Really, all you can do is be available.

How horrific. I can't even begin to imagine the depth of her grief. Could you get her address and send her a card? Or call her? Sometimes people just need to talk.

She doesn't live in the DC area, does she? I have a (male) work colleague who's son just died under the same circumstances, and I'm wondering if it's the same family.

It's really, really sad that it's probably not the same kid, though, huh?

If you know her address can you call up a local delivery place and have food sent to her?

Ooh, good idea desjardins.

mrmoonpie, no this was out in Idaho. But gosh how terrible there were two of these events at all. Is there are support group out there for people dealing with this sort of thing? I wonder if either of them could help each other through it?

I could probably get her address with some digging, too. I know that she is at her mom's place a few hours away, surrounded by family right now.

Thanks, you guys.

desjardins' idea is a really good one. Our neighbors did something similar for my family years ago, and I still think of it with gratitude. (They pre-ordered us a meal from a local take-out place, but arranged it so we could pick it up anytime that weekend. It worked very well for us, especially since they pre-ordered a variety of dishes so we didn't have to think about the details. If you have something delivered, you have to be sure that someone will be home to receive it.)

But anything you can do is better than doing nothing. And of course lots of people are stepping up right now to offer support; if you can continue to stand by her in the long run, that's even more helpful. My own experience, echoed all too poignantly by a recently widowed friend, is that the first outpouring of support tapers off sharply after a month or two.

[I apologize; I sound totally like my mom giving a lesson in Appropriate Grieving Etiquette. Ugh.]

As with any grieving situation, lots of people say "Let me know if there's anything I can do" but nothing happens because either they don't follow up or (more likely) there's no way the grieving person(s) can articulate what they need or want at a particular time.

So if you know where she is, and you know of some gentle, helpful things you can do to show support, just go ahead and do them. But you can also ask specific things in ways that ask for specific, simple answers. "Would you like it if I told other people on this board we're a part of?" "If you're thinking about a place for memorials can go, can I help you set it up online?" "Do you need a ride to the airport?" "I have a trusted friend who lives in the next town over. Is it okay if she stops by to drop something off?"

Or just "What can I do?" instead of "Let me know if I can do anything."

Healthy, easy-to-pick-up food is huge. EVERYBODY gives you tomato-based casseroles, but fresh fruit or sandwich fixings, etc. are super useful, particularly because lots of people will be coming and going and need things that are easy to nibble or take along. And nobody will be thinking about health, etc. at a time like this, but heavy, sugary, unhealthy foods can make a sad person feel even worse.

Since you're far away: gift card to a local restaurant or grocery store, Edible Arrangements fruit bouquet (they're delicious, and I think flowers would depress the hell out of me), Zingerman's package (if you can afford it), etc.

A handwritten note would mean a lot. Even the smallest memories of the deceased person can be really meaningful to read over. If she mentioned her son, just think about those times and write them down. Knowing that someone far away knew about and cared about my family member would be a great reminder that he won't be forgotten.

I agree that sharing support further down the line is a big deal.

Madamina has it covered.

I'd just add that a call from you, to talk about him and her memories of him, would likely mean a lot. It is amazing how healing it is to grieve with friends.

Losing a child is the worst sort of loss I could imagine. When it did happen it was far worse than I had imagined. I'll leave you with two thoughts. First one big, second less so.

Offer to listen to her. In person, on the phone, or via e-mail. She will need to talk at some point. From an earlier comment I made here at mecha:

"Having gone through some grief recently I would say be willing to listen if she wants to talk. If she does not want to talk then talk to her. Don't be quiet. Chat about anything in general. If you are silent it may make her feel that she is a burden on you. Let her know you are still available.

If you talk and she seems disinterested or put off then stop but come back another time. It may take a long time before she wants to talk about the loss or even just talk about anything at all. Just let her know she can talk to you about anything when she wants to. I did not want to talk about the death of my son for a long time. I sometimes still don't. But because I did not want to talk some people were afraid to talk to me. After a bit I came to feel like a burden on them.

So, communicate and give her space at the same time."

You can do nothing that will actively make things better for her but if you listen it WILL HELP. People will say they are supportive but when you do find that you are willing to talk about your dead child they will likely back away. I can't blame them. Who wants to really confront that? The experience pushed me far away from many friends close, casual, near, far, and virtual.

The inability to talk about my loss cost me, emotionally, psychically, and monetarily, dearly. It's only in the last 9 months that I have moved back to the living world.

She will, hopefully, find other parents of dead children to talk with. That is the one place you can say the things that you really feel. It is a strange new community but a community just the same. In the meantime let her know you will listen.

As for the food I'll just say be careful. When my sister in law died a few Christmases back we threw out obscene amounts of food when the fridge, the freezer, and the chest freezer were full (looking back we could have found a food bank or something but it was not a priority.)

Hugs to you both.

Thanks arsey. I had forgotten about your experience. Hugs back.