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Your journey with me has ended. I pray you have a deeper understanding of grief - it is my sincere prayer that you never join me here. As Joann’s grandfather - Joseph Frank (changed from Franko at Ellis Island) always said to her, “Then life goes on…” She would always quote him to me - and now I am living it as we all do when death touches us in some way. Let your compassion and understanding for the grieving take on a new dimension. Never be afraid of reaching out to the grieving - anything you do will be the “right thing”. We need your love. We need your memories of those we lost. When you give us that…you give us everything! The last scripture I read to Joann in the hospital sums up our hope: 18 Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will reveal to us later. 19 For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day when God will reveal who his children really are. 20 Against its will, all creation was subjected to God’s curse. But with eager hope, 21 the creation looks forward to the day when it will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay. 22 For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23 And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children, including the new bodies he has promised us. 24 We were given this hope when we were saved. (If we already have something, we don’t need to hope for it. 25 But if we look forward to something we don’t yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently.) 26 And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words. 27 And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers in harmony with God’s own will. 28 And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. 29 For God knew his people in advance, and he chose them to become like his Son, so that his Son would be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters. 30 And having chosen them, he called them to come to him. And having called them, he gave them right standing with himself. And having given them right standing, he gave them his glory. Romans 8: 18-30 (NLT)

Written Thursday, September 12, 2019 / Day 31 / Morning Today is one month since I entered my new state of grief. As I have written previously, I had the inclination that our course was headed to this place - only I was ever so hopeful that where we ended up would not happen. But it did. So today, in this neutral place, in this place of tranquility - as I hear there sounds of the waves crashing in the background, I reflect on where I am, what I know (which right now is somewhat a nebulous reality) and what I have learned. Grief, as I understand it today, is a place I will always live in. It is not something I will ‘get over” or “move on” from. But have to live with. Emotions are an extension of grief. It seems I am in this place of conflict and when the conflict becomes to great for me - I break down with emotion. One of the many difficult things I am dealing with is that of being alone. After sharing so much for so long - not having that connection is disarming and exhausting. There is no longer a relationship - that is beyond difficult to accept. My marriage is over. That just sounds too abstract for me to even write. But the reality is that it is over. I love my wife so much. She is everything to me and will always be. Having done everything with her, the thought of doing anything that we did as a couple without her is just not thinkable. Being here, at the beach, in this neutral environment has been helpful in that regard. I am doing new things here so there is not that pressure to contend with - for now. I am in a total emotional vacuum. I have surface emotions with those I am around - but inside there is just no emotional energy, if you could call it that. I am empty yet powerful. Apathetic yet operational. Fragile yet impervious to harm (so it seems right now). There doesn’t seem to be anything that can upset me. I am living in the present more than I have ever conceived of before. The future is out there but I really don’t care about it right now. The past I try to minimize - but I’m not doing a very good job with that either. I am drawn to the weeks prior to the end. I keep telling myself to not allow any grief about what has happened since it has already happened. I am solid in the fact that we had prayed for God’s will and He gave us the answer. She was good with that - I believe she saw it coming but would never tell me of such things - but I am settled with what happened. Accepting it - this is another matter. I am academically ok with everything - but emotionally - not so much. Nor do I see anything I can do about it. I will be attending my first coping with grief through writing session on September 19th. This will be my first time out with others and a test on how I will operate in that environment. If I were home today, this would be a more sorrowful, emotional and remorseful day. Being removed from my regular environment is a blessing. So I will rejoice in that fact. I am thankful for so much - but the pain of the loss - it is there. And it will grab me at some point. And as I always do - I will get through it as I pray for God’s strength and direction as I struggle with this new reality.

