Understand...

First, I have to admit that I stole this from someone else. The author is unknown. It was something that they modified from something another person put onto FaceBook. But it says such great things that most Widows and Widowers think inside and very few verbalize. I to repost it (and modify slightly for my situation).

Understand that my world has fallen apart. My world, my life, is no longer secure. Don't run from my tears. I cannot control them. I'm not made of stone. Grief comes at me in waves and when it hits, it hits hard. I never know when a wave is coming and I just have to ride it out until the waters calm. You don't need to say anything. You can't make it better no matter how much you might want to. Please talk about my wife. It's not going to bring her back. I know this but it's more of a comfort to cry than to pretend that she never existed. I need to talk about her and I'm sorry if I repeat myself. My brain doesn't process things quite the way they used to. Don't be afraid to mention her name. You can't make me cry. The tears are already here and I will love you for allowing me to shed them when I need to. Just don't abandon me. Please don't act like I have some contagious disease. Don't be afraid that you're going to upset me. Grief isn't catching. 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. Only ask me how I'm doing if you really want to know. Please stop telling me, “You're so strong”. I am not strong. I alternate between numbness and overwhelming moments of grief. When you tell me how strong I am I feel like you don't see me at all. Please don't tell me what I “have” to do. I know I need to eat better, healthier. I know I need to sleep. I'm grieving, not stupid. Understand that there are times when I cannot physically force myself to eat because food tastes like cardboard and if I'm able to swallow it, it just sits like a lump in my stomach. Or I eat whatever is available, which is not always the best choice. Realize that there are nights when my mind races and memories haunt me so that I cannot sleep. Eventually, I will be able to eat better and I will be able to sleep for more than minutes at a time. This is not something that I will heal from. This is not a cold or the flu. I'm not sick. I'm not depressed. A pill can't fix this. I'm grieving and that's different. The worst of my grieving may only begin months or years after my wife's death. Don't set time limits on my grief. It may take six months or six years for me to function properly again. I am not only grieving her death, but also the person I was when I was with her, the life that we shared, the plans we had for our future. The places we will never get to go together, and the hopes and dreams that will never come true. Her smile. Her jokes and laughter. Her kiss and her touch. My whole world has crumbled and I will never be the same. Together we built a life together and I loved our life. She chose me, to share her life with me and for me to be her hsuband. She didn't choose to die. I will not always be grieving as deeply as I am right now, but I will never forget my wife. And rather than heal, I want to incorporate her life and the gift of love we shared with one another into the rest of my life. She is a part of me and always will be, and sometimes I will remember her with laughter and other times with tears. Both are okay. I don't have to accept her 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. To me, the loss of my wife, the love of my life, isn't acceptable. 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. 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 more than it feels I can bear some days. It may not look the way you think it should. My new life that I never wanted will take time for me to adjust to 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, joy will slowly return to my life. But I will never forget and there will always be times that I cry. So... I need to know that you care about me. I need to feel your touch, your hugs. I need you just to be with me, and I need to be with you. I need to know you believe in me and in my ability 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 because I have no idea what I need. Trying to figure out what you could do for me takes more energy than I have. If you think of something...just do it. If you want to call me then just call...don't think that you are bothering me. If you are, I just won't answer. Ask me more than once to join you at a movie or lunch or dinner. I may say no at first or even for a while but please don't give up on me. Right now there are some days when it is all I can do to get out of bed in the morning. Some days even showering seems too big a chore. But don't give up on me. Somewhere, in time, I may be ready and if you've given up on me then I really will be alone.