Not Everyone Shares Your Grief
Sometimes, they just want to be reassured that you are in pain.
She was an elderly parishioner at my father’s church so I answered her call, thinking that his passing might be sad for her. Instead, the pseudo-condolence call was merely an excuse for her to immediately shoot a barrage of questions in my direction. Bereavement was no barrier for her as she shot one question after another about my family, my father’s wishes and more. I should have known. She was merely competing with the equally intrusive, obnoxious calls from others, earlier in the day.
“What did he do with his things?”
“What are the rest of your family doing these days?”
“Are you at the same house?”
“How old are your children?”
I wondered if she really thought that this route was in any way appropriate. I gently told her that these questions were tone deaf and painful to answer after a week of the wake and funeral. “Please read the room,” I suggested politely. “There is a time and season to ask these questions but right now is neither,” I added.
She did not stop. She clearly did not care. A doctor by profession, she was used to pushing through to get what she wanted. There was no way to dissuade her from being first among her friends to know the answers to those questions. She continued to drill me mercilessly. I heard the doorbell and used it as an excuse to interrupt her bullet speed queries and wind down the call. She quickly offered ample availability in the future, in case I needed to talk. I realized with amazement that she sincerely thought she was helping. She was so used to being a pushy personality, that in no way did conventions of normal etiquette apply to her.
I hung up as gracefully as I could and blocked her number… just like the rest.
