Where did everyone go? And what do I do with this stuff?

It is a common refrain by group participants that after a few weeks and months friends have disappeared. Hurt and puzzlement is written all over their faces. “What happened? No one calls me now. They were all around at first, and then, poof! I don’t understand.”

We often talk about this emotional impasse. The group is a safe and understanding place to express anything and everything because participants are all on the same journey, though in different vehicles and going at different speeds.

We are a death-averse and grief-averse society and no one knows how to deal with great loss until it happens to him/her. In this framework, the disappearance of friends is understandable. How can you know about something before you experience it? Someone will say with humility that they did not understand what a friend or relative was going through years earlier before they, too, lost someone dear.

So there we have it. Friends and family probably do not feel comfortable with their feelings and avoid you, the griever. It hurts. We realize that we need to let people know what we want and do not want, though that seems unfair. Why does the beleaguered sorrower have to help other people know what to say?

It is possible to brainstorm what to say to others who ask how you are, or who call too much, or never call. Other people do want to help, but, even when they have had their own loss, they do not know how to help you. They will appreciate hearing what you need and do not need.

Something to ponder: While good friends and neighbors may want very much to relieve your pain, they can do so only, even with a tip from you, within the limit of their emotional ability. One person’s raw pain can feel like fire to someone who is not able or ready to feel their own pain.

Contacting people who seem to have dropped off the face of the earth can feel risky but dividends are large.

 

Some approaches:

• Hi. I am calling because I haven’t heard from you and I know you love me and probably don’t know what to say. Is that right?

• There is no way you would know this, but you know what I would like? To go out to lunch once a month with you. And talk about (loved one).

• It is fine to talk about (loved one). In fact, I love reminiscing.

 

All This Stuff!

Then there’s the stuff. Where did it all come from? Everything reminds you of your lost loved one. People have different schedules for dealing with the departed’s possessions, clothing, knickknacks, etc.

Some cannot open that closet or that box for weeks and months. Some people turn down every photo in the house while others put more around. Every object is replete with meaning, overflowing with memories and significance. Can we stand it?

We speak in the group about personal victories. One woman was able to open that drawer last week (applause). A man went to a fave restaurant by himself (applause). A sister called that brother who has been estranged (applause). A bereaved mother got out of bed by 9 a.m. every day last week (major applause). An adult took a few (not all) of her mother’s dresses to a charity.

Sometimes people wear items of clothing that belonged to the loved one. The smells and textures of the clothing are poignant sensations that both hurt and comfort.

“No, I haven’t touched her bureau. The comb, brush, and perfume are exactly as she liked them.” “I haven’t been able to sleep in our bed for a year. I sleep on the roll-out bed downstairs.”

Essentially, there is an organic quality to this. Keep things that matter; donate the rest.

You can take a photo before giving away a special item. To everything there is a season, including holding on to physical stuff until the loved one’s presence is integrated.

Eileen Epperson leads both virtual and in-person grief support groups. Reach out to her at elethegriefjourney@gmail.com

The views expressed here are not necessarily those of The Lakeville Journal and The Journal does not support or oppose candidates for public office.

Latest News

One dead, two hurt in Sharon car crash

Emergency responders block Amenia Union Road in Sharon Saturday, Oct. 11, while responding to the vehicle crash.

Photo by Patrick L. Sullivan

SHARON — Emergency crews were called Saturday, Oct. 11, to Amenia Union Road in Sharon for a report of a vehicle into a building with entrapment.

The call went out shortly after 3 p.m. with an update at 3:20 p.m. reporting one dead on arrival, two conscious. Emergency helicopter transport was requested.

Keep ReadingShow less
Rhys V. Bowen

LAKEVILLE — Rhys V. Bowen, 65, of Foxboro, Massachusetts, died unexpectedly in his sleep on Sept. 15, 2025. Rhys was born in Sharon, Connecticut, on April 9, 1960 to Anne H. Bowen and the late John G. Bowen. His brother, David, died in 1979.

Rhys grew up at The Hotchkiss School in Lakeville, where his father taught English. Attending Hotchkiss, Rhys excelled in academics and played soccer, basketball, and baseball. During these years, he also learned the challenges and joys of running, and continued to run at least 50 miles a week, until the day he died.

Keep ReadingShow less
Kelsey K. Horton

LAKEVILLE — Kelsey K. Horton, 43, a lifelong area resident, died peacefully on Saturday, Sept. 27, 2025, at Norwalk Hospital in Norwalk, Connecticut, following a courageous battle with cancer. Kelsey worked as a certified nursing assistant and administrative assistant at Noble Horizons in Salisbury, from 1999 until 2024, where she was a very respected and loved member of their nursing and administrative staff.

Born Oct. 4, 1981, in Sharon, she was the daughter of W. Craig Kellogg of Southern Pines, North Carolina, and JoAnne (Lukens) Tuncy and her husband Donald of Millerton, New York. Kelsey graduated with the class of 1999 from Webutuck High School in Amenia and from BOCES in 1999 with a certificate from the CNA program as well. She was a longtime member of the Lakeville United Methodist Church in Lakeville. On Oct. 11, 2003, in Poughkeepsie, New York, she married James Horton. Jimmy survives at home in Lakeville. Kelsey loved camping every summer at Waubeeka Family Campground in Copake, and she volunteered as a cheer coach for A.R.C. Cheerleading for many years. Kelsey also enjoyed hiking and gardening in her spare time and spending time with her loving family and many dear friends.

Keep ReadingShow less
Eliot Warren Brown

SHARON — On Sept. 27, Eliot Warren Brown was shot and killed at age 47 at his home in New Orleans, Louisiana, in a random act of violence by a young man in need of mental health services. Eliot was born and raised in Sharon, Connecticut, and attended Indian Mountain School and Concord Academy in Massachusetts. He graduated from the School of the Art Institute of Chicago. He and his wife Brooke moved to New Orleans to answer the call for help in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina and fell in love with the city.

In addition to his wife Brooke, Eliot leaves behind his parents Malcolm and Louise Brown, his sisters Lucia (Thaddeus) and Carla (Ruairi), three nephews, and extended family and friends spread far and wide.

Keep ReadingShow less