Expect the Unexpected

Expect people to say dumb things.
Expect someone to say, "I'm sorry for your loss..."
Expect to have no idea what they are talking about. Expect to wonder what it is you've lost--you're thinking pocket change, a left-hand glove, perhaps your mind. You wonder where is "Lost and Found".
Expect to be asked out--by your best friend's husband.
Expect to be asked, "Do you masturbate," by your best friend.
Expect to break down in tears at the sound of the doorbell, each time the telephone rings, at the sight of a new born baby held in her mother's arms while out for a stroll with the dog.
Expect the beginning of every day and the end of every evening to make you cringe with pain and wish to be dead.
Expect to feel suicidal, angry, unhappy, happy, sad, mad, glad, alone, lonely, guilty, free, euphoric, bored, overworked, overwhelmed, tired, and despondent.
Expect not to.
Expect all your friends to run away.
Expect all your friends to come back.
Expect no one to understand how you feel, though they say, "I understand how you feel." They don't. They never will.
Expect not to answer dumb questions.
Expect to cry--when you least expect it. When you are driving. When you are walking. When you are bathing. When you are toweling off after a hot shower. When you open the mail. When you pay a bill. When you open the refrigerator door at 2 a.m. and wonder what it is you are doing and why are you reading the expiration date on the quart of milk parked on the top shelf.
Expect to laugh--at the dog peeing on the living room rug. At Channel 2 news. At the woman next door going out on a date with the woman down the street. Expect to wish it were you.
Expect to feel guilty that you are alive and that your husband is dead.
Expect to ask God, "Why me? Expect to ask God that question over and over and over, again.
Expect to feel weak.
Expect to feel strong.
Expect not to understand why this terrible thing has happened to you, a good person. Expect to think you do.
Expect to make plans to run away. Expect to cancel them, because you realize there is no place to run to.
Expect to kiss a fool. Expect to feel foolish, stupid, sorry, guilty.
Expect to wish for a giant eraser to erase away all your pain. And the world's.
Expect the pain to never go away.
Expect to smile when you feel like crying.
Expect to live when you feel like dying.
Expect to sleep when you least expect it.
Expect not to dream and wish you could.
Expect to feel like not talking
Expect not to be able to shutup.
Expect to be unable to focus.
Expect not to eat.
Expect to eat too much.
Expect to not be in the mood--for all the things you once were in the mood for.
Expect the sun to rise, daffodils to sprout, and every freaking bird in the neighborhood to sing, at once, right after you have just fallen asleep.
Expect autumn leaves to fall, expect a cold breeze, and expect every kid for a radius of twenty five miles to knock on your door at the end of a long hard day when you least expect it and exclaim, "Trick or Treat!"
Expect the stars to shine, the moon to glow, and the earth to spin on its axis.
You are a widow now. The unexpected is what separates you and me from the rest of the world.

NitiNil