I havent been here in a long time; mostly because I thought in the past few years I had come to terms with losing Arnie.  This year hit me like a tsunami.  I lost him on the same day of the week in 2012.  My 13 y/o dog is getting worse everyday.  She is now on pain pills for the arthritus in her legs.  She was diagnosed with cancer almost 3 years ago and I was told it was malignant and very invasive.  They removed the tumor on the top of her head and has been on prednisone ever since and doing well.  Today I found 3 fatty tumors and I dont think she has much time left.  My retirement funds have been decimated with the recession and inflation.  I've had multiple injuries in the last 5 years; broken ankle, broken wrist, torn rotator cuffsi in both arms and my mind is in a constant fog

I have never felt to totally broken like I do now.  I had quit smoking and limited my alcohol to 1 or 2  at night.  I've lostmy appetite and am 25 # underweight.       I'm 65 and have no energy left to keep fighting.  The house is a mess.  I had an enormous tree blown down by the 50 mph winds we had during the period when the entire US was in the extremely low tempurture and high winds.  It cost $1200 to have it removed.  I have another, larger tree a few yards away that will cost thousands to remove. 

And  I am in a tsumi of grief that  I havent felt in years.  All I want to do is sleep.  

My last physical with CT scans showed a tiny nodule on top of my left lung.  The radiologist wrote that because it was so small, that I have another CT scan in 12 months.  There is nothing left to even try anymore.  

 I feel like I openede  Pandoras box only to find hope missing.  Two of my siblings are also fighting a possible cancer diagnosis.  

I apologize for the Debbie Downer post.  Since Covid I have become a virtual recluse; I shop once a week for food and supplies.  I dont want to talk or see anyone because I know I will just hear "It will get easier" or "suck it up buttercup" or any of the unintentional but hurtfull responses like "It is God's plan" or "you should be past this by now" or suggestions from people who havent lost a spouse to rejoin the gym and senior center or to just "eat more or find a way to socialize with people again."  

For all those who are suffering either from a recent or long ago loss, my heart is with you and just know you are not alone.

Thanks for listening.

candace

It has been a long time since I posted here.This forum though was a lifeline to me through some very difficult years and I met some amazing people. I turn 50 tomorrow, 31 years to the day since I got together with my wonderful husband and 7 since he died. My hope is that in posting here it encourages someone.

From now on I will wish I was 50 again. Graham didn’t have the privilege of making this decade, I still miss him every day and very much. I know now though, that I am a better version of me, more capable, healthier, fitter, stronger in every way.

This has been the toughest of decades, but I have survived and at times thrived. New words by which I can be described this decade include; widow, head teacher, triathlete, yogi, mountaineer, vegan, mother in law, grandmother-to-be, islander, debt free, campervan lover. Almost none of these were anticipated.

Last year I moved to the very tiny island of Muck (named as muc-mhara is Gaelic for whale). An island one mile long by two miles wide with only 30 adults and no shop off the west coast of Scotland. Possibly one of the most beautiful places in the world. My very own widow island retreat. I can feel hope seeping again into my bones through my wellington boots as I stand in the sea on this beach (in the picture). It’s a slow healing process each time I see a golden eagle, the sky full of stars or the aurora. I listen to the waves, the birds and my breathing. I swim here and canoe and heal. My wounds are still there but invisible to most.

Trials have built character, character has taken me to new places and these have slowly built hope. I will not stay here forever, another year or two. I kept my home in Edinburgh too so I can visit my 5 children and I plan to return there. Ten more working, saving years and then camper van travelling around this most beautiful of counties and abroad, I am strong enough to do this now.

Now at 50 I am beginning to feel comfortable being single and the Isle of Muck has helped. The dating has not gone well so far and some downtime was called for. It would be lovely to be married again at 60, but it will also be lovely to be well and single.

I can honestly say I am happy again and I didn't ever think I truly would be. This is not the life I chose, this was not part of my roadmap, but it is life and a good one. I wonder this evening, which new words will describe this decade to come?

Many years ago I started the Three Good Things thread so these are mine today:

1.Still in my 40's for 6 or so hours.

