Ok, I know there are a lot of differences (and I am oh so glad for that), but this is just one I have noted.  Not even recently, but about 34 years ago.  Some may find this insightful, others will go "ho-hum" and others will go "No way you stupid jerk!".  WHatever your reaction, that is fine.  As I am male, I may be wrong, so this is my disclaimer.  This is my perception.

I have been faced with several cathartic moments in my life.  Being 50, that is not surprising.  But I do know that the women in my life in those times wanted something else, something that I did not, could not, or would not share.

In each of those cathartic moments, yes very sad times as usually we are not brought to our knees during elation times, I wanted to internalize the pain.  I did not want to talk.  I did not want to share.  I did not want a shoulder to cry on.  I had to deal with my loss, our loss (in some cases) and in the british sense, keep a stiff upper lip to keep things going.  My fault, your fault, nobody's fault, it did not matter.  I was not trying to assign fault. I was simply trying to come to grips with a radical change in my life situation, and I had to do it myself.

Expressions of sympathy were fine.  As I did appreciate your understanding the loss.  But then expressions of "can we talk" were always met with a polite "perhaps later".  In other words, no, I dont.  But then I did not want to be rude, and I am me, and you are not, so I do not expect you to understand that.  So I internalized until I could rationalize and understand the loss.  My fault, your fault, nobody's fault.  It did not matter.  Fault was not an issue.

Having grown up with 4 sisters, a very strong mother, and then later 2 daughters (and a now ex wife), I noticed that my reaction was not that of the women.  For them, the cathartic event was time to talk.  To "bleed out the poison" so to speak.  To lance the wound.  Oh, they grieved.  Indeed as much or more.  But they needed to talk about it, to verbalize it. To evoke understanding in others.  And that is fine.  For if all humans were the same, we would be a very sad and dull lot!

So I will listen, but I really cannot talk.  I am internalizing it.  In time, I will come to a point were I accept it, and understand it.  In the beginning there may be blame, most notably on me for not doing more.  But eventually, I come to grips with it.  And life goes on.  Not with a hole, but with a piece missing from the event.  But the human body manages to heal over that and leave the reminder of the things that made it a cathartic event.  And we then think of those, not our lack of doing something to prevent or ameleriorate the event.

With the women in my life, they mourn it.  Then they have to talk about it.  Then they accept it and go on.  But the talking seems to be an important part of it.  It helps them heal.  I have come to understand it, and I let them do it. Since men are so obtuse as not to understand, they reach out to those who can.  Other women.  And the other women know.  So they are there for them.  As are we, just in a different capacity.  We care as much, and grieve as much.  Just not the same way.

This is not a revelation to most, it is heresy to some.  It is idiocy to others.  But as this is my blog, and my life experiences, this is just one mans opinion. Perhaps it will help some.  Perhaps not.

But life will go on for all of us. Just in different ways.