Written Wednesday, September 11, 2019 / Day 30 / Evening As day 4 of the beach experience ends, I find myself in a totally neutral experience. To put it bluntly - nothing bothers me right now. Nothing. Nothing at all. I don’t even really have an opinion right now. I know where I stand on issues and that’s where I left them 30 days ago. As of now, I really don’t care. It is powerful in a way. I mean you can’t touch me. These past few days have been like I am a visitor in my own life. And being with my son and his extended family has been a real blessing. How could I have gotten away from my world and be able to be with familiar people in a new and restful environment? They are so kind to me. And there is no pressure what so ever which is liberating in it’s own way. I disappear into my wonderfully adequate room when I need to. Or when I can’t process what is going on at the moment. As powerful as the one aspect is - I also can’t rally the emotional energy to be conversational for long periods of time. The emotional power - if you could call it that - just isn’t there to be used. It’s not like I have it and am just not applying myself - there is nothing there to apply. So in the ebb and flow of the past few days, my life has been quite tranquil. Detached and neutral and tranquil. There have been moments when I think of how my wife would react to what I am doing, the places I am going to, etc. I know how she should look at things - many of them she would not choose to do given the choice. That is a lot of the reason we would not find this environment attractive to us as a couple. But to me, the new lone wolf, I don’t have to worry about offending her sensibilities. As much as two people grow together over the years and share a certain perspective between each other - I now am the sole arbiter. So while I reflect and ponder - it doesn’t deeply effect me since it’s sort of theoretical at this point. But then I just plain miss her. And that starts to rev up the grief. But since grief is not totally with me here - there seems to be a disconnect. A welcome separation. One I pray could last. We won’t know until I open that door on Saturday afternoon and see where I am emotionally. Before I left on the trip - I found an album. It had some pictures of my wife and I on one of our first holidays over 46 years ago. Of course they were as vivid to my mind as yesterday. And of course, they got me going. For some reason I wanted to take quick photos of them on my tablet. The crazy thought struck me - if something ever happened while I was away these would be lost. So I took the photos. And now they are with me at the beach. I am in a reminiscent mood at times here. Reliving the beginnings of our relationship. It is a strange mixture of joy and anguish. I am so glad grief is not completely with me. So as the day ends, I will try to sleep. Sleep has been elusive, restful sleep that is. Last night wasn’t all that bad. But there is a struggle going on in the background I know. We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Tomorrow is the strangest anniversary of my life. Tomorrow I will reflect on that day.

Written Monday, September 9, 2019 / Day 28 / Evening An interesting thing has happened at the beach. In this completely new situation I realize something more vividly than I have before. I am alone. On my own. It struck me in several ways. One is that I have no one to share the situation with. I mean I do have the family here of course and there is sharing going on that way. But my confidant, my partner, the one that we freely would assess and take in all that was taking place is no longer here for me. I am alone. And that is awkward. Thankfully right now it is just strange. I think this is because there is nothing here from the past. At least I do not have the tug of that after me. But what I do have is this strange independence. I am traveling alone and that is just plain weird. I always had someone to take care of. And in the more recent past - someone to take care of on a more intimate level. Not only the traveling and those elements, but helping to get ready, organize things and just be involved. At this level, traveling had become difficult for me in the last few years. It was never a restful time - only a time with different patterns of responsibility that could not be ignored. Now on my own - the resounding emptiness is deafening. What, only have myself to take care of? Impossible! To make my own decisions is also quite uncomfortable at one level. I get to choose. There is nothing to check, no opinion other than my own to consider. And that is strange. Uncomfortable in a way. Freeing in another. Just as in full-blown grief (which for the moment has not reached out to grab