2. In Edinburgh today so have seen some of my children.

3. I am alive and living.

Much love to you all,

Helen

I have not posted here in many years. I was widowed in 2012. I made many friends on the old YWBB and here,  including a very special woman named Bunny who also lost her husband to cancer around the same time as I lost my husband. 
I’m sorry to say Bunny passed away from breast cancer Monday. She was surrounded by loved ones every step of the way -from diagnosis to a peaceful death. 
Her boyfriend was a constant, loving, caregiver. I am so grateful to him. I am so thankful that love she gave so freely was revisited upon her ten-fold to the very end.
She was so special. 
I am heartbroken. 
 

I am Michelle. My partner Paul died 9 years ago on New Years morning. I was mostly active on the forum when it was previously YWBB. I am looking for a post to provide a new young widow. It was a lovely writing to give family and friends that talked about what the journey might be like. Is that attached to this forum anywhere? Anyone remember what I am talking about who could get it for me? Thanks! 

My husband will soon be dead for 12 years.  He died in the end of August. For 11 months out of the year, I just seem to be busy with living. New friends, old friends, things to do, plans, obligations and spontaneous moments.  Just a regular life.

I keep waiting for the year where I forget.  Where I get half way through August and think “Oh yeah. This is the month where Jim died.”

So far that hasn‘t happened.  I always feel it creeping up on me. It’s just something not quite right: a wrinkle in time, a pull of the past, a memory of another life.  I’m willing to admit there is also a piece of me that wants to scream and tear out my hair and gouge my face with my fingernails. I want to wail and weep and wear black.

But of course, I don’t. I know it’s just an August thing.  It passes.

I’m twitchy today.  Unsettled.  Up and down and in between.  Then I figured it out.  It is almost August.

I have a good life.  When Jim died, I died, but I have rebuilt myself. I took all the pieces that were left of me when he died and I assembled them into someone new.

 But even that new person feels the pull of August.

And I miss him today.

I still can't help but think that her final act of suicide was one done to control me - to try to govern and define my life, to claim me as bound to her forever, as opposed to one taken to end her pain. Thinking back, I really do wonder how I fell in love with her and why, despite everything, I still do love her and miss her smell. It's been nine years.

The best way I can describe grieving over a loved one as the years go by is to say it’s similar to carrying a stone in your pocket.

When you walk, the stone brushes against your skin. You feel it. You always feel it. But depending on the way you stand or the way your body moves, the smooth edges might barely graze your body.

Sometimes you lean the wrong way or you turn too quickly and a sharp edge pokes you. Your eyes water and you rub your wound but you have to keep going because not everyone knows about your stone or if they do, they don’t realize it can still bring this much pain.

There are days you are simply happy now, smiling comes easy and you laugh without thinking. You slap your leg during that laughter and you feel your stone and aren’t sure whether you should be laughing still. The stone still hurts.

Once in a while you can’t take your hand off that stone. You run it over your fingers and roll it in your palm and are so preoccupied by it’s weight, you forget things like your car keys and home address. You try to leave it alone but you just can’t. You want to take a nap but it’s been so many years since you’ve called in “sad” you’re not sure anyone would understand anymore or if they ever did.

But most days you can take your hand in and out of your pocket, feel your stone and even smile at its unwavering presence. You’ve accepted this stone as your own, crossing your hands over it, saying “mine” as children do.

You rest more peacefully than you once did, you’ve learned to move forward the best you can. Some days you want to show the world what a beautiful memory you’re holding. But most days you twirl it through your fingers, smile and look to the sky. You squeeze your hands together and hope you are living in a way that honors the missing piece you carry, until your arms are full again.

My son turns 18 in 6 months!!! 

So, as I am not recoupled, was considering putting his name on things so he could access them in case of ER. Like on my checking account.  Maybe on the car title, too.  I have my finances like insurance policy and such in his name as the beneficiary.  But this is different. This would be ICE he would have access to my accounts.  I was on my mother's so I could manage hers.  I know, she was elderly, and it was different.  Anyone do this? It would be only ICE. He is a mature young man. Any downsides? 

She left me with four children to finish raising on my own, the eldest was 3 weeks from his 16th birthday and the youngest, our only girl, was 5 weeks away from being 11 years old. The last 7 years have seen so many life milestones for the four of them, 3 HS and 1 college graduation, 4 new drivers, all of them dating, some serious some not, but she never got to meet any of the significant others.

