I, like Professor Barbara Held in the case of her sister, don’t deny that my beloved husband died (“Grief is not a problem to be solved,” Opinion, Sept. 29).

We seem to agree there is no one to be angry with — neither one of us believes in God — but, unlike her, I am depressed even though I have accepted my husband’s death. If I am wrong, and my husband is under God’s watch, I appreciate people who are believers praying for him. Yet, I think heaven is not better than being alive and by my side. 

Unlike Professor Held, my good memories are comforting. I think of his laughing at my silly jokes; of being able to see his handsome face; of his listening when I needed him to calm or reassure me; and of his undying affection. 

I respect Professor Held’s feeling that good memories don’t help. I feel differently. But I was happy that her last memory of her sister was “… a gift from the gods.” I wish my last recollection of my husband was as consoling. He died in agony saying, “Just kill me.”

But as Professor Held states, with a quote from Dr. Colin Murray Parkes: “The pain of grief is just as much a part of life as the joy of love.” I will endure the loneliness because of the loving memories of 51 years of marriage, and I will try to ignore the disturbing remembrances that are painful. 

B. Ann Levine, Ph.D.
Kennebunk