me) the conflict of emotions can be quite unsettling. Which one wins? Well, none of them do - they just battle each other until I give up trying to manage them - or at least their perspectives before I break down. I also find that some of the reading materials I brought with me are impossible for me to read. When I tried to read one of them, it took me immediately back to my pre-grief life. That life I long to have once again but will never reclaim. That awareness alone was enough to make me put the items away. Away until some future time when they will not hurt so much to visit them. I also find I must retreat to my room regularly. There is just not enough energy to engage in what would be considered “normal” conversation. There just isn’t any emotional strength available for that kind of activity. I know they understand. Sleeping as well has been a challenge. Certainly it is a new environment, a new bed and all of that - but sleep has not come easy. Another battle - but one we are enduring. The new computer has been a pleasant distraction. My son helping me with certain aspects as I run into them. The new computer will be a great tool for that day I’ll be able to use a new tool. It just won’t be tomorrow - or the foreseeable future. Yet this is a neutral place - relatively speaking - it is providing some therapeutic value. It is a beautiful place - right now, at night, the quiet sounds of the crashing waves are a reassuring element, a comforting reminder of peace. Today I mailed an anniversary card to couple back in western New York. Their anniversary is Thursday and my wife had a card already bought for them. I sent it to them in honor of her as I will do on all the occasions coming up. I will follow in her footsteps as best I can. So off to try to rest in this neutral place. I had a few brief moments today - and I know more are awaiting me when I return. For now I will enjoy neutrality. When you live in grief, neutrality is just about as great as joy. Even though I do not see past the current state, I know I will be able to operate some day. But for now, I will enjoy the beach, the environment and the family. That is comforting me. Grief, I know, will be waiting for me when I return. But when I return I pray this week will leave me a little stronger as God leads me to the future He has in mind for me.

Written Sunday, September 8, 2019 / Day 27 / Afternoon Yesterday, Saturday, was the day that we left for the beach. Something that is totally out of character for me - and by extension would have been with my wife as well. So off to the adventure I went. Preparations were a welcome distraction. The thought of not being home fighting the memories and endless reminders was encouraging. However, the thought of being on my own is totally disarming. I am on my own. I have no pressure - other than packing - no obligations. And no sweetie pie to share it with. So it goes - the give and take of the new world. It was a pleasant day when we left and a seemingly uneventful trip. We arrived in my new reality around 4 pm. A different world. A welcome change. A little empty but different. The ocean has its own power, its own majesty and presence. A soothing cascade of sound, a calming sound. The rental home is magnificent. Large, new and bright. There is a room for everyone. I have my own bed with attached bath. Very nice. Tagging along is an advantage. The family chugs along with its own energy. The children generating most of that energy. The laid-back atmosphere fits completely with my mood. When I can tell what my mood is. It’s hard to focus so I hang back. It’s hard to engage in a lot of conversation at this point so I show up and then retreat into my room. I bought a new computer. The purchase was on the agenda all year. My wife encouraged me to buy it before but I couldn’t because it would have taken me away from her and I could not be comfortable with that. Now that I have it - It’s like I was able to fulfill her intention of buying it. I had received it a few days before we left but I did not open it. I would wait until we got to the beach. A symbolic gesture, for sure, and one that made sense to me. New environment, new computer, new beginning. Sort of. But it’s a start. I’m not a beach person so it will be interesting. The views are stunning - the house sits on the beach. This will be good for me I know. It’s like grief has been relegated to a holding pen. It’s still out there but its power is somewhat limited. This makes my entire being somewhat numb. I will take the advice of a dear friend who commented on the photo I emailed of the home. She said enjoy your time…just don’t think too much. I think that’s a great idea. We’re leaving for dinner now. That’s what I’ll focus on.

