Dear Friend,

Our conversation was the same as it’s been since we chatted as teenagers. We laughed about the events that happened in our lives since we last spoke. Funny how there could have been so much “crazy” in a 24-hour period. Now in our mid-30’s, we’ve traded in high school gossip for parenting advice, current events and politics.

The tone of the conversation shifted though I can’t recall the circumstances that led up to it. We started talking about my late-hubby and how you thought my writing was a great way to grieve and honor his memory.

Then you confessed to something that caught me completely off guard: you’d chosen to not post photos of your husband on social media in the months following the loss of my spouse. There were no anniversary posts, no images capturing fun date-nights.

At a time when so many widowed people feel overlooked by their friends – and even their family – I’m honored that you thought of me and wanted to shield me from what you assumed would be “triggers”. I appreciate that you made a conscious effort to put my feelings first. You dimmed your light so I wouldn’t be blinded by it.

I want you to know that you never have to hide your happiness, no matter how down in the dumps I may be feeling. I’m a lover of love. I’m a romantic at heart who roots for successful marriages and couples so in love that it makes others stop and take notes.

I have no beef with love. I spent nearly 10 years of my life in love with a man who would move mountains to make me happy. They say it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I believe that because if I had to fall in love so deeply and passionately with him all over again, knowing he’d be taken much too soon, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d love even more this time around.

Friend, your happiness captured in photos with your spouse doesn’t make me tailspin further into my grief. Though if I’m being honest, it does make me wish I had even one more day with my hubby. More importantly though, is that when I look at your pictures –  and those of the countless others my social media friends share – I hope you all realize the fragility of life. How you have to cherish each other because in an instant one of you could be gone. I want you to not sweat the small stuff and not have long, drawn out fights about trivial matters. I want to remind you to love hard but fight fair. Encourage you to make peace before either of you go to bed or walk out the door. An opportunity to revisit a disagreement isn’t always promised.

That, my friend, trumps any unhappiness I may ever feel about seeing your photos.

Mom to a feisty preschooler, Kerry Phillips became widowed at age 32. She runs an online support group for young widows and widowers venturing back into the world of dating and is a blogger for The Huffington Post.