Before and after my husband’s death, I experienced a lot of cruelty from so-called friends and acquaintances. Some of it was intentional. Some of it probably came from awkwardness or naïveté. Regardless, it hurt.

As a result, I’ve been asking God for the grace to forgive.

Many years ago, a priest gave me some simple advice. He said, “Every time the hurt resurfaces, say a Hail Mary for that person. Eventually the pain will lessen and the sting will ebb away.”

He was right.

I’ve used this method for past hurts, and it worked. The memories never disappeared, but the sting did. I eventually got to the point where I felt nothing.

So now, every time one of these recent hurts finds its way into my thoughts, I pray a Hail Mary.

I’m still stunned by people’s callousness before and after Dave’s death.

A doctor throwing a tantrum in our bedroom.

A woman who knew I hadn’t had any real respite in what felt like forever, yet still had a tantrum because I told her “no.”

Another woman who showed up while Dave was dying on hospice to tell me I was feeding him the wrong foods. Never mind that he was only able to take liquids by syringe. She even informed me there was a so-called cure for Alzheimer’s and said she was going to bring me some. I told her that if a cure truly existed, Dave would have already had it. Then she went back to her comfortable little world and, just a few days after Dave’s funeral, called to ask if I was going back to work.

The friends who never called or stopped by to sit with Dave so I could run to the grocery store or simply get out of the house for an hour.

The people who knew we’d received a huge snowfall but never checked to see if we were okay, if we could get in and out of our driveway, or whether our roof was safe under the snow load.

One of Dave’s good friends who decided he “really, really liked me” just a week after Dave’s funeral.

Another who called before Dave died insisting I should warehouse him because, in his words, Dave was already gone even if his body wasn’t.

And there were so many other painful moments.

Every one of those memories still surfaces from time to time.

And every time it does, I say a Hail Mary.

Not because what happened was acceptable.

Not because I’ve forgotten.

But because I want God’s grace to accomplish what I cannot do by myself.

Perhaps the hardest part was the head games after Dave passed. I won’t even go into those. I was exhausted, vulnerable, and, by nature, a people pleaser. Those mind games really threw me for a loop.

So, if someone you love is caring for a dying spouse, be kind. Even if it feels awkward, reach out. Offer to sit with their loved one for an hour so they can rest, take a shower, run to the grocery store, or simply get out of the house for a little while. Send a text. Make a phone call. They don’t need to hear all the right words. They just need to know they haven’t been forgotten.

And by God’s grace, in time, I will forgive.

Before I close, I also want to thank the people who were there.

Thank you to the person who faithfully came to spend time with Dave. Thank you to the friends who came to his funeral. And thank you to the friends in the Lower 48 who called, texted, prayed, encouraged me, and helped me through the end days when I couldn’t get a decent CNA caregiver for Dave in this community.

You may never fully know what your kindness meant to me.

From the bottom of my heart…

Thank you.

I love you all.

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Hail Mary

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.

Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

Amen.