11 Things to Say When Someone Dies Besides ‘I’m Sorry’
By Angela Haupt
It’s hard to summon any words when someone dies—let alone the right ones. That’s why so many of us let the sympathy cards do the talking. “As a society, we’re uncomfortable with death and grief. We’re not very open to talking about it,” says Katie Cosgrove, a death doula and grief coach in Buffalo, N.Y. Plus, “I think a lot of people, myself included, feel like words aren’t enough to comfort somebody,” which makes it challenging to figure out how to articulate our condolences.
Though it may be the first thing that springs to mind, “I’m sorry” isn’t always the best way to go. It implies responsibility in some way—and simply isn’t as comforting or empathetic as other ways of showing support. Cosgrove also advises steering clear of the age-old cliché that “time heals all wounds.” “That’s what everybody said to me when my dad passed, and it’s just not true,” she says. “Grief doesn’t ever go away. It shifts and changes, but it doesn’t leave us.”
“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and I’m sending you all my strength and love.”
One of the worst things to tell someone who’s grieving is that you know exactly what they're going through. Even if you've also lost a loved one—maybe you’re a widow consoling someone who has newly obtained that title—every loss is unique. Instead, Cosgrove suggests flipping the sentiment over and making it clear that you can’t imagine what it’s like to be in their shoes. “You’re validating their feelings,” she says. “Even if you knew that person really well, you didn’t know them the way your friend or family member knew them,” and it’s impossible to grasp how the loss is really landing for them.
“Please accept my condolences.”
It sounds simple, right? Maybe even generic. Yet the sentiment works well when you’re talking to someone you don’t know well, or when you’re too surprised by the bad news to string any other words together, says Elizabeth Schandelmeier, a grief therapist in Pittsburgh. “It’s preferable to saying ‘I’m sorry,’ because it doesn't put the bereaved person in the position of having to console you by saying it’s OK,” she points out. “Or, if they’re angry in the moment, [it keeps them] from snapping back that you don't need to be sorry because it wasn't your fault.”
“Your husband was a wonderful person. I have this cherished memory of him when [explain a thoughtful memory].”
When people tell Cosgrove they’re going to a wake or a funeral and don't know what to say, she encourages them to share a story. “I can tell you from personal experience that stories about people I've lost and never heard before are like little nuggets of gold,” she says. “It’s a beautiful way to cherish their memory and show that you really loved them.” If you don’t have a story of your own, you could invite your friend to share one of their favorite memories if they feel up to it. There’s sometimes a misconception that talking about the deceased will be too painful—when, in fact, the opposite is often true.
“Is it OK if I stop by in a few days with lunch? I know the kids are involved in a lot of activities. Do you need any help getting them to games?”
Acts of service can be invaluable, especially in the early days of grief, when someone's energy is zapped. “They’re having to tend to so many things—taking something off their plate not only says, ‘I’m here for you and I'm supporting you,’ but it truly helps reduce the burden on them,” says Whitney Menarcheck, a licensed professional counselor in Pittsburgh who specializes in grief. “That may give them time to focus on the flower arrangements or take a nap.” The more specific your offer, the better; having to think about what kind of help to ask for might dissuade someone from asking at all.
“I'm holding space for you in my heart.”
People aren’t always in the habit of telling others that they’re “holding space” for them, Cosgrove acknowledges. Yet she finds it’s a powerful way to convey that, while you can’t make their pain better, you will be present with them as they navigate through it. That’s why this is one of her go-to expressions when talking to the bereaved. “It’s a simple way to let the person know you’re thinking of them, their experience is both unique and universal, and that dealing with loss is incredibly hard,” she says.
“I'll always remember their smile [or laugh].”
This is a powerful way to memorialize someone’s physical presence—and reinforce to their loved ones that they won’t be forgotten. You might describe the mischievous twinkle in their eyes when they told a joke, or the pink streaks they dyed in their hair. “Grief can be very surreal,” Cosgrove says. “We’re scared of losing that person, or forgetting them, so knowing what somebody else out in the world is going to remember is really helpful.”
“I know a lot of people don't know what to do when someone dies by suicide, and that can leave the person who's grieving feeling alone. I'm here for you.”
Menarcheck uses the term “disenfranchised grief” to describe loss that tends to be minimized or misunderstood—like when someone dies by suicide or because of an overdose, or when the bereaved had a complicated relationship with the deceased. She recalls that once, when she checked in with a friend whose ex-husband had died, the woman replied: “Why does everyone think that just because we weren’t married anymore, I don’t care that he’s dead?” That speaks to the importance of always reaching out and letting your friends know you're thinking of them, no matter the circumstances of the loss.
“Do you want my help, or do you want me to just listen?”
Sometimes without even realizing it, we slip into advice mode—trying to help fix the unfixable. That’s not always what someone needs. The most valuable thing you can do might be lending an ear. If your friend asks whether they've already told you a story about the person they’re grieving, “You can say yes, but that you’d love to hear it again,” Schandelmeier says.
“Is it OK if I give you a hug right now?”
Always respect personal space: Not everyone wants to be pulled into an embrace or have their hand patted, even or especially when they’re grieving. If it’s typical for you to hug when you see each other, you’re probably fine—but if you want to throw your arms around a second cousin you last saw two decades ago, it’s best to ask first. “What gives you comfort doesn't always give others comfort,” Menarcheck points out. “If they say no, just be like, ‘Well, I’m thinking of you,’ and don't take it personally.”
“Hey, I know Sunday mornings were a special routine for you and your dad. Just thinking about you.”
Maybe your friend and her dad went for a walk together every Sunday morning. On the first—or second or third or 13th—Sunday after his death, check in to remind her you’re there for her. The same advice applies to birthdays, anniversaries, and other special occasions. The key is not making any assumptions about how your friend might be feeling, Menarcheck advises. (“You must be so devastated today!”) “It gives the person an opportunity to respond and say, ‘Wow, thanks. I’ve been struggling,’” she notes. “Or they may say, ‘I was just thinking about this really funny thing that happened between me and my dad.” Allow your friend’s response to direct where the conversation goes from there.
“I was watching the Cubs play, and I remember your son really loved them. It made me smile thinking about it.”
No matter how much time has passed since someone died, bring them up when you feel moved to do so. You were shopping and saw a Hawaiian shirt they would have loved? Heard their favorite song on the radio? Say it. “People who die become elephants in the room,” Menarcheck says. “But all we want to do sometimes is talk about them. We want to laugh about them, we want to talk about what drove us nuts about them, and we want them to continue existing through our memories and stories.”
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