Babka, Grief and the Return to Work

The morning after my father died unexpectedly in February, a chocolate babka arrived on my porch. Later, a promise of a porch visit from the friend who delivered it. It was cold and gray, we were 11 months into a global pandemic – far from ideal circumstances – but there we were a few hours later: she, bundled and balancing on my front steps, masked and socially distanced. Me, hovering on cushion-free porch furniture, still in a state of shock. I don’t remember the conversation but imagine that I rambled. She asked few questions, listened, and suggested we do it again.

I can’t say that I felt comfort – there’s little to be had in those early days – but I did feel something special being with someone who understood the power of presence, of holding space for a friend in pain. In the weeks that followed, she returned, she checked in, and her presence was so keen that she quickly became one of the few people I wanted to see.

Many of us, including myself, will be returning to the office soon. There is a lot being written about these returns, of vaccine requirements, office masks, meeting structure, commutes, and more. I encourage people to add to the list of ‘return to work topics’: grief.

In the last year, half a million more Americans have died – countless families and individuals have been impacted by the events of the last 15 months. When you return, look around you for those not quite themselves, those having trouble with routines, seeming inconsistent, irritable, or anti-social.

The office isn’t always the easiest place to cope with grief. There is stigma in suffering, to showing weakness, and we do our best to not show any cracks. Lisa Keefauver, who is a grief educator and brilliant host of the podcast “Grief is a Sneaky Bitch” astutely describes the US as a “grief avoidant culture.” Weakness, especially weakness in the form of something as intense as grief, is uncharted territory for many – when faced with a grieving colleague or friend, many will fear doing the wrong thing, and cope through avoidance.  

But leaning into grief doesn’t have to be complicated. Babka and the promise of company – and the safety from awkward questions and platitudes – wasn’t the most elaborate gift I received after losing my father, but it was one of the most powerful.

Look for your colleagues who may be struggling, those sitting awkwardly through talk of post-pandemic reunions. Acknowledge the loss, allow them to talk, to be vulnerable in a space that doesn’t typically encourage weakness. Offer specific suggestions (“free for a walk at 3?”) and be present. Let the person experiencing loss take the lead. Know that grief is a long and inconsistent process, so be patient.  

Two months after my father died, I lost my beloved father-in-law. If two significant losses coming so close together sounds like a tidal wave … that’s exactly what it felt like. But I know that I’m not alone in this wave. Not this year.

A year into the global pandemic, I asked nonprofit CEOs how they are doing and found many reflecting on more authentic dialogue in their workplaces (see: How We’re Working). This is a heartening change, one that allows space for real conversations that enable people to be more present in the workplace. Compassion, authenticity, and connection should be the norm, and it can be. In 2021, it needs to be.

Learn more about the symptoms of grief. 

To try the chocolate babka, visit Liv Breads.

To contact me, please email slundberg@dhrinternational.com