August 9, 2026 – Vol. 30 No. 30
In a message to the Hope Hospice team, Tasha O’Connor wrote,
“I have a confession.
I hate the sympathy card aisle.
Not because I don’t believe in sending sympathy cards. Quite the opposite. Every time I stand there reading them, I catch myself thinking, “No…that’s not quite right.” One says too much. Another doesn’t say enough. Whoever has the job of writing sympathy cards has an impossible job because there simply aren’t words big enough for the hardest losses.
August is National Grief Awareness Month, and this month’s theme is Connection. One of the hardest parts of grief is feeling like you’re carrying something no one else can see. Sometimes people don’t need us to have the perfect words. They just need a tangible reminder that their grief is seen, accepted, and that they aren’t alone.”[1]
I appreciate her words for a couple of reasons.
First, I often find myself standing in the card aisle, searching for the card (birthday, anniversary, or sympathy) that says it just right. On more than one occasion, I chose a blank card with a nice picture on the front and went home to write my own words.
Second, I appreciate the reminder that what people really need as they go through grief is connection. Someone to be there. Someone to acknowledge their pain. Someone to love and accept them in their lowest moments.
Several years ago, a friend of ours lost his wife. The first Sunday he returned to a church gathering, he stood in the hallway with folks surrounding him. My wife walked past him, gently reached out, and put her hand on his shoulder for just a few seconds, then moved on. No words, just a touch on his shoulder. He mentioned many times how much that simple gesture of compassion meant to him.
I often pray when I enter a situation where I know someone is grieving: “Lord, help me to be there and be quiet until You tell me to speak.” That requires me to listen to Him and to the person. Sometimes I need to speak; sometimes I do not. It is important that I know the difference. To know the difference, I must be connected to them and to Him.
Be there. Be quiet.
I love you.
Tom
A Norvell Note © Copyright 2026 Tom Norvell All Rights Reserved
[1] Rev. Tasha O’Connor, LPC-Associate, LCDC Supervised by Bianca Vincent, LMFT-S, LPC-S Grief Services Manage