Ten weeks have passed since my husband died. Ten weeks of a new status --widow. Widow. The word just seems to beg to be followed by a period. Period. The end: The end of years of love, intimacy, sex, companionship, friendship, partnership, marriage, the end of status -- wife.

I am grateful that my husband lived a long and productive life. So, please do not tell me how to grieve. Spare me the euphemisms. My husband did not "pass." He died. I have not "lost" him: I know exactly where his body is, and his spirit is with me. And. Do. Not. Speak. To. Me. Of. Closure. What a hideous word. Bring me acceptance but, never, closure.

I am a widow. Friendships, I learned, are not immune to grief. Despite what you may think, some friends will leave you when you need them the most. Perhaps they don't know what to say or how to act. After speaking to people in similar situations, I now realize that in many cases, friendship and grief do not mix.