Jump to content
Forum Conduct & Guidelines Document ×

Want to share my experience.


Andy

Recommended Posts

  • Moderators

I got married four days before Christine had quadruple bypass surgery.  We had been dating and engaged for a long time, and decided that we should be married before she had the surgery in case anything went wrong.  She wanted me to be the one to make any decisions, and to take care of my stepdaughter if anything went wrong.

The surgery went very well, and after a few months of recovery she was back at work, and we were so happily married.  She was worried about her scars though.  She would wear sweaters, or high necked shirts to hide the scars.  She told me she felt they were ugly and that I didn't want to look at her with them, which was ridiculous.  To me she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I told her that, and told her I saw those scars as a badge of honor.  She survived what many couldn't, which in addition to her outer beauty spoke of an inner strength that I was so proud of.  I think that put her at peace with the scars.  She started wearing v-necks again and stopped hiding them at least.

These emotional scars we are all building are also a badge of honor.  While it is not visible, we are all marked.  We have survived.  We continue on, though we are all deeply wounded.  As Andy said, love is stronger than death.  I choose to wear this scar as a badge of honor in that struggle, just as she wore hers.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Replies 980
  • Created
  • Last Reply
  • Members
11 minutes ago, Herc said:

I got married four days before Christine had quadruple bypass surgery.  We had been dating and engaged for a long time, and decided that we should be married before she had the surgery in case anything went wrong.  She wanted me to be the one to make any decisions, and to take care of my stepdaughter if anything went wrong.

The surgery went very well, and after a few months of recovery she was back at work, and we were so happily married.  She was worried about her scars though.  She would wear sweaters, or high necked shirts to hide the scars.  She told me she felt they were ugly and that I didn't want to look at her with them, which was ridiculous.  To me she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I told her that, and told her I saw those scars as a badge of honor.  She survived what many couldn't, which in addition to her outer beauty spoke of an inner strength that I was so proud of.  I think that put her at peace with the scars.  She started wearing v-necks again and stopped hiding them at least.

These emotional scars we are all building are also a badge of honor.  While it is not visible, we are all marked.  We have survived.  We continue on, though we are all deeply wounded.  As Andy said, love is stronger than death.  I choose to wear this scar as a badge of honor in that struggle, just as she wore hers.

Amen

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members
On 2/17/2017 at 8:54 PM, fzald said:

I wish i could just curl up on my couch and hug and cuddle someone. I miss that with her so much. In my worst times I could just bury my face in her and she'd hold me. It made everything better. Now I have nobody to comfort me when I need it most...

This is one of the things I am feeling really often. When I would be sad, or cry, Kevin was the one who was there for me, would hold me.  It fixed things.  Now when things could not possibly be worse, he is gone.

The day before Valentine's Day I went to the cemetery.  There's no grass on his grave yet.  I drew a heart in the sand.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Today marks four months since I lost my wonderful husband. It's still so hard but I think that I am coping better with it all. I didn't get much sleep last night so I did a lot of praying and talking to Stan. I miss him so much and I'm just overpowered by the love I have for him. I agree that grief does change you. I know I am a different person because of it. I'm not sure after some time if I may change again but for now it is what it is. I accept what it is and I know persons around me don't understand as they have not been through what I am going through. I have made it somehow through four months and each moment has been trying. I feel lost most of the time but I'm here doing my best to survive. 

I have also dealt with a huge part of my dilemma that has been causing me a great deal of stress lately. It all worked out exactly how I know Stan would have wanted and I am pleased about this. There will always be battles though but I'll take them as they come as it's still one day at a time for me. 

I've begun reading a book called 'The Day Before- Eternal Bonds into the Afterlife' . Not sure if anyone here has came across it. It is about the signs we receive that over loved ones are with us. I must admit that I have been searching for signs that Stan is with me and haven't really felt I've had any definite ones. I have dreamt him a few times but other than that I haven't gotten any signs. This makes me sad. Why aren't there signs? Is he upset with me for some reason, am I not noticing them or is he not just there anymore?? I know some of you here have been fortunate to receive such signs, hope I can say the same one day. 

I have decided to get away this weekend with my very close friend. I feel I need a break from everything for a while. I wonder though if a getaway will make any sense as I will be taking my grief with me. It's the first time since Stan passed that I'm attempting to do anything like this. We always took weekend getaways together. I hope I can do this without him.

I know I would have never made it through these four months without all of you here on this forum which has become my lifeline. Just being here has helped me so much. Many thanks and much love and prayers to all! My dear friends.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Nads, My thoughts are with you today. Your four months, my sixth. Marking time seems so odd, doesn't it? I never *marked time* before. But then again, this is our journey and everything , everyday, is odd.

You made it through your *dilemma*. It worked out. Be proud of yourself and that accomplishment. Stan is proud of you also! Maybe working behind the scenes on your behalf. Now that, if you contemplate it, would be a huge sign from Stan. We are being watched over and protected. I don't know about the signs that we read about in books or from what others have said. Signs can be very subtle. They reveal themselves when you are not searching so hard. My husband was a *fixer*, a problem solver. The few obstacles I've run into had a way of working themselves out. I like to think my husband had a hand in that. Getting to be too many red squirrels out here by the bird feeder. My husband would eliminate them. They cause a lot of damage in buildings. Last summer, we had one in the walls of the house. I set up a live trap next to where he was coming in and out .Took a lot of time and patience, but he got trapped and re-homed. Yesterday, I set the live trap outside. Got a squirrel right away this morning. I'm putting the credit to my husband. It makes me feel better to think of it that way.

