What a beautiful picture, uninhibited by simplicity, and not afraid of the silence that sometimes accompanies genuine support and love. I’m encouraged by the kindness of a group of 5th-grade boys. The words that they chose to show their love were spelled in the act of huddling in close.
Life brings tragedy and heartache. And as a parent, you will likely have to watch your child experience grief, whether it be over the loss of a special toy, a friendship or boyfriend, or even the life of someone close to them.. And your heart breaks too. Because you want to fix it, resolve it, but you know you can’t. How do you walk through it with them? What words do you say and how do you comfort your grieving child?
Huddling in close is one of the greatest kindnesses we can show our kids during these times.
We don’t have to say anything.
They likely don’t want to explain.
We realize without asking that everything is not fine in their world.
The words that they need are your proximity and your heart’s empathy.
Huddling in close is kindness for the weeping.
In those moments it’s normal to be unsure about what to say or what to do. There is no playbook for comforting our kids or anyone in crisis–except the guidance of love, the whisper of empathy, the holy nudge inside telling us to remain quiet or to reach out. There is no script for explaining to your child the sadness at hand. The best thing we can do is
1) admit that we don’t have an answer and 2) resist the temptation to try to make things better with our words.
Words will come later. Love comes in kindness first.
Be kind by huddling in close without expectation and waiting for them to show you how to love them.
I wish I could get this right more often. The things I’ve heard echoed to me in painful situations over time can be heard escaping my lips before I’ve have had a chance to really weigh how they might be received. No one wants to add tears to a weeping soul. Nor do we ever want to crush to joy of a heart truly in celebration. But sometimes we do one or the other, without even knowing it. And sometimes, even when we’ve messed up, our next step should be to just huddle in close.
Huddle in knowing that love heals us.
Huddle in remembering that love binds us together.
Huddle in knowing that forgiveness will come.
Huddle in knowing that the huddling in type is the kind of community that every kid and family needs.
When my uncle passed away this summer, I was the officiate at his “way too soon” funeral. His only daughter, my precious cousin, faced me in the front row as I talked about her beloved dad. I felt deep in my soul that there weren’t any words that could capture him, there weren’t any words that could honor him best. But I knew that being there was saying what my words could not.
Later that day, my family climbed hay bales in the fields and drove four-wheelers around the land of my uncle’s house. We laughed, remembering all of the adventures we’ve had in the past and all that we hoped for in the future. Without saying anything at all.
Huddle in close. Let the personality of a group of 5th graders be your guide. They’re so okay with not knowing the way and so very willing to walk into it anyway.
What has helped you most when you have experienced grief?
What do you think your kids need most from you when they are walking through it?
Romans 12:15 “Celebrate with those who celebrate and weep with those who weep.”