Written Friday, September 6, 2019 / Day 25 / Afternoon This morning something unusual happened. It was the second time it happened on this journey. I woke up refreshed. I woke up rested. I woke up feeling normal. And it was infinitely odd. Normal is something I don't do these days. A tiny smidgen of normal tries to show up at times but is immediately crushed by the weight of the environment I current live in. So to feel "normal" in any way is somewhat of a big deal. Did grief decide to take a holiday? I lay there in awe. The bed was comfortable. The setting tranquil. I peeked out at the clock and turned over to savor a few moments of this unexpected calmness. The house seemed "normal" as well. The mood of it - the atmosphere of it. All of this contributed to this stunning moment. Dare I get up? Well that seemed normal as well. Hmmmm...I was becoming suspicious. But then reality must have noticed my presence and the most distressing thing happened. I started thinking. This could not lead to a good place. But for a while it didn't. I considered the day. The plans in place to head towards the beach - unless hurricane Dorian devastated the place. Reports were it didn't. That was happening up north. Our destination seemed to be all right except for power outages. Then it happened. I don't know how it started - it's hard to know. Sort of like a forest fire. It just takes a spark. And there was mine. And down I went. Not as bad as the previous day. The previous day was a series of falling off emotional cliffs. My analytical mind echoing in my brain, "Is THIS what I have to go through to get through this?" - moments before the crashes would come. So maybe the previous day was just a preparation for the morning. A little bit of tranquility in the midst of the storm. A lot like being in the eye of the hurricane. There is it relatively calm - until the rest of the storm arrives. So I prepped for the trip and had a somewhat milder day. I'll take it. Grief took a short break. And for that I was immensely grateful.

Written Thursday, September 5, 2019 / Day 24 / Evening In the movie "The Perfect Storm" a fishing vessel becomes trapped in the confluence of several significant storms that combined into something called the "perfect storm". What is a "perfect storm"? A web service called "Freebase" says this: A "perfect storm" is an expression that describes an event where a rare combination of circumstances will aggravate a situation drastically. The term is also used to describe an actual phenomenon that happens to occur in such a confluence, resulting in an event of unusual magnitude. In my grief story that is exactly where I am. It struck me that I have several additional forces at work on me. Apart from the loss of my wife - looking back it was orderly in a weird kind of way. During that time - there was a calm yet unsettled feeling because I could see where it was heading. I had no regrets about many things. And in the end I was with her and so were the important people God called together. That doesn't take away the overwhelming grief and despair that I face - but at least there is not guilt, perceived missed opportunities or other factors that would only cause more intensity - if that was even possible. I had a strange marriage. I loved my wife dearly. I wanted to be with her. I would kid her that I had been chasing her for 40+ years and now I could finally catch her! I told her I loved her every day and took care of her no matter what it cost me personally. Beyond our marriage, we grew up in the same area (Buffalo, New York) - she is Italian, I am a calm quiet Englishman. Back in those early days, her family had a store right around the corner from where my parent and I lived. My mother worked part time in their store. We knew each others families. This was a deeper bond than most people share. It added to the richness of our lives together. Then when she became intensely ill in April, 2015, I became her caregiver. I took off three months of work to do that - not really caring if I had a job when I got back (which I did). I continued the care as I worked full-time giving her everything I could. So the loss I am experiencing is profound on so many levels. Wrapping our heads around the fact the person is no longer here is just not possible for an indefinite time period as far as I can see. Losing my sweetheart, with all our history and the love between us generates a tsunami of emotions that there just is not any defense for - it comes and sweeps me away. Plus we did everything together so as I think about doing anything - she is at the center of it. There's a kind of pain associated with that connection that is now lost that cannot register on any scale I can construct. So not only is the death beyond comprehension, half of my life operationally is also wiped out. The majority of the activities in my life have her at their core. The paralyzing effect of this combination of lost elements is just beyond what these puny words can convey. So that's why it hurts so much. I do the administrative things fine - as well as things I used to do on my own without her. But my life was inextricably intertwined with hers. How in the world does this become unraveled? Even if I wanted it. The paradox is striking. I cannot operate without her and without her I cannot operate. It makes the orderly Systems Analyst in me have a major logic meltdown. Emotion and logic really don't mix. You can mix oil and vinegar salad dressing more easily. They don't combine well on their own but shake them up for a while and they will mix. This logic just cannot even exist on the same page together with these strong emotions. So my prayer is for God to help me figure out how I will ever operate again. The high state of apathy I feel right now has got to be the result of the impasse. I really can't focus on the things I used to. I can't really watch TV and the things we watched without her. When I think of an activity - I'm stopped in my tracks if she had been any part of it in the past. I am totally immobilized. I still need her and yet she is no longer here. And she was good with what was coming. She had been prepared and accepted the final decision God made. We had the miracle in 2015, and this time we would not. It's just me that now is suffering. I don't have a caregiver. And I am in charge of everything and feel ill-equipped to have that responsibility. I have the perfect storm of grief. All I know is that storms eventually pass. Storms end. The skies clear. And the sun comes out again. I long for that day - I know it is coming. I pray it would be tomorrow.

