I felt exactly like your friend. It’s hard because everyone else moves on with life while you feel like you’re frozen in time. I found myself on auto-pilot most of the time.

I agree with you on the importance of ritual. I wish that I’d had more rituals myself to help me through that time.

Thanks for recommending that article. It was excellent.

It made me think of my friend. She returned to her job as a reference librarian 3 days after her mother’s funeral. She told me that every time someone came up to ask her something, she screamed in her brain, “why are you asking me such stupid questions. don’t you know my mom just died?”

I believe that rituals are important. Those of us who aren’t religious affiliated need to find rituals for important life (and death) events.

I can relate to this one. After I lost my mom, I’ve had a few friends go through the same thing. I always make sure to warn them about the stupid things people will say to them as well – usually from a well-meaning place, but no less infuriating when you’re the recipient. People really don’t know what to say when comforting others. (I assure my friends that it is okay to get angry about those stupid things, but to maybe vent about it later than taking it out on the well-meaning but misguided people saying them. That approach worked for me, anyway. Anger really was an important part of my grieving process, but I digress.)

I have to agree that it sounds like Judaism hits the right notes in a lot of ways.

Following up on this note, I read an article a few years ago that captured a lot of how I felt when grieving: http://www.slate.com/articles/life/grieving/features/2009/the_long_goodbye/the_long_goodbye.html. I don’t know if you’ve read it, but it’s an excellent piece. (The author’s mother had the same cancer as my mom, which made it especially poignant.)

You are so right that people are stupid in grief, and not just when they are expressing their own, but also when they attempt to comfort others. Whenever someone I know loses a loved one and prepares to sit shiva, I always warn them, “At some point during the next week, someone is going to say something really stupid to you. Please understand they’re saying it because they don’t know what to say.” One person, who is now deceased himself, left his business cards (he was an insurance salesman) lying around the house at my father’s shiva.

I might be biased, but I do think Judaism nails mourning rituals. You are given time to mourn, you are given time to heal, and a process to guide you through it. The traditional phrase one says to someone sitting shiva is, “May G-d comfort you among the mourners of Zion and Israel.” May G-d grant that comfort to all the people of Newtown, CT, and to all those whose lives were touched by unspeakable tragedy.

Those are some of the wisest words I’ve ever heard. I have been thinking about that a great deal since Friday. I didn’t understand some of the reactions I saw, but everyone processes things differently. Having dealt with some serious grief in my own life, I try to remember that every reaction is valid in its own way, and it’s not my place to judge how others grieve (even when their way of grieving is to judge how others are grieving). Grief is one of the most personal things, in my opinion – you’re so right that sometimes the best course is just to let it be rather than reacting. It’s tough though.