Author Topic: Today  (Read 1212 times)

beth_krkswidow

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Re: Today
« Reply #15 on: January 25, 2018, 11:16:29 AM »
So sorry. So sorry
"Until my last breath, I loved you more than life itself." ~Kirk, in his envelope to be opened only upon his death.  And now I to you, My Love, until my last breath...

Wife of Tomasz

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Re: Today
« Reply #16 on: January 25, 2018, 11:28:02 AM »
so sorry for what you and your family are going through

kjs1989

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Re: Today
« Reply #17 on: January 25, 2018, 10:12:57 PM »
I am so very sorry.

tybec

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Re: Today
« Reply #18 on: January 26, 2018, 01:39:42 AM »
I am very sorry.

My dear friend and fellow widow just went through this.  Her husband died of cancer in 2014 fall, and her sister had a baby in Dec. 2014 and suffered congestive heart failure afterwards, and she was 40.  Since then, she has been in and out of the hospital for multiple issues.  She was diagnosed with cancer this summer, and hospice in Sept.  My dear friend was struggling so much.  So close to her husband's death, cancer, and her sister passed right after Thanksgiving.

It is so hard to understand why so much was placed on her and her family.  It just is too much for her to carry.  I try to be supportive.  My mother died in early Nov. but it is not the same as her sister with a 3 yr old and other children.  Young and leaving children behind. 

I feel deeply for you and your family.  I understand the dwindling family line.  I am the "baby" which means I could end up being last in my generation.  I don't know but it is lonely already as we are spread out and thin.

Lifting you up in a difficult  time.

sojourner

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Re: Today
« Reply #19 on: February 13, 2018, 08:38:29 AM »
Thanks to all for your thoughts and prayers.

It's now been 2 weeks since my sister's passing, and a week and a half since her funeral. The whole experience with my first major loss since LH's death has been brutal. It was beyond heart-breaking to witness it all again. LH's death was relatively easy and pain-free compared to hers. I feel so much for my BIL. It was gratifying to see that he and his family had so much extended family and friend support as she lingered beyond what anyone expected, and I'm grateful I could be a part of that support. I wish I could've had that.

Definitely, it was worse losing my husband, my partner in our 29 & a half year life together, followed by the collateral damage of losing who I was with him. But this sure is not easy, regardless. One song in particular from her funeral services keeps running through my head, and gives me much comfort knowing I'll see them again, and that ultimately I'll be okay again no matter how tough things are now. "It Is Well With My Soul" is the song; people who like or are familiar with classic hymns will probably recognize it. The first verse goes:

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,
It is well, it is well with my soul.

(The author was Horatio Spafford, who wrote it after a family tragedy.)

Between LH's diagnosis in '12, through his illness, decline, then death in '14, through my sister's diagnosis the following summer to her death now, and some significant issues with myself (ended up with 2 knee replacements, which isn't "supposed" to happen to a healthy person in their early 50's) and my children along the way, plus the death of my father and other relatives, so much of my life the last 6+ years has been about illness, death and loss.

I began seeing a counselor in preparation for losing my sister. One recent discussion after my sister's death centered on how I need to develop ways to start rebuilding and really living life again, and what I want that life to look like. My loved ones would wish for their survivors to continue to build their lives and thrive, as I would for my loved ones when I myself die. So, I'm trying to focus in that direction now, as a positive way of helping process everything. That's alot to think about, so baby steps...

Again, many thanks to all!

Wheelerswife

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Re: Today
« Reply #20 on: February 13, 2018, 09:00:20 AM »
I began seeing a counselor in preparation for losing my sister. One recent discussion after my sister's death centered on how I need to develop ways to start rebuilding and really living life again, and what I want that life to look like. My loved ones would wish for their survivors to continue to build their lives and thrive, as I would for my loved ones when I myself die. So, I'm trying to focus in that direction now, as a positive way of helping process everything. That's alot to think about, so baby steps...

sojourner,

I am so sorry for your losses. 

This last paragraph strikes a chord with me...trying to figure out how to really live life fully again.  I know I have been working on that for years...and sometimes it really does take baby steps.  I have also found that after a series of baby steps, a big leap might be required now and then.  The baby steps seem to prepare for the leaps.  You have just been through a significant loss, so you may need to take those baby steps for a little while.  Follow your heart...or your head...whichever is your lead in decision-making.

Hugs to you,

Maureen
Life is short.  Love with all you've got. 

Barry 11/29/55-9/22/09       John  1/16/57-1/11/14

Empathy  Developer  Responsibility  Adaptability Connectedness

sojourner

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Re: Today
« Reply #21 on: February 15, 2018, 09:15:10 AM »
Thanks, Maureen. Yeah, this re-invention can be daunting. I used to be a mostly stay-at-home mom and wife, doing tons of volunteering, and a part-time employee.  I'm no longer a wife, and in a year I'll be an empty-nester, so my whole identity/roles in life have been turning upside down.

I've been considering a change that'd involve a relatively short move but still keep me close enough to my remaining sister and my kids. I'd need to wait for my youngest to graduate high school next year. But other than that, I feel life's too short to stay one place when you're pretty certain you'd be happier elsewhere. I think a leap is coming, but in the meantime I'm baby-stepping towards what I think I want to do. I'd hate to rush into something only to find out after the fact that renewed grief clouded my judgement. Working through that with my counselor, too. But I expect in a year or so, my life will look very different from today. It has to, really.