I'm sure

[BBB]

I'm sure everyone will say they can relate but this is new for me. Does pretty much everything you do remind you of your spouse in some way? Like I'm in the grocery store the other day and I'm saying to myself, we used to make those or she would like that or that's her favorite. 27 years of memories and everything floods into your brain that all relates to her for me. It becomes difficult to NOT think about her. Still catch myself when I feel like I want to go to a particular restaurant or take a trip to the mountains and get very solemn when I immediately realize she won't be going with me. So weird, so odd and so difficult.

 

[foreverhis]

YES!  Even now after 2 years, there are mundane, every day activities and things that choke me up or just stop me in my tracks.

There are places I do not go, music I do not listen to and shows I will not watch/see (we were musicians by avocation and met in the theater), foods I do not cook (I am an excellent cook and baker and loved making things for him), and more.  So many things are dripping with memories that sometimes I get overwhelmed.  Everywhere I look, he is there.  In the beautiful fence and retaining wall he designed and had built to the way he re-carpentered our entertainment center to fit a new TV (bigger as our eyes were no longer young and looking at a tiny screen became challenging) to his big armchair (he was 6 feet tall with broad shoulders) to his hoodie that hangs in the entry (and always will, as far as I'm concerned).  The thing is that I'm not sure I would want that any other way.  All of these things are tangible reminders of our life together.  They prove he existed, that we belonged to each other, and that we love.

The first many months and sometimes now, small things are painful and flood my memory.  Like going to the grocery store and seeing that his favorite (and usually expensive) ham is on sale in the deli or walking through our local nature preserve and envisioning all the times we were there together.  While I do not intentionally "wallow," how can it be otherwise when I was married to him for well over half my life and nearly all of my adult life?

Here's a summer time example:  Every year we would go to town to the Saturday farmers market to buy peaches from a specific grower.  We even had little silly rituals like "the ceremonial eating of the first peach of the season."  He was able to have that just a month before he died, but afterward I didn't go to the market for the rest of that summer.  I couldn't.  Last summer, I decided to brave it and go buy peaches sometimes.  I had to tell "the girls" (the family's daughters who come to our market and who so enjoyed talking to my sweetie) and that was really hard.  This summer, I am trying to go most weeks and I split a flat of peaches with two friends, who totally understand why sometimes I have tears in my eyes when I hand over their shares.  But every darn Saturday as I'm driving to town in the early morning, I think of him, wish he was with me, and remember how appreciative he was when I'd bake his favorite things.  Every time I see the awning for the peach stand, I sigh.  And every week coming home, as I crest over the hill that leads down to our street and see the roof of our house, I wish he was either with me or home waiting for me, so we could revel in our joy over such a simple thing as a perfect peach.  Actually, I baked mini peach pies a few days ago for the first time in nearly 3 years.  It felt good to be able to do it with completely breaking down, yet I was and am wistful and sad that he's not here so I can see his smile, hear his "Thank you," and watch him enjoy every bite.  I'm certain I will always feel that way.  What's changed is that the pain I felt even contemplating these things the first year has softened and my heart has started to allow me to remember those good things without completely losing it.  I consider that to be positive steps forward, but he will always be with me in everything I do.  Always.

[BBB]

Oh for sure, I cannot listen to certain songs, watch certain movies OR go certain places. Some of the places I would like to go back to but I know it would be too emotionally difficult. I can't even go to the stupid local farmer's market alone....too painful.

 

[KayC]

It did in the early years but not as much now, it's been 15 years.  In those early months my daughter had to get groceries for me, it was something George and I had always done together, we'd see friends, go out to eat and get groceries on the way back (over an hour form home).  Everything reminded me of him because we were always together when not working.  Now I've been alone so long...it's hard to remember not being alone, it seems like a movie I once watched or something I dreamed.

As for music, it's still too painful for me to listen to "our songs"...we had many.

[Yoli]

The fact that you still feel this way after 15 years fills me with absolute dread. I am not yet at 3 months and struggle every day.

Music, tv, movies, grocery shopping, eat at a restaurant - all things that I avoid as much as humanly possible. I fear hearing the songs she liked or stumbling across the TV programs she liked, I shop at a different super market and buy the bare minimum. I just want to get out of there as quickly as possible so I can go home and cry.

