Those who are grieving the loss of a friend or family member will encounter many pieces of advice. “Everything happens for a reason.” “Time heals all wounds.” “Everybody grieves differently.” Many of these one-liners are tricky to navigate and often feel empty. At times these phrases may offer more confusion and complexity than comfort about the death of a loved one. One common phase I’ve heard over the years is “You can never replace the person who passed away.” My brother died in 2007, 14 years ago. The way I see these phrases in 2021 is completely different than the way I saw it 12 months after he died. And I think that's the nature of these funeral phrases, their application/meanings can slightly differ as the years go by. There are some reasons to why this statement is problematic and an unhealthy way to think about the grief process. It is healthy (and possible) to replace the role of the person who has passed away.

I’ll begin by telling a story about the way my friend Phil helped replaced the role of my brother for a season.

2011 was a very serious year for me. I was mid-way through my masters degree in literature at University of North Carolina at Greensboro. It had been 4 years since I had lost my brother Daniel in a car accident. My life was starting to gain momentum, yet I had no idea how serious and stressful graduate school would be. While the undergraduate experience encouraged companionship amongst its students, graduate school cultivated a kind of competition that seemed slightly more serious than the workplace. The group of students I met in the UNCG graduate program of literature were particularly serious in a way that was unsettling. Never in my life had I met a group of more consistently serious people than in those enrolled in the masters and PHD literature program at UNC-Greensboro.

It was around that same year that I began to realize the absence of my brother Daniel’s sense of humor. At times it felt like God had put Daniel on earth to be my own personal comedian. Obviously, not just for me, but for everyone around me. In a way, it felt like a service on his part to the people around him. He had the ability to make a joke and keep a straight face. To make others laugh, he would sacrifice his own time, energy and dignity. As you can see in the picture here, Daniel asked for an ax for Christmas in 2005, then asked us to take this picture.

I always knew my brother Daniel was funny, but I never thought about how much I would miss his sense of humor. It had been 4 years. How would I replace the laughter that he provided in my life?

And it was at this year in my life when my friend Phil Freeman and I decided to be roommates in Greensboro. Phil Freeman was at UNC-Greensboro getting his masters in Public Administration. During our search for a place to live, Phil received an email from a professor at UNCG asking him if he needed a place to rent for the year. Two UNCG music professors named Jason and Jennifer were going to teach in Europe for the year and needed to rent their house for 12 months. A few days later Phil and I were invited to an “interview” to meet the two professors on a weekday afternoon at their house.

So we showed up to their house somewhat nervous because we hadn’t found a good apartment to rent. To rent a house would be incredible. We met the couple, took a tour of the house and I did my best to show that I was very a polite, trustworthy and responsible young man worthy of taking care of their house while they were in Italy.

A few days went by and Phil eventually got a phone call that they would like Phil and I to rent the house. I thanked God. We were so relieved and excited considering this house was located in a swanky neighborhood right in the middle of Greensboro.

Yet for the next year, even to this day, Phil retells the story of us meeting the two professors as “the day Nate almost ruined our chance to rent the professors” nice house.” He begins this story by saying two main points “The wife looked like she hated Nate. Jennifer had her arms crossed and was staring at Nate. Nate almost ruined our chance to get this house. And do you know why she hated Nate? Because when Nate showed up looking like a homeless dude.”

This story made me laugh so hard. I laughed every time he tells this story, even 10 years later----even though he is making fun of me. I do not remember looking homeless on that day, but sometimes in grad school I sometimes dressed sloppy to show everyone I was still keeping it real. I clearly remember the wife looking skeptical at us desperate guys in our mid-twenties who would be renting their house over the next 12 months. This is story is funny because the couple decided to let us rent the house-----yet the story always goes as if I almost ruined this rental interview.

Phil has the storytelling skill of pointing out the blatant and confusing awkwardness of life in a light-hearted way. He does it mostly about himself, which also gives him the chance to make fun of his friends. This was one moment of many that Phil intentionally made me laugh in a season where I desperately needed someone to make me laugh.