Written Wednesday, September 4, 2019 / Day 23 / Evening If I could sum up this day - it has been a day of contending. Everything I have done has seemed to bring up a deep moment of reflection, loss and grief that surprises me and overwhelms me. It is a memory of something that we did together, a glance at a photo, a moment with something in the house that meant something. The most regular theme was the deep loss of being together, sharing the things that we did and that now I am alone never to experience any of those activities. Yes, I already know these things. Yet the reality of the loss steps in and says, "I know you know, but it's time to have a little anguish...". Well thanks a lot! Just what I need. But then I see her in the situation, get slapped in the face mentally and reminded that she is not here and that I am alone. And then the tears come. And more tears. I see my sweetie in my mind and I just get overwhelmed. Then I go though my logic routine, she was good with this...now she is not suffering..God decided and she trusted in him...and on and on... But Mr. Anguish and his friends are too much for my logic. Logic is no match for emotion. And so I contend. I pray for strength. God, is this how it has to be? Is there no other way to say goodbye? Apparently not as I sob a little more intently. And then this evening two dear friends called. Both were a soothing salve. It was calming and just what I needed. But the past and the present are having an argument. And I apparently have a front row seat. Sort of like those terrible accidents at the motor speedway when a car goes crashing into the stands and people get hurt. I keep getting hurt. I pray God can get me a better seat.

Written Tuesday, September 3, 2019 / Day 22 / Afternoon I received a call today from someone who had just found out about my wife yesterday. She was going to call right then when she had heard but could not pull herself together to make the call. I understand. As we were talking about the situation - I told her I would send her some of the story I had written to share with those who were not part of the immediate impact of the situation. She mentioned something to me that deeply touched me in a wonderful way. We had run into this couple occasionally and our meetings were always warm and friendly. We have known them for most of the time in Virginia (30+ years) so we have a lot of background. Time and space and responsibilities seemed to have kept us apart. She mentioned to me that my wife, in her conversation with her told her two things. That she had lived a full life and was prepared for whatever future God had for her. Then she mentioned how I have taken care of her so well during all of her illness - the exact comment she related was " I could not have had a better husband.". That touched me to the core of my being. For some reason it was like she was saying it to me right then. I loved her with my whole heart and this comment was a validation of what I knew she knew. It was overwhelming. Back when we first got together - 47 years previously, her situation was not good. We would lament now how wrong some of the things we did were - but know that at the time - we were struggling as all of us have done to get through what life puts in front of us. Back then, my future wife was in an incredibly emotional period of time. I had bonded to her in a way that was beyond my years (22) and in the end I couldn't leave her to face the situation alone. I continually told her for years afterward I would never leave her - even when her emotional state told her that I might - it was that traumatic. Well I never did. I was with her until 9:50 am, August 12, 2019. I had never left her. I know that's one of the reason that the pain and anguish of her being gone strikes me so deeply. Back in that day - we had a song. It was by Anne Murray and it was called "You needed Me". It was one of those songs that you would swear was written just for you. It was our theme song. I'd like to share the lyrics after I relate the situation so you can experience the deep meaning it has. As I mentioned, she was in an extreme emotional state at the time. Her life was changing in a fundamental way. Her family and friends did not understand the depth of it. That is how it is when you are just an observer to the superficial elements of what can be seen and not the depths of the emotions behind them. It was a confusing time for her. She had been married before - and not to dwell on that but to relate that she had a new opportunity ahead of her. I loved her then - just as I did at 9:49 am on that August 12th morning. She was everything then and all the days in between. With my love, she was able to get a grip on her situation and go forward, She had never had such love in her life and it was amazing to her. Likewise I had never had anyone even remotely care about me in the way she did. I was equally in disbelief about such a