I was afraid Tom’s friends wouldn’t be friends with me anymore. Or without Tom to filter me (I can be abrasive, I think) and be the buffer, would his friends even LIKE me? They only knew me because of Tom. Would they still want to know me WITHOUT Tom? Would I just be a terrible reminder of someone they lost? Would they think I could replace Tom and then realize I’m not like him at all and then be disappointed? I needed their friendship. I need their memories. I need to hear their stories. My kids need all of that too. I need them. Do they need me, or even want me?
The answer mostly is yes. Thank God. Some I’ve become closer to and even said to them right after:
“I want to stay connected to you, you are so important to me. I’m just afraid the more you know me and the more time we spend together, you might find you don’t actually like me.”
That was hard to say, and it’s even hard to write now. The self doubt someone feels during grief is tremendous. I was afraid to lose them like I lost Tom, and I was waiting for them to think, “You’re actually a lot of work. Let’s phase this friendship out. You’ll stay on our Christmas card list, though.”
But, honestly, think about it. How many of your spouse’s friends could you stay friends with? And then think about how many of your friends’ spouses you’d stay friends with.
Thank God he has such great friends. They have called and checked in. They have written lovely letters. They’ve met me out for coffee, lunch and dinner. They’ve helped me do the worst things I’ve ever had to do in my life like write the obituary, carry boxes and boxes of his personal items out his office, and do mountains of legal paperwork that comes along with death. They’ve given good sturdy hugs when I need it, eye contact in a crowd when I was doubting myself, stood beside me so I wouldn’t feel alone, and other subtle things that make me feel like I have his team with me. Which is second to having him with me, I guess.
I’m grateful for his friends.
And I think they’re grateful for me too.
