Standing Outside the Room

We often begin to grieve before the loss itself, quietly preparing our hearts for what we know is coming. Those were the words spoken softly by a gentleman standing outside the room where his wife lay bedridden. "I'm tired," he murmured. He went on to explain that she no longer wishes to live, that she says it every day.

Then he added, "I feel the same way—bringing our lives to an end together."

I had no words. But in the silence, by simply meeting his honesty with presence and allowing his emotions to rise to the surface, something important unfolded. He was able to recognize his own grief, to name what he felt without apology—free from expectation, free from comparison, free from the burden of how we believe we should feel or how others think we must.