And so Phil took a role of the comedian in my life by pointing out not only the awkwardness of himself and me, but also the funny interactions with the middle-aged people who lived in our neighborhood, the fact that we had a non-motorized lawnmower, the interactions with our fellow grad students and especially the fact that we were poor grad school students living in a nice neighborhood. Renting this nice house felt like a gift from God in a time when I didn’t fully understand God’s plan for my life.

How Do You Fill The Void of Person Who Passed Away?

When someone passes away, a void is created. There are all kinds of roles people play in our lives such as the voice of reason, the confidant, the person who is a good listener, the party planner, or the father figure. There are likely over 100 different roles we could name of ways in which other people serve us which help us thrive as individuals. When people die it shows us how interdependent we are on others. That void is present and real. That person who died likely fulfilled multiple roles in the lives of the bereaved.

A key question most people who are grieving must face is: (1) Can I fill the role? Is it even possible? (2) If so, how would I go about fulfilling that role?

Some might answer question #1 as “No, this role cannot be fulfilled.” However, if the answer to question #1 is “Yes,” you can take steps to fill that role in practical ways. I believe we need to make space for thinking about question #2. If we are open to replacing the person's role, then we are then in a place where we are create a "new normal" and cope with the loss in a more healthy way.

My brother was one of the most unique, original, creative and unpredictable people I’ve ever known or met. I am ready to debate with anyone for the uniqueness of people and the “special-ness” or the idea that people cannot be replicated. I’d be happy to represent my brother in a formal debate as “The Most Unique Person Born in 1986 In Which Society Never Took Notice Of.” I would win this debate. Yet this does not mean that by replacing the role he had in my life that I am doing him a disservice or insulting him in some way. I still repeatedly tell stories about my brother all the time to let my new friends about who he was. There are many advantages to telling stories about those who have passed.

First Corinthians 12 teaches that God has made each person on earth with special gifts. Even if people reject and ignore God, they are still given gifts to be used in many different ways. Each person has the potential to use their gifts to glorify God and bless other people. Some may use their gifts to glorify themselves and/or manipulate other people. That’s the mystery of the gifts we’ve been given. We can use them to serve others or serve ourselves. Yet when we talk about the incredible uniqueness of people, part of it is because of the God-given gifts we see in their personality. First Corinthians 12 makes a clear case for each person being made special in their own way, that’s what makes each person an original. Yet to take this idea one step further this can also encourage us to believe that there are people in America, in your own state, perhaps even in your own community that could fulfill the role of the person who has passed away. Your friend may have died, but there are people out there who have similar gifts that can help you make it through life------and perhaps people who you can create new memories with.

If it is true that other people have God-given gifts, then that means that there are humans who are alive and well in 2021 who have gifts to share. This orients my grief not only looking back into the past to what was tragically lost, but perhaps orients my grief towards the present and future to think about people I may meet today or tomorrow.

Part of the reason I make this argument is that the process of grief is a very lonely experience. Yet the idea of moving forward in new relationships can help prevent the isolation that often comes with grief. There is a real danger in not opening yourself up to new people. CS Lewis says this about opening ourselves up to love another person:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

Lewis’s statement makes it clear that if we do love others, there will be consequences. Opening ourselves up to new friendships can be a dangerous thing. There is a reason people sometimes can be hesitant to open themselves up. However, at the same time, Lewis makes it clear that we can shield ourselves of the benefits of friendship in a time when we desperately need it.

The question then is: how can we stay open to new people even in the difficult pain of grief?

In my experience, I have not walked out into the world seeking out a replacement brother. I did not have a checklist of attributes that match up to my brother. I became friends with Phil Freeman because I needed a room-mate in 2011. That’s how I became friends with Phil. My own needs required me to meet new people. It was only in retrospect that I realized that Phil had similar comedic attributes to my brother.

People may be irreplaceable, but new friends can take the roles of those who have died. To some this might sound insensitive, but keep in mind that I am writing this 14 years after Daniel died, not 14 months after he died. The uniqueness of my brother will never be matched and the pain of losing him is still very real. Yet I also want to recognize the gifts of other people around me to help fill the void that he left. We must continually remember the possibility of receiving life, laughter and joy from new friendships, as I have experienced in my friendships with guys like Phil and many other people. We can also remember our own gifts that we have to share with those who are grieving. What if God used your personality or your gifts to help others cope with the loss of a loved one?