This isn’t their fault. But it is your reality. The friend filter is brutal: it shows you who can sit in the darkness with you, and who needs you to turn the lights back on immediately. You won’t believe this one when you first become a widow. I didn't. But around month four or five, something terrible and wonderful happens.

If you are reading this because you’re in it right now—hand still shaking, eyes still puffy, brain still refusing to compute basic math—I see you. Let’s break down what this whammy actually is, so you know you aren’t going crazy. We expect the first hit. The phone call, the knock on the door, the silence in the bed. That whammy is grief in its pure, feral form. It’s the body blow that drops you to your knees.

But the insidious part? You don’t get to stay down. The undertaker’s assistant needs to know about the burial plot. The funeral home needs 12 copies of the death certificate. Your mother-in-law needs to know what flowers he would have wanted.

If this post resonated with you, drop a comment below. Tell me your whammy of the week. We’re in this stupid, terrible, beautiful boat together.