Normalise talking about the dead, one anecdote at a time

On Boxing Day some family friends and I got onto the topic of 'talking about those who have passed'. We surmised that it should be normal to talk freely and regularly about our dead loved ones. Yes, they may be dead but they are still our loved ones. Why would we relegate them to dusty history books just because they ceased to live?

Speaking from personal experience – because that is all one can do – I need to talk about my mum. I’ll grab onto any excuse for throwing out an anecdote or two to keep her memory alive and let the legend live on.

It doesn’t make me obsessed. There is no need to start worrying about me. I’m just weaving her naturally into the tapestry of my life from the age of 28 onwards. One year from her death, five years on, thirty-five years down the line, I’ll still be bringing her up. Frankly, it’s weirder to just stop talking about people when they die.

My nearest and dearest will probably be well-rehearsed in these kinds of situations:

Walking near the Royal Albert Hall – 'Mum and I came to The Proms here just before she died. I drove us home (my first time in London) but didn't really know what I was doing. My phone battery died, so we got completely and utterly lost.'

Walking into a bar playing Black Sabbath – ‘Mum luuuurved Black Sabbath. One time when I was little, I heard wailing coming from the living room. I crept in and found her at her turntable with headphones on belting out “Oh no, no, please God help me!”’

You might however find yourself at the opposite end of the spectrum, avoiding bringing them up altogether. It doesn’t suit everyone to dredge up such memories. I guess it depends on your personality and where you are along your grief journey. You could perhaps honour the memory in your head. As long as you don’t suppress anything, especially in the early stages. Find an outlet, even if it’s in a private journal.

If you do find yourself talking about your parents a lot more than you ever did, don’t freak out. I initially found it embarrassing, before I recognised that it’s probably pretty normal. When I started to feel awkward about it or sense awkwardness in the other person, I made light of it and confessed, ‘I keep doing that! But apparently it’s all part of the healing process’. Sure, it’s a fine line between honour and overkill, but why not experiment with that line?

And now we move onto friends and family of those who are grieving their parents.

Personally I love people talking about my mum. It’s a bit like hearing funny stories about yourself when you were little (tell me I’m not alone in that one?). It’s great to hear another person’s perspective on a well known topic. If someone shares a story, quick anecdote or appreciation, it’s a little nugget of gold because it shows me that I’m not the only person who still remembers her. It keeps her alive.

But everyone is different and you may not know if it’s ok to talk about them, wanting to avoid upset. You may feel like to mention them is a sacred privilege reserved only for the higher echelons of the deceased’s collective. And so we find ourselves back at that experimentation line.

Don’t worry about not knowing what's the right or wrong thing to do. You owe it to the person you care about to at least attempt to get it right. Remove yourself from the situation, sack off the fear of the awkwardness and acknowledge that something life-changing has happened here. It deserves a response of some kind. You’ll be able to judge from their reaction if they appreciate it or not. Try talking with them and observe respectfully with your eyes and your ears to see if they want to open up or if your line of enquiry is distressing them.

So, what's your style – are you a chatterbox or prefer to keep the dialogue in your head?