Enjoy your weekend getaway. We all need *grief* breaks. We shouldn't let it consume us, but yet it does. We have years ahead of us to learn to live with the absence of our beloveds. They want us to live this life for them.

Take care, Nads. We all pray for each other.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Something I'd like to share. I had this conversation with another member of this forum, privately, but this is something that pertains to me, so I'm not discussing any private matters.

Yesterday, for the first time since my wife passed, I had dinner with friends. My best friend, his wife, and my daughter. My best friend lost his father the same month my Tracie passed away, his wife lost her father almost exactly two years ago. So we talked about this, about how it effects us, how things have changed, and inevitably, I cried along with my daughter and both of our dear friends. It was a little while later, alone, I reflected on the emotions I experienced while the tears were flowing. I had an amazing realization. The vast majority of my tears were obviously driven by grief and sorrow, but, a very small amount was somewhat different. There was a bit of "happiness" in there. What I realized was that during our talk, I was proud of our marriage, I had been hit with absolute LOVE, and that moved me to tears. Our devotion to one another and the lifelong commitment has always been a source of pride for me. I have and will consider it the greatest accomplishment of my humble life. I am proud my wife loved me, married me, raised a family with me, faced every hardship and heartbreak with one another, and as I talked about that, I was crying from JOY. 

I am under no illusion that I've walked out of the woods. Not by a long shot, but this has given me hope, hope that perhaps, gradually, this sorrow will begin to change into a beautiful longing, a sweet pull of my heart as I move through time. What I wish is that as I move through this horrible process, I transition from the despair of loss into a sincere celebration of our life together, an acknowledgment of what a beautiful life we had, the love we will ALWAYS have for one another. Love is stronger than death, so my love must be stronger than my sorrow. 

I hope, for all of you suffering along with me, this gives you a glimmer of light, even fleetingly, to open up to the possibility that all is not lost. It's never going to be what we want, never, but as we look for ways to live, maybe this kind of "shift" in our consciousness and understanding will help us get to a more peaceful state of acceptance. I pray it does. 

Bless each and everyone of you here, and those who are not among us, distance nor death can take away our bonds. 

Love to all,

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

KMB, thanks for your support. Maybe you are right. I might be looking to hard for signs and they have have been around all along. I think I was looking for something concr

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Andy, Your expressions are inspiring. I feel that is what it all comes down to. The opportunity we were given to find our soulmate, love them, receive their love and experience togetherness for whatever given amount of time. We were/are proud of our accomplishments of love and commitment. Not too many people are given that chance/experience that we were given. A lot of people will go through this life never knowing true, unconditional love, in all its glory and tragedy of loss.

My husband suffered for many years with his health conditions. He had courage and persevered through some scary times. I was right there with him, my heart breaking, but he had the physical aspects to endure, while I had the emotional aspects. The last 6 years were his toughest. I remember one weekend where he wanted to give up. His body and mind were tired. He left the house by himself one day. I was scared, filled with anxiety. Walked around outside wondering where he was, waiting for his return, not knowing if he would.I called his cell, didn't have it turned on. Finally, after a couple hours, he returned. Neither of us said anything. I just told him how happy I was that he came home. A couple weeks later, his body, his heart, did give out.  I have to keep going for him, even though I feel like giving up. Our love will have its own reward when it is my time to go.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Sorry my post was incomplete. Sent it in error.  

Was saying that I probably was looking for some more concrete signs so that's why I probably haven't been noticing the subtle ones. Glad you're handling all those squirrels. I'm sure your beloved is truly helping you along. 

I do need a grief break. Hope this weekend does that for me. I'm having a not so bad day. I'm trying to keep myself busy. Catching up on some housework to keep myself occupied. Sundays are just hard as it is. 

Stength, love and prayers 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

HI Nads, I don't know about signs. Remember the actor, Michael Landon? Before he passed, he told his daughter he would leave a red rose for her to find. One day, as she was walking down a flight of steps, there was a red rose laying at the bottom. Stories like that stay in your mind and it is what you kind of look for. Something obvious.

My kitchen light has blinked when I am thinking of my husband or talking about him with company. A few months ago, I was sitting here at the computer and the printer came on.

Earlier in the winter, a friend stopped over and borrowed a can of spray lube for his trailer tires. I brought him the can and the cover was attached. When I was given the can back, we couldn't find the cover. Figured it got lost in all the snow. A few days later, I saw that can cover laying in a corner of the porch. How did it get there?

I used to tease my husband about being an instigator. He loved pushing my buttons to get a rise out me. Maybe just because I am usually so laid back. Maybe all these red squirrels that are suddenly invading the feeders is his way of still being an instigator. I'm up for the challenge. He was an outdoors person, loved nature.

Nads, Stan is with you. He always will be. Trust and have faith.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
On 2/18/2017 at 6:52 AM, Andy said:

I hope that one day that some lines will open up, some sort of healing can bring a better relationship for the both of you.

It's not me, it's her...she is that way with both sides of her family, no one knows why and she pretends everything is fine.  She had a breakdown years ago and hasn't been the same since.  I don't think it's anything to do with any of us, we've all continued reaching out and we love her, I have to accept what is but I miss her.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
15 hours ago, Herc said:

To me she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I told her that, and told her I saw those scars as a badge of honor.  She survived what many couldn't, which in addition to her outer beauty spoke of an inner strength that I was so proud of.

That's how my George would have responded too.  he loved everything about me, even old age spots and vericose veins in my hands.  The things I thought were bad were just something more he treasured about me.  Such is love...

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
2 hours ago, Andy said:

hope that perhaps, gradually, this sorrow will begin to change into a beautiful longing, a sweet pull of my heart as I move through time.

