A young widow and mom of 2 shares how to support someone in her position — and what's not helpful

• Holly Matthews was left a single mom of two when her husband died of brain cancer at 39.

• She said friends and relatives often struggled to "say the right thing" about her changed situation.

• The 39-year-old offered advice on what to say — and what not to say — to young widows like her.

When Holly Matthews was widowed at 32, she not only had to navigate her own grief but that of her daughters, then 6 and 4.

She knew they were in a somewhat uncommon situation, given they were a young family who no longer had the support of a beloved partner and parent.

Still, as a result, Matthews said that people seemed more at a loss on what to say to her compared to those bereaved at a later stage in their lives.

"They always came from a place of compassion, but some comments made me uncomfortable," the mom told Business Insider. "In many cases, I wished they'd said, 'I really don't know what to say,' rather than some platitude or trope."

The admission felt more honest, she said — a true reflection of their state of mind.

Matthews, a self-development coach, outlines five things that are best left unsaid when you're trying to console a young widow.

At least they're no longer in pain

Matthews said that making assumptions is a common mistake that comes across badly.

"Most people — beyond close friends and relatives — don't really know the details and circumstances of the person's death," she added. "They might jump to conclusions."

She takes some comfort from knowing her husband, Ross, who died of brain cancer in July 2017, didn't suffer toward the end of his life.

"Ross had been ill for three and a half years, and it was difficult after brain surgeries and treatment that impacted his health and his day-to-day," she said.

"But he'd have a seizure and then be all right within a few days. We'd just crack on and continue how we would normally, even going on vacation to Turks and Caicos three months before he died."

She said he "deteriorated" soon afterward and was admitted to a hospice. "Most of the time, he was just him, but then he began to mostly sleep," she said.

They're in a better place

The widow, who lives in the UK, advised people to keep religion out of the conversation — at least until they knew the other person's beliefs.

"These conversations are always clunky and messy and I'm not judging people who follow a faith," Matthews said. "But it's a wild assumption to think that I do and Ross did.

"I'm an atheist and don't believe he's gone to heaven. When someone says he's in a better place now, I think, 'Well, absolutely he is not in a better place. He should be here with me and the girls.'"

She said people had told her, "God needed another angel."

"It just makes me want to make jokes," Matthews went on. "Ross wasn't an angel, so they obviously didn't know him. It doesn't make me feel in any way comforted."

She said she felt relieved when people were direct. "It means something when they say, 'Oh Holly, it's so shit that you're going through this.'"

I've sent a sympathy card and flowers

Matthews said her house was crammed with wreaths and bouquets after Ross died.

"I understand the sentiment, but I didn't know what to do with the flowers and sympathy cards," she said.

"Instead, I'd rather somebody messaged me, acknowledged it, and said they'd dropped some money into Ross's hospice."

She said the gesture wasn't "wasteful," and she felt that "at least some good" was coming from her husband's death.

Matthews also said vague offers of help were hard to deal with. "People said, 'I'm here for you. How can I help?' but it's difficult to be specific when you're in a state of grief," she said.

The mom said practical offers were welcome, such as doing the food shopping, laundry, or gifting a voucher for takeout.

"It's a nice shift from flowers and cards," she added. "They don't help because they can't bring him back. But, if people say, 'I'm going to Uber Eats you some food,' it counts a lot more."

You're handling it so well — I don't know how I'd cope

Matthews said people who didn't know her well would comment on how well she was managing.

"But I was never saying that I was OK all of the time," she said. "I'd say, 'Sometimes I'm laughing, sometimes I'm crying my eyes out, and sometimes I'm angry.'"

She said she felt validated when people listened and tried to understand.

According to Matthews, one of the most inappropriate comments she received came from a woman who said, "I could never do what you do. My worst fear is that my husband might die of brain cancer."

"My thought was, 'OK, well, mine did, and if yours did, you would find a route. We're human beings and very resilient.'"

She said people asked if she only "kept going" because of her daughters. "They meant well, but I made it clear that I wouldn't have killed myself if the kids weren't there."

Isn't it time you started dating again?

Matthews recalled the time a neighbor asked in front of her children if she thought she'd marry again.

"It was a couple of months after Ross died," she said. "I hadn't even thought of having that conversation with the kids yet, and it was very uncomfortable for them and me."

She said she had "zero issue" with dating, but didn't like to be quizzed about it.

"Firstly, who says I'm not dating and secondly, mind your own business," she said. "It's mostly because I've got two daughters who absolutely do not want to think about their mom making out or whatever."

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