For months after my husband died the phone was unusually silent. Even the friend I had chatted with several times a week didn’t call. When I asked her if there was anything wrong she said, “Frankly, I’m afraid of your pain.”
I was angry at what I felt was abandonment, but I understood when a bereavement counselor explained that “someone’s death reminds people of their own mortality.”
Henry, a widower I interviewed, said bluntly, “We shouldn’t be bastards throwing our problems at friends or using them as therapists.” Wary of being seen as intrusive he always begins a call with, “Do you have time to chat?”
That’s sage advice but it assumes you have your old friends. Many of us find our social circle dwindling ,especially if it involves couples. The norm has been”two by two’ ever since Noah chose the pairs for his ark.” So often when we suggest an evening our friends dodge with, “Why don’t we have lunch instead?”. This may cover subterranean issues. As a candid widow told me, “Wives know that many men see widows as fair game.” She, herself, she added wryly, ” keep my necklines and my fantasies discreet.”
It’s easier for widowers,since a single man is usually welcome, whereas a single woman isn;’t .We may even encounter this when our spouse is still alive. I remember the time a ineighbor nvited Mel and me to a dinner party .I told her I would come but Mel was ona business trip.”That’s too bad,” she said.”Another time.”
Fortunately not everyone has that conventional view. I bless the memory of Dorothy, a married friend, who invited me for every occasion.. The first tinme she did I told her I didn’t think Icshould come.”Theylre alll couoles and I’m on;ly half of one now,”I said,.
“Arenn’;tyou a whole person?” she shot back.
,But it takes time to feel whole again. It’s a skilll we have to practice.
We also have to learn that accepting offers of helip is not a sign of sweakness. During the first months I refused cliché offers asuch as,”Is there anything I can do to help?” I’d just murmur “Nothing” or lie that I was doing “fine.” (Me Big Strong Woman).But I realized that most people want to help and that they feel better when theylre allowed to. So I began accepting routine offers, such as “Need anything at the supermarket?” But the most appreciated gift was the offer to take the children for the day, freeing me for the wonders of the Metropolitan Museum! Yes it was a gift gjven to me, but it was also a gift I gave myself by not letting pride get in the way
There’s an even more valuable gift that friends can guive– and that we, in tiurn, can give to them. It doesn’t cost any money or take much effort. It’s the willingness to listen – with empathy and jwithgout judgment. It isn’tnecessary to reply or to come up with answers (aret here anyy?) Just knowing that someone really hears s us is the greatest gift and the truest friendship.
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