Here is a sample letter of condolence you might send a friend (when you didn’t know the deceased):

Dear Janice,

This morning James told us the sad news of your mother’s death.

My family and I extend our heartfelt sympathy to you and your family. The loss must touch you very deeply as you face these first numbing day of grief. I know you will miss her deeply.

I recall the glint in your eye when you spoke of how much fun you had together when you made, years ago, those ceramic Christmas ornaments that now adorn your tree every year. I know Carol was a talented, vibrant woman and you will miss her. I also know that you recognize the blessings of the beautiful years you shared. You were such a source of courage and strength to Carol as her health declined and I trust those same qualities will help guide you during this difficult time.

You have my sympathy and friendship and I will call this weekend to see if I can take the children for the afternoon or perhaps run some errands for you.

My heart and my tears are with you,
Melanie

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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In my last post I gave some ideas about what to write in a letter of condolence.

In closing your letter, you’ll want to reflect your feelings (and the feelings of others members in your household if you are speaking on behalf of your family). You can do that with a word:

“Yours truly,” “Sincerely,” “Fondly,” “Love,”

Or, with a phrase:

“My [Our] love is with you always.”

“My [Our] heart[s] and my [our] tears are with you.”

“We all join in sending you our heartfelt love.”

“We share in your grief and send you our love.”

“You are in my [our] thoughts and prayers.”

“My [Our] prayers and thoughts are with you.”

“My [Our] thoughts are with you now and I [we] send you my [our] deepest sympathy.”

In my next post I’ll share a sample letter of condolence.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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You just heard about the death of —- (someone you knew) and now you want to write a letter of condolence to the bereaved…but you aren’t sure what to write.

Here are some tips:

Express your sorrow sincerely. –Be honest…and write the way you would normally speak to the person. Let the bereaved know you care about the anguish of their loss.

You can note how you came to hear of the death (and yes it’s OK to use the word ‘death’ and even use the word ‘suicide’) and express your shock and dismay upon hearing about it. (By conveying your sadness you help remind the bereaved that they are not alone.)

*Mention the deceased by name.

Note a special quality of the deceased…a characteristic you cherished. (“S/he had such a keen wit [courage, leadership, devotion…].” “S/he had such a generous nature.”)

And share one or more stories, remembrances or anecdotes of the deceased. (“I remember when…” “S/he influenced my life by…” “S/he touched my heart when…”) –This helps remind the bereaved that their beloved was appreciated by others.

And don’t be afraid to share a humorous incident—laughter helps heal.

Remind the bereaved of their strengths.

And share any loving remarks that the deceased made about the bereaved.

If you sincerely wish to offer your assistance, do so—but make sure to offer something specific (helping with correspondence, running errands or shopping, taking care of children…) and make sure you follow up on your promise!

And remember, it’s always more personal to hand-write the note on stationary instead of writing up your thoughts on the computer and printing it.

In my next post I’ll give some ideas on what to say in closing your letter of condolence.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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Communication is:

Reaching out to yourself in others,
And allowing them to reach out to themselves in you.
It is daring to share,
And caring enough to be real.

There is no Us against Them.
There is only you and I and all that we can give one another.
We are not here to be Right or to make each other Wrong.
We are only here to learn and to help each other grow along the way.

I could learn so much from you if you’d only let me look at the world through your eyes for a while and see the way it looks to you.
And if you were to see the way it looks to me, you might learn something too…
Because to me communication is just another word for caring.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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Do you want to make positive changes this year?

To have the best success, try making small changes.

Imagine yourself making the change…and then write down (in detail) the steps you’ll take to reach your goal (how you’ll achieve it).

And ask yourself why you want to make the change (if you are clear about what you want and why you want it, you are more likely to succeed at doing it).

And keep a journal to track what is, and isn’t, working for you.

And remember…be patient with yourself.

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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His Quote Of A Lifetime:

“I would rather have days where I am happy to be alive as opposed to days where I am lucky to be alive.”

~David Schilke (seated near the man who allegedly attempted to ignite explosives aboard the Christmas Day 2009 Amsterdam to Detroit flight)

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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Each of us has a hidden place
Somewhere deep within ourselves;
A place where we go to get away,
To think things through,
To be alone, to be ourselves.

This unique place, where we confront our deepest feelings,
Becomes a storehouse of all our hopes,
All our needs, all our dreams,
And even our unspoken fears.
It encompasses the essence of who we are and what we want to be.

But now and then, whether by chance or design,
Someone discovers a way into that place we thought was ours alone.
And we allow that person to see, to feel and to share
All the reason, all the uncertainty
And all the emotion we’ve stored up there.

