Some thoughts on bereavement.

barry robinson
Read or Die!
Published in
2 min readJun 16, 2023
lady in mourning looking thoughtful Photo by The Good Funeral Guide on Unsplash

This article has been inspired by Autistic Widower ("AJ")who has spoken movingly about the death of his wife some years ago. There have been other writers here who have also written about bereavement. These articles got me thinking of the journey I once made through those dark days.

My memories of that time are of two stages.

The first one was dealing with and living with my wife's diagnosis. The second stage was readjusting to life after her death.

In the first stage, it was how people reacted to me that sticks in my mind. Some people were supportive and helpful. Others, some of them close friends, avoided me. They just did not know what they were supposed to say.

Although their silence was preferable to having to being told by someone, they knew what I was going through as they went through the same thing it when their aunt died. I really wanted to grab him (It was a man) by the throat and explain that losing an aunt, however lovely she was, was not the same as losing your wife and the mother of your children.

The second stage was easier. Most people seemed to know what to say without embarrassment. However, I felt slightly uncomfortable when people who had also lost partners told me they knew exactly how I felt. I always thought they did not know exactly how I felt.

I found an answer to this some weeks after my wife’s death.

I was at a large business gathering and was introduced to a lady who had been widowed some years previously. She expressed sympathy for me and asked how I was coping. I explained how I just went back to work and thought maybe I should have been grieving more openly.

Her reply was a simple one.

“You must do what you feel is right for you, you must do what you feel comfortable with”, she then went on to say, “There is no script for what you are going through, it is unique to you.”

I feel ashamed to admit that I do not remember that lady’s name, or even what she looked like, as I never saw her again. But her words have stayed with me down the years.

This is why I never say “I know exactly how you feel” to anyone who has lost their partner. Because I don’t.

I would also like to thank Rachel A Fefer and Trisha Faye whose writing helped me put this article together.

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