and opportunity for a group of women to support, encourage, and inspire one another. I pray that we will learn to live life with purpose and in gratitude for even the little that has been given. I desire for our hearts to feel joy in the midst of sorrow and perhaps most importantly, I long that we will learn to dance together as sisters through the grief with open hands and new purpose. We may not be able to control much, but we can choose gratitude and how to spend each and every day as it is given.
2014-07-02-207763_5836703681_769658681_200876_2870_n.jpg

What Not To Say to Those in Grief: Part 2

As originally posted in the Huffington Post


Harsh words spoken from the lips of children can provide a bit of laughter. Harsh words spoken from the lips of adults sting. Here are some more examples of what not to say to those that are grieving, this time as taken from adults:
#1. "Don't worry. In time you will get another husband, child, friend, etc."
Although this may be true someday, it is not at all something that one wants to hear when grieving. I am now remarried but at the time I believed that I would never marry again. Saying that I would remarry made me feel as though people didn't realize how special my husband was. I lost someone who could not be replaced. Think about it, you may have another child or spouse or friend, but each and every person is unique. You can NEVER replace an individual and saying that you can devalues the one who was lost.
#2. "There is a reason for this. You will see the purpose (or God's plan)."
This is a saying that is commonly said within many religious circles and it can offend people whether they believe in God or not. When my husband died I struggled think of any grand purpose that would justify his death and I couldn't come up with one. Having someone tell me about a grand purpose while they turned and walked home to their spouse lit a angry fire deep within.
#3. "What can I do to help?"
This is perhaps the most common mistake. In the midst of grief I was so depressed that I couldn't identify any need. Tasks like shopping for groceries or mowing my lawn all seemed so trivial. I didn't eat, drink, or even sleep much. As cared so little about myself at the time, I certainly couldn't identify any need I had and being asked to identify ways in which someone could help me simply added another burden. Looking back, the friends and family who brought food, mowed my law and did grocery shopping without even asking were angels to me. They saw a need and acted on it.
#4. "You will grow so much as a person because of this."
I can certainly say that I am arguably a better person after going through grief. However, hearing this from others made me feel as though they believe he needed to die in order for me to be a better person. It also made me feel belittled as if I required such a deep level of growth that it took a major tragedy. Besides, your personal growth seems irrelevant at a time when you feel as though you might die from the level of misery you are in.
When looking at these examples of what not to say in grief, we are naturally led to the obvious question of what then to say. I have been asked for such numerous times and although I have personally swum in the depths of despair, I hesitate greatly to answer because each person and situation is unique. It is far too complicated for trite sayings. Therefore, I find it easier to focus more on what to DO.
My first word of advice is to learn to sit in silence and LISTEN. In fact, do not say anything. I realize that this is very hard to do as we are a culture of quick fixes, but it will help more than anything you could ever say. There are no words for grief and those who are grieving need to know that you are there for them. They need the physical presence of a friend and the support of a gentle hug. The best thing that anyone said to me at my husband's funeral was, "I am so sorry Sarah. There are no words". It was said with tears in her eyes as she embraced me. We stood together in that silence and it allowed for me to cry and release the pain that had been built up. I needed that more than any word spoken from her lips and she knew it.
The second word of advice is to act in kindness when the opportunity presents itself. Although I wasn't able to identify any needs I had during my darkest hours, I had friends and family who watched and showed up to act when it was most needed. Look for the times in which you can help and then do so. No matter how simple it may seem.
Finally, commit to being a friend in the coming months and years when others have long forgotten about the pain. We are a culture that moves quickly and yet grief does not.
Listen. Show up when needed. Be thoughtful and kind.
2014-09-02-ArgentinaHandsbySarahWauterlekPhotography.jpg

What Not to Say To Those in Grief (As originally posted in the Huffington Post)

lAs originally posted on the Huffington Post

Years ago one of my close friends told me that I should write about what NOT to say to those who are grieving. She stood by my side after my husband's death and heard first hand many of the offensive things that were spoken from the lips of others. Initially these comments angered and offended me. However, in time, these feelings slowly subsided as I began to realize that most of these offences were coming out of ignorance. The intention, I have chosen to believe at least, was often well meaning but the timing of the delivery or the content of what was said was off.
It was seven years ago that I lost my first husband in a tragic plane crash. At the time I was a second grade teacher and just the other day I came across the letters that my students wrote after his death. So now, at the thoughtful request of my dear friend Paige and with inspiration from my former seven year old students, I provide a list of what not to say:
#1 
"Dear Mrs. W,
I feel so bad for you. You must be sad. 
Sincerely, B.
PS. it is snowing in Colorado"
Although you may be excited about what is going on in your own life and think it may be helpful to share, do not do so unless he or she who is grieving asks. The beginning stages of grief are lonely and hearing about what is going on in the world can be rather isolating. It can make one feel like life goes on for others without so much of a thought about the person who died. Also, stating the obvious in that the grieving person is sad and has experienced a tragedy is awkward. I remember people standing in front of me saying what a tragedy it all was while staring into my eyes. It made me feel the pressure of having to console them and assure them that I was okay in order to ease their minds.
#2 
"Dear Mrs. W,
I know how you feel. My cat had passed out and I had to stay home for three days. 
Sincerely, R"
The saying, "I know how you feel" can be incredibly infuriating. Although you may think you feel as though you understand, you do not. Each person, relationship, and situation is unique. Treat them as such.
#3 
"Dear Mrs. W,
I am so sorry that Mr. W. died. But on the bright side you still have Bristol (dog). 
Sincerely, C"
Pointing out the positives in another person's life in the midst of their grief is an incredibly common mistake. Although I loved my dog Bristol, it in no way took away the pain of losing my husband. We can laugh at how ridiculous these words of a seven year old are, but I can assure you that many adults made similar comments. I was told to be grateful that I was young and would likely marry again. I was told to be happy about the love that I had experienced. Although statements such as these can be true in time, they seem to devalue the person who died and the feelings that the griever is experiencing.
#4 
"Dear Mrs. W,
I feel really bad for you. I know how you feel. My Grandpa died before I was even born. 
Sincerely, C"
Comparing a death that you have experienced or have heard about to the death of another is not fair or correct. Again, treat each person and each situation as unique. You may have had a similar experience, but you do not know all that the person feels.
These letters from my former students now provide me with laughter when I read them. However, the similar comments that I remember being made by adults do not. Everyone that I know who has grieved the loss of someone close has been offended by another's often well meaning comment. We are uncomfortable with pain and we want to lessen it with our words. So often the words that end up being said are those that attempt to console the one speaking them instead of the one who is grieving. Think about it. Be strong enough to show up and physically be there. Do not avoid the person or try to fix it with your words. Just be there. Some of these sayings may be true and perhaps can even be said at a later point, but not initially. Commit to reaching out in the months and years following by learning to listen and by learning to be a faithful friend when they need you.