relationship. We were the most unlikely people to be together. We knew each other from an early age and our backgrounds couldn't have been any more different than they were. Ultimately we did not intend to be together - but over time we came to see how much we really cared for each other. It was January - there were many cold nights I would hold her hand and take her home and comforted her that everything would be all right. She had a new hope she never thought possible through the love we discovered. It was the most honest thing we both ever experienced. We were always sorry for the problems it brought with it. I want you to see how the words of this song illustrate this time of our life. I always needed her and she knew it and I never ever left her. I couldn't. You Needed Me - Anne Murray I cried a tear, you wiped it dry I was confused, you cleared my mind I sold my soul, you bought it back for me And held me up and gave me dignity Somehow you needed me You gave me strength to stand alone again To face the world out on my own again You put me high upon a pedestal So high that I could almost see eternity You needed me, you needed me And I can't believe it's you I can't believe it's true I needed you and you were there And I'll never leave, why should I leave, I'd be a fool 'Cause I finally found someone who really cares You held my hand when it was cold When I was lost, you took me home You gave me hope when I was at the end And turned my lies back into truth again You even called me friend You gave me strength to stand alone again To face the world out on my own again You put me high upon a pedestal So high that I could almost see eternity You needed me, you needed me You needed me, you needed me I did all of those things for her and more. I know this can't effect you as much as it does me - but in this song was the core of our relationship. She is and was everything to me. I marvel at the gift she was to me. Nothing could take our love away. Until now. The relationship is now over - for that I mourn. God gave me a great gift in her. And for that I will always be grateful beyond words.

Written Tuesday, September 3, 2019 / Day 22 / Early Morning There's no doubt that my life will never be more awkward as it is today. It's upside down with new powerful emotions I cannot not always control. These emotions bring deep distress. My life has a hole in it bigger than the grand canyon and my current state of nothingness is strange in its own unprecedented way. So how in the world do you approach someone in this kind of place? How do you reach out and connect to me? With "thoughts and prayers" of course. Prior to my current world of grief I was on the "Other side" of death, loss and separation at this level. I would be touched by the news of a loss and like most, wanted to reach out. Since we are all so lost about these topics - all of us struggle as to how to do that. None of us understand what we are all going through yet within that context we try our best to do something. To reach out some way. We really want to "do" something for the person. Food, chores, etc. we see those tasks as something that can be done. I remember at the reception somehow having the presence of mind to help those visiting me to feel a sense of doing something beyond the trite "paying respects" to the grieving family. I told everyone I could that the very act of coming, comforting me and talking about my dear sweetie WAS something. It meant (and still does) mean a lot! I appreciated it because it represented an action of love beyond just the popping in, punching your timecard and exiting gracefully from the event. Which of course in the past, we have all done. Beyond that there is the act of sending a card of sympathy. My wife and I would choose one of appropriate impact (to us) where the message seemed to be a comforting one and made us feel it would be a meaningful expression beyond the normal stereotypical boilerplate cards. But then to write a little something in the card presented a bit of a problem. What can be said? Depending upon how well you know the person - that may not be a problem at all - and good - heartfelt expressions are sorely welcomed at this time. Believe me - that is truly the case - they are like a smoothing ointment. But in general this is the time to define what would be the best things to say when you don't know what to say. Because for all the uniqueness as to how we all grieve - there are universal standards that can be applied here. We don't feel we know the “right way” to approach the person or fear we might upset them. I'm here to tell you how to approach us. All of us. None of these expressions will ever be inappropriate! Remember that the person is grieving. We are often afraid we might upset the person if we say the "wrong thing". Well let me tell you - I'm already way past upset. I've blasted on past upset and am now living in a world where I am in an emotional shooting