Write it. Do it now. Don’t put it off, but even if you have put it off, go do it now. I promise that the widow still will be thrilled to know someone still cares. It doesn’t matter how far away from the death it is. It’s never too late.
This is insanely depressing. Surprisingly, some widows say it to new widows. You’d think they’d know better.
Most important thing to remember for everyone concerned: During the week or so around the death, every raw emotion is splayed out on the surface ready for everyone else to violate. Traps are freshly baited and waiting at every turn. It doesn't take much to turn a thoughtless comment into an inferno. It's what makes this so hard for all of us. So let's all take a breath and try to be kinder to one another, shall we? My Death Is Better Than Your Death is not a game any of us need to play.
I was 45 when John died. I didn’t think I belonged in the elderly category of widows, those over 75 say, who have lost their spouses. On the other hand, I wasn’t young anymore either. I feel pretty well seasoned, especially now. So in looking for support after John died, I had a little trouble figuring out where to go, what category I fit into. Also, we didn’t have children, which made things different. Most of the younger widows had children to raise, a whole kettle of fish I couldn’t even begin to understand. Now I’m in specialized sub-category: >Widowed …