How not to deal with me, Mr. Stranger.

Ok, so this one topic is probably one of the main reasons I started to want to write about what its like to be me. This one may, at some point, be a bit sensitive.

Conversations with strangers and acquaintances have been interesting since J died. Inevitably, no matter what the topic of discussion, it often comes out that I recently lost the love of my life. Sometimes it's because I can't deal and it just comes out because I say whats weighing on my mind; sometimes its because i'm flakey and I hate being that way, so I use my only explanation; often it's "why are you in New England," and other times it's the whole reason i'm in the conversation. I try to be as cordial and non-confrontational as possible, and i'm really not looking for people to feel bad for me. Most of the time it's me trying to get people to "use kid gloves," as my father in law would say. If I don't understand, need you to repeat something, seem like a flake, or just daze off, it's because at that moment, my life sucks more than most people can comprehend.

This brings me to what responses I get, what I think is appropriate, and what most jackasses say. Here is an example of a "good" conversation about my loss.


Me: I recently lost my wife.
Stranger: I'm so very sorry for your loss. I can't imagine what that must be like.
Me: I appreciate it, there is nothing anyone can do about it now. 
Stranger: So...how about them Bears?

Notice that discussion about my trauma ends? I did too. Also notice I classify this as good. Do I want to tell you, Mr. Stranger, anything else about it? No, i'm just looking for you to understand the frame of mind of your conversation partner. I've also come to realize that in our society there is no really good way for this to come up, nor are words really helpful. Words like "sympathy," "condolences," "I'm sorry," all mean something, and I truly appreciate the sentiment, but there really is not a good way to deal with this subject.

Now lets get to the jackassery. I don't think people mean to be this way, and I think the majority of it is purely human curiosity, but honestly think of what you say to someone who has had trauma/ egregious loss... So here is an example of this type of exchange...

Me: I recently lost my wife.
Stranger: I'm sorry for your loss.
Me: I appreciate it, there is nothing anyone can do about it now. 
Stranger: How did she die?/Was it expected?/Did she have cancer?/What happened?
Me: I just came home from work and found she had passed.
Stranger: How did she die?/Was it expected?/Did she have cancer?/What happened?
Me: blah blah blah

Notice in discussion with the jackass they keep asking questions. This can sometimes keep going, and I understand Mr. Guy at the Bank you are curious, but keep shit professional and leave me alone. If you knew LJ, I probably wouldn't mind talking to you, but...you didn't, you're just being a curious selfish prick. 

I'll annotate what happens to me during this conversation.

Me: I recently lost my wife. (I still flinch at saying these words, no matter how many times they have come out of my mouth.)
Stranger: I'm sorry for your loss. (Stock response, no big deal. Oh wait...shit, you're that guy aren't you. At this point I start to try and defend myself as best as possible and create distance, give the blank look devoid of emotion (because i am...), try to steer conversation away from the inevitable.) 
Me: I appreciate it, there is nothing anyone can do about it now. (This is where the "fuck you's" or just plain "fuck"'s start...over and over...fuck you buddy, fuck you buddy, fuck fuck fuck- You're going to ask aren't you?)
Stranger: How did she die?/Was it expected?/Did she have cancer?/What happened? (Yup, you're that guy...)
Me: I just came home from work and found she had passed. (This is my stock response, it is in fact what happened. HOWEVER, when I say these words I will inevitably relive knocking on my bathroom door to no response and opening it to find that my worst nightmare had become reality. Sometimes, it is just a passing flashback, other times...it is everything down to not being able to get 911 to dial until the third or fourth try because I was trembling so bad and the send key on LJ's iPhone wasn't big enough and I kept dialing the * and  # and not "Send" (I saw her phone laying next to her and it was my first thought to use it, not my iPhone in my pocket). Sometimes it's my gorgeous brides face after I uncrumpled her... Yeah...Mr Jackass, thanks for helping me relive the moments that are in my head 75% of the time, today, you made it 85%, thanks.) 
Stranger: How did she die?/Was it expected?/Did she have cancer?/What happened? (This is were you find the characteristic glazed over look come into play. At first it was involuntary, I've come to perfect it lately and let it take me to the point of almost losing it, but not quite. It's a pretty sweet defense. At this point, after the first question I'm really just reliving that day)
Me: blah blah blah (This is were I start to turtle up and one word answers are all you're going to get. You see little kids put their arms and legs inside of a jacket...yeah, I wish adults could do that.)


I'm sure there is more to it, but for tonight i'm hanging it up. Please know if you ask me these questions, and you and I, or you and Lyndsay Jo had a personal relationship, I don't mind talking about it. And for all the people who have asked me and I haven't responded: Arrhythmogenic Right Ventricular Cardiomyopathy. Check it out at AVRD.com.