Cliche Annoyances

They say that every cliche gets its start from a kernel of truth. Possibly, perhaps even probably. However, at this juncture in my life, there are some I am just so sick of hearing, if I never hear them again, it will be too soon. The people saying them mean well, and undoubtedly don't know what else to say, and have no way of knowing how many times a day I'm hearing them, but I swear, if I have to continue to hear them repeatedly, someone's going to die. Oh yeah, someone is going to die. Which is the whole reason I'm hearing all these cliches in the first place.
He'll be in a better place.
That's awfully presumptuous of a person, don't you think? These well wishers not only are assuming they know the faith of the dying person, but also apparently know the personal relationship that person has with God and Jesus. How does that person, who only means well, truly know what they are saying isn't highly offensive? If the dying person is a believer, it can be very comforting to know they will be going to heaven, but if they believe it's all a bunch of crap, those well meaning words can be just so much trite.
It's for the best.
What they really are trying to say is that the suffering will be over, which can be very a comforting thought after a long battle with a painful illness. But what is really for the best would be for the illness to not have happened in the first place. And who are they to say what's for the best? How do they know what's best for this person? How did they get a direct line to God when the rest of us just have to muddle through?
You're so strong.
Did they somehow get the impression that I enjoyed this? That I didn't want to be curled up in a ball somewhere under a rock bawling my eyes out? I'm not particularly strong, but there are people who need me right now, more than I need to be sobbing. I have my moments where I'm not able to stop crying, but honestly, these people are family friends or more distant relatives, and my grief is too private to be sharing with them. So yes, to them it may look like strength, but it's really just an unwillingness to share something I consider private.
What a blessing you are to your parents.
This is sort of in keeping with the strength thing. It's my father who's dying, and his death is imminent. However, I have always been physically and emotionally close to my parents. So now, in their time of greatest need, why would I suddenly choose to go on vacation to Aruba? Do these people really think that I would be anywhere but where I am? If nothing else, my mother needs me to fend off all these cliches that she shouldn't have to handle alone.
If you need anything, don't hesitate to call- really- I mean it.
This one makes me a little nutso because the people who truly mean it are calling us, doing something, letting us know they're here. They offer a little support without being overbearing. If they're running to town, they'll check to see if we need anything. They're stopping in for short visits and not staying all day and bringing something with them. They don't have to reiterate over and over that they really do mean it when they say they'll do anything. The trouble I have with believing the people who say they mean it is that they'll usually call, say "let me know if you need anything," and then you don't hear from them again until the funeral, where they say it again. These people just want something to say, but don't actually mean it, and aren't the people you're going to call in your darkest hour.
She's really going to rely on you when he's gone.
Well, no kidding. Because all of you guests and visitors who are only making more work for me right now are obviously going to disappear after the wake, leaving me with a mountain of dishes and a heartbroken mother. Who the hell do they think has been here since the beginning of time? My father was diagnosed nearly six years ago and told his children first. Do these people think that was accidental? Of course not. It's easy to swoop in and think you're doing some good deed, but we're a family, and that isn't going to stop when the paternal unit has died. She's still going to be my mother, and just because you don't have a reason to come see her anymore doesn't mean I won't. Not only is she my mother, but she's my children's grandmother, and my neighbor, and none of that will change. Jackasses.
It's all part of God's Plan.
Assuming again you know our faith, then you'd know we already know this. Or you'd know we don't believe it. Either way, you're verbalizing your own faith, really, and why can't you just keep your big trap shut about it? Pray if you'd like, and even say that you're offering prayers for the family. But don't just spout off the first shop-worn cliches you can think of.
You're so young to have to go through this.
This little gem has been offered to me, to my father (who is 48) and to my mother (who is 46). We know we're all young. We know it seems as if he's too young to die. But really, is it for the best to end his suffering, part of God's plan, or is he too young? I mean, you can't have it every which way. And what about the children and babies who die? At least he got to see his children grown, get to know his grandchildren some, and the life he had was good with no regrets. As for my mother, what age is good for being a widow? Is it better to wait until you've been married 50 years? 40? I don't know what age is the right age to lose a parent, but there are little children losing theirs all the time.
It couldn't have happened to a nicer guy.
My father is extremely well known and well liked, not just in our small town, but in surrounding towns as well, and he is a nice guy with an excellent reputation. That being said, what do people say to those people who have been jerks all their lives? You know it isn't only nice guys getting sick and dying. So when an extremely un-nice guy gets sick, do they say "well, that's what you get for being such an ass to people"? Somehow I doubt it. We know he's a good guy, but no one deserves cancer or any illness, and since we do have faith, we don't believe God works that way, anyhow. My father isn't Job.
It's so sudden.