[Gail 8588]

Yoli,

Don't feel too much dread. Your path may very well be different than Kay's or mine or anyone else's.

I honestly have very little memory of the first 2 months of my grief.  It is all a blur. I don't think I did much other than sleep and cry.  

For the following year, I pretty much forced myself to go places and do things that my husband and I did together. I knew that the first time I did something after John's death, I would fall apart as I faced people who would offer their condolences or that  didn't know he died.  The first time I went to our pizza parlor, I cried the whole time I was there. But I didn't cry the second time. Same with the dry cleaner, the auto repair shop, hair stylist, printer's, restaurants, etc.   The first time was always a flood of tears.  But the subsequent visits, while still hard, were doable.

My husband was a musician and made a dozen CDs.  For months I would cry listening to him sing.  But, eventually, I could listen without crying.

I listen to his CDs nearly everyday now, no tears, just feel close to him.

If it feels right to you to avoid emotional triggers for now, I would avoid them.  You will find your own pace for returning, or not, to places you went as a couple.  Trust your own instincts on this. 

Peace,

Gail

[BBB]

Yep, feel exactly like Yoli

[foreverhis]

15 hours ago, Gail 8588 said:

I knew that the first time I did something after John's death, I would fall apart as I faced people who would offer their condolences or that  didn't know he died.  The first time I went to our pizza parlor, I cried the whole time I was there.

Absolutely.  The first time I went to the farmers market was about 7 months after my husband died.  Right off the bat, I ran into two casual acquaintances I hadn't seen for a long time.  They asked the usual questions and I told them why we hadn't been around.  They both said they were sorry, which is actually the best thing to say if someone doesn't know what to say.  I repeated that ritual off and on for some time, especially because I simply hadn't been able and had no desire to talk to anyone who wasn't really close to me/us.  I hated it.  I'd keep it together while talking to someone and then completely lose it afterward.

There's a little BBQ place we loved.  My mom's family is from Virginia (I'm a California girl).  I grew up eating pulled pork with coleslaw.  My husband had never really had "the good stuff" so he didn't think he liked it.  One time when I was at the big outdoor farmers and food market, I bought pulled pork with coleslaw from four places.  We split each one.  None were bad, but one stood out for me as truly authentic to what I knew and loved ("warm" spices, not overly sauced or sweet, perfectly pulled, with just the right kind of slaw on a perfect bun).  That one stood out for him too.  He was hooked.  That shop also runs the BBQ stand at our local summer league baseball games.  It became a ritual and soon we'd stop at the little hole in the wall secondary shop a couple of times a month when we went to town.  He even asked me to bring some one time when he was at rehab.

Afterward, I couldn't go there.  I just couldn't.  Several months later, I had an appointment to switch over the car title and insurance.  It's right by our BBQ place.  I still had a gift  card we'd been given, so I decided to brave it.  I went inside and kept it together at first, but as I sat waiting for takeout, I just lost it.  So I'm sitting there sobbing and the poor gal behind the counter is clearly trying to figure out if she should come over to offer help.  I finally waved like, "I'm okay. This is normal for me now."

When I got home, I walked in the door, said, "I'm home" as I always do. Then I said, "Look, honey, I did it.  I got really brave today."  And then I cried some more.  I've only been there twice since then because it's still so difficult.

I think one of the things that's difficult for others to understand is why things like this are so emotionally painful no matter how much time goes by.  Well, I no longer care if anyone else understands.  It's not their loss or their grief.

[KayC]

19 hours ago, Yoli said:

The fact that you still feel this way after 15 years fills me with absolute dread.

I'm not sure what you are talking about because I said I do NOT feel that after 15 years, perhaps you misread what I wrote?

As Gail said, our journeys are unique, you can carve out for yourself whatever you wish in your own journey.  I live a full life now...yes I continue to love and miss George, but I do not focus on what I've lost but on what I have.

Yes the music is still too hard for me to listen to as it's a trigger.  George was very into music, it makes me miss him all the more.  I intentionally don't go there.  I cannot live in the past that is gone to me.

[Guest Sue4]

Any music fills me with pain and sadness because my husband - gone almost 3 months, listened to all kinds all day, every day. There are places we were going to travel to together and now, I don’t feel like traveling ever again. The list goes on and on. Every single thing in our house reminds me of him, so there is anguish everywhere I turn. 

