Don’t shy away from the language of loss | Brief letters

Polly Hudson writes about how people don’t know what to say to the bereaved (26 August). Trust me, the bereaved don’t either. My parents died in a car crash. I watched people sheer away in absolute mind-numbing embarrassment, not because they didn’t care, but because they were afraid they would make it worse. Well, you can’t make it worse, trust me. And we’re not looking for poetry. A simple “I’m sorry for your loss” is perfect.
Isobel Cassidy
Ardtrasna, County Sligo, Ireland

It seems appropriate to write about grief following a bereavement to thank the fellow Guardian letter writers who have contacted me via the letters editor. Their kind words have really helped me over the last few weeks, and are read and reread on a regular basis.
Ian Grieve
Gordon Bennett, Llangollen canal

My husband, Bob, who died in 2017 from motor neurone disease 20 months after diagnosis, said he found that people who asked “How are you today?” were aware that some days are less shit than others.
Helen Keats
Brighstone, Isle of Wight

Autumn is a wonderful season, but it’s even better in the bleak midwinter (Letters, 31 August).
Andrew Carroll
Castletimon, County Wicklow, Ireland

I used to resist the temptation to read any letter about nominative determinism. Now I just give in.
Peter Cave
Ilkeston, Derbyshire

Is it not time to stop this correspondence?
Roger Brake
Shaftesbury, Dorset