I ALSO have strong memories that make me tear up with joy when I think of the times when someone unexpectedly said or did something – the “right” thing – that filled my heart.

1) I had to call USAA to cancel our car insurance with them, because I was switching to AAA for ease. Lynn was in charge of our car insurances, and her father was a veteran, so she always used USAA. I switched because it was easier (they are just down the street), I had to put the insurance in just my name, and I was not sure if I qualified (USAA is for veterans and their families). I already did not want to call and go through the “yes we are legally a couple, but now she’s dead, and I already don’t want to make a phone call that is another confirmed fact that she is dead, blah blah blah.” The person I spoke with was sooo nice. He offered condolences in a non-hurried way. Then he reimbursed me for the overlap in insurance coverage (because of COURSE I did not cancel for months after I obtained new insurance – too mentally and emotionally fatigued). THEN he said, of course you are eligible for USAA, call us anytime you need help with anything. SOO NICE! It turned a difficult and slightly traumatizing phone call into one where I felt so seen, understood, and supported.

2) After I tried to work after Lynn passed, my supervisor suggested I just take a medical leave until after Lynn’s Celebration of Life a month later. That was the first unexpected super nice gesture. When I was scheduled to go back to work, I needed a medical note saying I was ok to return. I emailed my assigned Primary Care Physician, whom I had not met yet, and explained the situation. I asked if he could write me a letter clearing me to go to work, and what I needed to do for him to write the letter. I thought maybe I needed to make an appointment, see him, etc. He wrote back and offered sincere condolences, and asked me about my past month. I was honest and told him how I had been, how I was feeling, etc. He wrote me a letter so I could go back to work, and I think we also made an appointment – at my convenience – to see him. When I did, he was very supportive and said the right things. No judgment and gently offered resources that could help if I were interested at some point in the future.

3) It was hard to go to the Farmer’s Market after Lynn passed, as it was one of our favorite Saturday morning activities. But, I needed a can of coffee and that’s where i went to buy coffee from my favorite local coffee roasters. I bought my can and got my free coffee, and totally started crying. They were so sweet, and I choked out why I was crying. SO, they gave me the coffee for free, offered condolences, that whole familiar scene. I went to their physical location to thank them AND to pay for the can. But, I started crying again and they AGAIN gave me a free can! Sheesh! Lol, but it was a gesture of their caring of their customers, and a recognition of when someone is going thru a hard time. A “small” gesture goes a VERRRY long way and truly and tremoedously help a grieving heart.

4) This memory is fuzzy, but I think I had posted about it on FaceBook when it happened (cannot find the post though). I had gone to our local bank to do something with our accounts (close hers? consolidate our joint and my individual? Who knows…). And I am obviously upset, and the bank teller was so patient and gentle, and again made a difficult and I – don’t – want – to -do – this task so much easier and less painful.

I definitely have TONS of stories and memories of the relatively small gestures that people did – strangers and loved ones alike, that really touched my heart, and greatly helped the healing process. Friends who dropped everything and drove me somewhere when I felt like I could not drive. Friends who would text and say, I left some food on your porch. (They knew I would not have wanted a knock on the door to answer.) An acquaintance emailed and in her email said, “I’m so sorry about Lynn’s passing. You must miss her so much.” That phrase, “You must miss her so much,” remains one of the sweetest and much needed responses I received during that time. So simple, but I felt so acknowledged and it easily aligned with how I felt. The MANY times I asked my neighbors to feed my dogs because I forgot and was at work already. Asking my neighbor frequently to check if I turned off the stove because, just “widow fog.”

I am immensely and eternally grateful for these beautiful glimmers of hope during such a devastating time.