I can’t even remember all of the people who sat in my kitchen and listened to me cry in the first few weeks of Shawn’s diagnosis.  But I do remember them being there, and listening to me, and not usually knowing what to say, but staying nonetheless.  They validated my feelings that things were horrible, that it was unfair, and that everything was impossible.  “Of course you’re overwhelmed/frustrated/terribly sad” said everyone.  No one tried to cheer me up with ridiculous optimism, and almost everyone let me really express my emotions. This was a far cry from how people reacted when my mom died.  Granted, I was only 19, so most people…