Neighbors on both sides of my home have faced the death of wives after long and happy marriages. Both are strong, successful men who are accustomed to being able to solve any and all problems that come their way. Like most men, they are far more inclined to go off into some cave and lick their wounds than to admit to any need. Like most men, they are afraid of intimacy and the thought of crying in front of someone is more scary than the thought of having to struggle through alone. 

I went to see both of them very soon after the deaths and offered any support they were willing to accept. They both shrugged it off and either said they were doing fine or that they thought this was something they had to work through on their own. Too proud to admit need, and I had to honor that. I too am a man and probably will react the same way if I am ever called upon to face such a tragedy. 

I learned a long time ago that we cannot force care upon anyone. We can offer, and offer again, but we do not have the right to burst in and force someone to share with us. The hardest part of my work is the waiting for someone to want help. I watch them suffer. I watch them struggle. I watch them remarry far too soon simply to find some relief, while I sit and hope they will one day see the need for a place to deal with their feelings in honesty and openness. 

I fretted over this for years and then began to discover a pattern of behavior that helped me know how to help men too proud to counsel. I hope it will also be of help to others who are having to watch some man they love try to go it alone. I discovered we must do our comfort as they pass by.

The neighbor whose wife died several years ago seemed to almost panic at the thought of counseling. He did accept my offer of some of the books on grief that I have written but never said whether or not he read them. I worried about him for several months and then began to notice he was making up excuses to come to my home. He had never been inside the front door before, but he began dreaming up reasons to come by. He brought me some fish, and then some tomatoes, or he had some question about our mutual fence. I would always invite him in and he seemed anxious to do so. We would sit for quite a long time and the talk would inevitably become about his wife. He had learned how to do counseling without ever having to admit the fact even to himself. We ended up having about as many sessions as I normally would have with someone who had lost a spouse, but we kept that fact well hidden. We still meet at the fence and we always talk about his wife even though she has been dead for over ten years.

The other neighbor's wife died a few months ago. He took my offer of books and even admitted that he had read them, but clings to his statement that he must work this out for himself. My daily exercise takes me by his house and up the street. On several occasions he has driven up behind me on his way to somewhere and stopped for a chat. We talk for several minutes, him in the safety of his pickup truck and me in the street. He shares how tough it is and how alone he feels, but makes no move toward my standing offer of a listening ear. All he can face is comfort in passing. That is not ideal but it is a whole lot better than him being in his cave alone. There is no healing in the cave.

Offer and then wait for the chances to give comfort in passing may be the answer to helping men walk through grief. Just be sure to be ready without being pushy when the times for comfort in passing come to the door or down the street.