"When grief is freshest, words should be fewest."

Words from Barbara Johnson to Sheila Walsh

Today, I learned this phrase, and it stayed with me.

I don’t know who might be grieving today. Maybe it’s you. You may be grieving the loss of a loved one, the loss of a dream, a job, a home, a friendship. 

Perhaps it’s not even grief in the traditional sense, but the weight of frustration, uncertainty, or doubt.

Whatever it is, your friends are showing up for you, and when we come to support someone we care about, we often arrive with all the advice we can gather. We offer what we know, what we’ve lived through, hoping it helps. I know that’s what I do, I reach into my own experiences, trying to lift someone else up, I gather my box of "advices and tips" and here I go as the problem solver I am, because my friend needs it...But today, I was reminded:

Maybe what my friend needs most is not my words, but my presence. Maybe it’s time for me to be quiet.

To sit.

To stay.

To let my silence speak

A friend of mine once brought a carton of ice cream and two spoons to a friend who had just lost her mother.  Ice cream, two spoons...that was all!

When grief is raw, may we remember:

Fewer words.

Softer words.

Sometimes, no words at all. 

Just love!