Dear Friends and Family,
Ramadan Mubarak to the Muslims. I know that you are praying for the liberation of Palestine. I join you wholeheartedly in that prayer.
My name is Jeremy Rye. I wouldn’t know Fatima and Ibrahim if not for their youngest, Mustafa. I call him Moose, which he hates, but I’m trying to inspire linebacker traits in him so that Fatima gets her mini-Ibrahim football player son and retirement plan.
When Fatima was pregnant with Mustafa, she listed a parental coverage posting for her role at the Open Society Foundations. I applied, with no experience in philanthropy. We met, she hired me. Intense workplace trauma-bonding ensued as Fatima gave me a two-week crash course before she left. When she returned from leave, she fought to keep me at the organization, giving me a career that I’m grateful for. But more than that, I gained a sister from another mister. We pushed each other towards excellence, schemed to move money to unnoticed but greatly deserving movement orgs, and processed a lot. Fatima calls me her “queer shaman” because I helped her navigate terrible office personalities and politics.
We are no longer coworkers, but we are forever chosen family. I continue in my role as her queer shaman. We no longer process work drama. We mourn Ibrahim.
I loved spending time with Ib at the office when he brought the boys to visit Mama at work. Once, on an OSF sponsored trip to the Arizona-Mexico border town of Nogales, I teased Ib and called him “Mr. Ashraf.” Fatima cackled. Ib gasped. The nickname stuck. I think he relished it as time went on.
What I remember most about Mr. Ashraf is how he made friends everywhere he went. The barista. The bus driver. The construction worker. He gave time and attention to everyone and was genuinely interested in each person’s story. He built an enormous community - that you are all a part of.
I know that building and fostering a beloved community is central to Muslims during Ramadan. From breaking fast together, to giving zakat (the annual redistribution of wealth), to exercising patience with each other, this year, the global community also grieves together.
Grief looks very different from person to person and from loss to loss. The loss of a life partner is very different from the loss of a parent. The loss of a grandparent is very different from the loss of a child. All loss is painful and traumatic. But the differing circumstances of each loss means that grief is experienced uniquely.
As her queer shaman, I shared one of my most important lessons on loss with Fatima, which I learned from my mother.
When I was 10 years old, my mother and father went through a grueling divorce. Whenever folks asked her, “how are you?” she experienced intense pain. On the inside, my mom felt horrible, as our lives were turned upside down. But, she knew that folks used “how are you?” as a synonym for “hello.” So she replied with, “fine” or “good,” which felt like a betrayal to her feelings. As my mom says, “I hated myself for that. So, if you feel like crap, and people ask you how you are, just tell them that you feel like crap!”
As people congregate this Ramadan, and as our grieving loved ones increase their social interactions, I thought it would be helpful to put together a do’s and don’ts list for supporting grieving friends, family, and community members.
As mentioned above, grief is experienced uniquely by each person and their circumstances, so this list is not universal. However, one thing that I’ve found that is nearly universal is mindfulness around the question, “how are you?”
This simple question can make a grieving person experience feelings in a split second that they don’t want to or aren’t prepared for. Or, it could set them up for performative politeness, which can be a painful betrayal of personal truth, the way it was for my mom. Generally speaking, refrain from asking a grieving person, “how are you?” Or, be prepared to hear a real and honest answer. Consider asking, “How good or bad are you today on a scale of 1-10?”
The world is a tough place and grieving people are all around us. The more aware, sensitive, considerate, and prepared we are, the better. Grief support can be a fantastic vehicle to build and foster community.
I invite you to share your experience with grief and what helped and didn't help in the comments below. It would be wonderful if this post became a resource for all of us who are supporting or wanting to support grieving people in our lives.
Love,
Jeremy
DO
Bring up the transitioned loved one. For many grieving people, talking about their loved one and hearing about their loved one is what they want to do the most.
DO
Share pictures, screenshots of texts, voicemails, photos of letters, gifts, other things that you shared with their loved one or that they shared with you. All of these things help to build and to maintain the memory bank.
DO
Tell them how much their loved one loved them.
DO
Reach out. Send a “thinking of you” text. Share a memory. Express your own sadness over their loved one’s departure. It's never too late. But you should know, if you don't reach out, it's noticed.
DON’T
Expect a response.
DON’T
Small talk. If you don't have anything to say you don't need to force a conversation. A smile/wave/hug is plenty. Grief is intense. Small talk can feel annoying, futile, unimportant.
DO
Offer to help in very concrete ways that you know will be helpful. “I’ll bring dinner.” “I’ll drop the kids to school.” “I’ll take your car for a wash.” Check in with people closest to the grieving person if you need ideas.
DON'T
Ask, "How can I help?" You'll almost always hear, "I'm not sure." Grief is overwhelming and exhausting. Take the thinking and decision making out of your offer. See the previous DO.
DO
Help when asked to help. If you can't, don't reject the help. Instead, find someone who can take your place.
DON’T
Ask about life's plans. The new normal after a loss is awful and a very difficult thing to contend with. Don't ask about work, where they plan to live, how they plan to survive.
DO
Ask/offer to visit their loved one's grave to pay your respects.
DON'T
Equate time passed with intensity of grief:
"Time heals all."
"Life goes on."
"It's been a while, it must be getting easier." It doesn't. In fact, it might be getting harder.
An awful truth is that grief and loss never truly go away. We just learn to live with them. And loss is like the rolling waves of the sea. Sometimes, a big wave can come crashing in at any time with no sign or warning, pulling a person under for a while.
DON'T
Comment on strength and/or survival.
"How are you doing it?"
"You're so strong."
DO
Legitimize feelings of loss. “If I miss them, I know you’re missing them the most.”
DO
Consider the strength of your relationship and the nature/tone of your comment.
DON’T
Give advice, especially if you have not suffered a similar loss.
DON’T
Comment on physical appearance. “You look tired.” “You look good for what you’ve been through.”
DON’T
Post about the lost loved one on social media without acknowledging or giving condolences to the family.
DON'T
Say that everyone has their own challenge and "this is yours."
DO
Be prepared for non-responsiveness, exhaustion, distant stares, inattentiveness, clumsiness, and forgetfulness. Grief takes a toll on brain function and these are some symptoms of the “brain fog” that grieving people experience.
DO
Understand the physiological toll of grief. Many people feel intense physical pain and intense fatigue. Look for unstable walking patterns, physical weakness, and pain complaints. Offer to carry things, hold their hand, offer your seat.
DON’T
Share your grief story about your 100 year old grandparent who lived a full life. Your grief is one hundred percent legitimate and you deserve to feel exactly as you're feeling about your lost loved one. But sometimes your loss - of a totally different circumstance - can lead to wishing they had their loved one for more time.
DO
Share your grief story with their permission.
DO
Reach out to close family and friends if you don't know what to do.
DO
Share your experiences in the comments below.
And just when we didn’t think Mustafa could get cuter, we meet baby Mustafa through these photos. Poignant words and wisdom here. Thank you.
When my friend lost her partner, she didn't want to be around anyone who didn't know him. She didn't want to have to explain that she was a widow, living life without her beloved best friend. She made me realize that grieving people might have an extra hard time meeting new folks.