Death ettiqette

Was talking to a girl friend of mine today and we realized that we are at that age when our elders are headed for the exit. There just seems to always be somebody in our circle of acquaintances or friends that has suffered a major loss of some kind.

She knows somebody whose father just died. Here's the problem:  she doesn't know this person very well. She is an acquaintance. You know the kind of person you recognize, but rarely get past the "how are you/fine thanks, and you/ fine/good seeing you, bye/bye," cycle of conversation. Should she acknowledge the deep and profound loss that this person has experienced, or should she just remain in her usual cycle? Would it be considered rude not to offer condolences?

To answer her question, I told her that I didn't think she should offer her sympathies. Here's why.

When my father died, it was the first major loss I had suffered as an adult. It was catastrophic. I barely could make it out of the house. In hindsight, I probably could have sought medical care and probably had dealt with the loss better. But despite the lack of medical intervention, I did have my better days. I did what people had done for millennia, sucked it up, put on my big girl pants, and went out into the world to do what needed to be done. Those early days of grief were probably the hardest. But I'd have to go to the store and get groceries like everybody else.

Anyone who lives on an island knows that no matter how big the population is, you start to recognize everybody. You also come to love the times of the day that most people don't frequent the grocery store so your 30 minute shopping doesn't include an impromptu conversation. Stack a few of those up and you're in there for over an hour.

So I was shopping, actually doing pretty well. Hadn't cried yet that day and was well entrenched in picking the right tomatoes or whatever, when I had one of those friendly acquaintances say hello. And so I got into my cycle of how are you/fine, thanks/and you... when she went off the script and said, "Oh, I heard that your father died. I'm sorry for your loss."

w  t  f

I was instantly plunged back into my despair, tears welling up into my eyes, and this woman, this woman I barely knew, walked away with her shopping cart as I was left to pull myself together again.

So I told my friend that if it were me, I wouldn't say anything. Not unless I was willing to put my arms around this nearly perfect stranger and try to truly act out the words, "I'm sorry for your loss." Those words aren't like the little niceties that we throw away with little regard. Truly empathizing, truly being sorry that they are going through this grief, simply should cost. That's why we bring tubs of potato salad, tuna casserole, potted flowers, and more importantly, hugs and presence. Because that is what being truly sorry for another's loss means.

Maybe I'm wrong, but I know that I didn't want that woman to leave her script.