What I Want People to Know About My Grief

What may feel to you like a lot of time passed, feels like no time at all.

I’m not going through a “grief process” I’m living a life alternating tragedy.

If you want to do something for me, just do it. It will most likely make me feel loved and seen. It is better than asking me if you can do anything and doing nothing at all.

If you ask me how I am, please have the space and capacity to let me really tell you.

It doesn’t hurt me when you say Jason’s name, it hurts me if you avoid bringing him up at all.

People say they are sorry, and then they say nothing more. It just shows me how quickly the rest of the world moves on. I haven’t moved on. I don’t think I ever will.

If you say you’re going to, do.

Pretend support feels just as awful as no support.

You may think you’d grieve differently, but you never really know what you would actually do until you’re living it. Ways I’m grieving have surprised me.

I don’t want to be told, “at least you didn’t have kids” you have no idea how badly that hurts. In fact, anything that starts with “at least” is a non starter.

If I cancel, don’t reply, it’s not personal, it just means I don’t have the space for that right now.

I love when you bring up Jason into our conversation. It means the world to me.

If you’re willing to sit with me and listen, you’re offering me so much more than you realize.

I don’t need you to fix a problem, this isn’t fixable. You being here listening is enough.

Most of the time grief isn’t visible. How I seem likely isn’t how I feel. There are a lot of silent battles, ones I don’t talk about. A lot of quiet lonely nights. Hours of lying awake, my mind racing.

Grief is not just tears. It’s more complex than I ever could’ve imagined.

Grief is exhausting. My world has been shattered, I’m not the same person I was before Jason died.

I’d rather you say something than nothing.

I love that you love Jason. Hearing you tell me means the world to me. I might cry, but it’s a mix of happy and sad tears. Happy tears in that I’m so grateful others saw in him what I did and he touched your life too. Sad in that I miss him every single day.

If you read anything I write it means something to me. If you tell me you read it and what it meant to you, it means even more.

If you’re even reading this blog post, it means you care and you’ve given me the space to share my story and Jason’s. Thank you.