So, your wife has died

The wife of my [service provider] died, youngish, leaving kids still in school. So I acknowledged it.

I did this because, for me, having other people acknowledge that events have happened is an important part of helping me deal with and incorporate the event, be it wedding or funeral.

But holy cow! I found that I was completely unprepared for the fact that, for my [service provider], this was a real event, that really happened. Not that he broke down, or was polite, or was rude, just that he had to mentally change gears, and deal with it as a real fact, not just a meaningless bit of politeness. Since he was dealing with his own reality, not mine, I don’t think it mattered how I behaved, but obviously, it was the complete opposite to what I wanted: I’m trying to acknowledge a real event, and I’m treating it as a non-event.

In retrospect, I’d be prepared to deal with the subject as a real subject. And I know people who would have been ready in prospect, not retrospect. But there you are: I’ve not dealt with death much, or with people much, and I’m not that good with people in general, and if there’s a next time, I hope to do better.

Oof, that really sucks. My condolences to your service provider and his family, and sympathy as well to you and everybody else in their orbit who’s affected by this tragic event.

I have to confess, though, and maybe it’s just me, that I am completely baffled about what you’re trying to say in your OP that you did, or what you think you did wrong, or what reaction you got that made you recognize how unprepared you were for the reality of the situation.

Other posters may have understood your OP better than I did, in which case never mind, no need to spell out the traumatic details just because I’m a bit slow.

I didn’t understand it either.

Me neither.

I think I get it.

My mom died rather unexpectedly, and at 59 rather young, five years ago this Tuesday.

Prior to her death, I probably said “I’m so sorry” to people who have experienced deaths in their family, but until you either see how difficult it is for the person you’re talking to, or experience a death of a close loved on yourself, your apology is based on an event that’s rather abstract to you so while you have a vague sense of sympathy, you don’t really consider how the person is really dealing with the event.

I saw this first hand the first day I was back at work. Like the OP’s friend, the first couple of days after bereavement leave I too had to shift gears when people awkwardly brought up Mom’s death. I was okay at work…until people derailed me by making me focus on the loss instead of the day’s projects.

It was easy to tell who had experience the death of a parent before and who hadn’t because those who had were far more prepared for it being difficult for me to speak without getting teary or choked up; those who hadn’t seemed startled and unsure of what to say like the OP seems to have been startled.

I think this is what the OP’s saying. He got a reaction beyond the nod of acknowledgment and he could sense it was powerful.

I’m not being a dick, but I feel like the OP is saying his cell phone and internet company’s wife died. I really don’t know what he means by service provider.

I’m going to assume he means a business partner or something.

Anyway, it also depends on how the person died, and their age. A person dying in a car accident at 45 is totally different, I’m sure, than someone dying of cancer at age 79. The latter you have much more time to prepare for, and theres a feeling the person already lived their life.

I’m not sure I understand the OP either, but after my wife died, I heard “I’m so sorry for your loss” so many times, from people I don’t even know, like insurance agents, health care professionals and so on, that it became just kind of a defensive reflex for me to say “thank you” and move the conversation on. There’s really no way to engage with that in a casual conversation.

My German teacher flew home to be with her mother, who then died in her arms.

Before she came back to class, she sent an email telling us that she would appreciate it if we didn’t mention her mother’s passing, due to the emotional consquences. This restriction specifically mentioned this rule was valid for classroom time.

She did not say at that time, but has mentioned in other conversations, that her relationship with her mother was quite strained. Her mother’s death meant this can never get better.

I’m assuming it means someone who provides paid services and who is on friendly speaking terms - house cleaner, gardener, home care assistant, health visitor, or something like that.

We can all list the standard reactions: I’m so sorry for your loss, is there anything I can do, etc.

I’d be eager to learn a more substantial offering to someone who has lost a loved one. Anything I can imagine can easily be taken as standard or sub-standard.

OP - I, too, was confused at first but I think I get it now (see @elfkin477’s post).

mmm

For me, personally, I find it more painful when such a loss is NOT acknowledged. But as @Die_Capacitrix’s post indicates, this is not a universal truth.

Often, simply saying “I’m sorry for your loss” feels inadequate, but it is a pretty safe option unless you know the person well enough to make a more detailed comment.

Sometimes, you get more of a reaction than you expect. Just give the person a moment and take your cue from what they do next. If they change the subject go with that.

Eh, it depends on how close the grieving person was to the deceased. I married man with a shorter than normal life expectancy, had months to prepare for his death from cancer, and it still hit me damn hard. I’ve had other losses that were abrupt, including nephews under 30, that while painful were not as devastating to me because they weren’t as close to me as my husband. All deaths are different, but how they are different, and how much they impact a person, is also very variable and one should be wary of making assumptions.

