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It’s nearly inevitable. When someone dies, especially if the person had a tough life or suffered through illness, visitors, loved ones, and preachers offer comfort to survivors by saying, “She’s in a better place.” Few people realize the lack of consolation that offers.
First, do not assume your clients actually believe in the existence of that “better place.” Some religious traditions teach as such, and some do not. Some adherents to a religious tradition firmly believe it; some do not, or at least they have their doubts. Even if the family’s belief system allows for it, tragedy can knock the foundations of faith out from under them, and they need time and reflection to rebuild those foundations in ways that are sustaining for them. The last thing they need is to have would-be comforters instructing them on what they are supposed to believe, even though it comes from a sincere desire to help.
Another factor is that especially in the initial instance and usually for quite a while down the road, survivors can hardly imagine a “better place” for their loved one than right here by their side. Yes, the person is no longer suffering and there is a sense of relief for that, and yet the absence is huge and the pain is immense. This often combines with a sense of disbelief they actually died. The family adopts a routine of caregiving for the ill person, even to the point of defining their identity, purpose and reason for getting out of bed in the morning by their role as caregiver. Particularly if the ill person has endured several crises and rallied to stability again, the family starts to assume the pattern as a reasonable one, believing that the person will always survive. When their loved one actually dies, it is a shock they find hard to comprehend. The survivors, especially a spouse, no longer knows who they are or why they get up in the morning, because the focal point of their life is gone.
Besides, the phrase can feel to mourners like they are being chastised for being sad. Sometimes the chastisement is even explicitly spoken: “You shouldn’t be sad; that’s selfish.” Or “Don’t you realize your loved one is in a better place? You wouldn’t wish them back here in pain, would you?” Or “You’d be better off if you stop crying and think about how happy she is.” Or “Don’t be sad! She’ll be waiting right there for you when it’s your turn!”
Here is the truth: Grief from the death of a beloved person is always a mixed experience. There are indeed things for which your clients are grateful—i.e. that she’s not suffering, that he’s in heaven (if that aligns with their belief system), that no one needs to keep constant vigil, that the person lived long and well, etc. Yet at the very same time, survivors desperately miss that irreplaceable laugh, touch, wisdom or presence. If you recognize both sides of the experience, you offer far more consolation than if you only focus on the positive.
When you are faced with the death of a client’s family member, say or write things such as: “It must be a relief that she’s finally free from suffering, and I know you cherish the precious memories of your life with her. And yet, it’s hard to ignore the pain in your heart now and the gaping void caused by her absence in your life.”
Or: “After a long illness, I find that most of my clients bounce back and forth between gratitude for the person’s life and that they are out of pain, and sadness over their absence. That’s entirely normal and expected. I hope you can let yourself experience what it’s like for you without blaming or judging yourself (or letting anyone else do so). I will be right here with you to help you be patient and allow the grief as part of the healing process.”
Then allow time in your appointments to listen, help them name their mixed emotions and create a safe space for them—something that so many others are not providing. When you acknowledge and validate your client’s experience of intensely mixed emotions, you immediately stand out from those who urge them to suppress the uncomfortable half of the equation. You offer genuine consolation, your client feels understood and you become a trusted resource through the transition. Help a client work through both their financial issues and their emotional struggles, and you’ll have a client for life.
Amy Florian is the CEO of Corgenius, combining neuroscience and psychology to train financial professions in how to build strong relationships with clients through all the losses and transitions of life.
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