Dear friends,
We know it’s hard to know what to say to us. None of us were prepared for this tragedy.
When news spreads that someone you know has lost a loved one to violence, it can stops people in their tracks. The words don’t come easily. You may worry about saying the wrong thing, doing too much—or not enough. We get it. Please know this: we see your discomfort, and we understand it. Honestly, we were once in your shoes feeling tentative in the same way.
So this is for you—not as a scolding, but as a gesture of grace. A little guide, written from the inside, in the hope it makes things easier on both sides of the heartbreak.
1. Please don’t compare this to other types of death—unless it was also homicide.
All losses hurt. But murder..? Murder comes with a unique set of triggers. The shock, injustice, media invasion and a long fight for justice. It’s very personal. If you have lost someone to violence, we will feel an instant bond with you that doesn’t need explaining. But if your comparison is meant to show “we all go through this” it will feel minimizing. It’s better to just say, “I can’t imagine” or “I don’t even have words to explain how I feel.”
2. Don’t try to “fix” us.
We know it’s coming from a good place, but trust us—there is no pep talk or spiritual slogan or court verdict that can undo what’s happened. Grief from homicide is not a puzzle to solve. It’s a wound to tend, and it takes a very long time. Till then – just sit with us. Let us rage or sit in silence. Let our tears come without trying to dry them up. You don’t have to be a therapist. Just being there as a show of support is enough. There are no “right” words. Don’t waste your time trying to find them.
3. Please don’t rush to bring food.
The instinct is kind. And we appreciate it. But in the early days after a homicide, we’re usually too stunned to eat. There may be people coming and going, yes, but grief has a way of putting everything—including digestion—on pause not unlike when you have the flu. If you want to help with food, wait a month or two. That’s when the silence sets in, the chaos dies down, and reality starts to sting even more. A hot meal then can feel like a lifeline.
4. Don’t speculate. Don’t gossip. And please don’t act like we were closer than we were.
We’re already dealing with enough confusion and pain. Having to field questions about what really happened or what kind of person our loved one was is exhausting and, frankly, intrusive. Say less. Show up more. And if you weren’t especially close to us before, that’s okay. You can still be kind now without trying to rewrite history.
5. Know that we won’t “go back to normal.”
There is no “back” after this kind of loss. There’s only forward—slow, uneven, and deeply changed. Some of us may laugh again, work again, even find meaning in life again. But it won’t be the same baseline. Accept that we’re becoming someone new. It’s not your job to understand it—just to respect it.
6. If you feel moved to help, offer something practical.
Sometimes the biggest comfort isn’t a hug, flowers or a card—it’s someone showing up. Don’t say, “Let me know if you need anything.” Instead, try:
- “I’m headed to the pharmacy—need anything?”
- “Can I mow the lawn for you this week?”
- “How about I wash your car?”
These gestures land quietly but deeply. They’re the language of love when words fail. They will never be forgotten in spite of the turmoil.
We don’t expect perfection. You’re human, and so are we. But if you’ve read this far, it means you care—and that already means the world. Thank you for standing with us, even if you’re not sure how. Just keep showing up with honesty, patience, and a willingness to learn. That’s more than enough.
With appreciation,
—A Family Learning to Live with the Unthinkable
