“Did you go through the line?” John asked.

“No. I didn’t feel like I should. They won’t be able to see everyone before things start and I almost feel bad taking up any of their time since I don’t actually know them,” I replied. To me, this explanation sounded reasonable.

Earlier in the week, a co-worker had passed away. His death had been sudden. He was only 54 and he left behind a wife and two children in their early 20s.

He’d been an executive at our company and I had worked with him for six years. While I wasn’t a direct report of his, our company was small enough that our interactions were frequent and I knew him well. His passing was shocking and the entire organization had taken it hard.

Standing outside the church after the service, I again saw the family. The son did his best to stand strong next to his mom and sister. The daughter sobbed and the wife’s face remained stoic and momentarily depleted of any more tears or emotion.

For a moment I thought of saying something, but didn’t. The family was surrounded by loved ones offering support. The last thing they needed was a stranger introducing himself and conveying his condolences. They needed their real friends and family around them. Or, at least, that’s what I told myself.

On my way home, I continued to think about the family and the shock they must be experiencing. They had to feel helpless and I am sure they were longing for some kind of answer that was never going to come. It’s hard to say if anything could comfort or console them at that moment. But, they probably appreciated it when people tried.

The friends and family around them didn’t have the answers. They didn’t know the remedy for this kind of pain. They were there just for the sake of being there so that the family didn’t feel alone.

I tried to think about what I would want in that moment. It’s hard to fathom. I imagined I’d want loved ones surrounding me as well. But, I also imagined that I’d like hearing from people who had known my dad. Whether I knew them or not, I don’t think I’d tire of people offering their support and telling me a fond memory of my recently departed father. I think maybe I’d want people doing what I’d just opted not to do for this family. Or at the very least, I wouldn’t mind it.

I hadn’t said anything because it was awkward for me. It was bullshit for me to think I did it out of respect for the family. It was uncomfortable for me and so I excused myself. But, that was the wrong time to avoid discomfort. It wasn’t about me. It was about them and it was about my friend who’d passed away. He’d have appreciated another person introducing himself to his family. The family would have appreciated another kind word about their departed leader.

No one minds when you speak. We think they might or we think they don’t care, but it’s always appreciated. That old classmate’s mother who you haven’t seen since high school, she would enjoy it if you spoke to her in the grocery store. That other mom from your kid’s class, she’d appreciate it if you introduced yourself at the playground. You’re not being intrusive. You’re being an adult and you’re thinking of others. You’re thinking of what would be nice for someone else rather than what may be uncomfortable for you. So, say something. When that moment comes and you’re debating what to do, say something. They will be glad you did.