Loss after three decade relationship.

Jim.

While my children miss their father, they all lead very different, but interesting lives. They've been able to move on. I can't. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels in mud, totally stuck... Although they try, they don't "get it." Every one of my friends has offered me advice, but not one of them has been in this situation. Out of all my friends, I only have one who has come close to "getting it." She is a nurse, and works in a newborn intensive care unit in a large hospital. She has seen way too much suffering, the total heartbreak parents experience, after their dreams of taking home their newborn child, have been totally shattered.

She is the most perceptive, caring person I know. Somehow, she seems to be (almost) able to put herself in other peoples' shoes. Although, just recently, her husband was hospitalized with two very serious medical conditions. He is feeling much better and will make a full recovery, but it will take some time. Backing up a bit, when she called me from the ER, while waiting for her husband's test results, she came so close to tears (in all the years I've known her, she very rarely cries.)... She said to me that she's so sorry, that she didn't really understand how crushing the pain is for me, how difficult it must be for me, to have lost my husband..., until now, when her husband was in such serious condition, that if she hadn't taken him to the ER when she did, it might have been too late. Although she is one step closer to understanding the total heartbreak of losing a spouse, she will never be able to truly understand how it feels, unless it happens to her. Writing the last sentence made me cry... Stopping here.
'
Like you, I'm very thankful that this site has brought so many of us together who truly understand. Vent as much as you need to. We will always be here to "listen."

Sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Lou,

I'm so sorry you're experiencing so much heartache today... Although your friend is well meaning, I'm glad you're "listening to yourself." You will know if that time comes, when you're ready. I'm also glad you're meeting him at your "Cheers" bar tonight. I agree, not only do you need a good laugh, but also a friend who cares about you..., and who you're comfortable sharing your feelings with. I hope that by the time you return home tonight, you're feeling much better.

You've touched my heart. It made me smile when you said that "Linda would have liked me." I'm certain I would have liked Linda too. Thank you for getting me to smile twice within such a short period of time.

As always, sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

At bar with guy now. He's on the phone.
I don't mind, bc I'm emailing you! We did
have a few laughs. I wasn't planning to
go out tonight, but I'm glad he texted..
It was a quiet Tues, night, which fit my
mood. Friday night is crowded, but
lively & fun. The bartenders kid me,
but I've learned to give it back. In the
beginning, I was easily hurt. I find myself
smiling & even laughing more, and
people seem to want to be around me.
Thanks again for your warm and deeply
understanding words, Deb. Lou

 

Lou,

Thank you for sharing good news. I'm so glad you went out and shared a few laughs!!! A change in scenery and spending some time with a friend is just what you needed. I like the way you do everything you can to take good care of yourself. This would make Linda happy.

Enjoy the rest of your evening...

As always, sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

After friend left, I moved to other end of bar.I sat next to 2 women, my age, having dinner.one of them said I looked like a guy
she went to high school with. She's not the only one to say that. Apparently, I have a
doppelganger in town. I've never seen him,
bc he & wife don't come to this bar. Strangely,
found out wife's name is Linda. Finally, one
night, 2 weeks ago, I ran into a guy I see
every Fri. night at bar. He excitedly said
there was someone he wanted me to meet.
it was my lookalike. I was nervous, but
curious & determined. We walked over to
his pickup truck, where the couple were sitting. The guy & I stared at each other &
smiled. I broke the ice, & told them about
myself, Linda, bc I was a newcomer. Even
though he looked older than I am, I said our
glasses were the same, and the shape of our
faces. I said, " I like your smile. You're a
handsome guy". We all laughed. Lou

 

THAT MADE ME LAUGH TOO. YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT POPS UP OUT OF THE BLUE. ONE THING FOR SURE, LIFE IS ALWAYS CHANGING. I'VE BEEN KEEPING UP ON YOUR POSTS, YOU SEEM TO BE HAVING SOME GOOD TIMES LATELY. I THINK LINDA IS YOUR ANGEL WATCHING, LOOKING AFTER YOU. SHE WANTS YOU TO BE OK AND HAVE CONTENTMENT IN YOUR LIFE. I BELIEVE IT. YOU ARE ONE SPECIAL GUY I CAN TELL FROM YOUR POSTS. KEEP THEM COMING, I ENJOY READING ABOUT YOUR DAYS. BELIEVE IT OR NOT, IT GETS ME OUT OF MY FUNK. BLESSINGS, KAREN

 

Lou,

You did it! You got me to smile again!

Thanks for sharing...

Sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Great, Deb, I like to make people smile,
or even laugh. You & I have certainly done
a lot of crying alone, and on this forum.
I enjoy telling my stories to you & others,
and I like to hear the group's stories. Lou

 

Lou,

I really needed that smile, total understatement!

Last night, for the first time since my husband died, I wanted to sleep with his pillow. I took it from his side of the bed (I haven't been able to sleep on his side of the bed since he died), and replaced it with mine. I immediately began crying, I couldn't stop... I miss him so much... I just wanted him to wrap his arms around me..., I wanted us to fall asleep together.... the way we used to..., the way it should be now. It hit me like the roof had just crashed down on my head..., he is never going to sleep in our bed with me again. I cried and cried and cried... I tried to stop, but I couldn't. Grief is relentless... It totally sucks!!!