When my mom died a few years ago, an elderly friend of our family emailed me to convey his sadness at her loss. But then he went a bit further, describing the grief and healing he went through after the loss of his own mother many years earlier. He said that for the first couple of years, thoughts of his mom made him sad - but that over time, thoughts of his mom and other deceased relatives had become a comfort and blessing to him. The crude/brusque way to say it would have been “you’ll get over it,” but my siblings and I agreed that his message was more eloquent and uplifting than that, and I’ve since shared it with friends who have suffered such losses.

Where I work, it’s not uncommon for one of the managers to send a mass email announcing that one of our coworkers has suffered a death in the family. I assume (and hope) this is done with the blessing of the affected employee. When my own mom died, I told my own manager (I took a week off of work), but he didn’t make such an announcement. Upon my return, my officemate asked me if I had enjoyed my vacation, and I barely blurted out “my mom died” before breaking down (evidently a week off wasn’t enough). He engaged me in gentle conversation about the circumstances of her death, and relayed the experience of losing his own parents. He handled the situation well: it was a difficult conversation, but in the aftermath of my clumsy revelation, it was better than awkward silence would have been. Still, I’m glad the whole office didn’t know; I couldn’t have coped with a steady stream of people shaking my hand all day and saying “sorry about your mom”.

When my dad dies, I plan to take more than a week off.

I’m not really sure what the OP is saying either. But if it’s what I think it is, I understand.

My grandpa died when I was 5 years old. That was the first death I experienced and didn’t experience another close death until I was 31. My dad died suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of 54. It hit me hard. At the visitation and funeral there were many people that attended that surprised me. A girl (I should say woman) that I grew up with in the neighborhood and hadn’t seen in probably 20 years was there. I remember thinking how nice it was that she came but then my second thought was, I never went to the funerals of her parents or even acknowledged their deaths. I never gave it a second thought when I read their obits in the newspaper.
When my son died, people were so good to us. The different ways people showed their love for us was amazing - food, money, tears, hugs, stories. He was a hockey player from 5 yo through college. His high school coach brought the entire (current) team in their jerseys to the funeral. I get choked up even now thinking about it. A bunch of his best friends brought a bottle of his favorite wine. After the ceremony they went up to where his urn was, made a toast and they all took a swig from the bottle. One of his friends drove across 2 states by himself to be there.

Those two events changed me. I now know what it means to have people show their care and love to you when you 're at your lowest. I’ll never ignore a death of a loved one of someone I know again. It means so much to the grieving. Even if it’s just a card with a note in it. It helps to know someone cares enough to think of you.

I’ll just add that acknowledging a death many years past can also be valuable. Saying “I remember your sister/uncle/cousin/whatever” every once in awhile can still be comfort many years after the death.

And if someone doesn’t, at the time, come to a funeral or whatever, but years later says “I’m sorry for your loss” I’m OK with that - we can’t all be ready to give of ourselves at all times, and other people have other things going on in their lives.

I agree with this. Grieving is an ongoing thing. I have people that will text me every year on the anniversary of my son’s death (he died 6 years ago). It touches my heart that they remember the date and that they remember me. But mostly because I know that he hasn’t been forgotten by others. I saw a quote somewhere that says,
“The mention of my child’s name may bring tears to my eyes, but it never fails to bring music to my ears. If you are really my friend let me hear the beautiful music of his name. It soothes my broken heart and sings to my soul.”
I other words, I want to talk about him.

Aujourd’hui, maman est morte.

The book L’Étranger opens with the statement that today, mama died (or maybe yesterday, I don’t know)

The whole novel earns its existential label by asking what it means that the protagonist didn’t feel more…

Yep, that phrase translates “Today, mama died”.

@Melbourne, I am sorry that his response shook you up. But someone in mourning can sometimes do this because they are still very bewildered about how their world has been shaken and is struggling through the grief process. It will eventually happen to you, too. There is advice out here on the net on how to approach or respond to someone in deep mourning or loss (might not even be a death, but a house fire or accident). The best thing you can do is listen and acknowledge their loss/confusion/anger.

Here’s one link: Helping Someone Who's Grieving - HelpGuide.org

This is key…

As a young-ish person, it’s easy to rationalize that the death was a fluke, you don’t really know what to say, and so for lack of a planned response you in effect shun the survivors to avoid your own embarrassment. I’ve certainly been there; I suspect most of us have.

One of the benefits (albeit hard-won) of growing and living is dealing with people dying. They just keep doing it, darn it all. And learning how to be gracious in the face of others’ grief and honest with your own fears and misgivings. It’s hard to say something original or actually useful, but it’s important to say something that shows you’re aware the bereaved person is hurting and you’re willing to absorb some tiny sliver of their pain, frustration, anger, or whatever to help them through the next 10 minutes.