Those Who Stay
A message for our grieving friends
Most people cannot accompany us as far into grief as we hoped they would.
Not because they don't care.
But because they have limits.
Some people are frightened of grief.
Some don't know what to say.
Some convince themselves you're strong enough not to need them.
Some become entangled in other loyalties or narratives.
And some simply drift away.
None of that means you are unworthy of their support.
It means people are often far less brave and far less emotionally capable than we hope.
Widowhood changes your perspective in ways that are hard to explain to someone who hasn't lived it.
You begin to understand that grief is not a moment, a funeral, or a year. It is carrying love and loss together for the rest of your life.
I have relationships with people who greet me and ask,
"How are you?"
"How is the case going?"
And I answer honestly, with appreciation at the normality of the question.
I'm okay.
I'm busy.
I'm stressed.
I'm worried.
I'm trying to prepare.
Because what happened to Barry is not a separate chapter of my life that I can close when it makes someone else uncomfortable.
It is woven into every single day.
His death is not simply something that happened to us.
The investigation is not simply something we endure.
They are part of our history, part of our present, and part of who we are now.
We still laugh.
We still make plans.
We still have hopes for the future.
But grief walks beside us in all of those things.
Not always loudly.
Not always painfully.
But always faithfully.
And slowly, painfully, you learn that the people who remain are not always the people you expected.
But those who stay, who sit beside you without trying to fix you, become priceless.
If people fall away, do not let their leaving diminish your worth. It is simply a reminder that grief changes every relationship it touches.
And whilst many cannot walk beside us for the whole journey, we continue anyway.
Because love does not end.
And neither do we.
All we need are those who are not afraid to put on their shoes and walk with us.
They do not need answers.
They do not need to fill the silences.
They do not need to attempt to fix us.
They just need to walk with us.
Thinking of all who are grieving.
- Shelley Martin