I suppose since the year of no spending is on hold, this blog will now evolve into an outlet for my grief as I grieve for the loss of my husband and the beautiful future that we had planned together. There are several websites that have been helpful for me as I begin to deal with my feelings and one of them has been Merry Widow. There is a forum, where widows can post and discuss their grief and their words have given me comfort on days when I have needed it. On their forums, I found the following letter:
HOW YOU CAN HELP ME
Please talk about my loved one, even though he is gone. It is more
comforting to cry than to pretend that he never existed. I need to talk
about him, and I need to do it over and over.
Be patient with my agitation. Nothing feels secure in my world. Get
comfortable with my crying. Sadness hits me in waves, and I never know
when my tears may flow. Just sit with me in silence and hold my hand.
Don’t abandon me with the excuse that you don’t want to upset me. You
can’t catch my grief. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid
to call me or visit or say anything, you isolate me at a time when I
most need to be cared about. If you don’t know what to say, just come
over, give me a hug or touch my arm, and gently say, “I’m sorry.” You
can even say, “I just don’t know what to say, but I care, and want you
to know that.”
Just because I look good does not mean that I feel good. Ask me how I
feel only if you really have time to find out.
I am not strong. I’m just numb. When you tell me I am strong, I feel
that you don’t see me.
I will not recover. This is not a cold or the flu. I’m not sick. I’m
grieving and that’s different. My grieving may only begin 6 months after
my loved one’s death. Don’t think that I will be over it in a year. For
I am not only grieving his death, but also the person I was when I was
with him, the life that we shared, the plans we had for watching our
children and grandchildren grow, the places we will never get to go together, and the
hopes and dreams that will never come true. My whole world has crumbled
and I will never be the same.
I will not always be grieving as intensely, but I will never forget my
loved one and rather than recover, I want to incorporate his life and
love into the rest of my life. He is a part of me and always will be,
and sometimes I will remember him with joy and other times with a tear.
Both are okay.
I don’t have to accept the death. Yes, I have to understand that it has
happened and it is real, but there are some things in life that are just
When you tell me what I should be doing, then I feel even more lost and
alone. I feel badly enough that my loved one is dead, so please don’t
make it worse by telling me I’m not doing this right.
Please don’t tell me I can find someone else or that I need to start
dating again. I’m not ready. And maybe I don’t want to. And besides,
what makes you think people are replaceable? They aren’t. Whoever comes
after will always be someone different.
I don’t even understand what you mean when you say, “You’ve got to get
on with your life.” My life is going on, I’ve been forced to take on
many new responsibilities and roles. It may not look the way you think
it should. This will take time and I will never be my old self again. So
please, just love me as I am today, and know that with your love and
support, the joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget
and there will always be times that I cry.
Please don’t say, “Call me if you need anything.” I’ll never call you
because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could
do for me takes more energy than I have. So, in advance, let me give you
Send me a card on special holidays, his birthday, and the
anniversary of his death, and be sure to mention his name. You can’t
make me cry. The tears are here and I will love you for giving me the
opportunity to shed them because someone cared enough about me to reach
out on this difficult day.
Ask me more than once to join you at a movie or lunch or dinner. I
may so no at first or even for a while, but please don’t give up on me
because somewhere down the line, I may be ready, and if you’ve given up
then I really will be alone.
Understand how difficult it is for me to be surrounded by couples,
to walk into events alone, to go home alone, to feel out of place in the same situations
where I used to feel so comfortable.
Please don’t judge me now – or think that I’m behaving strangely.
Remember I’m grieving. I may even be in shock. I am afraid. I may feel
deep rage. I may even feel guilty. But above all, I hurt. I’m
experiencing a pain unlike any I’ve ever felt before and one that can’t
be imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.
Don’t worry if you think I’m getting better and then suddenly I seem to
slip backward. Grief makes me behave this way at times. And please don’t
tell me you know how I feel, or that it’s time for me to get on with my
life. What I need now is time to grieve.
Most of all thank you for being my friend. Thank you for your patience.
Thank you for caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank
you for praying for me.
And remember in the days or years ahead, after your loss – when you need
me as I have needed you – I will understand. And then I will come and be with you.
While I have not yet experienced all of the emotions in this letter, it sums up so accurately what I am beginning to go through in words that I could never have found to express myself. I do feel very loved and grateful for the cards and responses and support and prayers, but at the same time I feel so very alone. I received an invitation to the cinema last weekend and although I couldn’t accept it due to other commitments, it meant a lot to me. I received a care package in the mail that filled my home and my heart with love. The cards displayed in my home are a great visual reminder of the love that is being sent my way. As I don’t know what I need, I thought I would post this poem so that that author – although I do not know who that is – could express to you all the feelings that I am just beginning to deal with.