When you go through grief, everyone says they are sorry. And they are. Their hearts break for you. They say other things too, all designed to show their love and compassion. They may not know it, but every time a friend reaches out it is like someone tossing you a life raft, a float to keep your head above water. There are hugs, calls, meals, flowers and so many ways they say "I care about you." It all helps.
Even though all of these touches meant the world to me, I kept each of them at arm's length. "What is wrong with me?", I sometimes thought. Why do I take just enough of their love to keep me sane instead of opening my arms and bringing them into my grief? They want to share my burden. Why don't I let them?" It is because "fresh grief", at least for me, is solitary .....and draining. There is no energy left to share with others. And, somehow it is the last intimate experience I will have with my husband. Yes, grief is intimate and it is almost sacred.
As days have progressed into months, it is now less stinging most of the time although it is still unreal. It is more my choice now where I let my thoughts go, more so than when I was swept up and into the grip of grief. It is now less raw and less intimate.
I came across this poem and I think it speaks the thoughts of my friends when they so wanted to help. I am so grateful for them and I need them.