My most comfortable way of saying “I am sorry” is serving fellow mourners the tea and bread we normally serve during wakes, and washing the cups thereafter before leaving.
If you’re among those that have mastered the art of comforting those in mourning, I’d appreciate more pointers.
Sometime in March this year, I bumped into an acquaintance I hadn’t seen in a couple of months. The last time I had seen her, she was almost giving birth to her first child, therefore the baby would have been around eight months. After the usual chitchat, I asked, “Boy and girl?” only to be met with silence and eyes that immediately misted up with tears. Eventually, she said in a strangled voice, “I lost the baby…”
I have never been as tongue-tied as I was at that moment. I debated between saying “I’m sorry” but I immediately dismissed it, sure that it would have sounded hollow and inadequate in the face of such a painful matter.
