Shiva in a grief-illiterate world

Today’s reality in Israel unfortunately means that many of us are either hosting or visiting a shiva that involves traumatic grief. While some people suggest that all deaths involve trauma, I would like to offer what I have gleaned from my own personal, non-professional experience as a survivor living with traumatic grief. I hope that these reflections will help inform anyone who nobly chooses to enter homes where shiva is being observed.

To clarify, traumatic grief differs from traditional grief in that it can involve any of the following: sudden or unexpected death, death as a result of suicide, drugs, violence, terrorism or accidents. It can manifest as PTSD symptoms for the bereaved survivors, who are then faced, if they observe shiva, with the daunting task of receiving well-meaning visitors in their homes who wish to express love, support, appreciation, honor…this list is endless.

And now back to the reality in Israel, which involves personal and community activism both on and off social media, thereby putting many of our friends, neighbors or community members in the spotlight. In these “high-profile” situations that unfortunately involve traumatic death, shiva homes are not surprisingly overcrowded. It is likely that traumatized survivors are experiencing a mix of reactions to the crowds. On the one hand they might appreciate how many people are showing up, literally and figuratively; and yet, on the other hand, they might feel totally overwhelmed and exhausted by the sheer numbers, and by the endless one-on-one contact demanded of them. Can we maybe rethink and transform this dynamic, so that a shiva visit doesn’t mandate such attention from a traumatized mourner?

I’ve been to more than one of these shiva environments, where the crowd management strategy is to create a line to provide physical space for the bereaved. This inevitably creates anxiety, drama or other line-crossing behaviors that violate a perceived unspoken social agreement, which is based on a presumption that visitors are entitled to have personal contact with those sitting shiva. Well-meaning people expressing that they had traveled from other cities in order to be there, or defending their place in the line either by arguing or physically pushing, etc. I don’t understand why visitors can’t take turns sitting silently for a bit of time with or near the traumatized survivors to simply allow them the courtesy of choosing when, whether and with whom to engage. Most of us know that “best practices” in shiva include not initiating contact with mourners.

If you are seeking a personal audience or contact with traumatized survivors during shiva, please consider an alternative approach and be mindful to give them full autonomy in regulating their interactions with visitors. Your quiet presence has enormous power in a shiva house, even if you might not be noticed personally. Think about it. At a funeral, this is a huge chesed, in that you know that you might not be seen, but you have shown up, both in body and in spirit, to add to the community of people walking alongside traumatized bereaved survivors at their beginning of an excruciating journey.

Yes, even in a shiva house, if you aren’t seen or noticed, you can opt out of the face-to-face contact line, sit quietly on the side or in the back, and offer strength, love and prayers for traumatized survivors. Somewhere in the universe, your pure physical presence in a shiva house counts, and that is enough.