I've no doubt of that, Andy.  (((hugs)))

Nats, I hope you have a good weekend away with your friend.  Sometimes we have to push our comfort zone to make headway in our journey, so you can think of it like that, but I hope you have moments of enjoyment too, and not only grief.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
6 minutes ago, KayC said:

It's not me, it's her...she is that way with both sides of her family, no one knows why and she pretends everything is fine.  She had a breakdown years ago and hasn't been the same since.  I don't think it's anything to do with any of us, we've all continued reaching out and we love her, I have to accept what is but I miss her.

Time changes all things.  Acceptance is critical to allowing us to cope with difficult situations, as we are all learning too well through this process.  In time things may change with your daughter though.

After my Grandfathers death, I was on a very dark path.  I did horrible damage to my relationship with my mother.  I never really cut ties, but to say I was distant would be a huge understatement.  Eventually I got through it and we have since built a beautiful relationship.  She is now one of the pillars supporting me through this difficult time.

My stepdaughter is fighting her way through the loss of her mother.  She is using avoidance as her primary coping method.  I haven't seen her since Friday, which worries me terribly.  I know loss such as we have been through can spark abandonment concerns, however I have tried to look beyond the feelings, and from a rational  and logical viewpoint (well as close as I can get right now), I think there are real concerns that she could cut me out of her life completely.  The pain of that loss would be as devastating as the one I am already suffering.

All I can do is hope things work out well, and do the little things to work toward that.  Be there for her when she will stop long enough to talk.  Let her know I love her when I can.  I hope it is enough, and I hope your daughter heals enough to let you help her, and to help you in return.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Herc, I understand your concerns with your stepdaughter. Just keep letting her know you are there for her. My stepdaughter cut ties a week after the loss of her father. Not just with me, but her brother also. Her father was her go- to person. He had a big presence in all our lives. Full of wisdom and life experiences. I used to call him Mr. Wise and Wonderful. I know she feels abandoned by her father, maybe a lot of denial for her. Hell, I feel abandoned also. He was in the military, leave no one behind. But I know he didn't leave on purpose. His body won the battle. I witnessed him struggling for months to stay here.

We all have to trust and hope things will work out for the best and how they are meant to.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Herc, as KMB said, just be there for your stepdaughter as long as she wants you to be. My stepdaughter cut ties with me two weeks after her father passed. We have had little or no contact since. I have accepted this nor am I hurt by it. Just look after yourself as well. 

Prayers to you 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

To everyone here, I'd like to share something else. I've mentioned that I've had "signs", but I wasn't ready to detail some of those experiences. I think since some of you have questions about signs, how they may happen or if they even happen at all, so I've decided to share one such episode. 

For Christmas, I'd bought my wife a new necklace. It was something I rarely did, buy jewelry was something that she didn't really show much interest in it, but I decided to surprise her. The necklace she HAD been wearing was a simple, "Open Heart" pendant necklace. Christmas morning she put the new necklace on, along with her older one. My daughter and I asked her to take the old one off, but she wanted both on. Now, at this point, she had 5 days, 2 hours and 42 minutes to live. Looking back at photos, I saw that Open Heart necklace on her for the last 2-3 years. She loved it. Well, the day she was taken to the hospital, I took her rings off her fingers, and when she going to the OR, they brought me her earrings and necklace. Just one. But at the time, I wasn't really thinking about jewelry. After I came home at about 5 am the morning she passed away, I remembered that necklace. I started looking. I could not find it, it became a very unhealthy obsession. I looked 3 times in each car, I turned our house inside out. I searched my parents home and their vehicles. I looked in places that logically I knew it couldn't be. The worst thing I had to do was search our garbage and the bathroom trash can she had thrown up into as the sepsis was progressing. I cried as I searched. Between my daughter and I, we looked in my wife's jewelry box 8-10 times, taking every piece out, placing them on the floor to make certain we didn't miss anything. I couldn't walk by it without opening the doors. I had one place left to search, our vacuum cleaner. I was intentionally avoiding that. As long as I didn't search it, it could possibly be there. Two states of reality could exist at the same time. If I looked, and it wasn't there, I had to assume it had been lost at the hospital or it had been accidentally been thrown away. It was killing me. The Thursday of the week I went back to work, a week after she was buried, I had to leave work early. It was, without doubt, the most horrific day since my wife passed. I left work after only three hours. I called my daughter, but she was with a family friend helping out at an elementary school. I needed her so bad, I was crashing bad. I got home, wanted to talk with my mom, but she had an appointment that she had to attend to. I was in a dark, dark place, I mean BAD. I decided then to search the vacuum. I took it outside and proceeded to take it apart. The necklace wasn't there. I was destroyed. I was on my knees, BEGGING God for help, begging my wife to help. I was emotionally drained and at my lowest. My daughter and I had some difficult communications earlier, I felt abandoned by her. I crawled into bed, I was giving up. About an hour later, my daughter came home, she had stopped off and bought me a rose with an attached card of apology. I apologized to her and we hugged and I just couldn't stop crying. As my daughter drove up though, a FedEx truck pulled up, handing her a tiny box. She brought it to me but I told her it was hers. The day after my wife's passing, I ordered my daughter a pendant with my wife's thumb print etched onto one side. She was ecstatic. She asked if I had a necklace, I told her to get one of her moms out of the jewelry box. She looked, couldn't find anything that would work for her. All through this, I'm still in the bed, my face basically buried in my pillow, still praying for help, still asking for my wife's help. My daughter sat back on the bed, hugged me, tried to help me. She got up, asked if I could get her a necklace, but she was going to look again. She sat down by the jewelry box, opened one of the side doors and what I heard next was almost too much for my mind to handle. "Oh my God!" And then, in an almost quite whisper, "Thank you momma." I refused to look, I wouldn't lift my head, I knew that what I was about to see was simply NOT possible. "Look dad!" I looked. There was my daughter, holding the long missing necklace. A FLOOD of tears and emotion swept through me, it was spiritual in its strength. I sat up and she handed me the necklace. I had told her if we found it, it was hers. I held this piece of "impossibility" in my hand, she said "Dad, I have this pendant, this necklace is yours, mom brought this to you"

