093 - Principles for helpers rather than steps for grievers.

Sorting through my thoughts on some Christmas time at the hospital.

Welcome back (or welcome)!

I know I wasn’t going to write again this year. But writing is how I learn what I’m thinking. And I needed to make some sense today.

This afternoon, I was listening to Kip Tindall to Guy Raz about The Container Store. Years into the business, he realized that consistency in the way customers and coworkers were treated would only come if there were commonly shared and understood principles. He called them Foundation Principles.

They aren’t complicated. “Train for success.” “Communication is leadership.”

As I was listening, and putting air in the tires of our cars, I thought about the ways we talk about grief being individual. We try to remind people that everyone loses a different person. Some of us shudder when we hear about the stages of grief, knowing that there aren’t stages. (A friend recently pointed out his frustration with grief experts in the comment section to this newsletter).

But as I was listening to Kip, I realized that though each customer has a different storage challenge, each coworker can have a consistent way of approaching those customers. And each coworker can learn how to be more helpful.

As I’m writing “Finding Words in Hard Times” each week, as I’m teaching my course in pastoral care, as I’m studying grief support, I’m not looking for, or offering, 5 quick steps to successful grief.

I am, however, trying to understand what can make helpers more helpful.

For example, being intentionally present with people is helpful. Gathering information before giving answers is helpful. “Try this” is often more helpful than “Do this.” “This is hard” is a helpful way to acknowledge the moment.

This morning, in a couple different rooms, I tried to spend time listening before talking. Deaths on the day after Christmas are hard for everyone in the room.

In one room, I walked in, nodded to the people present, and stood with my hand resting just above my heart, getting my heartbeat and headbeat adjusted. A few hours before, the five people in the room had been laughing together. Now two were crying, two were staring, and one was dead.

I didn’t have quick steps for them, but I needed a quiet step for me.

As I write, I don’t know what the five quiet guidelines, or suggestions, for being helpful are. I think, however, it’s a useful reflection project for me. To distill some foundation principles for helpers that will honor the diversity of the experience of loss. That will help us help better.

And also, this confession.

I’m thinking through what I did say today to the family. A couple things were helpful. I could have done more research before walking into the room. And there was a layer to their grief that none of us knew about until three minutes before the last family member walked out of the building. That knowledge changed almost everything.

I’m learning all the time.

As we are thinking about the 10 best lists of books and posts and movies of 2024, maybe we can also think about the two hardest moments we watched in the lives of others. And move into 2025 committed to learning how to be as helpful in hard times as possible.

Because I’m pretty sure that we’ll have opportunities to try again in this next year.

Thanks for reading.

Jon