In grief, it’s fine to be ‘fine’
Q My beloved husband died suddenly last year. I have a supportive family and we have all been suffering from shock and the utter misery of losing a much-loved husband and father. My problem is that kind friends ask me, ‘How are you?’ – and I just don’t know what to say. I am bereaved and, after 54 years with the right man, I am finding it hard to establish a solitary identity. The last thing I want to do is to talk about my feelings. I have heard other people say, when tragedy strikes, that people ignore them or cross the street to avoid contact. Well, I am getting to the state when I long for people to do just that. Other people who have themselves suffered bereavement never ask me how I am – they know! They say things like, ‘Hello, nice to see you out and about’, then talk about other things. Just what I need. Angela by email A Try using the ‘F’ word. Because there is a perfectly good answer to the ‘How are you?’ people, and that is, simply, ‘Fine’. ‘Fine’ is a marvellous word. It can mean ‘Fine’, or it can mean ‘Not at all fine, but I’m trying to cope,’ or it can mean ‘I have no meaningful reply to give to you.’ ‘Fine!’ can be said honestly and openly with a genuine smile, or it can be snapped out like a shutter, meaning ‘The subject is now closed.’ Perhaps because it’s derived from the Latin word – ‘Finis’, meaning ‘end’ – there is an added warning in the word ‘Fine’ which doesn’t encourage further conversation on the subject.
If you want to appear a bit more human, you can reply ‘Up and down’, which also doesn’t encourage further discussion, but is perhaps a bit more honest. The problem with bereavement is the anger involved. It’s extremely difficult to say the ‘right’ thing to a bereaved person. If you cross over to the other side of the street, you’re being unsympathetic and, if you ask how a bereaved person is, you’re being intrusive.
On the whole, I think it’s better to assume that most people want to talk but, with the word ‘Fine’, people like me know where we stand. So, although I’m dying to blurt out my sympathy to you, Angela, all I’m going to say is, ‘Don’t know whether to take the umbrella out or leave it at home these days, don’t you find?’