People Don't Know How to Handle Grief.

Let me rephrase that. People don't know how to handle OTHER people's grief. They're scared of it. They skirt around it, they avoid it, sometimes even belittle it. This is one thing I've observed through this whole experience. It's interesting to see the similarities and the differences in how people respond to your grief…and I'd be lying if I didn't say that I haven't gotten frustrated over some of these responses. I can hear my husband now saying, "They're just trying to help," and I know this, but it's still hard.

One of the most common reactions is how people quickly try to relate to you. You can see their brain working to figure out some similarity between what you might be feeling to something they have previously felt. This is usually followed up with, "When my so and so died…" Don't get me wrong, I have done this too, but why? Why is that the automatic response? Trying to put my feelings in a uniform box called "grief" cheapens what I'm experiencing now. Grief is so personal and so unique to each person that we shouldn't just put all grievers in one category.

I don't mean for this to be a critique on my family and friends as they are walking this journey with me. Honestly. I just beg to ask the question, how can we help our grieving brothers and sisters better? I think the best example I can provide comes from my husband. We've only been married six months and he is walking with me during the most intense time in my life…and he didn't get a manual. Yikes! One time he told me that he could read me better than I thought he could and all those times he was grabbing my hand, and I thought he was just oblivious, living in marital bliss, he knew I was crying inside. He said that that was his way to let me know that he knew, and to remind me I'm not alone. Snap! Talk about tears. At the time I didn't even know that that was what I needed. Because here I am now, trying to figure out what life is like without her and all the while life is still moving. The world didn't stop on September 24, even though it did for me. I'm so thankful for that gentle reminder when I'm trying to fake that inside I'm not falling apart, that I have people in my corner squeezing my hand, saying, "I know."

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