"Well, you look fine to me, sitting there and talking to me," an O6 said to a widow in uniform. He wasn't particularly sympathetic.

Her name is Kathleen, and when her Navy SEAL husband was killed in 2002, she was a new Navy officer on her first deployment. She was standing watch in Bahrain when she received the news. It took her two-and-a-half days to fly to Washington, DC, to bury him at Arlington, Va.

Less than 30 days after her husband's death, she was back on her ship pulling 18-hour duty days. She was not only responsible for her job performance, but she was also responsible for the young men and women under her command.

"I could have been released from these duties," she says, "but I felt that my place was with my people who served under me. I was always told the military takes care of their own. I thought that the Navy is my community -- within this community I would heal the wounds from losing my husband."

But she learned a hard lesson. "When you conduct yourself professionally and continue to do your job," she says, "everyone just assumes that you're fine and therefore, they don't offer to help you."

Kathleen's Navy family expected her to take care of herself. Yet, what she was going through was no different from what all surviving military widows and widowers go through. It's described in a one-of-a-kind book titled, “Military Widow: A Survival Guide,” and it's harrowing.

“Military Widow” was written by Joanne Steen, a military widow herself, and Regina Asaro, a military spouse and mental health specialist. In it, they describe how much harder it is when someone young and vibrant dies suddenly and violently -- the overwhelming grief, the feeling among survivors that they're going crazy.

Then there are the dumb things people say and the endless decisions that have to be made -- which casket to choose, what to do with the SGLI, where to live, what to do with your wedding bands, even what to do with the "I love me" wall. This book is a valuable resource for survivors, plus anyone who knows a survivor or just wants to better understand.
 
When I talk to widows 10 and 15 years afterward, even those who have found a new love, they laugh when they remember the good times with their lost love. But they still cry, too. Yes, they heal, yes they "move on"... whatever that means. But there's still an empty hole deep inside that can never be filled by anybody except one unique person, and that person is gone. As the years go by, they will always work through different phases of loss.

Kathleen hasn't gotten much help with that. When she went back to bury her husband in Arlington, she was assigned a Casualty Assistance Calls Officer there in Washington to help with the funeral arrangements. But that was all that CACO was authorized to do. Since Kathleen's home port was San Diego, a CACO there was supposed to help her with everything else. That help never materialized. Later she was told (incorrectly), that it was because she "chose" to return to her ship, as if by doing her duty she had forfeited the right to any help at all.

As a result, Kathleen knew nothing about TAPS (Tragedy Assistance Program for Survivors), Gold Star Wives, counseling options, or how to maneuver through the benefits maze. She received virtually no counseling. She wound up paying for her own move. She was the one who made the arrangements to have her husband's personal effects shipped.

It took her a year to track down any details about how he had died. She had to file a Freedom of Information Act request three times because the first two requests were lost, and each time she was sent back to the end of the line. When she finally did receive some information, it included graphic, full-color autopsy photos, even though she had checked "No" in the box next to photos.

As a community, we must care for all our widows and widowers. Whether we're CACOs, neighbors, admin clerks, friends, coworkers, or superior officers, we must remind ourselves that our care and concern make a difference. The ones who wear a squared-away uniform may look like they don't need us. But they do.

Kathleen says it best: "For the person whose world has just been turned upside down, sometimes the hardest step to take is the one to ask for help, because you're just so overwhelmed. It used to take my utmost concentration and focus for me to clear my mind just to eat a bowl of oatmeal in the morning and keep it down. And yet I'm continually asked why I didn't do more to help myself, why I didn't call a number or look up a number that I had no idea even existed. I mean, I had trouble with oatmeal."

For more questions about finding support for widowed military spouses, visit Military.com's Spouse Network.