I give me a 9.5

There is an enormous amount of judgment in grieving. Who knew? Not me!
People I love often say: “How are you?”
“I’m doing well.” The silent addition to my statement is…”considering”.
Almost always the response is. “How are you really doing?”
This has happened more times than I can count. Coming from people I know love me and are worried about/for me. I appreciate that, but the unspoken sentiment feels like: You are not weeping openly. You are not lying in bed. You are not sobbing at any given moment. Aren’t you grieving?
Well, yes, yes I am grieving. But walking around sobbing, refusing to get out of bed, not showering, not living will do me no good. My children less good. I often feel as if I’m doing it wrong despite the fact that every book, every person, every counselor you will encounter seems to say: “There is no right way to grieve.”
I wonder what those people would think if they saw me cry when I got into an empty bed at night. Or reach for him in the middle of the night because for a fleeting and joyous moment I forget he’s not there and think he is. Or when I was prepping to host his family on Christmas Eve—something we have done since we moved into this house. We. And this year it was me. There were quite a few brief, nearly silent, but heart wrenching crying sessions that day.
Would the people who seem to be judging me on my grief be proud to have seen me fall apart? Would I have gotten a good score?
It’s hurtful sometimes, boggling at others, and sometimes it’s downright comical. I called someone on it recently. Very quietly but very bluntly (something Jim would have been extremely proud of, he was the person who taught me to say no because…just no--no excuse) “You know, when you do that “how are you really doing?” thing it makes me feel like you think I’m not grieving.
The response was shock, horror, dismay! But it still stands, that a more appropriate response, instead of how are you really doing, would be: Is there anything I can do? Do you need anything? Do you need to talk? If you do, just let me know.
No judgment. Just an offer of an ear or a hug or time.
The point isn’t to belittle these people. It’s just to put it out there that I had no idea, when the daily grief of caring for a dying person passed, and the grief of actual loss began, that I’d be getting scores on my apparent grieving.
Ironically, its Jim’s voice in my ear that I hear when I get all twisted up that maybe I am doing it wrong. I can hear him:
I’m gone. Crying over me constantly won’t bring me back. It won’t prove how much you loved me. You did that every day that I was here. I was your life when I was sick. You gave up everything. And now giving up the urge to move forward—as painful as it may be at times—will not do anything other than suck more out of you. Out of our children.
Staying in bed, not eating, not living will only make it worse. You stopped just about everything to be with me at the end and now, baby, it’s time to put one foot in front of the other. And get back into the life we built and take care of those kids we made and remember how much I loved you. How much you loved me. It never goes away. It’s just shifted to a different level. A different plane. And it’s all good. You can do this.
You can do this…
So in this bizarre, hard, painful, and sometimes darkly comical time in my life, the voice I still listen to, the best advice I still get, is from the man I loved more than I love breathing. The person I built an amazing life and an amazing family with. And yes, the man I am still grieving. Every day. Every breath. Every moment. But he’s the one making me strong, getting me through, and getting me going with taking each day as a new opportunity to live again, for me and for our children. It’s him. As always. Because nothing ever really changes when you’re in love.

**Author's Note: There seems to be some confusion on how that one comment could be deemed judgmental. In that vein, I'm adding some follow up comments I've received that add to my *perception* of being judged. 
"Well...I never *see you react*" 
"I never see you cry." 
"Well, I'm sorry, but *I* have to cry." 
"*I* cry for him every day..."
and so on. Also, while I'm here, for reader edification, this phenomenon seems to be with people in my real life. To date, no one online has ever done this to me. For which I am eternally grateful. xo 
XOXOSommer