We searched that box 8-10 time, my daughter had JUST looked in there. On my worst day, when I had begged for help, from God and my wife, the thing I'd been searching so desperately for, I needed desperately for "something" to happen. How was this necklace missed? How in Gods name was that even possible? Could we both have missed it? As we laid out every ring, bracelet, watch, and necklace? I guess it's "possible", but I don't think so. Whether it was there all along or was never there, it was at THAT moment when I needed it more than any other time. At the effect was instant. I felt such comfort, reassurance and love at that moment, my grief melted away. I was instantly aware that my wife was "ok", that everything was in order. It was so unbelievable. 

That necklace hangs in the car that I'd bought the month she died, our date car. 

Whatever you may choose to believe, I accept this as a "sign", an affirmation of my faith, belief and the undeniable truth of this reality as I had hoped it to be. I don't hunt for them, but I believe signs are everywhere, some are for us directly, some are for others, but they're there. So, take it as you will, it was a deeply personal experience, and I hope it brings all or some of you some comfort or at least a measure of hope. 

Thanks for "listening", love to all,

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members
10 hours ago, Andy said:

I hope, for all of you suffering along with me, this gives you a glimmer of light, even fleetingly, to open up to the possibility that all is not lost. It's never going to be what we want, never, but as we look for ways to live, maybe this kind of "shift" in our consciousness and understanding will help us get to a more peaceful state of acceptance. I pray it does. 

Thank you for this Andy.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Andy,  The pain and anguish, the hope and joy. Thank you for sharing. You were given a gift of a profound sign. When you needed it the most.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators

Andy,

Thank you for sharing your story with us, I would totally take that as a sign, she IS looking after you!  

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Andy, most definitely you got confirmation that she is there with you and your daughter. May you always treasure that. I hope as time goes by she continues to show both of you that she is watching over you especially in the times that you need it the most. 

Peace, love and strength to you my friend. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

KayC, KMB...thanks for your support. I have been struggling for the past few days, I was feeling as if I was drowning but today I felt that I was able to breathe again. I'm so grateful for some relief from that grief wave I've been on. I'm just so exhausted in every way. Haven't slept in two nights so hoping to get some rest tonight. 

God bless us all here. May we continue to take strength from one another and continue to give it. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Nads, KayC, KMB, Stonesie, everyone, 

Thank you. You and what you say mean so much. Unfortunately, you all know what this is like. I wish it was otherwise. It's ironic, but my wife would love all you. I'm sure she's so moved by each and everyone of you, how you reach out, how you're willing to talk about your own losses, and how much you have helped me. I thank you and I know, from the bottom of her heart, my dear Tracie thanks you. 

Bless you, all of you, my love and prayers

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators

Nads, I hope you slept well last night, I hate it when I don't sleep!
Andy, George was very articulate and a people person...I've often thought, if the situation was reversed, HE would be on here with all of you, and you'd love him.  Sounds like your wife is the same! :)

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members
3 hours ago, KayC said:

Nads, I hope you slept well last night, I hate it when I don't sleep!
Andy, George was very articulate and a people person...I've often thought, if the situation was reversed, HE would be on here with all of you, and you'd love him.  Sounds like your wife is the same! :)

Thank you, that's sweet of you to say. I'm sure I'd be as fond of him as I am of you, no doubt. My wife was quiet and reserved, but I know she would have loved all of you. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Today has been a strange, miserable day. My hour long commute provides my with time to think. Too much time maybe. I spent so many years watching after and caring for my wife, I'm getting to where I have this "need" to still take care of her. It's a thought, a compulsion almost, this need to still be doing my job. I keep hitting this wall where I can't get past her last moments without me. I constantly wonder about her being afraid, its breaking what's left of my heart. I'm in agony, replaying over and over again our last minutes together, telling one another "I love you", then her being taken out and into the OR. I know it was probably only a matter of minutes before she went under, but it's ripping me up thinking that she was frightened. I was always there to keep her calm, to rest her fears, assure her that things were ok, but I didn't get to do that. I have prayed that she didn't feel fear, I pray that she wasn't worried about my daughter and I. She spent a great deal of the last decade worrying, it was a true, clinical diagnosis of obsessive compulsive disorder, she was troubled by many things, but I could ease her mind. I want to take care of her, take her to the dr, take her shopping, take her to eat, take her to our upcoming anniversary. 

I leave my empty home and come back to my empty home. I don't have any idea today. 

"I can't write a love song, the way I feel today

I can't sing no song of hope, there's no one left to save"

Part of a song, it sums up my overall state today. Maybe tomorrow will be different. 

Here's to the lonely, 

Andy

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators

It's common for those who have been caregivers to feel a loss of purpose and identity when their loved one dies, I know I felt like that when my MIL (who was also my best friend) died following being bedridden with cancer for three years...I was her caregiver.  

