People Will Say Stupid Stuff

When it comes to insensitive comments, you will be on the receiving end of a ton of them. Yes, people will say stupid stuff. It’s important to keep in mind that it’s usually not the offending person’s fault—grief is an awkward topic for most people, and they struggle for the right words of comfort. Most people just grasp at straws and then fall back on common platitudes. Here are some platitudes that I personally heard.

Religious People Will Say Stupid Stuff

“God needed another angel in Heaven,” “God called her home,” and “God only takes the best.”

First of all, I am not religious, so all of these types of remarks get under my skin. I am pretty good about reminding myself that people mean well, and God is comforting to them, so they want to share that comfort with me. The thing that irks me about these statements the most is the idea that there was some sort of “plan” for Libby to die. Or some sort of justification for why she’s better off now than she was before—like she’d rather be with God or in heaven than with her mama.

And I don’t buy that notion for a second. There’s no good reason for a beautiful, caring, one-of-a-kind ten-year-old girl to die. Ever.

Regular People Will Say Stupid Stuff

“At least she went quickly.” I went through the hell of losing my mother to cancer, and it was a slow, painful process, so I get why people say this. However, here’s the problem with this one: I don’t know if Libby went quickly. I know her side of the car got hit by a huge truck and she was already dead when help arrived.

But quick is a relative term. I like to believe that it was instantaneous, but I also know that she probably saw the truck coming and had time to be scared, and that haunts me daily. I don’t know if she felt anything or had time to think anything. And those moments are the ones that my brain constantly replays in different ways—none of them comforting.

But most of all, I don’t like this statement because I didn’t have the chance to say goodbye. The last time I saw Libby was when I dropped her off at dance class and we blew each other a kiss as she ran in the door of her studio. And then she was gone, and I never saw her again. Not even her body.

There’s a special kind of hell for people who don’t get that closure, so it’s insensitive to compare the rapidity of losses. You just never know the other person’s experience. “I don’t know how you’re doing it” or “I could never survive if that happened to me.”

The easiest way to explain this one is to say, with complete confidence, that people have no fucking idea how they would handle losing
a loved one until it actually happens to them. Did I think I would survive losing my precious daughter? Absolutely not.

Well-Meaning Friends Will Say Stupid Stuff

In fact, I used to say to her all the time that I didn’t know what I’d do if she died. Did I think that I would ever have to deal with losing my dad, mom, stepmom and daughter in such a short span of time? Of course not. But here I am—getting out of bed each morning, going to work, writing, doing laundry, grocery shopping . . . I guess I’m “doing it.”

Is that surviving? I suppose. Did I have a choice? Not really. I had a mortgage to pay and food to buy and if I would’ve stayed in bed I would’ve lost my job. I have two boys that are still alive, and many people who love and care about me. They kept me going on days when I wanted to give up and end things. I made a choice to provide for my family and be responsible and then later, to learn to grow
around my grief and choose to have hope that my life could be worth living.

Am I still sometimes guilty of putting on a fake face all day and then eating a pint of ice cream and wallowing in self-pity when I get home? Abso-freakin-lutely.

Everyone Will Say Stupid Stuff

“Life/God only gives you what you can handle.”

Well then, they both suck. Because NO ONE should have to handle losing a child. Or for that matter, a sister, sister-in-law, cousin, dad, stepmom, mom, and family dog. This statement sounds like I’m being punished for being a strong person with my shit together. Not cool.

“When are you going to get back to normal?” Umm, whaaaaaaaaaaaaat?? I can actually give you an answer to that ridiculous question. Never.

I have no “normal” at this point. I will always be the mom who lost her ten-year-old daughter. And I will always feel a twinge of sadness when I see other little girls that age. I will always get a stabby feeling in my heart when a song she loved comes on the radio. I will always see literally anything about dance and get depressed imagining what she would’ve looked like during her senior year of competition. When her friends are starting to go to proms, get married, have babies . . . I will always feel jealous and heartbroken that she never got to experience any of those things.

Deep grief affects us completely, and we are never truly the same person afterwards. With that said, while we might never be our old selves, that doesn’t mean our lives are destined for permanent suckitude.

If you’ve heard any of these types of remarks, you’re not alone. Yes, these comments suck, but my advice is to let them roll off your back as best as you can. If you have someone constantly telling you to “get over it” or “move on,” that person is an asshole and it might be time to distance yourself from that relationship. Otherwise, be like the penguins in the movie Madagascar: “Smile and nod, boys. Smile and nod.”

Read more by Brooke Carlock at Grieving Mommy: One Mama’s Journey Through Child Loss/Grieving Mommy: a grieving mom’s journey through child loss

Check out Brooke’s other writing on Open to Hope: ‘You’re SO Strong’: A Misunderstanding of Grief – Open to Hope