How To Show Up For Someone’s Grief: What to say (and not).

Photo by Author "Pet Bereavement Box"

When I am in the presence of a person grieving the loss of their beloved pet, I suddenly forget everything I know about grief and find myself at a loss for words. Like really stumbling on my words. Being a witness to big emotions feels uncomfortable and awkward. Yes, I’m referring to myself here— someone whose life is devoted to studying pet loss.

In the company of someone else’s grief, I feel helpless, so naturally, I put an insane amount of pressure on myself to find the “right” words to take away their pain (as if I were that powerful). If I’m being honest, I do it because someone else’s sadness makes me feel uncomfortable. In our happiness-obsessed culture, it’s human instinct to cheer someone up, but it's not our responsibility, role, or what they expect of us.

I’m very intellectually aware that we should allow people to feel their feelings without taking it upon ourselves to take a red marker and edit all over them. But knowing and acting are not one and the same (which is precisely why a career as a therapist didn't work out for me). I suspect others may relate to the discomfort of being around strong feelings, so I thought it might be useful to share what I am learning as I challenge myself to be consciously present with someone’s grief.

First and foremost, don’t avoid someone who is grieving because you don’t know what to say or you worry that if you bring it up, you will remind them of the loss and knock them off of their equilibrium. They know their pet is gone, and, odds are, the loss is always on their mind, so you are unlikely to derail them. (However, it is possible, so assess the environment, intensity of grief, and circumstances of the loss — but my point is, don’t fear contact.) Acknowledge the loss and offer condolences, and then allow them to decide how to proceed — or not — with the conversation. Simply recognizing the loss can go a long way. This is the time they need to be seen.

After Tovi died, I cherished it when someone would bring up something they missed about him or share a memory. However, had comments of this nature come when the loss was raw, they would have been too painful to hear and, frankly, may have derailed me for a moment. You might inadvertently make someone cry, but recognize that they are just tears, and don't be afraid of letting them fall. You didn't break the person; they are just sad, and that's a normal and healthy emotion. Pass a tissue. Offer a hug.

Go into the encounter relaxed and present with your full self—when we aren’t mindful, autopilot takes over, and we can become overwhelmed searching for the “right” thing to say. Try to get comfortable sitting beside their grief without feeling the need to apply pressure to stop the bleeding. By simply being there for someone, the grieving person may naturally feel better, but avoid going into an encounter with that as your intention. Putting that kind of pressure on yourself will interfere with your ability to be available.

It is commonly recommended not to talk about your own loss(es) when comforting someone else, but I think it can be beneficial under certain circumstances. If you’ve suffered a loss that is similar in emotional gravity, use your experience to portray your understanding of grief (while also keeping in mind that your grief experience won’t be exactly the same as theirs). Don’t go on about the details of your loss to avoid inadvertently putting the person in a position where they feel they need to comfort you. This isn't about you right now, but if you truly “get it,” let them know. But if your pet’s loss didn’t hold the same significance, don’t under any circumstances pretend to get it. Maybe you have never had a pet. Maybe you did have a pet, but you weren't bonded to their level. It’s okay to admit you have no idea how they feel while still validating and respecting their loss.

In an attempt to help, I’ve heard a lot of unhelpful phrases like, “They’re in a better place” and “You should be grateful for the time you had together.” I get it — their intentions are in the right place, but searching for a “silver lining” can feel minimizing to the loss. There doesn't have to be anything good about the situation. It can just suck and the grieving person has every right to bask in their sadness for a while. So examine your motives: Are you throwing pithy phrases at them because you are uncomfortable with their feelings and are hoping to shift their perspective? There may come a time when they will feel nothing but gratitude for their time together, but that doesn't have to be right now.

Another unhelpful suggestion is encouraging them to get a new pet. Please don’t pull out your phone to show them the Facebook post about a pet needing a home (unless they ask). Their pet is not replaceable. If they choose to bring another pet into their life, it should be their time when they are ready. All too often in pet loss support groups, I come across members sharing social media posts featuring dogs with days to live. It makes me cringe. Their intentions are in the right place, but I feel like this type of post capitalizes on the grieving person’s vulnerability. There will always be pets needing homes, so don't encourage them to rush things if they are not ready. In fact, depending on the situation, getting a new pet too soon can worsen grief (but that’s a whole different story).

Assure the grieving person that you are there if, and when, they want to talk, but only if you truly mean it. Not everyone is comfortable being around big emotions; there is nothing wrong with that, so assess that emotional strength in yourself. It’s okay to admit that this isn’t your wheelhouse. Frankly, it isn't mine which is why I write about it rather than counsel. If appropriate, offer to locate support groups or individual therapists. In this virtual society, support is available anywhere in the world. I provide various referrals on my website.

Understandably, a grieving person may not want to interact, but knowing someone is thinking of you can have a significant impact. A simple condolence card is incredibly comforting. It lets the bereaved know you see them. There are common memorial keepsakes, like a frame or portrait of the pet given to the grieving person, which are also incredibly meaningful. However, “thinking of you” gifts — not necessarily keepsakes or related only to their loss — can be actively helpful. A book about pet loss helps the griever understand what they are going through, and also addresses specific themes they may be struggling with, such as guilt or trauma. I gift The Pet Loss Companion, but my site has other book recommendations for adults and children. When I was newly drowning in grief, having a book like this could have been a game-changer, but at the time, it never even occurred to me that such books existed.

Do they knit? Bring them a special yarn or a gift card to a craft shop. Are they readers? Pass along some light fiction books. Do they write? Pick up a journal. An adult coloring book or some variation of a paint-by-number-ish craft are great mental getaways. A fleece blanket or lavender-infused microwavable plush feels like receiving a warm hug. You get the idea.

The griever is likely feeling depressed, which tends to make everyday tasks more difficult. A gift card for a meal delivery service or organizing a meal train* takes the pressure off, especially when energy reserves are low. It also helps facilitate self-care to ensure they are eating. You can also drop off groceries or send a gift card for grocery delivery.

With all of this said, I’m far from the model of how to support someone. My instinct to fix inevitably creeps in and throws me off course. How you support someone does not need to be perfect, and — spoiler alert — it won't be. This is tough stuff to navigate. If you’re uncomfortable talking with someone grieving but want to support them, if nothing else, send a condolence card. I am shocked at how many pet condolence cards are available from mainstream card companies. In the sympathy section of a local Hallmark store, I’ve seen close to ten variations at any one time— this signals to me that as a society, we are starting to “get-it.” And I love that.

Sending hugs from Baltimore… Liz

*A meal train is set up by friends and/or family to arrange for home cooked — or with my non-existent cooking skills, take out — meals to be delivered to the griever.

**As always, I want to acknowledge that the word “loss” can apply to many circumstances of pet loss, not only loss through death. I get it — There are many instances where pet owners do not have a strong bond with their pets and consider them disposable. I am not talking about those people — I’m talking about pet parents: those who are strongly bonded but, due to circumstances beyond their control, can no longer care for their pet and have no choice but to rehome them. For people who judge rehoming and comment on how they would never do this, I remind them how blessed they are to be in a situation where they can care for their pet. Some of the circumstances I have witnessed that lead to surrendering a pet are unfathomable, and it is not our place to compound the shame someone already feels. A missing pet is another time of intense grief and worry where the same support strategies can be applied.