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators

Andy,

I am so sorry.  I had many moments with Christine in pre-op unfortunately.  Between the rejection episodes and kidney biopsies, the quadruple bypass, the second kidney transplant, and multiple attempts to save her toes before a final amputation, I probably went through that watching them take her away moment 8 or 9 times, It is so many I can't specifically come up with a number even though I am thinking about it hard.  She always forgot to take her rings off until just before the surgery.  I think she may have done it on purpose.  She made a big show of it every time.  When they did the bypass, her fingers were swollen badly, and she couldn't get the ring off.  As they were taking her away, she looked me dead in the eye, and told me "Don't let them cut off my rings".  Like I could charge into the operating theater with a sword and put a stop to it if they had,  After she came to, almost a week later, I was with her in the hospital room.  The rings were still on her finger, for my sake fortunately, they hadn't had to cut them off.  I asked her why she always left the rings on when she knew she had surgery scheduled.  She told me it was because they reminded her of me, and the thought of me was what she needed most every time they took her into the operating room.  You say that you didn't get to reassure her.  I can tell you from experience that you did, you just don't know it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

KayC, you're right, loss of purpose and identity is, I think, the issue I'm struggling with. On top of everything else. So much chaos and pain. 

Herc, thank you. I sincerely hope I brought her at least some small measure of comfort, knowing that as I had always been, I was there, waiting for her. I'm just waiting a little longer this time. 

Peace to you both,

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
12 hours ago, Herc said:

You say that you didn't get to reassure her.  I can tell you from experience that you did, you just don't know it.

So true.  Herc, you're very insightful.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

KayC---The caregiver role has been a hard part of this grieving. Besides being a wife, care giving was added. Another purpose, another identity. I am no longer needed for either role now and it hurts big time. The love bond grew even tighter, if that was possible, during those years. This waiting out the rest of my life, trying to find activities to fill the void my husband left behind, is lonely and a hardship. The eventual reunion is all I have to look forward to. No more pain, loneliness, separation.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members
4 hours ago, KMB said:

KayC---The caregiver role has been a hard part of this grieving. Besides being a wife, care giving was added. Another purpose, another identity. I am no longer needed for either role now and it hurts big time. The love bond grew even tighter, if that was possible, during those years. This waiting out the rest of my life, trying to find activities to fill the void my husband left behind, is lonely and a hardship. The eventual reunion is all I have to look forward to. No more pain, loneliness, separation.

KMB, that's a huge factor, the role of caregiver along with being a spouse and a co-parent, it adds a dimension that's hard to cope with. Whether we realize it or not, our identities become tied to that role, it's a responsibility that requires not only time and energy, but a "shift" in the relationship itself. For me, it was an understanding that things were different, my role had become something a bit more complicated. There were aspects of our marriage that changed, and I mourned those changes. I wholeheartedly accepted this though, it was part of a life that I was honored to partake in, but the circumstances weren't the best. My wife was ill, and there was nothing good about that. However, if anything, the depth of our love and understanding for one another grew, our marriage became something more meaningful, at least as far as we were concerned. Not ideal to be sure, but the trust she put into me, the conviction I had in her, was absolute. She was my bedrock, the foundation of my world, and I became the "ward" of that world, protecting her, caring for her, tending to her needs, and that doesn't just "go away". Along with the care comes an emotional investment separate from the established feelings of a marriage, it was just as strong, but it has a "draining" quality to it. It's tough seeing someone you love so much, someone that was so full of life, lose parts of themselves, to diminish. Now, my wife didn't suffer cancer or a "terminal" illness, but her condition was cruel and insidious. It's a conflicted state, I hated what was happening to her, but I loved being there for her, I despised the toll the illnesses were taking on her, but I always held out hope she'd get better. Now, all of it's gone, but I'm still "conditioned" for this, it's part of who I am, and I still feel I need to be taking care of my wife. I want to take care of Tracie, but I can't. Putting flowers on her grave or cleaning our home just isn't the same. 

KMB, it IS oh so lonely. Our path, that worn and trusted trail has been taken away, and now we're just lost in this strange wilderness. Lost and we can't go back "home". 

Love and comfort, 

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Andy, I understand your path and mine, so many similarities. Aspects of our marriage that changed----our intimate life. We did not talk about it much, it was painful and we both mourned that loss. We adapted, due to our relationship being so much more than the physical. Adventures, traveling. My husband was developing physical limitations with walking, his vision was impaired. He wanted to stay close to home. The absolute trust he had in me, the dependency. With all of his surgeries, infections, the medical staff would want to place him in rehab. He refused. Only wanted me to care for him. I was so touched and honored by his complete faith, trust and love in me. For me, it went back to my unconditional love and the marriage vows, *in sickness and in health*. Like you, i became the *ward* of our world. I took on the rest of our life, responsibilities. My husband would tease and refer to me as the *boss* when talking to others. His loving look and the tone of his voice said the word wasn't meant as per the usual definition. He was proud and appreciative of my care. Like you, I'm still *conditioned* to what used to be my life. It has been the utmost horrendous trial to let that life go. I also am still protective of my husband, his legacy, his belongings. They give me a sense of still being needed. They still give me a sense of purpose and an identity. Maybe a somewhat misguided sense of identity, for now. But without hanging onto what I can, than that would leave me basically in no man's land. I know that time, the natural evolution of this grieving will change into a different purpose and identity. I'm in no rush. Patience and self care and time is all we need.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

KMB, I think you've touched on something I myself hadn't quite realized, but tending to his belongings and his legacy, that's very insightful. I think that's exactly what I'm doing, she's physically "gone", but her possessions are still here, her memory and her impact still resonate. I think it's my obligation and what's more, my honor to keep looking after those things. As you say, time will change and modify how we view those things, especially the possessions. The legacy, that will never change.