Actually, jackass, it's been six years. Where the hell have you been? Were you driving him to chemo or radiation or the two stem cell transplants? Did you call after his five surgeries or check up on him the four times he was bedridden for months at a time or all the times he was on a feeding tube? It seems sudden because now that he has days to live the well-meaning people are coming out of the woodwork to pay their respects and see how sick he is. He actually looks sick, unlike the times before, when he'd haul himself out a few times a year to make an appearance, and forced himself to act like everything was fine. Apparently the feeding tube, colostomy, lack of hair, and wheelchair didn't tip them off before.
You've all kept your spirits up.
Well, unlike apparently everyone else in the world, we've been here watching him, and we're realistic. We know every little change, and we have been dealing with this for nearly six years. We aren't happy about it, but we've done what we can to make our peace with it. Is it going to help to have you come in here sobbing and to have me sobbing nonstop too? Somehow I doubt it. Not only that but I really think this is more surprising to you than it is to me. Also, you're annoying me. You barely even know the guy, so get a grip. Here you are, telling me how much better off he's going to be, then you start crying, and telling me I shouldn't be so damned happy? Get ahold of yourself before I shake you.
My aunt's sister tried this and it helped.
Do NOT come in here, in my father's last days, spouting off some cockamamie story about someone you knew having some other disease and trying some other medicine and being cured, helped, saved, or relieved. I will beat you severely about the head and chest. I don't care if it's a cold sore, hang nail, the hiccups, goose bumps, cancer, measles, a runny nose, or toe nails that needed to be trimmed. You keep all your stories about all your people to yourself or you will be maimed. Do you not think, after all this time, after all the treatments he's tried, that if there were some miracle cure or some treatment that could bring him even the slightest bit of comfort, we wouldn't have already tried it? Do not tell me you only mean well. I don't care if you're 25 or 85, I will personally see to it that you are removed from the property, and I won't care if it's gently or not. You will NOT make my mother feel worse than she already does, and trust me, there is not one person on the face of this planet who could provide my father better care than she has and does and is, and if anything, anything could be done to provide him more comfort, she has tried it. So shut up.
You need to keep your strength up.
Well, are we so strong, or do we need to keep our strength up? My mother especially gets this one, and as my mother is tiny, people feel the need to comment on that as well. Generally, people say to me, "Your mother is so strong be sure she eats she needs to keep her strength up" all in one sentence, as if she's not an adult with fully functioning mental faculties. I have perfected the smile-and-nod as I usher people out the door. The thing is, my mother is naturally tiny, which people who know her know. It's plain to see, but whatever. I do make sure she eats, but it's really none of anyone else's business if she's washing down a handful of Xanax with a fifth of vodka a day on an empty stomach, to my way of thinking. She isn't, but if she were, I certainly wouldn't tell anyone, especially not anyone who tells me what they think my mother needs.
How are you holding up? No, really- How ARE you?
When family friends are asking me, in passing, "how are you?" as they come in to visit, I answer "fine, thanks, how're you?" because my parents raised me with enough manners to answer a direct question. It's a conditioned response that we all give, and it really means nothing. Most of the time, I will listen if they answer, but they aren't there to make small talk with me, they're there to visit my dad. I understand that, and don't particularly care to make small talk with them anyhow. However, when they say "no, really- how ARE you?" and really expect me to answer them with an in-depth personal answer about the state of my emotional well-being, well, that just isn't going to happen. Most of the time, I really am just fine at the particular moment, so I'll answer right back "fine, thanks, how ARE you??" with a direct stare in their eyes, but sometimes, I'll just look at them blankly, as if to say, "what in the world are you asking me that question for, is there something going on I don't know about?" which really makes them uncomfortable. I clearly am not going to unleash my feelings on these people- these aren't my people. My people know who they are, and I know I can call them anytime, and they'll be there, emotionally, physically. They'll talk, sit, make me laugh, let me cry, whatever- but they won't force me into a conversation I don't want to have just to make themselves feel better.
I just don't know what to say.
Well, then, shut up. No one knows what to say. Maybe you could say "I'm sorry for your loss" and leave it at that. Since we haven't actually had a loss, "I'm here for you" works. Or there's the old standby "I'm thinking of you." My friend who's the furthest away from me said that in a text message, and it was the thing that meant the most. Having to comfort our friends makes our own grieving even harder. I get so frustrated watching my mom try to tell people "it's ok, we're ok, please don't be so sad"... gah! Why can't these people get their act together before coming in?! It is okay to be sad, of course, but don't be so sad that the grieving family feels like they have to comfort you! Besides, I'm kinda mean, and I'll just tell you to get a grip.

So I guess that's the majority of my list. I truly do know everyone means well, and I guess I had to get it off my chest here so I didn't take it out on some well-wisher who came to call. We're blessed that that many people care.