[widower2]

 

12 hours ago, foreverhis said:

There's a little BBQ place we loved.  My mom's family is from Virginia (I'm a California girl).  I grew up eating pulled pork with coleslaw. 

Howdy from Virginia! I'm glad you learned how to eat it the right way.  It's vinegar-based BBQ for me all the way, yes of course with the slaw on top. 

I'm so sorry for your loss and to all of you, I can totally relate to those special places or foods or songs etc. I remember the first time I went into a Lowe's after she passed away; we had gone there many many times for this or that home improvement project on her house or to buy plants etc etc. Many fun times, talking about how to do this or that. As I walked in there without her for the first time, those memories and the sting of her loss and my utter "aloneness" all hit me like an avalanche.Luckily I was able to duck into an aisle where no one was and just (as quietly as I could) lost it. There were other similar times. At home of course, at work (thank God for empty rest rooms or unused conference rooms) and so forth. It's such a goddamned lonely path we're forced to walk. I'm so sorry for anyone else who has been there.  

[widower2]

22 minutes ago, Sue4 said:

Any music fills me with pain and sadness because my husband - gone almost 3 months, listened to all kinds all day, every day. There are places we were going to travel to together and now, I don’t feel like traveling ever again. The list goes on and on. Every single thing in our house reminds me of him, so there is anguish everywhere I turn. 

I'm so sorry Sue. It's all understandable in the early stages.I have/had many similar reminders. I wish I had some magical answer for you to stop the pain, but you must find your own way over time. And if that response makes you feel like to want to smack me upside the head, that's understandable too! Been there...we all hate hearing it or acknowledging it but the reality is it takes time and you need to take this (forgive the cliche) one day at a time. If venting here helps, please do. 

[KayC]

9 hours ago, Sue4 said:

Any music fills me with pain and sadness because my husband - gone almost 3 months, listened to all kinds all day, every day.

So did mine, he had very eclectic taste, loved it all except for rap perhaps, it wasn't as big back then.  It is a reminder.  I can listen to music but it's very very hard to listen to "our songs."

[foreverhis]

12 hours ago, widower2 said:

Howdy from Virginia! I'm glad you learned how to eat it the right way.  It's vinegar-based BBQ for me all the way, yes of course with the slaw on top. 

Absolutely.  My grandma wouldn't have made it any other way.  She grew up in Deltaville and I still have relatives there.  My parents had friends out of Richmond who we visited sometimes in summer.  And as I sit here in the morning mist at 60 degrees, I'm reminded of east coast summers of heat and humidity.  I loved it anyway, even riding horses in what felt like a sauna at times.

My husband was born outside of White Plains, NY and moved to California when he was 14, so he really had no idea about real pulled pork.  He'd tried it from somewhere, but was turned off by dry pork being drowned in cloying sauce.  The real deal was such a revelation to him.  I've come to believe that the reason I don't care for sauerkraut is that my brain thinks it's slaw someone let sit out too long.

This is a lonely path that none of us ever wanted.  Part of what makes it hard is that others confuse our loneliness with the simple fact of being alone.  So they think that if we're around a bunch of people, then we won't feel so lonely.  Of course, that's not it at all.  It's that we are lonely for one specific person and it doesn't matter (and can be worse) how many people are in the room.  We're going to feel alone and lonely no matter what.

[widower2]

10 hours ago, foreverhis said:

I've come to believe that the reason I don't care for sauerkraut is that my brain thinks it's slaw someone let sit out too long.

LOL - love that (I hate sauerkraut)

 

Quote

This is a lonely path that none of us ever wanted.  Part of what makes it hard is that others confuse our loneliness with the simple fact of being alone.  So they think that if we're around a bunch of people, then we won't feel so lonely.  Of course, that's not it at all.  It's that we are lonely for one specific person and it doesn't matter (and can be worse) how many people are in the room.  We're going to feel alone and lonely no matter what.

Exactly, so well said. More than a few times in those initial years I tried to "get out" with people and often never felt more alone. But I quickly add there were times when it WAS good and i felt less alone, so I am not suggesting that people in this situation should just hole themselves up and not get out. It's different for everyone and to each their own and all but IMO that is a terrible idea. Try to get out, even if you don't feel like it. You have very little to lose by trying.

[KayC]

11 hours ago, widower2 said:

I tried to "get out" with people and often never felt more alone.

