Navigating difficult conversations is never easy, especially when a family is facing the unimaginable pain of childhood cancer. Inspired by the experiences of two mothers, Mindy Dykes and Laura Sobiech, who have both walked this challenging path, we shed light on what words offer genuine comfort and which, though perhaps well-intended, can actually cause more pain. Understanding the right “Family Things To Do” in these situations extends beyond actions; it begins with thoughtful communication.
Here are supportive phrases that resonated with Mindy and Laura, offering guidance on how to connect with families during these trying times:
“I am so sorry for the struggle you face—I think of you often—and I wish every good thing for you and your family.”
These words, simple yet profound, acknowledge the family’s hardship without minimizing their experience. For Laura Sobiech (LS), these phrases “let me know you care.” Mindy Dykes (MD) reflects that hearing this makes her think, “Thank you, we love being remembered and we want to think of good-ness in our futures, too.” This is one of the most meaningful “family things to do” – simply letting them know they are in your thoughts.
“I pray for you every morning,” or “I pray for you whenever I’m at church.”
Specificity adds weight to your words. LS appreciated hearing the specifics of prayers, noting, “It lets us know that you really are doing what you say. And, I liked knowing that people were praying for us because, quite frankly, there were days when I couldn’t do it.” Offering spiritual support is a valuable way to show you care and is a powerful “family thing to do” for those who find comfort in faith.
“I heard your son has cancer and that really, really sucks.”
Honesty and directness can be incredibly validating. MD emphasizes, “Thank you for being plain, simple and on point.” Sometimes, acknowledging the harsh reality directly, without sugarcoating, is the most supportive approach. Acknowledging the difficulty is a key “family thing to do” through verbal support.
“I don’t know what to say. I wish desperately that I could make this go away for you. Can I bring you a meal on an evening this week?”
Authenticity paired with actionable help is deeply appreciated. LS highlights that this phrase “is authentic and it gives a very specific action.” Offering concrete help, like a meal, moves beyond words and demonstrates practical support, a tangible “family thing to do” that eases their burden.
“Your son’s (or your) strength is inspiring.”
Acknowledging their resilience can be uplifting. LS shares, “I’m proud of this kid of mine; the kid I have a front row seat to watch him suffer with such grace. His strength inspires me, too.” MD adds, “I’m glad you’ve noticed because I am scared and this helps me gain the confidence to keep going.” Recognizing their strength is a positive “family thing to do” that provides encouragement.
Conversely, some common phrases, while often spoken with good intentions, can be unhelpful or even hurtful:
“What’s his prognosis?”
This question forces parents to confront the most devastating possibilities. LS explains, “I don’t want to think about my child dying. I want to focus on him living.” Unless you are immediate family or extremely close, prognosis is best researched independently. Avoiding intrusive questions about prognosis is a crucial “family thing to do” to protect their emotional space.
“How rare is this diagnosis?”
Focusing on rarity can exacerbate fear and isolation. MD states, “My son’s disease is very rare, we are terrified and we only want to focus on how to save our child. It doesn’t matter common, uncommon, good or bad it seems. Cancer has invaded our child’s body and it sucks.” The specifics of the diagnosis are secondary to the immediate crisis. Steering clear of questions about rarity is a considerate “family thing to do.”
“Seventy (or any other) percent chance of survival is pretty good.”
Minimizing the situation with statistics can be deeply insensitive. LS recounts, “I actually had someone say this to me. I felt like asking him how he would feel if someone knocked on his door and told him that his son had a thirty percent chance of being dead in five years. Anything other than one hundred percent is not ‘pretty good.’” Survival rates offer little comfort when it’s your child. Refraining from statistical comparisons is an empathetic “family thing to do.”
“Keep fighting!”
While meant to be encouraging, this phrase can feel dismissive of the complex reality. LS shares, “I hated it when people said this. It sounded too much like a lecture. It implies that we were thinking of giving up and no one just gives up. But there are times when we have to decide how to do the cancer thing. What we decided as a family might look different than someone else’s decision. But, we would never give up.” It can imply a lack of understanding of their ongoing struggle. Choosing more nuanced encouragement over simplistic commands is a thoughtful “family thing to do.”
“I know exactly what you are going through because my (insert distant relative here) had cancer.”
Comparing experiences can invalidate their unique pain. LS emphasizes, “No. You don’t. You have no idea what it’s like unless you have watched your son die from a vicious disease. I get trying to show empathy by drawing from personal experience, but it’s best not to imply a parallel experience unless you really do have one.” Unless you have had a truly comparable experience, avoid claiming to know exactly what they are going through. Acknowledging the uniqueness of their experience is a respectful “family thing to do.”
“I don’t know how you are handling this, you are so strong.”
While intended as a compliment, it can feel dismissive of their internal struggles. MD clarifies, “Nope, I’m not actually handling it at all. I’m numb and trying to keep going each day.” LS adds, “I’m not a hero for taking care of my child. You would do it too. This just made me feel awkward and I was never sure how to respond. Maybe say something like, “I admire your strength” instead. Then, all I have to say is, “Thank you.”” Recognize their strength, but avoid implying they are unaffected by the situation. Offering genuine admiration rather than broad statements of strength is a more sensitive “family thing to do.”
“What do you think caused it?”
This question can trigger guilt and a search for blame where none exists. MD explains, “It’s best not to go here. It leaves open the thought that I may have done something to cause my child’s cancer or that I could have prevented it. The cancer started growing when he was in my womb, where he was supposed to be safe, and that’s a haunting thought.” Childhood cancer is rarely, if ever, attributable to parental actions. Avoiding questions of causation is a compassionate “family thing to do.”
“Have you tried….cannabis oil, baking soda & maple syrup, taking him to a chiropractor in California…?”
Unsolicited and often unfounded medical advice can be frustrating and insulting. LS shares, “I probably have not tried those things because my countless hours of research turned up nothing to support it. I actually had a man come to my door just days before Zach died with this kind of question. Did he really think I hadn’t checked into those kinds of treatments years ago?” Trust that the family is working with medical professionals and researching appropriate treatments. Refraining from offering unrequested medical advice is a supportive “family thing to do.”
In conclusion, supporting a family facing childhood cancer is about empathy, respect, and offering genuine help. Choosing your words carefully and focusing on actions that provide tangible support are the most meaningful “family things to do” during such a difficult journey. Sometimes, the most helpful approach is simply acknowledging their pain, offering your presence, and letting them know you care, without trying to fix, explain, or minimize their experience.
