Over the years, we’ve found ourselves having to share with one of our guests the news that someone close to them had passed away. We’ve always chosen to speak first to the person directly affected, and then together with them, to the whole group—so they would feel surrounded by love and so we could attend the funeral as a community.
In cases where a parent had died, we would select a space where the person felt safe and comfortable, making sure that someone with a strong emotional bond was present. At first, we use gentle expressions (“they’ve gone to heaven,” “they’re no longer with us,” “they’ve left us”), but later the message must become clear and direct, naming death (“they have died”) to avoid confusion or misunderstanding. A flood of emotions usually follows—grief, sadness, tears, suffering, acceptance, denial, anger—and we’re ready to welcome them all. Some ask questions; others remain silent. We respond, or we simply stay with them in silence.
When the person who dies is a fellow companion—a friend from the same family home, perhaps even a roommate—the communication takes a different shape. The first time this happened was nearly ten years ago with the passing of Massimo. Later came the sudden loss of Silvia, and more recently, just over a year ago, the death of Alberto.
When it came time to share the news of Alberto’s passing (his mother tells the story in OL no.154), we decided to divide the guests into small groups and speak to them simultaneously but separately. This allowed us to offer a safe space, appropriate support, and individual attention to everyone. Afterwards, we gathered in the common room and—with the help of a guitar, a lit candle, and a photo—we shared our feelings, prayed, sang, remembered, and gave thanks to God for the precious gift of friendship.
We’ve found that communication must also reflect the depth of the relationship with the person who passed away: the closer the bond, the more essential it is to speak one-on-one. When the relationship is less personal, we may speak in a group setting—but always ensuring that anyone who needs closeness or reassurance receives it. These are strategic positions of care and presence, so no one feels alone: a caress, a glance, a hug, a word, or a light, gentle touch on the shoulder is always within reach.
In the days that follow, we often plan special activities to honor the memory of the person we’ve lost: drawings, songs, readings, prayers. Each person chooses the way that suits them best, respecting the needs of those who prefer to grieve quietly. But no one is left alone.
– Ivana Perri (community Il Carro)
