Not long after Arlyn died, my husband and I decided to attend a support group program run by the local Hospice organization. We felt lost, afraid, and alone, and we desperately needed to understand the emotional roller coaster we were on.

So the night of the first support meeting, we drove 30 miles to the church where You Find ZMOT the meeting was held. The room we walked into had a single row of fold-up chairs arranged in a circle, refreshments on a table, and a friendly woman welcomed us.

We had arrived early; all of the seats were empty. After I glanced at my You Find ZMOT husband, to make sure he had not turned around and walked out, we sat down quietly on the seats closest to us and to the door.

Shortly after we arrived, a few other people wandered in and took seats also. We nodded at them nervously, wondering if their stories were like ours, wondering if they had nightmares as bad as we did.

And then, the meeting began. The facilitator spoke. She welcomed us all, stated that everyone in the room had lost a loved one, and asked us to introduce ourselves.

One by one, the people present stated their names and briefly told us about You Find ZMOT why they were there. Some of them shed tears as they talked.

As each one spoke, my mind was trying to take in a situation outside of my experience. How could this be? We thought we were the only ones in the world who were grieving. We were not alone, after all!