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"I know just how you feel!" How terrible is that phrase?

Yes, my father died on my twenty-second birthday. Yes, I have lost two children (infants who were both born with congenital defects).

"Time heals all things". No. No. No!

Is it really forty-one years since Robbie died at three and a half weeks? I can still see the dimple in his chin but I do not even have a photo of him!

"It will get better." Perhaps it will become somewhat less painful.

It has been thirty-six years since Carrie Jane died at the age of six and a half months. It has never stopped hurting!

"This too shall pass." I don't think so!

I think a lot about my Dad and how many things I have done and places I have seen that he had not when he died from cancer at age 55.

My grandparents, my mother, aunts, cousins and some friends have died. I was divorced and remarried. My second husband died after eighteen years of marriage.

So, when you have your loss, here I am. I might tell you that I had suffered a loss but not many details. You have your own loss, your own circumstances, and your own pain.

I remember how people helped me. I try to forget those who did not.

"Punishment from God", was the worst phrase I ever heard when I was grieving and I heard it twice (when the babies died). God does not punish us! A solid belief in life after death which has grown stronger over time helps me deal with death.

Now that you have lost your husband, here I am. I recall the really good things people did for me and with me. Some came and some stayed away.

People say stupid things. That's because they don't know what to say. Other people stay away because they don't know what to say.

Eventually you will forgive those people. Right now, don't worry about them. Don't even think about them. If you do think about them, feel sorry for them.

Here I am. I have belonged to this club. It is not a very exclusive club.

I am so sorry. Here I am. Let me sit down beside you. It hurts you. I'll try not to say too much, but here I am.

So, each time I reach out to a broken heart of one who is grieving, my own heart is a little bit lighter.

The cold, hard fact is that life does go on after we have lost a loved one. The streets are still full of cars and the mall is full of shoppers. The supermarket is busy. The world does not stop because a loved one has died.

I can truly feel the pain, the emptiness of my friends who have recently been widowed. I try to just be available for them. I let them know about church events, scrapbooking crops, and concerts. Some day they will come.

Remembering how bad it was for me, (my anger and my pain) helps me to try to stay off in the background yet let that person know that I am available.

When the day comes that she feels a little more human, a little more like trying to live, I am there for her. I try to be quiet (in my excitement) that this person is going to keep on living.

When she tells me she is going on a trip, moving or whatever decisions she has made, I approve. She is again making decisions and trying to get on with her life although her pain is still very much there.

Every time I reach out to another who is grieving, my heart heals a little more. Healing and forgetting are not the same things. I never forget all those I have lost.

Now I can watch others reaching out to others and getting on with a life. A new car? A new hairdo? A new dress for a daughter's wedding? Lost some weight? Now, they will be able to reach out to others. They will never forget, but they will go on living! And so will I!

Learn more about this author, Martha Sutton.
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