How to talk to someone who's lost her or his mom

Before my mother passed on the 22nd of August, I didn't have a clue what grief really was. I'd been very sad especially when my grandmother Mimi died in 1999. I even had an accident coming out of a parking lot, realizing later in tears just how sad I really was. Thankfully, no one was hurt and insurance paid for it. I also cried buckets of tears for the loss of my ex-boyfriend Steven, who took his own life in 2002; the loss of my half-sister Jennifer in 1997; my physician Steve Tamarin in 2008; and my dear friend Kelly O'Brien who also died that year. More recently, I mourned the passing of dear George Draper, who encouraged my coming to King's and didn't mind that I fancied wearing bright blue lipstick to church.

But losing Mom is a whole different life form. If previous losses were a warm up act, they did a very poor job of preparing me for this. Losing Mom has meant losing the one person I spoke to almost every day about everything from my developing dissertation to whether Wally's latest scratch should be of concern (she worried recently that his scratching me should be seen by a doctor, but I assured her my tetanus shot was good for ten years). Mom had a hearty laugh and some would say offbeat sense of humour. She liked to draw, paint, write haikus and short stories, sing and play the piano. She used to hear me play the piano at her house in Texas and remark how well I did considering it was always as much as a year between my sittings at the keyboard. Mom was my one-woman fan, and I played it to the hilt. I always knew that if I did something marginally well, from cooking to writing an academic essay, I was the best in Mom's eyes.

Now that she's gone, I sometimes feel my grief is worsened by what people are saying to me; and this, unfortunately, makes me not want to go out too much. I had a dream that the turtle had gone back in its shell. This was a pretty clear message. So I decided to write this primer for those who would like to comfort me or others in my position:

1. Please don't evoke God or the holy spirit or Allah or whatever your belief system is and project it on to the one grieving. Since I lost Mom I've had a lot of Christians and a few Muslims project their 'God' onto what they feel is best for me and it just makes it hurt more. There are many religions, and they are deserving of respect, but your projection is selfish. Ask how I believe and how I feel and take a cue from that. None of my Jewish relatives has insisted that I pray for Mom.

2. Send a card or flowers! I have only received two cards to date, and the only flowers, forthcoming, are from my bank (I could be cynical and say this was just PR given that I had complained about a measure they had taken, but I appreciate the flowers.)

3. Never ask how old my mother was. This really irks me. Is there a good age to lose your mother? Since you don't know the circumstances surrounding her death, you hardly know if it was 'her time to go' or not.

4. Never ever say flippant things like 'we all die' or 'people die!' Believe it or not, someone actually said the latter after I'd lost my grandmother. I have never forgotten that.

5. Don't take the emotions of the grieving person too seriously, whether we are suffering from extreme sadness or irritability. Don't tell us to 'cheer up' or worry about yourself if we snap at you. I recently had a doctor tell me he didn't like how I'd treated him after I told him my mother had died and was upset that he hadn't offered immediate condolence. I have not met one woman since Mom died who hasn't been kind to me; yet there have been a couple handfuls of men. I do not know why this is. Many wonderful, sensitive men, but some heartless bastards.

Now, I realize most people mean well with their prayers and projections, but I am trying to communicate just how difficult losing one's mother is. In my family religion has been a loaded concept. As a child I remember the conflict between my parents over my going to church. With one Jewish and one Christian parent, it was confusing for me. So it's really rich for anyone to force me, a grown woman, to embrace Christian OR Jewish or any other values. My views are personal and evolving.

So here's what I would like to hear, and have from many: 'I hope your memories comfort you;' 'If there is anything you need, let me know;' 'I know how close you were to your mom and I am so sorry for your loss;' 'we've all been thinking about you.' I had a fantasy that someone would come by and just do my laundry because I was too sad to do normal tasks. I also became malnourished. Someone offering to bring by a Mexican dinner would have been superb.

THANK YOU to all who've offered sympathy and memories of my lovely, funny, kind, one-of-a-kind Mom. I can't imagine my world without her, but now I'm being forced to do just that.