Thursday, April 28, 2011

what am i doing?

you know what's

not easy?

talking about what

happened on march 25th, 2008

over and over and over and over


(you people know this better than anyone).

i lived it.

i wrote about it

and now

i'm reading it out

loud to

crowds of people

i wouldn't know

if it hadn't happened to me,

to us,

a little more

than three years ago.

i thought it

would get easier,

as i kept talking...

it hasn't.

but it has been incredibly

helpful for me

to talk about

it and to try to

give people even

a slight understanding

of what i was feeling

in that first year.


that said,

i often wonder

why the fuck i

put myself through

all of this?

is the pain

i endure every time

i open my mouth

at one of these events

really worth it?


it turns out that

it is.

the shared experience.

that thing that

can help us relate

to one another

and convince ourselves

that we are not alone

in this shit

is more powerful

than i'd ever understood.

and the more

i share my experience,

the more people i

meet who can

help alter my perspective

in the most

incredibly meaningful ways.

so i keep talking

and crying in public

and it helps me

more than i could

have hoped.


  1. What you're doing is important work. Keep it up! You won't even know all the people you've helped through this process, and I'm so glad it's helping you too.

  2. Well said Matt. I can commiserate and fully agree with the flip side of the coin. Helping others is such a big part of healing. It's such a strange feeling to be both excited by your accomplishment and feeling sad/guilty for how it came to be in the first place. Such a roller coaster of emotions. Hands up, baby. Hands up.

  3. You can never imagine all the lives you, Liz and Maddie have touched. Because you are online and there are so many people who touch your website, this one and others who know you and who know your story, your sharing is huge! I think sometimes that if I can help one widow through one lonely night by connecting with them, then maybe it makes the pain mean something. It's important that it means something - that it isn't all for nothing. You know what I mean, the "why did they die?" syndrome. Why did they have to be the one chosen to die young rather than living a fulfilling long life? We expect to live a long life, don't we? We think that we are invincible - until we're not.

    Please keep on doing what you do Matt, it is so incredibly valuable and it helps so many people.


  4. After hearing you read on Tuesday and watching everyone's reaction, I got a better understanding of how your story has affected people. You have given a louder voice to people who grieve and made those of us who have not lost a spouse a little more sensitive and a little more aware of what someone might be going through.

  5. Matt, you have definately touched me by your words and helped me to heal and not feel alone. Every time I run into someone who has become a widow/er.I recommend this blog! I have had no other real place to turn to to feel less alone. I am so grateful all of you are here!~

  6. I come to this website when I am desperate (like today), when I am hopeful, when I need to hear my own voice, when I need to hear the courage of others. Telling the story - helps others to know that life can change so quickly and everything you thought of your future life - can disappear in an instant. I don't know if you can ever truly know it unless you have experienced it but when someone stands before you and tells you their truth - it is in some ways a warning - like the old posts in Japan that said "beware Tsunami". . .
    Lyn, thank you for the reminder that in sharing the pain and connecting with others you do so many things - the most important is a reminder that we are not alone in our grieving. Others have lost their spouses/partners/loves - as we have.
    A moment ago I was hit with one of those "desperate grief" moments - Spring, his birthday coming, setting the table for a dinner I am having and remembering how we did this together, looking out the window into a future that seems like one slow march of despair.
    Now, I sit down and just let the tears come and I cry for the great loss of my husband and I come here and tell someone that today is a day that knowing someone else can tell a similar story - helps.
    thank you

  7. I've been worried about that for you. I bought the book, but still can't even read it. After reading your blog for so long and feeling the sheer pain and exhaustion the first time's hard to do it all over again. You are brave for doing what you do, and I admire you for that.

  8. Matt, to give when you are in pain is the greatest gift of all. It's a selfless act.

    I'm proud to tell people that I have met you x