A dear friend’s grandmother died yesterday. I called to talk to her, knowing she’d need to talk to about it and to cry. I know that being there to listen helped, but there was one point in the conversation where I had a really hard time providing the comfort she needs. She is a Christian, I am an atheist. She started pressing me about what I believe regarding her grandmother’s fate. I kept trying to deflect her, saying that I’m just making my best guess like all the other fallible humans on this earth, and that what is important is what she believes. She knows, though (from past conversations), that I believe nothing of a person continues after death, and the thought was scaring the bejeezus out of her.
I did my best to reassure her, but it was really tough to see her doubting her own faith and knowing that my beliefs were what scared her most. I think I did a good job when all was said and done, but I really felt like I was the wrong person to provide comfort at that moment. In the end, I know my call helped, but oy!
I don’t know that there’s anything you could say that would respect her beliefs without compromising your own. I tend to stick to things like, “I’m so glad you have your church to turn to when things are hard - you know you can call on me if you ever need a shoulder to cry on.”
I think in saying that what YOU believe is not as important now as what SHE believes was the right thing to do.
The only honest way to go about it I can think of is to try and convey the nothingness we go to as a peaceful thing. But if she continutes to freak, that’s no help.
Maybe a comparison to the nothingness we were before we were born might help. Nobody freaks out because we were nothing before conception. Was there something unpleasant about the fact that she didn’t exist, say, in 1905? Why should it be unpleasant to not exist in 2005?
Of course, this is applying logic to an emotional response, which often doesn’t work for shit.
That’s the hardest part of trying to comfort someone whose beleifs are so different than yours. I simply can’t wrap my brain around why it’s scary. Intellectually, I can sort of work it out. And I can totally see how you’d miss the person and take comfort from the thought that you’d see them again some day. That, to me, emotionally, would be the chief value of beleiving in an afterlife. And, um, yeah, I guess it’s just part of our survival instinct that the notion of not surviving is scary.
But on a gut level, I just can’t grok why it would be so horrifying to contemplate that somebody ceases to exist. It’s not like they’re suffering. It’s not like they’re hanging around in inky blackness all alone and howling in agony. They’re not happy, they’re not sad, they’re not cold, they’re not hot, they’re just not. I don’t get why that’s something to be frightened of. To me, being afraid of being dead is like being afraid of being asleep.
I sympathize with you, mrklutz, and your friend, too. I hope that soon she will come to able to accept her grandmother’s death with a sense of peace, and treasure her happy memories.
I hear ya, Podkayne. It’s not a scary idea to me either. But it is to her, very much so. About the only thing I can do at this point is try to coax her away from the thoughts that disturb her and (like you say) focus on the happy memories. I know there are plenty of those, because it was obvious to me on a daily basis that she loved her grandma. I think I just need to keep reminding her of those things for a little while.
Of course, I’ll probably stick with my tried and true standby. When in doubt, just listen.
I always feel awkward when everybody else can say they’re praying for someone and I can’t. I actually see it on the 'net much more than I hear it in person. I can’t say that and even with people who don’t know I’m an atheist I won’t pretend to, so it closes the door on a lot of easy things to say. So I feel akward about it and then I say whatever I’m really thinking, which is usually on the order of “I’m sorry.” I’d like to think it’s the emotion and the sympathy that counts, not the actual words you use to express it.
That would be a supremely difficult situation and I’m glad no one has ever asked me that question. I guess they wouldn’t, because they know how I feel, but still. I think you gave all the best answers and did what you could.
Well, that would work in many instances, but in this case it really wouldn’t. She was old, yes, and frail, but still doing quite well, all in all. She was in a nursing home but had just finished her appointment at the hairdressers. She was sitting in her chair, coiffed and smiling, when suddenly she was gone.
It was a dignified, apparently painless death, and she was 96 years old. All in all, an ideal way to go. Still, when it’s someone you love, it hurts like hell. No one of any faith has the words to change that (as I know firsthand). Still, I just wish I could have done more to comfort my friend.
Thanks to all for your kind words and suggestions. There’s a good bunch of people around here.
I’m a little surprised to hear this - I thought the idea of death as an ultimate, final end was scary to everone, at least at some point in their lives. I’ve never had any religious education or influence, and I used to be terrified of the idea that one day there will be no me. Just complete nothingness. I wouldn’t even know I died because there’ll be no me to perceive it.
I eventually got over it by thinking that (1) If life didn’t have a beginning and an end it wouldn’t be so precious and meaningful, and (2) Part of me will continue to exist - in people’s memories, in things I’ve created, in countless subtle changes I’ve influenced in the world.
In that case, I’ve often found a great thing to do, when the initial pain is over, is to say something along the lines of, “She did live a beautiful life, didn’t she? Remember when…” and segue into a story about the deceased. Oftentimes you’ll end up smiling and remembering the good times you had with the lady rather than simply mourning.
“In times like this, it’s important to remember that life is a futile and meaningless struggle that ends in the total annihilation of the self, a brief flicker of light in an all-consuming oblivion, and that when we are gone, all that remains are the increasingly faded and distorted memories of those who knew us, and even those memories will be lost forever in the passing of time.”
I’ve always liked “Death is that state in which one exists only in the memories of others,” from the Captain. When they die, they become something inside of us, whether it’s a piece of their spirit, or just the neuro-chemical flash memory cell that stores them.
When someone dies, we need to cope with our loss more than their oblivion. I think. It’s funny, despite my own fear of death, I’ve never been afraid for anyone else’s soul. Tell your friend even the atheists agree there’s no reason to worry.
Well… you said she already knows your beliefs, and was pressing you anyway, so maybe she was really looking to find some kind of comfort outside her faith. Perhaps she was asking you, “What if grandma and I were wrong in our faith? Whay happens now?”
I think your response was fine, but if you are looking for alternate approaches perhaps you could try and explain your sense of comfort about the absense of an afterlife, also without an accompanying punishment or accountability for all one’s worldly deeds.
And while this is certainly not a thread to get into an extended discussion of the “flavors” of atheism, it’s possible to be one and still inagine some manner of continued existence beyond the death of the body. Some kind of universal enery field that absorbs her essence, or the like – some form of narural process that we can’t perceive with our senses. I hear there are at least 10 or eleven dimensions: who knows, maybe the energy of the dead gets folded into them. This isn’t my personal belief, but if someone is deeply disturbed by the absence of an afterlife, one like this might offer more comfort than one with a cranky and erratic God.
I forgot to add one more piece of advice anouy such discussions – don’t in any manner attempt to challenge the foundations of their beliefs. So if you do choose to delve onto a more protracted philosophical discussion of atheism. don’t say anything that suggests you made a rational choice and they didn’t.