I think that most people don't know what to say but feel like they should say something. I think it's just human nature. I don't take offense to what anyone says. Some people don't say anything at all. They seem to be more comfortable not acknowledging my or my kids' loss. And that is ok too. .

My situation is a little different than some in this group because I am raising three kids. A lot of the people I interact with at work or school or soccer or baseball or the 100 other events my kids somehow become involved in seem relieved when I start a conversation. It's as if they've been waiting for almost a year to see if I could still speak. So now I always try to start a conversation with everyone about anything. Then they don't shut up. Haaaa!!!! Seriously though, I think most people are trying to say or do the right thing. If what someone says seems off the wall to me I don't take it personally. I know that they are just uncomfortable talking to me or uncomfortable thinking about my loss.

I think back a few years ago to a woman in the company I work for that lost her daughter after a long illness. I didn't know the woman enough to speak to her. But occasionally I would pass her in the hall or ride the elevator with her. And all I remember thinking is, my god how is this woman even standing or functioning? And I understand now. And I wish I had just said "hey, I'm really sorry for your loss." But I didn't because I didn't want to upset her. I didn't want to assume it was ok to talk about what must be an incredibly personal thing to her. And I think this is how most people feel.

I have been on both sides of this. I actually believed in my own dumb way that I was giving comfort by saying things that now having them said to me I realize were so very wrong.

My husband went through several heart issues and recovered. He had chemotherapy and radiation for lymphoma and lived to tell about it. He had diabetes and controlled it well. Yet, after winning these battles neither he or I saw him as healthy. He exercised, ate healthy and was my rock.

When he died 10 weeks after the diagnosis of lung cancer, I was amazed at how many people thought he suffered too long. He didnt suffer! He survived and won and lived a full life in spite of the circumstances. I was appalled at their words.

I sometimes find people's comments hard to swallow. I know that it is hard for people to "know what to say", but perhaps some should just nod and keep their mouths shut. My husband was healthy and happy... and he died suddenly doing something we had been doing together for YEARS. One thing went wrong and he was gone.
I actually had one woman tell me that I should consider it "A BLESSING IN DISGUISE". I have never in my life felt the need to be violent... until that moment. Luckily she saw the look on my face and heard the first couple of words out of my mouth and she had the common sense to leave quickly.

Oh, like all of you, I've seen and heard others say and do some really stupid things.
A friend was widowed very young when she and her husband were in a car crash; he was killed instantly, she hospitalized for months for recovery. Once recovered, she went shopping for a new car, and with the insurance, bought a model he always wanted, as a way to honour him. Another "friend" quipped, to her, "gee, it must be nice to have money!" ???
When we lost our infant son, a woman said to me..."I understand how you feel. I had to put my dog down last week..." ???
Two days after my heart surgery last year, a "friend" contacted me to chat via Facebook - to ask about my surgery? To see how I was recovering? No... To bitch and moan about her love life.
A month ago I was with two mothers from my sons cadet squad, who were bitching and moaning about their husbands and how they were being treated...now these are good men, I know them both. I quipped "I'll trade positions with you," in an attempt to get them to see how their comments were hurting me and their marriages...one snapped back, "sure, anytime!" Really? You'd rather be widowed?
Yes, ignorance abounds...
Once upon a time we had etiquette guides and lessons - maybe we need to push for schools to incorporate this in the curriculum.

Every human being, at some point in their life will experience loss. And yet we know nothing about how to cope with loss nor how to comfort someone who is going through a loss. Here is what we should say to anyone who is trying to be helpful..."I need you to have a listening heart, and just hear me". Every one of those comments which have been described above, only serve to shut us down. We quit talking about our pain, we quit asking for company because what is coming at us is not helpful and sends us the message that what we are feeling isn't valid. All of this just prolongs our pain. I'm so sorry your friend was insensitive to your needs and your right, doubly so because she had suffered through that separation. ((((hugs))))

I was in my twenties, in the hospital and had just lost a baby. I was devastated. A friend was in my room along with the surgeon. My visitor looked at me and said, "well, I guess it could have been worse!" My doctor looked at her and said, "yes, it could have been YOU!"

My visitor quickly left. I kissed my doctor.

All we need in life is a quick rhetorical comment for the morons in life and a brilliant surgeon, with a quick mind.

Roz

It's true that we do not learn what to do, how to think, when a death happens. When my wife died in the hospice ward of the hospital, I sat and cried. After a while a nurse came to check on me. I turned to her and asked, "What happens now?" because I had no idea what happens next, how to get from the hospital to the funeral. She kindly told me, "There are procedures in place. Your funeral director will contact us to pick up the body." That was a little relief for me, because I then understood "the next steps."

In some ways, yes, life is "easier"now that I am not spending all that time taking care of her at home, and sitting with her in the hospital. I was fortunate to be working for my client remotely last year, which meant I was home with her between hospitals, and I could work from the hospital too on my computer (when I could concentrate). I would gladly trade my freedom in to get her back.

I think the worst period was after the doctors told me and our daughter there was no hope for recovery, the best they could do was make her comfortable and transfer her from ICU to a private room to give her dignity and peace. Still, I hoped and prayed for a miracle, but I knew there was little chance. The day she died, I looked at her, she was still conscious but unable to move or talk, connected to the respirator, and I wondered how much longer she would suffer, if maybe I was somehow prolonging her suffering. She shook her head like she was saying "No, no" but I wasn't sure what it meant, if she was saying she was sorry, or if she was saying she was ready to go, enough. I sensed that something had changed, and that night she died.

Before my wife became seriously ill, I had taken care of my mom for over 2 years, picking her up from dialysis 3x a week, running errands, making sure she ate. I transitioned as she went into assisted living to being my wife's caregiver. So the past few years, I have been someone's caregiver.

I saw a new primary care physician today, because I changed insurance recently. I explained to him that I hadn't had a physical for maybe 3 years, because I was caring for my family members. I think I picked a good doctor because he said he understood, and when I said, "Now I can take care of myself," he agreed. And I was stunned when he asked me if I would consider seeing a therapist - he said, "You know, medicine doesn't doesn't treat everything; your health needs be well in your mind and soul too."

People in my neighborhood, my neighbors and others still ask me when they see me, "How are you doing?" That's an open-ended question, I always say I'm doing OK - and thankfully they do not follow up with a stupid comment. Maybe a little hug, or just a smile.

I went to a concert on Monday night, a free show by Tedeschi Trucks Band in Central Park, with a new friend I met at a professional networking meetup, and we soon discovered we share love for music. I sort of unloaded on him about my grief when we met, but he didn't seem to mind, and I thanked him afterwards. There is something about him that makes me feel OK, he's a little older than me, about my wife's age, and wise and kind. He specializes in Estate Planning for a life insurance company, so he knows a lot about end-of-life decisions. I asked him to keep a look out for a good show to go to together and so he invited me - I didn't really know about the band before, but when I checked them out I was excited. It was a beautiful show, a better anti-depressant than any pill. Afterwards he asked me if the show helped my spirit, and I said, "Yes."