Language can be tricky when offering our condolences

Language matters. Words matter. They flavor the mood, tone, attitude, and feelings.

This is very true in general, and especially true when communicating with bereaved friends and family. Especially with electronic communication, it's important to watch what you say. I don't mean honey coat messages, but a positive tone is supportive and appreciated. It needs to be genuine.

Complete communication is difficult in email, texting, and twitter. We don't have the advantage of facial gestures and body language, or even tone of voice, to modify or convey the full meaning of the message. This can lead to misunderstandings or unintentional affronts.

But there are still many ways to add a touch of positivity to electronic communication.

I have a friend who looks for and writes about "smiles." I love to get her emails. She's interested in - and good at - spreading smiles.

I have another friend who always closes her emails and cards to me with the sign off "hugs." That feels good.

I still use the sign off "love," taught to us as children growing up in the Midwest. Not much used any more, but I do.

My granddaughter signs off as "Stay Social." So appropriate today. She's an entrepreneur and CEO of her own social media consulting firm. "Staying social" is important advice in general, and definitely for people with long term grief.

So, language is tricky. The right words can be a great help, but language can trip you up. For instance, if you've lost a spouse or other dear one - a parent, friend, sibling - then you may still say "our" or "we" when referring to them or to things you did together or shared together.

Once, few years ago, my brother cautioned me that I must start saying "my" and "I" instead of "our" and "we." I thought about it, but this is not necessarily true. There are still shared memories - the house you lived in together, children, the car you bought together, etc. I think "our" and "we" is totally appropriate; it's not denial.

My husband always referred to his parents in the present tense even though they died years ago. He said it made him feel as if they were still with him, and I'm sure they were in spirit.

Another situation is talking to your lost one. I do it, but I advise doing this in private. Not everyone understands this need to talk to your beloved spouse or parent or friend. It's an exercise where you invoke memories of advice you used to get from them and their strength that you can draw upon. So, indeed, language and communication is tricky.

Every time I walk down the driveway to get the mail, I think of my dear Baheej and often talk to him. Because he left his hometown Nazareth when he was young, he always relied heavily on the mail for news - and he loved getting mail. So, as I am walking back to the house, I say, "See, I'm getting the mail for you." It makes me feel better.

So, the point is, choose your words carefully and be aware of the tone you convey. Language is powerful. It can make one happy or sad; feeling good or feeling bad. This applies not only to electronic communication and face to face chats, but to the infamous condolence cards and letters we all send.

It is so important to write from the heart and avoid those worn out cliches that usually do not help. Just say you understand, include a personal memory, and say you also miss the beloved.

• Susan Anderson-Khleif of Sleepy Hollow has a Ph.D. in family sociology from Harvard, taught at Wellesley College, and is a retired Motorola executive. Contact her at sakhleif@comcast.net or see her blog longtermgrief.tumblr.com. See previous columns at www.dailyherald.com/topics/Anderson-Kleif-Susan/.