The funeral is over. Two weeks have passed. Or is it three? You sit at the kitchen table staring blankly into the face of a missing child on the back of an empty milk carton and sip black coffee. You need to get out of the house. Someplace, anyplace that will take your mind off Him and the memories that loop your brain.

You need a quart of milk and a box of cereal. So you hop in the car, turn the ignition, back out the garage, and head for your local supermarket. It is less than three blocks away, but as you park His Camry between two white lines, your brain is a Kadachrome of images –images of Him – Him holding the car door for you, Him loading and unloading the car with groceries for you, Him pushing the carriage through the supermarket aisles for you, as you compare toilet paper prices and decide which cookies to buy. At the same time, memories of your first date fill your head; your first kiss, and last. By the time you enter the supermarket and push a carriage down the produce aisle, you are a puddle, scampering like a scared puppy for the exit. In your mind’s eye, you feel the gravity of 1001 eyes on the back of your neck. And they’re not from the potatoes.

You’re not crazy. You’re grieving. And I’m here to tell you, you can and you will get through your grief.

The following is a list of four things you need to remember the next time, you, the new widow, venture out your front door:

1. Give yourself permission to grieve. Tell yourself, “Self, you have permission to grieve anytime, anyplace, anywhere, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 4 weeks a month, 52 weeks a year.”

Welcome. You are now a member of an exclusive club, the one that takes no volunteers, the one that no one wants to be a member of.

2. Breathe. That’s it. Inhale. Exhale. Just breathe.

Every time you think you can’t do it any more, place your hand on your belly, and feel your breath. Ground yourself in it.

3. Tissues. Don’t leave home without them.

Stuff your purse, pockets, car glove box, and your bra with them. Not only will you make a great appearance, you’ll be able to blow your nose and blot your eyes the next time the wave hits. And trust me, honey, it will hit.

4. Don’t cry with your mascara on. Ha! Make jokes.

Write them in a notebook, on an index card, on a slip of paper. Friends and well-wishers will ask, What can I do for you? Tell them to send you a joke. Imagine how many jokes a widow would get if a widow did that. The next time a pang of grief sweeps over you, reach for a tissue, then grab your funny papers, and read. And for crying out loud, it won’t be long before your face is a smile, again.

Mourning the death of a soul mate is painful. On the long list of ugly, that one rockets to the top. But, following the above advice will help you get through it. Remember: there are no detours – Can’t go around it, can’t go under it, can’t go over it. You gotta go through it.

Linda Della Donna is a freelance writer and a widow. She writes from the heart. Her blog, http://www.griefcase.blogspot.com gives daily Mourning Joy to widows as they work through their grief. She wants every widow to know that "We" are not alone. Why not stop by and read her. Linda Della Donna lives 20 miles north of where The World Trade Center used to be with her small dog, Izzy and his little cat, Tux. You can learn more about her and the types of writing assignments she writes at http://www.littleredmailbox.com