I just got through having a cry. I was sitting, looking at the tv, and my wife's little dog wanted to play. I started playing with Levi, and I looked over at the couch where my wife would lay while watching tv. I was looking that direction out of habit, she would look and laugh at her little dog, and it just hit me. I'm surrounded by "her", she's everywhere, her dog, her clothes, jewelry, tooth brush, her shampoo still sits on the edge of our bathtub where she left it. Her razor. Her perfume. I feel half way decent most of the day only to fall apart in the evening. This is the REAL me, the broken, collapsed person I am now, looking after my wife's belongings, surrounded by memories of a better time. A great deal of my hope died when she did, and I'm afraid what that means for me. I've always maintained that possibilities are crucial for life, for within them lies hope, the promise of something better. The possibilities that I'd been counting on are gone. I miss her so much, it hurts so bad, I miss my wife so so so much, I want her back beside me. 

Love keep you,

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

I feel the same, Andy. My husband's belongings are exactly as he left them. I have only removed all his medications. They reminded me so cruelly the medical conditions that took him away from me. His favorite foods are still in the freezer and pantry. I'm not much of a soda drinker but his soda is still in the fridge and in the porch.I know he is not coming back. But I still need the reminders that he did exist. Mornings are total crap for me. Mood swings throughout the day. Late afternoon into the night are absolute hell. I'm glad no one sees me at night. I'm a basket case.

I had so much hope when my husband was here. Medical advances and treatments are coming to fruition all the time. I kept hoping something would be offered for my husband.

HUGS to you.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

KMB,

I envy that you have so many physical memories of your beloved. I sadly have few physical memories to keep me company. I have a few small possessions of hers but sadly nothing that I could say was extremely significant in her final days of life. Since she was with her family, they simply kept all of those items and I have no idea what will become of them. Since her family also chooses to deny our relationship and my significance in her life I was given no opportunity at all to make any decisions or even suggestions. Things I know for a fact that she would have wanted me to have are either with her family or even worse at a thrift store or on eBay...

I have a lifetime of memories, only 6 years but still a life lived with her. I will carry those memories within my heart until the day I die, until the day I get to join her again. I wish I had more than the meager set of items I do have. But I guess it's something. I put the few items I have in a storage bin, labeled with her name, and I also added some items of mine that are particular reminders of her. Things of mine that she admired, or that she wanted so much that I got her the same thing as a present just because.

I even had her Valentines gift ready, something special for us. That had to go in the box as well, still too fresh for me to face it.

I hope that someday I will be able to go through those few items and smile, remembering her and especially her way of always making me and everyone else smile. 

My sorrow and missing her is still constant, a background noise i can't shut out, an itch I can't scratch. I went out and did some grocery shopping today, and a few times I had to stop and just sigh and breathe, seeing her favorite foods, seeing things she would often ask me to pick up for her on my way to her place. I was always so happy to do her those little favors, I just loved her so much I would have done anything within my power for her. 

I have been rolling the idea around of writing our story. It would be a way to solidify her memory in print, and maybe, just maybe, our story can become immortal, even when I do get to pass on and see her again, our story will remain behind, hopefully for others to enjoy and smile over, hopefully a way for her to keep making people smile forever after.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

It's been a while since I've been able to post but i have been reading all of the posts being made. I am on my weekend getaway and I'm having a really hard time at it. I didn't think traveling without him would be so hard. I'm trying not to be a party pooper for my friend who is here with me but it's quite difficult to do so. Stan and I traveled so much so everything I experience here is making me think about what he would say or how he would have reacted to something. Even though I am at a place we had never been together I still miss him all the same. It's quite lovely here. I'm sitting here supposed to be enjoying the warm ocean breeze but there is no joy here for me. I just want to go home but I cannot ruin this for my dear friend. She has been so very supportive through everything. I will try my best to make the most of it. 

Prayers to all. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
3 hours ago, Nads said:

It's been a while since I've been able to post but i have been reading all of the posts being made. I am on my weekend getaway and I'm having a really hard time at it. I didn't think traveling without him would be so hard. I'm trying not to be a party pooper for my friend who is here with me but it's quite difficult to do so. Stan and I traveled so much so everything I experience here is making me think about what he would say or how he would have reacted to something. Even though I am at a place we had never been together I still miss him all the same. It's quite lovely here. I'm sitting here supposed to be enjoying the warm ocean breeze but there is no joy here for me. I just want to go home but I cannot ruin this for my dear friend. She has been so very supportive through everything. I will try my best to make the most of it. 

Prayers to all. 

Nads,

I get that thinking about what they would say, or how they would react.  I have long periods where anything familiar reminds me of her, and anything new reminds me how much I want to share it with her.  Forget about being a party pooper, or "ruining" it for your friend.  Cry when you need to.  Being as supportive as she is, I am sure she will understand.  I don't know if she knew Stan, but if she did, she might need to cry too.

I had a unique living situation with Christine.  We had two condos in the same unit, that is how we met.  Through our relationship we kept them both.  It was nice having a whole apartment for my man cave.

