Awhile back, pretty early on in my loss, I remember some person responding to my utter turmoil, deep grief, and endless sobbing fits, with this gem: “Well, life goes on!” In that moment, I can recall feeling and thinking several things. 

A: Fuck you. 

B: Yeah, no shit. Tell me something I dont already know, you condescending ass. 

C: How DARE life just “go on?”, when my husband isnt here? How dare it? And how CAN it? How am I supposed to go on? And why hasn’t the world stopped on it’s axis after his death? How am I ever going to keep up? I don’t feel like it. I don’t want to. I wont.

D: And, oh yeah … Fuck you. 

Now, today, 6 years into this madness, I still feel like that was a shitty and cavalier thing to say to someone whose life and world and universe was just dessimated in the blink of an eye, but Im starting to see that maybe they didnt mean it in the way it was received. Maybe they meant that one day, way far away in the future, my life would actually be a bigger part of the fraction, than my grief. Maybe they meant that one day, I will actually LIVE instead of just exist. And yes, they were right, and that day has now come, where the pain is no longer 24/7, and where joyous life has grown in places where I didnt know there were any seeds. So much so, that last week, I forgot to write my blog in here (so sorry!), because I was on a trip to NYC seeing old friends and enjoying city life and everything else. And writing in here just completely slipped my mind. (Again – so sorry!) So, it’s really sometimes a GOOD thing, when life gets in the way of writing about pain. Because it means you are awake, and living your life, and that new joy is possible. 

I say all of this, to say two things:

1: If you cant yet imagine a day where joy and life could possibly be a bigger part of your fraction, than pain, that is okay. But know that it’s absolutely possible, and just because you cant yet see it or feel it, doesnt mean it isn’t there. It is, and you will meet up with it when you are ready for it. 

2: If you are not widowed, and you should run into a widowed person, who has just lost their person, their world, and life as they knew it – maybe DON’T say to them in a cavalier and careless voice while shrugging your shoulders: “Well, life goes on.” 

It’s really kind of an asshole thing to say.

And you very well might get punched in the eyeball. 

Thank you.