My parents always read the newspaper. The Sioux Falls Argus Leader, daily, came by mail. The Brookings Register also came by mail twice weekly. My newspaper reading habit began, sprawled out on the living room carpet, reading the funnies. Now I read the Minneapolis Star/Tribune daily as well as the Washington Post and Huffington Post online.
The advice columnist, Carolyn Hax, is carried by both the Strib and the Post . Hax has an unusual ability to cut through he complexity of reader's dilemmas and give wise counsel. Consequently I always peruse her column to see what she has to say.
Today a writer was seeking advice on a helpful response to acquaintances who expressed no sympathy after the suicide of the writer's sister. This is Hax' response.
"What a terribly loss, I'm sorry.
"You're not alone in seeing some of your people vanish just as you need them most. Not by a long shot; such vanishing is a common and cruel byproduct of death in a culture where rituals are not universal, established and clear.
"This is not to excuse anyone's silence, merely to explain it: it's actually a question I get fairly often, from people who don't know how to respond to someone's grief, then hesitate out of indecision and fear of missteps, then realize their silence has now lasted an unseemly amount of time,...
"Deaths by suicide especially seem to trigger this kind of support paralysis. Again, cruelly so, since a compassionate universe would send more support for more complicated grief, not less.
"Something else I see in your letter that suggests these people fell through this same uncertainty crack: You describe them as friends of proximity. They happened to join the same club, move to the same neighborhood, work at the same place, for their own reasons, and then found a nice acquaintance in you. So they're going to care about you, but not necessarily feel comfortable side in a crisis, deducing you have closer friends for that."
Hax goes on to say, don't withdraw and, allow others to say what they want to say. There is much wisdom in her response. Two lessons I've learned in the land of grief: "If you care be there" and "being there" can take many different forms; calls visits, cards, emails, etc., and, the words spoken don't matter much but the speaking does. Hax is correct when she says that fear often keeps persons from responding. It's the reaching out, in whatever form, that matters.
Takk for alt,
Al
From Writer's Almanac 7/2/2019
The advice columnist, Carolyn Hax, is carried by both the Strib and the Post . Hax has an unusual ability to cut through he complexity of reader's dilemmas and give wise counsel. Consequently I always peruse her column to see what she has to say.
Today a writer was seeking advice on a helpful response to acquaintances who expressed no sympathy after the suicide of the writer's sister. This is Hax' response.
"What a terribly loss, I'm sorry.
"You're not alone in seeing some of your people vanish just as you need them most. Not by a long shot; such vanishing is a common and cruel byproduct of death in a culture where rituals are not universal, established and clear.
"This is not to excuse anyone's silence, merely to explain it: it's actually a question I get fairly often, from people who don't know how to respond to someone's grief, then hesitate out of indecision and fear of missteps, then realize their silence has now lasted an unseemly amount of time,...
"Deaths by suicide especially seem to trigger this kind of support paralysis. Again, cruelly so, since a compassionate universe would send more support for more complicated grief, not less.
"Something else I see in your letter that suggests these people fell through this same uncertainty crack: You describe them as friends of proximity. They happened to join the same club, move to the same neighborhood, work at the same place, for their own reasons, and then found a nice acquaintance in you. So they're going to care about you, but not necessarily feel comfortable side in a crisis, deducing you have closer friends for that."
Hax goes on to say, don't withdraw and, allow others to say what they want to say. There is much wisdom in her response. Two lessons I've learned in the land of grief: "If you care be there" and "being there" can take many different forms; calls visits, cards, emails, etc., and, the words spoken don't matter much but the speaking does. Hax is correct when she says that fear often keeps persons from responding. It's the reaching out, in whatever form, that matters.
Takk for alt,
Al
From Writer's Almanac 7/2/2019
Yes
by William Stafford
It could happen any time, tornado,
earthquake, Armageddon. It could happen.
Or sunshine, love, salvation.
It could, you know. That's why we wake
and look out––no guarantees
in this life.
But some bonuses, like morning,
like right now, like noon,
like evening.
William Stafford, “Yes” from The Way It Is: New and Selected Poems.
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