I also have a roommate, a dear friend who has helped me greatly through this.  Christine used to jokingly call him her "other" husband.  He has been deeply affected by her loss as well.  We all went on vacations together, talked, watched movies. We have had more than a few nights where we have cried together.  Two grown men blubbering about their pain, what a sight we must be.  I doubt your friend was as close to Stan as mine and Christine, but remember friends grieve too.  And even if she is not grieving, she will understand where you are emotionally.  I hope you find some comfort in the beauty, that warm ocean breeze might just be Stan waiting to dry your tears.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Nads, 

You've actually put into words something that I'm having some fear about myself. My daughters birthday is coming up, and I'm petrified. I'm leaving it up to her how she wants to approach this, stay home, keep it low key, or go on a little two day trip, or spend it with her friends. If she decides that she'd like just us two to go somewhere, I'm afraid of the accompanying anxiety. I've never gone anywhere without my wife, and all of my daughters birthdays were spent together. I completely understand why you feel the way you do. Going somewhere familiar will elicit memories, going somewhere new will generate a need to "share" it with my wife. I'm sure, as Herc mentioned, your friend will understand your melancholy, she probably doesn't expect this to me a miracle trip, all your grief blowing away in the ocean breeze, but maybe a reminder that you are still here, you still have the capacity to enjoy life, and that it's ok. Stan will be with you wherever you go, your joy will be his, experiences still shared. It isn't the same, I know, God how I know, but his energy is boundless now, as is your love for one another. So if you feel a tiny smile, let yourself smile, you know Stan will be. 

Love and hugs, 

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members
12 hours ago, KMB said:

I feel the same, Andy. My husband's belongings are exactly as he left them. I have only removed all his medications. They reminded me so cruelly the medical conditions that took him away from me. His favorite foods are still in the freezer and pantry. I'm not much of a soda drinker but his soda is still in the fridge and in the porch.I know he is not coming back. But I still need the reminders that he did exist. Mornings are total crap for me. Mood swings throughout the day. Late afternoon into the night are absolute hell. I'm glad no one sees me at night. I'm a basket case.

I had so much hope when my husband was here. Medical advances and treatments are coming to fruition all the time. I kept hoping something would be offered for my husband.

HUGS to you.

I did the same thing, the meds had to be put away. I had just filled her weekly pill box, the only slot empty was Friday morning, she never had the chance to take Friday nights and 2:42 am Saturday she was gone. I'm slowly placing her personal items, important documents and things that were significant to us in small, decorative boxes. I don't want those things to get lost or forgotten about over time. 

I have a stack of VCR tapes that contain a few old home videos and our wedding. I have yet to bring myself to look at them. I'm so scared at sitting and watching. I'm not ready. To see even a moment of her "alive" and talking or smiling, I know I'm not ready to handle that. 

Yes, night is HELL. Days are manageable, I can find distractions, things that need to be done, but night rolls around and the grief is palpable in its effect. It's almost like it waits, biding it's time, waiting until we're at our most vulnerable. It knows what it's doing, no doubt, because it gets me every time. I guess I need to think of ways to circumvent its "attacks". 

KMB, hang in there, love and a really big hug,

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Andy,

I find that grief attacks mostly in the morning for me. At night when I get into bed, I can almost find a calm. I can lay there and just feel either nothing, or even sometimes feel a little happy with my memories of her. But in the mornings, I am in pure agony again. It's almost like when I am sleeping all my grief comes out to play and waits for me to wake up. Every morning is just another reminder that she is gone from the world, that the person who defined so much of me, who helped make me what I am today, is simply gone. And she was here only a month ago... 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
13 hours ago, fzald said:

I have been rolling the idea around of writing our story.

I hope that you do.  It might be hard to do so early in grief, if you have the "brain fog" I did, but you might write down some of your thoughts, you can always go back and do a rewrite later on.  It'd be therapeutic for you as well as helpful to others that read it.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
23 hours ago, KMB said:

The caregiver role has been a hard part of this grieving. Besides being a wife, care giving was added. Another purpose, another identity. I am no longer needed for either role now and it hurts big time. The love bond grew even tighter, if that was possible, during those years.

I wasn't caregiver for my husband but I was for my MIL, my best friend (long before I met George) and I relate to what you say here.  It is true, it's a special time and the bond is tight.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
1 hour ago, Andy said:

My daughters birthday is coming up, and I'm petrified. I'm leaving it up to her how she wants to approach this, stay home, keep it low key, or go on a little two day trip, or spend it with her friends. If she decides that she'd like just us two to go somewhere, I'm afraid of the accompanying anxiety. I've never gone anywhere without my wife, and all of my daughters birthdays were spent together.

You might talk with her about this, so she can know how you're feeling.  Maybe start small, a dinner out or something.  It's always hard breaking out of our comfort zone, no matter when it is we cross it, I think it helps us, but only you can know if you're ready for that or not.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Moderators
1 hour ago, Andy said:

I have a stack of VCR tapes that contain a few old home videos and our wedding. I have yet to bring myself to look at them. I'm so scared at sitting and watching. I'm not ready. To see even a moment of her "alive" and talking or smiling, I know I'm not ready to handle that. 

You know, Andy, this brings to mind that we may actually have a VCR tape of us on Christmas years ago...I'm wondering if George is in it, will have to give some thought to looking for it and viewing it.  I don't know how I'd feel watching it, just how painful it might be...

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members
7 hours ago, KayC said:

You know, Andy, this brings to mind that we may actually have a VCR tape of us on Christmas years ago...I'm wondering if George is in it, will have to give some thought to looking for it and viewing it.  I don't know how I'd feel watching it, just how painful it might be...

That's what's keeping me from watching ours. I even have an old High 8 camera with a couple of home videos with our adopted daughter, and maybe a short clip on a GoPro memory card with my wife. It's something I really don't think I'm prepared for. I still half way expect my wife to come home, seeing her on film or video would, at this point, be too much for my system. I want to see and hear her, her smile, her VOICE, but I don't believe I can handle that right now. 

