Never say my condolences again.

Toto'sDad

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You’re not just going to be laid by the side of the road like some old highline pole?
That's probably what will happen, since when the guys break for lunch, somebody will probably come and steal the casket for a relative that be needing it over across the river in Oildale. Probably lean me up by a highline pole and park a Walmart shopping cart next to me, and I'd just blend right in. Stick a sign on me that says, need money, the cops will kick it in passing gear when they go by.
 

nojazzhere

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I used to usually say, "Sorry for your loss".......but somewhere in the 1980's that was heard in every TV show being made, and it sounds like a tired and unoriginal cliche now. Now, I usually say sorry about your mom/sister/wife etc. Having lost both my parents, I feel nothing anyone can say really makes me feel better, but at the same time ANYTHING they might say is a little comforting. Just remember....they all MEAN WELL, and time will make the pain a little more bearable.
(apologies to TD and others who have lost children.....I can't imagine anything ever making that better. :( )
 

Buckaroo65

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That's probably what will happen, since when the guys break for lunch, somebody will probably come and steal the casket for a relative that be needing it over across the river in Oildale. Probably lean me up by a highline pole and park a Walmart shopping cart next to me, and I'd just blend right in. Stick a sign on me that says, need money, the cops will kick it in passing gear when they go by.
My sister works in Oildale. I’ll have her stop and put a box of donuts in your cart so the cops will pull over and talk to you.
 

PhoenixBill

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Ten years ago, I found the woman I loved lying dead on my living room floor. I was devastated beyond description. People showed up for visiting and the funeral and I’m sure they said things to me but I don’t know what; nothing they said even registered. Nothing could bring her back. Nothing could ease my grief. Nothing could take away my pain, nothing could diminish my agony. Nothing could repair the hole in my heart (which still hasn’t completely healed after ten years, to be honest). Yet, even though their words perhaps may have been awkward or clumsy or even trite, they cared enough to stop what they were doing and show up. They offered empathy and I am grateful that they cared enough to come.
 

Nightclub Dwight

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Ten years ago, I found the woman I loved lying dead on my living room floor. I was devastated beyond description. People showed up for visiting and the funeral and I’m sure they said things to me but I don’t know what; nothing they said even registered. Nothing could bring her back. Nothing could ease my grief. Nothing could take away my pain, nothing could diminish my agony. Nothing could repair the hole in my heart (which still hasn’t completely healed after ten years, to be honest). Yet, even though their words perhaps may have been awkward or clumsy or even trite, they cared enough to stop what they were doing and show up. They offered empathy and I am grateful that they cared enough to come.
It didn't seem right to "like" your post, so instead let me just say that you lived through my worst fear. Sometimes hearing other people talk about things like this puts it into better context within our own minds. So, in a way, your short paragraph here has helped me.
 

Nightclub Dwight

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You know, by the time I get around to kicking it, there won't even be anyone left who knew me. I can just see it now out at the graveyard, two guys with a hand truck upending me, and tumbling me off in the hole. One guy looks over at the other and says, did you know him? The other says, no, but it's lunch time ese, he can wait for the covering up until we eat.
I always tell my partner to cremate me and mix me into the compost pile. I've worked our garden ever since we bought our house, so I may as well work it after I'm gone. At least I can do some good.
 

dsutton24

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Not only do we have to comply with the wackydoodle societal rules that change hourly and that no one can agree on, but now we've got to somehow know the other guy's idiosyncrasies and be sensitive to them too?

I've been through this a lot over the past few months. Nobody knows what to say, they're embarrassed and worried. I'm just thankful that there are people who care enough to express some kind words, and I know that unsaid words are not a sign that the other guy is an unfeeling clod.

Nobody knows what you expect them to say and how to say it. Getting tangled up in that kind of thing is just self-pity. Grace is a wonderful gift.
 