Even though I didn't get much sleep last night, I made myself get up at the same time I've been getting up every morning (thank you for that suggestion). I forced myself to complete the things on my "to do" list. Unfortunately, one of them was going to pick up a few items at the grocery store. I had to face that Halloween display again. This time I managed to get past it without crying. The rest of the day was "uneventful," always a good thing.

I'm going to try to get a walk in tomorrow morning before it gets too hot. It's been way too long since Mother Nature has decided to cool things down a bit. Just being outside, getting some fresh air, (hopefully) running into some of my favorite dogs along the way, will give me the energy and strength to get through the rest of the day. This grief journey just keeps getting harder, the more time that goes by.

Thanks for "listening." It helps to "talk" about it.

I hope you're having a good evening...

I hope tomorrow you have another funny story to share... Smiling, laughing... are always a good thing, something I used to (sadly) take for granted.

Sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Reading through all of your stories makes me glad I am here. My Ron had a heart attack at hone on May 14th, 2021, had surgery May 18th, came through it with flying colors, had a stroke and brain bleed on May 19th, He held on until June 26th when he passed away from cardiac arrest and respiratory failure. I didn't make it to the emergency in time, he passed just minutes before I got there (he was transported from the nursing home, I got a call at 8:10, to let me know he was on his way to emergency, another call as I was backing out of the driveway, the third call while driving to let me know he was in emergency and they were doing CPR, the final call, to say he had died came as I was at the light to turn into the hospital). I ran into emergency like a wild woman, a Chaplin came and got me, took me back to where Ron was, gave me tissues, told me to take as much time as I needed. I wanted so much for him to open his eyes, smile and tell me it was ok. I was amazed at how peaceful he looked, how calm. Knowing all he had been through( feeding tube, respirator, triple by-pass, stroke, a lot of meds, brain bleed, stint in his neck)I knew in my heart he was at peace, my mind just hasn't accepted it yet. We had 45 years together, 38 of them married. He was my rock when my Dad passed, was with me when my Mom passed, held me when our dog we both adored passed. I relied on him for so much. We didn't have kids, his parents, brother had all died before him. We were basically loners, did everything together from sitting on the porch watching a thunder storm, to fussing over what movie to watch. We were an older couple, met when I was 30, he was 36, married at 36, and 41( his birthday is in Oct. we were married in August 1982). I celebrated what would have been our 39th anniversary, bought myself a small cake, some ice cream, and Baileys Irish Cream. Talked to him, got out wedding photos, cried until I couldn't anymore. I have a small memorial set up with his ashes, the medal from the eye bank( I donated his eyes), his obituary, and framed photos of him at different stages of his life, and photos of us together. I still cry at the most inopportune times, talking to the financial planner, the funeral director about prepaying for my funeral expenses, the young men that came today to clean the gutters. I don't sleep more than a few hours a night, have lost about 15 lbs. I pace, going from room to room, looking for something to clean, rearrange, boxes to go through, anything to stay busy. Days aren't as bad as the nights, they are killers for me. Sorry for rambling, feels good to get some of this out. Thanks for listening. Carole

 

Carole,

I'm so very sorry for your loss. Words are totally inadequate to express what I want to say to you, but they're all we have. I'm way too frazzled to write much tonight, but I want you to know I'm glad that you're able to share your story with us. It really does help, just knowing that everyone here, understands what total heartbreak feels like. I look forward to getting to "know" you.

For now, sending you lots of hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Welcome,Carole. Your story about Ron
is heartbreaking, and, in some ways
much like mine. My wife, Linda, and I
met in our mid forties, & got married in
1996. We never had children, and sadly,
were "loners" like you. Linda went to the
hospital, on 0ct. 1st, 2018, with a lump on
one breast, and horrible pain in her back.
She was diagnosed with breast cancer, and
transferred to a private room in a rehab.
unit of a nursing home. At 68, Linda was
one of the youngest people there. She had
to undergo painful physical therapy, to
help her walk. The plan was for her to be
strong enough to walk & to move in with
me, in a new place. One day, as she was
trying to go from her bed to her wheelchair, she fell, in a horrible,
unnatural way. I ran to get nurses, who
were not at the desk, and didn't hear the
buzzer. Her last words to me were, "push
the button". All he'll broke loose, when the
rescue squad came racing down the hall
to get her. I was in the front hall, sobbing
uncontrollably, with a physical therapist,
trying to comfort me. Linda's favorite nurse, about our age, told me Linda had
no pulse. They tried to revive her in the
ambulance to the ER, but I knew in my gut
that it was over. I followed her ambulance
in another one, speeding with sirens
blaring. Even now, the sound of sirens
chills me, and I choke up. When I got to the
ER, a doctor told me Linda died from a
pulmonary embolism. I was asked if I
wanted to see her body, and I said no.
I wanted to remember her talking to me.
I stayed at the ER, for hours. The ER
doctor was concerned about me, and the
nurses hugged me. I took a cab to the
winter motel, where I was staying. I
thought I could manage, until the night
before Thanksgiving. A cab took me to
the ER. I realized I had no one. Linda was
my best ( and only ) friend and family.
I voluntarily went to a small psychiatric
unit for 5 nights. When I came out of my
room there, I was joined by people with
depression and alcohol and drug addiction. I had extreme bereavement,
survivor's guilt, loneliness, and suicidal
ideations. Upon discharge, I began seeing
a psychiatric nurse practioner/grief
counselor. I moved out of the motel to
an apartment in a different town, so I
could get a fresh start. It's been a year and
9 months since Linda's death. I still cry
every morning before I walk outside in
nature. I start to feel better when I see
people who have become my friends.
My counselor had suggested Grief in
Common, and I joined recently. The kind
widow who reached out to you, Deb, has
become a dear friend, and we "talk" every
day or night. I hope you will continue to
stay with us. Lou