I plan on talking with my daughter soon about her birthday. I don't look forward to any of it, the conversation, the actual day. I don't even know what that's supposed to be, a birthday without her mom? Without my wife, who was always so excited about our little girl getting a year older, excited with a tinge of sadness. Nobody wants their babies to grow up, not too much anyway. I can't imagine the emotions this will bring up for us, and I'm already hurting for my daughter. This is all so tragic, so many things you can never know about until it happens. 

Thank you KayC, love and hugs,

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

I have a lot of videos and such of my girlfriend. Andy, I know how you feel. A few times I've come across a video or photo without meaning to, scrolling through my phone for example, and I feel a jolt of emotion whenever it happens. Watching videos or even hearing her voice is a painful reminder that she was so real, and that she was just here a month ago. I'm not sure if avoiding looking at these is better or worse... 

When my girl was in the hospital, but stil alive, I went back to some photos and videos of our relationship early on. It was just part of my wishing that she would come back to me. That ewek, I had promised myself over and over and over that I would do anything, everything for her, no matter what the cost to me, because she deserved it. I looked at old video of us just because it was another reminder of why I was so in love with her.

Now, watching video would remind me of that again, which in this case would probably only depress me.

Some do say though that we need to do these things to grieve. I'm not sure, but I don't think I'm ready yet to go through those things. Maybe someday I will be able to, but not now. I have even put aay all the physical photos I have of her in our "memory box" for now.

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Back in 1998, my husband was selected to represent the logging industry for Wisconsin's Sesquicenntenial. We went to D.C. in July that year, just less than 2 months after our wedding. He was asked to provide demonstrations of a tree delimber. The event was held at the National Mall. It was exciting and made for an awesome honeymoon trip. I took many pictures but never had the time to see about purchasing a video that was made of the event. After my husband passed, I scoured the internet and found the filming company. Their website was selling DVD's of that event. I purchased the DVD, but have been unable to watch it. I know my husband is on it because i remember the filming crew and I took a photo of him being interviewed. A repeat of the event was held in Madison in August. We went down in my husband's logging truck with a full load of wood for demos there on the edge of Lake Mendota.  I am so scared of what my reaction would be seeing and hearing my husband. I want to see and hear him, but I don't think I am ready.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

Fzald, even though you aren't ready to watch the videos of her, it's great that you do have them. You will, I believe, come to a place where you'll feel the desire to watch them. Unfortunately, probably because of my "generation", I never thought to use my phone for taking a video. Photos, yes, but I never considered video, only when my daughter would say "dad, video me doing _____". I wish I had taken hours and hours of my wife, by herself, with me, my daughter, even her little dog. I consider it a terrible oversight on my part. A regret. 

KMB, wow, that sounds like that was quite an event, pretty amazing memories there, honeymoon and all. I thinks it's also pretty amazing you were able to chase down that DVD, incredible. I understand your reluctance to watch. I think, like me, and Fzald, it's simply too soon. Our memories are still very, very current. I still "hear" her voice, her laugh, see her smile. To see a video of her now would only serve to blur that line between reality and "denial", at least that's how I think it would be for me. Perhaps, after I've learned better to cope with all the other things, I can move on to this. Maybe you can too, I hope we all can. 

Comfort my friends,

Andy

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • Members

My daughter just had a moment of profound grief. She called me, crying, in complete misery, telling me how much she needed "mommy", how she needs to hold her hand, and how much she wished she'd never argued with her. It broke my broken heart. She asked why God took her mom away, she asked how could her mom be gone while so many bad people still get to live. "It's not fair!", she declared. 

As her dad, it's one of my "jobs" to make my little girls world okay. She may be 20, but as many of you know, she'll always be our little girl. My heart is shattered, its broken and beaten. My daughter needs me to make things right and I can't. This is proving to be so extraordinarily difficult for me to navigate. I told her that I don't know why mom was "taken", and no, it's not fair. I told her that I also miss her, that I'd give anything for her to put her head on my shoulder. I told her not to carry the guilt of arguing with her mom. Moms and daughters argue, and that her mom never had to forgive you, because she never held anything against you. That's a mom. I told her that I don't believe God took her mom, not the way she's comprehending it. Her mom had suffered for many, many years. All I could tell her was that regardless of what we think or feel, things are "okay". Okay in that despite our grief, mom is okay, this maddening, insane world is no longer going to extract further pain from her mom, my wife. Her part is done, but we still carry her with us, her soul, spirit, energy, it's more alive than it's ever been, and will be part of us until we stand with her again. I told her that WE are still here, for whatever reason, we still have things to do. 

We talked, we cried, we talked some more. She said she felt better, she promised she was okay, that she just got hit with this barrage of emotions and needed to talk. I'm dad. I don't know if I said the "right" things, but I told her how I feel, how I see things. I'm dad, and now that job is more crucial than it's ever been, and I pray I'm up to it. Being a 20 year old girl/women is difficult enough, she's had her share of setbacks these last couple of years, and now this. I don't know if I can keep her from drowning in her own sorrow, but I'm going to die trying if that's what it takes. She's all I have now. Nothing else in my life, my job, my possessions, even my home, comes close to my commitment to my daughter. It could all vanish and that's okay, I have to take care of my daughter. 

My fear, my deep, dark fear, is that if something happens to ME, my little girl won't make it. I'm truly convinced of this. If something were to (GOD FORBID!) happen to her, I'm done. My will to live will simply cease to exist, and as close as we are, I'm afraid it would be the same for her. And after losing my wife, I realize that all bets are off. Anything can happen. And that terrifies me. Just another monster to terrorize my life. 

Andy

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Archived

This topic is now archived and is closed to further replies.


×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

This site uses cookies We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue. and uses these terms of services Terms of Use.