Common Courtesy

On the way into work this morning, a woman in front of me very graciously held the door open for me. I thanked her, and walked in with a smile, happy to know there are still kind people in the world who think of others.


Which brought me to another thought: Common courtesy-- saying please and thank you, doing nice things for others, making eye contact and smiling, calling someone when you are running late out of respect for their time... I'm sure you can think of several examples on your own of things that you consider courtesy. Things that you like others to do for you, that shows that they care.


When was the last time you did this for your partner?


It is so easy, especially when we have been resentful for a long time or even just with someone for a long time, to forget the little things like common courtesy with our partner. Yet these gestures (for many of us, anyways, I hope) come SO easily when it is directed towards others. Even complete strangers, like the above example. Why would we show kindness to others that we are not invested in, yet forget to show that kindness to the person we have committed our life to?


The good news is that common courtesy really is easy, and it can go a long way. Thank your partner for cooking supper, or remembering to do something he/she sometimes forgets (roll of toilet paper, anyone?). Use please when you ask him to get something for you. Yes, even the salt shaker, or something to drink. If you're running late, give your partner a call to let him or her know- even if it is only 10 minutes. These gestures not only say "I love you" but "I respect you" and "I want you to know that I notice these things". It may also motivate your partner to do the little things more often in return.


This week, pick one thing mentioned above, or come up with your own, that you have let slack over the years and start doing it. See what happens.

I don't know what to say!

Quoted from a memoir about a woman who had a stillborn baby, "An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination", Elizabeth McCracken:

"This is why you need everyone you know after a disaster, because there is not one right response. It's what paralyzes people around the grief-stricken, of course, the idea that there are right things to say and wrong things and it's better to say nothing than something clumsy." (p. 76).

I felt compelled to blog about this after having two new patients this week who have experienced a stillbirth. I also had an interesting discussion with a gentleman who knows someone who had a stillbirth and said what is reflected above- that it's easier to say nothing sometimes, even if you know that's not what you're supposed to do.

This can happen with any kind of loss- miscarriage, divorce, loss of a parent, infertility, just to name a few. People often don't know WHAT to say, so they say nothing at all.

This needs to change.

Hearing nothing is so painful for the person who is going through the loss. People fear that they are exaggerating their pain. Or that people don't care about them. Or that their loss is no big deal.

The difficulty is that, on a logical level, I don't for one second believe that most people are thoughtless. I firmly believe that society does not prepare us for how to gracefully respond in grief situations. Death is taboo, it's uncomfortable. And losing a baby is especially uncomfortable. It's not something that's supposed to happen. It shakes up the snow globe of what we know as status quo living.

So what do you do? Say SOMETHING. The following are acceptable:

"I am so sorry that you are hurting"

"I have no idea what you are going through, but I am here to listen, hug and let you cry".

And if that's not comfortable for you-- "Is there anything I can do?"

Also acceptable, if you sincerely find yourself grasping at air is "I have no idea what to say, but I am here for you".

Sometimes there really are no words that feel appropriate. But the goal is not to fix the pain. The goal is to let people know they aren't alone and that their pain is real. The goal is not to rush them through it by promising that "it will be OK" or "temporary" or that "this was God's will". Sit in their pain with them- that is enough. Really.