That was me too in the beginning, but when I pushed myself past my comfort zone, I gradually began to get more comfortable with it.  Of course some people don't like being out around others ANY time, let alone grieving, so it goes, we are all different.

[foreverhis]

11 hours ago, widower2 said:

But I quickly add there were times when it WAS good and i felt less alone, so I am not suggesting that people in this situation should just hole themselves up and not get out.

That's true for me as well, more so now than the first year.  I didn't mean to suggest that we should be hermits forever, though I pretty was for months after my love died.

At first, I could only stand being around a very small group of friends and family who came to be with me.  By the first Thanksgiving, my sister-by-choice (as opposed to my sister-by-birth and sister-in-law, who we are also very close to) called and basically begged me to consider coming to them for the weekend.  It's a tradition we had for 20 years, after my husband and I moved 3-1/2 hours away:  We go up for Thanksgiving; they come down for the week between Christmas and New Year.  She promised it would only be immediate family, instead of the free-for-all it usually was with 25 people or more in and out all weekend.  I gave it a lot of thought and decided to do it.  It was hard, but it was good.  I felt lonely often and had times when I wasn't sure it had been a good idea.  But because the people I was with understood and were also grieving, it helped us all. 

My love will always be a part of them too.  In fact, when my sister (by birth) and her husband visited recently (and boy, wasn't that a challenge to arrange), she said things like, "The four of us should..."  The first time, I tilted my head, looked at her, and asked, "Four?"  That's when she realized she was still thinking of my love in the present, as if he was simply out of the room.  She said as much and asked if that was hurtful to me.  Of course it wasn't because it meant he was still there for her too.  She is my very much younger baby sister (a midlife surprise) and is actually closer in age to our daughter than to me, so my love was a big brother, favorite uncle, confidante, and close friend all rolled into one.  We used to spend so much time together, even after we moved.  We traveled, had weekend visits throughout the years, and even visited our daughter in Seattle together a couple of times.

By the end of the first year, I had started to take baby steps back into the world.  Besides our very small, loyal and loving group of friends and family who all live out of the area, I had the support of newer local friends, most of whom live either on the same block or within 10 minutes walking distance and whom we were just becoming friends with when my husband was diagnosed.  It may sound weird or maybe not, but the fact that they don't have decades of history, memories, and love with me and my husband has been kind of a good thing.  They want to hear our stories as I am able to tell them.  They do not pretend my love never existed or that he doesn't matter now.  They bring him into the present, where he always is for me.  This new small circle has been a tremendous comfort, especially two who lost their daughter at birth and really "get" grief.  They know when to nudge and when to back off.  So sometimes, more as time goes by, I am able to smile and laugh and be part of the world.  Other times, I very much feel alone even when I'm in a roomful of people.  Still other times, I go into hermit mode, especially now with covid having forced us into more isolation.  That has been a definite setback for me.

Two of our newer friends have a small, funny, smart dog who I was "sitting" once a week.  At the beginning of covid stay-at-home, my friends were really worried and suggested that I might want to have her more often.  They live only two houses down and across the street, so it's not exactly difficult to arrange.  Their little furry bundle of love comes over to me three or four afternoons a week now.  It's been so helpful.  She's both a distraction from my grief and a source of joy because her needs are so simple:  Play with me; love and cuddle me; take me for a little walk.  I don't have to "be" anything for her other than myself.  And she helps me not feel so alone sometimes.

I do believe that being around others can help, as long as the people we are with understand who and how we are now.  I know I will always have that loneliness in my heart, no matter how many years go by or how many people are in the room.  But it's less overwhelming than it was 2 years ago.

 

[KayC]

Thank you for sharing your journey with us, it shows how it transpired, in, like you say, baby steps.  It was kind of like that for me too.  George died 6/19 and I remember my daughter inviting me to her good friend Kate's family get together 4th of July.  While I appreciated their thinking of me, I was in no way up to being with large loud crowds for a "celebration" so soon after his death!  I did end up going to the park where our church/community had a more low key time together, picnic on the grounds, all people I knew and was comfortable with.  A short time there was enough.  I came home to find that George's closet rod had broke, so I boxed them up, went into the shop and cut a new rod to length and felt proud of myself for accomplishing that much.

I never did get invited to Kate's family's again, I would have like to have gone if not so soon.  This is a strange journey.