 

Deb. I just welcomed Carole to our group,
and was glad you already did. I look forward to hearing from her and told her
how you and I have become close friends
and check on each other day and night. I know you were too tired to write. I was
just about to go to bed, later than usual,
bc I had taken a nap. I always get tired
when the seasons change. Even though
it's only Sept. 1st, the children in my
town went back to school today. I felt so
bad, and cried, as usual, when I read about
your husband's pillow. When I wake up
from a nap, I sometimes cry uncontrollably about Linda, knowing that
I will never see her, or hug her, again. I
would like to do that, and talk to her about
what's happened since she died. Since
that's impossible, I try to keep her spirit
alive, by saying her name, Linda, to
friends, and even to strangers. Lately,
I've even quoted Linda's funny phrases,
sometimes at my expense, and laughed
with others. Hope you sleep better tonight.
I'm spent, after writing to Carole, and then,
you, so I'm going to sleep. Hope to see your
"thread" in the morning. Lou

 

Hello, oneman. We were also at our 30 year mark. It is a month since he passed for me. Tonight 4 weeks ago my husband was in a hospice bed in the middle of our living room and I lay on the couch beside him and kept reaching up and holding his hand and stroking his arm. We liked to hold hands. It was gastric cancer of a rare type which couldn't be cured although we fought like tigers this past year trying every chemotherapy they'd suggest. He was the healthiest, ruggedest outdoorsman you'd ever meet until a year ago when he turned jaundiced and tests showed it was already too late. My worst emotional pain tonight is missing TALKING to him. Our friends have been wonderful--checking on me, calling me, dropping by for visits--so much so that I've gotten angry and unplugged the phone and screamed "Leave me ALONE!" at the walls. Because I find that all the conversations and visits are making me miss him so much I can hardly bear it. He was my best friend. He was my counselor and my rock and my soul mate and the one person whom I knew "got" me--got my sense of humor and knew my moods and saw into me like nobody else ever has. So although I love our friends, it seems that their presence makes me even more aware of my beloved's absence. And that makes me feel mean and ungrateful. After I deal with some business matters, I may post a sign on the door and go away on a religious retreat where I don't have to interact with anybody.

 

Deb, I was about to go to bed, and read
your very sad story about your husband's
pillow. Then, I saw your warm welcome
to a new member, Carole. You beat me to
it. Then, I wrote a long email to her,
about my story with Linda, and my
friendship with you. Lou

 

Deb321-
Thank you for sharing your experience and your kind words.
I worked in hospice for ten years. It was the best job I ever had. And yet, with all of those I cared for in those last moments of their lives, I could never really know what it was like to lose a loved one. The families were always appreciative of my care and compassion for their loved one. But I didn't really know the grief. I always felt like I was on the outside.
Now I know. I am experiencing the grief first hand. I am on the inside now. And it is difficult. A lot more than I ever realized.

I am the oldest of four children. My brothers and sister have never been through this kind of thing. I do not blame them. I don't expect them to understand.

The grief is even more difficult when a loved one loses a battle to a disease. To watch her slowly go from vibrant and intense to unable to speak and then pass; it is heartbreaking.
I don't know what it would be like if my wife passed from old age. I'll never know now. But the loss due to an unforeseen situation, it is hard to understand.

What is hard is that I thought we would grow old together, and it didn't happen.

All I know is that I love her. Always will.

 

Welcome, Logcabinwoman. I wish I could
welcome you under better circumstances.
Your story about your husband is
heartbreaking, and I cried. My wife, Linda,
and I were married 25 years, no children.
She was my best ( and only ) friend and
family. I have "talked " with one-man
(Jim) about his marriage to Mary. I've
also become close with several widows,
including Deb, with whom I check in with
every day and night. My user name is
Van Gogh, because I identified with his
highs and lows. He was a tortured man,
like I was, when my wife, Linda, died
suddenly in front of me. It may help you
to say your name and your husband's.
Look forward to your "threads". All of
us on this wonderful Grief in Common,
understand and deeply care about each
other. Lou

 

Jim, your last 2 sentences resonate with
me. As I told our dear friend, Deb, I cried
after a nap recently, and called out to
Linda, tears streaming down my face,
saying that even if I meet another woman
I will always love her and NEVER forget
her. I just welcomed Logcabinwoman,
who replied to your thread. Lou