My heart breaks for Sheryl Sandberg’s loss of her husband … and I am so grateful for her honesty, her wisdom and for the effort it took to share her journey. As I read her post on Facebook today, I realized that all of us in medicine could benefit from her thoughts as she ends sheloshim, the Jewish 30 days of mourning for the loss of a spouse.
One of the things that is so hard to teach in medical school (and all other health professions) is to honor the resilience of those we accompany on their journey through times of struggle and loss. It is so hard to let go and realize there is nothing to “fix” in these situations. Far more important than trying to convince our patients, their families or our friends that it will be “better” or that there is “hope”… we need to commit to just being there with them, and walking with them on this very human… but incredibly hard journey.
“I have learned that I never really knew what to say to others in need. I think I got this all wrong before; I tried to assure people that it would be okay, thinking that hope was the most comforting thing I could offer. A friend of mine with late-stage cancer told me that the worst thing people could say to him was “It is going to be okay.” That voice in his head would scream, How do you know it is going to be okay? Do you not understand that I might die? I learned this past month what he was trying to teach me. Real empathy is sometimes not insisting that it will be okay but acknowledging that it is not. When people say to me, “You and your children will find happiness again,” my heart tells me, Yes, I believe that, but I know I will never feel pure joy again. Those who have said, “You will find a new normal, but it will never be as good” comfort me more because they know and speak the truth.”
Thank you for your wisdom, Sheryl. We will hold you in the light.
“We are all just walking each other home.” Ram Dass