I found this on a grief support group.  The person who posted it said she didn’t remember who the author was or where it came from.

Although it was written by a woman who lost her husband, almost everything in here can related to the loss of anyone we love.

Please Understand

Please understand that my world had 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 husband, wife, parent, child, relative, friend] to me. It’s not going to bring him back – I know this but it’s more of a comfort to cry than to pretend that he never existed. I need to talk about him and I’m sorry if I repeat myself. My brain doesn’t process things quite the way it used to. Don’t be afraid to mention his name. YOU can’t make me cry. The tears are 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 normal 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 more. 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. Realize there are nights when my mind races and memories haunt me so that I cannot sleep. Eventually, I will be able to eat more than a few mouthfuls of food and I will be able to sleep for more than short periods 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 after [my loved one’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 his death, but also the person I was when I was with him, the life we shared, the plans we had for our future, the places we will never go together, and the hopes and dreams that will never come true. His smile. his laughter. his kiss and his touch…my whole world has crumbled and I will never be the same. We built a life together and I loved our life. [My loved one] chose me to share his life with him and to be his wife. He didn’t choose to die.

I will not always be grieving as deeply as I am right now, but I will never forget [my loved one], the absolute love of my life. I want to incorporate his life and the gift of love we shared with one another into the rest of my life. He is a part of me and always will be, and sometimes I will remember him with laughter and other times with tears. Both are okay.

When you tell me what I should be doing, I feel even more lost and alone. I feel badly enough that [my loved one] is no longer here, 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’, or ‘You’re young, you’ll bounce back quickly’. 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.

Please do not tell me you understand how I feel. You don’t.  Even if you have also lost a husband, you may partially understand, but as you didn’t lose MY husband, so you cannot possibly know exactly how I feel.

I need to know that you care about me. I need your hugs. I need you just to be with me. 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. 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. 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.