gallery where grief and his friends emptiness, despair and loneliness take shots at me all the time. So don't worry about upsetting the cart. The cart is upset. Actually I can't even find the cart. Saying that you are shocked by the news, upset about the situation is never a bad thing to say. Here you are taking a step into my world. A world I really don't want you to ever understand or experience. So taking that step is brave on your part. This is like a small hug of acknowledgement - those help. Acknowledging that you don't know what to say is also appropriate. Don't worry that I will mark you off for not knowing what to say - sometimes I can only sob at times and not know what to say to even myself. If the situation is one where you knew the person - a reference to that person and how they touched you would be very appropriate. But if it is a co-worker, someone who might not have known the family member directly, acknowledging the loss by saying how special the person was is also good. Before you write the "if you need anything" comment, let me tell you what you should actually write if you truly want to "do something". "If you need anything" is a sincere expression of wanting to do something for the person you long to comfort in some way. But it is so open ended that it is too vast and general to be anything specific. And that causes us to not actually ask because of its generality. It's almost a comment you might use if you really don't know what to do and yet want to appear available. Sort of like "let's do lunch sometime" but never really getting your calendar out to make a specific date. Take the initiative and here are several areas you can use depending upon how you would like to act: "I want to take you out to lunch sometime." Put the response on the person, "let me know whenever you would like to meet" so they can choose the time. Now into my 4th week - in my case I have some days where I'd rather do nothing - but have scheduled a few lunches with friends. It may take time - but knowing you are actually willing to meet goes a long way and keeps the person from being a bit reluctant to call your "If I can do anything" generality with something specific - sometimes it's difficult to ask. "Perhaps we can meet for coffee sometime?". I'll leave it up to you to tell me when. This is also a great approach. Believe me - it is comforting knowing you can call someone for a specific thing. "If you need help with anything around the house let me know. I'd love to help". The person may or may not need this level of help - but if you are inclined to offer it - the offer will be appreciated. "I plan on dropping off a meal for you - please call me to let me know what you'd like". Showing up with stroganoff when the person just likes grilled cheese can be a problem you'll never know about. They may take the stroganoff, feed it to the cat and thank you for your generosity. Having the person tell you what they might like is a nice touch. And let's not forget the intent behind the "thoughts and prayers" comment. I have used it. When I have I used it - I felt I was legitimately expressing my feelings. Sometimes I don't know if the person is religious or not - so "thoughts and prayers" is the handy and convenient way to cover your bases. "Thoughts" covers the non-religious. Sending thoughts is sort of like wishing, or hoping. What is that really anyway? Seems like something you say to sound like you are saying something when you really are not saying anything at all. It works for some. "Prayers" however are another thing. If you have read these essays you are aware that my wife and I strongly believe in God. And in the past I may have shied away from mentioning God apart from the innocuous "thoughts and prayers" comment. Even before I was in this current state, we would mention God to everyone we sent a card to - whether we knew they were religious or not. And even if you do not know God and His Son as of yet, mentioning that you pray God will comfort the person and give them peace is totally appropriate. If they don't have God in their life - at this time they certainly do need Him. There is more to this life than this life. Don't be afraid to mention God - it may be a catalyst for both you and the person you are writing to. That's the way He works. One of the last scriptures I read to my wife in the hospital was Romans chapter 8 verses 18 to 23. It says so much about what is relevant to me now - and may be helpful to someone who sees God as a problem or even the cause of their current despair. As you reach out to the grieving - be sincere in your communications. Don't rely on the standard - reach out to the person no matter how closely you know them or not. There are no wrong answers. We are already profoundly upset. Believe me you can't upset us any more than we already are. Your sincere words WILL touch the person. And in the end - that is what we all should be trying to do.