How you can help...

Please talk about my loved one, even though he is gone. It is more comforting to cry that to pretend that he never existed. I need to know that he is remembered. 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 or cause my grief. Don't say you don't want to phone in case it's a bad time. If I really don't want to, I won't answer the phone. My world is painful, and when you are too afraid to call me or visit or say anything, it isolates me at a time when I most need to be cared about. Don't assume that someone else is looking after me - chances are that they are not. If you don't know what to say, just give me a hug or say "I'm sorry." You can even say, " I just don't know what to say, but I care and I 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 have the time to, and really want to, find out. I am not strong, I'm just numb. When you tell me how strong I am it it feels as though you just don't see me. If I look like I'm doing well, you aren't looking closely enough. Every day my life is filled with doubts and questions. Did I do everything right? Is it what he wanted? Did I miss something? Did he know how much he meant to me. Did I say everything I needed to, and everything he needed to hear? What on earth was he thinking of in those final days? Why couldn't I save him? I can't share these concerns with you because they are questions that no one will ever be able to answer. And if you try to, anything you say will seem insensitive and trite. I will come to my own conclusions eventually, but until then, this is what I live with 24 hours a day.

I will not recover, this is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick, or depressed. I'm grieving and that's different. My grief may only fully begin 6 months after my loved ones death. So don't think I will be over it in a year, or ever. For I am not only grieving the loss of my loved one, but also the person I was when we were together, the life we shared, the plans we had, the places we will never get to go together, the grandchildren he will never meet 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 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 not acceptable. Please don't project your expectations onto me with your questions. "Did you have a good time" or "Did you enjoy yourself" are not good questions. They have only two options - yes or no. And I feel as though you expect me to say yes. And let's face it, that's what you want to hear. It's a much easier answer for you than "no. I spent the entire time trying not to cry and wondering if I will ever feel a moment of happiness again." If you really want to know, try an open question. "How did it go?" or "How was it?". And when I answer, don't say that I shouldn't feel that way. 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 making me feel that I'm not doing this right.

I don't understand when you say "you've got to get on with your life". My life is going on, I've been forced into a new role in life and 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 may very slowly start to return to my life. The pain will never leave, it will just become easier to live with. But I will never forget, and there will always be times that I cry.

Please don't suggest that I will find someone else. I may never be ready. And maybe I don't want to. And besides, what makes people think our loved ones are replaceable? They aren't.

I need to know that you care about me. I need to feel your touch, your hugs - even though I will probably cry. So please don't feel uncomfortable if I do. I am broken and you cannot fix me. I need you to just be with me, and I need to be with you. I need to know that you believe in me and trust me to get through my grief in my own way, and in my own time. Please don't say, "Call me if you need anything." I'll never call you, not because I don't want to, but because I have no idea what I need. And trying to figure out what you could do for me takes more energy than I have.

Please don't judge me now, especially if I am behaving strangely. Remember I am grieving. I may still be in shock. I am afraid. I feel guilty. I may feel deep rage. But above all, I hurt. I'm experiencing a pain unlike any I have ever felt before and one that cannot be imagined by anyone who has not walked in my shoes.

Don't be surprised if you think I'm getting better and then suddenly I seem to slip backward. Grief is like that at times. And please don't tell me you know how I feel or that it's time for me to move forward. What I need now is time to grieve. I may have many things to live for, but I can't feel any of them right now. The fact that I am trying to keep going is enough for me, please let it be enough for you too.

Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your caring. Thank you for helping, for understanding. Thank you for praying for me. Most of all, thank you for being my friend.

And remember, in the 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.