That person adds new perspective to our hidden realm,
Then quietly settles down in his own corner of our special place,
Where a bit of himself will stay forever.
And we call that person a friend.
~ by Carol Elaine Faivre-Scott ~

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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“To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me.  It is the most-requested column I’ve ever written.”

1. Life isn’t fair, but it’s still good.

2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.

3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

4. Don’t take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

5. Pay off your credit cards every month.

6. You don’t have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

7. Cry with someone. It’s more healing than crying alone.

8. It’s OK to get angry with God. He can take it.

9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.

10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.

11. Make peace with your past so it won’t screw up the present.

12. It’s OK to let your children see you cry.

13. Don’t compare your life to others’. You have no idea what their journey is all about.

14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn’t be in it.

15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don’t worry; God never blinks.

16. Life is too short for long pity parties. Get busy living, or get busy dying.

17. You can get through anything if you stay put in today.

18. A writer writes. If you want to be a writer, write.

19. It’s never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.

20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don’t take no for an answer.

21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don’t save it for a special occasion. Today is special.

22. Overprepare, then go with the flow.

23. Be eccentric now. Don’t wait for old age to wear purple.

24. The most important sex organ is the brain.

25. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: “In five years, will this matter?”

27. Always choose life.

28. Forgive everyone everything.

29. What other people think of you is none of your business.

30. Time heals almost everything. Give time time.

31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

32. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.

33. Believe in miracles.

34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn’t do.

35. Whatever doesn’t kill you really does make you stronger.

36. Growing old beats the alternative – dying young.

37. Your children get only one childhood. Make it memorable.

38. Read the Psalms. They cover every human emotion.

39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.

40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else’s, we’d grab ours back.

41. Don’t audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.

42. Get rid of anything that isn’t useful, beautiful or joyful.

43. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.

44. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

45. The best is yet to come.

46. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

47. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

48. If you don’t ask, you don’t get.

49. Yield.

50. Life isn’t tied with a bow, but it’s still a gift.

~Regina Brett

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving. 

It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn’t been enough money to buy me the rifle I’d wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.

After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn’t in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn’t get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn’t figure it out because we had already done all the chores.. I didn’t worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity. Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. “Come on, Matt,” he said. “Bundle up good, it’s cold out tonight.” I was really upset then. Not only wasn’t I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason I could see. I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one’s feet when he’d told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn’t know what…  

Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn’t going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn’t happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. “I think we’ll put on the high sideboards,” he said. “Here, help me.” The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on. 

After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood – the wood I’d spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting.. What was he doing? Finally I said something. “Pa,” I asked, “what are you doing?” You been by the Widow Jensen’s lately?” he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight.

Yeah,” I said, “Why?” “I rode by just today,” Pa said. “Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They’re out of wood, Matt.” That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for an other armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. “What’s in the little sack?” I asked. “Shoes, they’re out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunnysacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without a little candy.” 

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen’s pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn’t have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn’t have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy?  Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us. It shouldn’t have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, “Who is it?” “Lucas Miles, Ma’am, and my son, Matt, could we come in for a bit?” 

Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. 

“We brought you a few things, Ma’am,” Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children – sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say somethin’ but it wouldn’t come out. 

“We brought a load of wood too, Ma’am,” Pa said. He turned to me and said, “Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let’s get that fire up to size and heat this place up.” I wasn’t the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn’t speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I’d never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people. 

I soon had the fire blazing and everyone’s spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a 

smile that probably hadn’t crossed her face for a long  time. She finally turned to us. “God bless you,” she said. “I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us.”

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I’d never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it. 

Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord, the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes. Tears were running down Widow Jensen’s face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn’t want us to go. I could see they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine. 

At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, “The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We’ll be by to get you about eleven. It’ll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn’t been little for quite a spell.” I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away. 

Widow Jensen nodded and said, “Thank you, Brother Miles. I don’t have to say, May the Lord bless you, I know for certain He will.” Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn’t even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, “Matt, I want you to know something. Your Ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn’t have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your Ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you the rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that, but on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand.”

I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen’s face and the radiant smiles of her three children.

For the rest of my life, Whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.
~From a children’s book called “A Christmas Prayer” by Rian B. Anderson

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
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“When you learn your lessons, the pain goes away. When we have passed the tests we are sent to Earth to learn, we are allowed to graduate. We are allowed to shed our body, which imprisons our souls…”

~ Dr. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Melanie Hack
Author of Who Killed My Sister, My friend
Read an excerpt now
TV Shows and Clips about the Death of Cindy James