Beebe

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One thing I liked about Judaism (as I was practicing orthodox when married to my ex) is the tradition that those visiting to comfort mourners aren't supposed to talk to those in mourning unless spoken to first. Just dropping off a meal in the kitchen and being there, maybe a hug, is enough.
 

soundchaser59

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Funerals are for the living not the dead.
As are cemeteries.
I like to think I'm not afraid of dying, I'm afraid of not living. The older I get the less dying scares me, and the more I look forward to the challenge of going as long as I can. Most immediate goal is to stay healthy long enough to retire and have unbridled fun again.
 

soundchaser59

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It's especially awkward when the death is self-inflicted. There just isn't ANYTHING appropriate ever going to come out of ANYONE'S mouth at one of those funerals.
My best friend's older brother did that in about the most messy way you can imagine, in his own home while the rest of his family were at Easter services (20 years ago). My friend started out the first few years afterward saying, "It took a lot of guts to do that." It took him several years, but after he got counseling he finally one day told us all, "I was wrong. What my brother did was chickensh*t." Everybody nodded in agreement. Loved the man but despise what he did to himself. The only good thing that came from it was the other family members who had been threatening suicide never spoke of suicide again. Oddly, all the family grudges and disputes silently faded away.

I'm sick of hearing so many characters on tv shows and in movies say "I'm sorry for your loss."
 
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telemnemonics

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To funerals I bring my Oujia board.

Condolences I offer to people I meet who tell me they're artists.

One of the above is true.

I've been told by a young Mom that she was gonna kill the next person who told her "God needed another little angel".
I think my opening line to her had been along the lines of "how are you holding up?".

Life is harder if we decide to be careful with our words.
Life is also harder if we fling words about as if they had no effect.
Figure we have a choice about such choices, and also that we dont always have to make our proclamation.
Took me many years to realize (nearly) silent attentive presence is often the best we can be in such situations.

Just as funerals are for the living, more than a few words may be all about us, not about whoever we imagine we are helping.
 

TheFuzzDog

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I ve buried a bunch, and for the love of god who is still alive, please say i am going to miss him, or i am here with you, or whatever . but please, no condolensces.

It doesn't sound cool or anything. Just come up with something which is heart felt. He was an an==hole but at least he died is better.
If I ever meet you, I will be sure not to offer you condolences. In the meantime, I will offer whatever the aitch ee yup yup I feel like to people I do know.
 

24 track

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Ten years ago, I found the woman I loved lying dead on my living room floor. I was devastated beyond description. People showed up for visiting and the funeral and I’m sure they said things to me but I don’t know what; nothing they said even registered. Nothing could bring her back. Nothing could ease my grief. Nothing could take away my pain, nothing could diminish my agony. Nothing could repair the hole in my heart (which still hasn’t completely healed after ten years, to be honest). Yet, even though their words perhaps may have been awkward or clumsy or even trite, they cared enough to stop what they were doing and show up. They offered empathy and I am grateful that they cared enough to come.
some times in a moment of unsurmountable shock, just to know some one has your back ,even if nothing is spoken is a comfort, although the world is a horrible place in your heart at that time , most say the obligatory condolences because they cant say or dont know how to say anything else but to let you know they care then get uncomfortable and run away.
I have always kept my family close to me for that purpose and my last words to them will never be in anger , I would rather wrap my arms around those I love, and tell them I love them even if I am seathing in disagreement , time is short for us so , frustration is a waste of time.

I'm here for the party , not the heart break , but tears will come all too soon.
 

1955

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“Con” means “with.” I remember using that ordering a Coca Cola with mucho ice in Spain.

“Dolere” means to grieve or suffer.

In the 1600’s, the two were used together as “condolere,” which means to suffer or grieve with.

I looked it up out of curiosity, and there is also a French relationship. “J'offre mes sincères condoléances.”

I took three years of French in High School, but hated every minute of it, aside from eating chocolate sandwiches.
 

Dan German

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If anyone is even vaguely like me, they are struggling to find something to say in those situations. Desperately latching onto a cliché is not surprising. I would be more concerned by someone who had something prepared to say.

Side note: I despise the funeral tradition. Wakes yes, funerals no. The first two times I lost someone close to me, I was in my mid-20s. My grandfather (who raised me) died, and I couldn’t make the funeral. The family got me to what they said was a “memorial service” at the gravesite in Wisconsin. Turned out to be a full-on funeral, with relatives who hadn’t seen me since pre-school years. And I was informed at the literal last second that I was a pallbearer. The next year, my mother died. I went home, having made my feelings clear about the previous year’s debacle, and was assured that I was just there for a private close-family service. Instead, there were hundreds present, including news crews. I’m blathering, but I hope you can see that I’m a little bitter about the whole issue.

I don’t worry about what peripheral people say, and how they say it, they mean well.
 




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