There's so much of my life today that she has not had a direct connection with. I find myself feeling more and more distant from that day she left. I used to say it felt like forever and yet just yesterday at the same time. I do not feel that anymore and I don't know when that changed. It all just feels like another lifetime away.

Now I find myself trudging through life trying to make the best of what I have. Work is a constant struggle to wright the ship after too much neglect by me when she died. It's getting better but it exhausts me still. My kids are all in somewhat different directions and stages between, work, college, post college, senior year HS and thier own relationships with girl/boy friends. They are all good kids, not perfect, and I'm proud of how well they've kept themselves together in spite of the challenges of losing their mother who was so involved in their daily lives. Personally I've connected with two other women since my wife died. Both I had know in my life already, in hindsight both were probably not ready for a relationship. Both made my heart skip a beat and brought joy back into my shattered heart. I miss them both for different reasons. Yet I have no drive to find someone else at this time. There is a certain numbness in my life right now. I'm not sure I have the capacity to engage my personal life until I have a more secure feeling in both the stability of my kids lives and of my work life. This flies in the face of the fact that I know all too well how short life can be and that at any moment it could all be over. But I don't seem to care about that and I'm not sure why.

Thanks for listening to my ramble, there are very few places and people to whom I feel comfortable saying many of these things.

At 59, I don't feel old, but I sure don't feel young.  I've had a couple of relationships since (one ongoing), and while I can honestly say I love(d) those men, there is no marriage in my future.  I married the last person for the last time and he's been gone longer than we were together.  Time just keeps passing.  

An old friend was just widowed.  It got me thinking about how alone I feel most of the time.  I have friendships and good relationships with my adult children, but this isn't the old age I planned for.  

I am grateful for what I have in my life, but there's a pervasive sadness that I've never been able to throw off.  I know where it comes from.  I don't ever get to sit on a porch in rocking chairs with my husband.  That was the old age I wanted.  Just getting old together.  

Gradually, I moved forward. I am in a good place now. But today, I read everything in that box and I had an awful thought. I do not remember if I wrote thank you notes for the flowers, the donations, for the meals people brought while he was dying. I feel a little heartsick now hoping I did but thinking maybe I didn’t. The anniversary of his death is coming up soon. is this a good time to reach out to some of those people with my honest gratitude? Perhaps telling them that I was unpacking memories and reminded anew of the caring they extended and how much their words, flowers and donations in his memory meant to me? Or is it too late? He was a well-known, well-loved man and many expressions came from his colleagues. Thank you for your thoughts.

So, I got it out. After a broken relationship post my LH's death, I decided I wanted it out for my son, and maybe me, too. It has been 8 1/2 years.  I took most pictures of LH down when I started to date. I decided that was not fair to my son, who was 8 at the time of LH's  death, 12 when I started dating.  

I cried initially upon putting it out. It is a collage of pics from his baby years to our dating in HS, his military years, church youth years,   wedding to many of him with our son.  

I think I could not put it out and that was unfair to my son to be stripped of precious photos of his father. And now it is out and my son just turned 17! 

I feel good about it. 

I decided if recoupling is to occur and I can handle all their baggage/history, they can handle a photo frame with my LH and our history. And if divorced, still managing their stuff present and future. It is a trade off I feel is worthy. For me but mostly for my son.  

Going on 9 years and still dealing with it all. 

April, May, June July August.

I look for true north.

He is still the one by which I chart my course.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_USvQllSOg

My visit to the cemetery this year has been delayed until now, primarily due to COVID.  However, as things have become less stringent and uncertain (at least here in British Columbia), I finally feel ready to make the 5.5 hour drive from where I live — from where we lived.  In preparation for my visit, I reached out to my wife's family (her cousin, most recently) and asked if he could accommodate me for a couple nights.  But to my absolute astonishment, he refused, saying simply "sorry, but we are just not into the company thing".  In fact, he's actually the 3rd person I've asked now who has likewise stated he or she is unable or unwilling to put me up.  What gives?

It seems ridiculous to me to have to stay at a hotel, if that's what I must do.  Even on simply compassionate grounds, I find this insensitivity extremely distressing.  And while I'm on the topic, I never get invited by anyone there to come visit, and always (and not just on this occasion) feel as though I'm imposing whenever I take the initiative myself.  I have at times surmised I must be too painful a reminder of their Rhonda.  Or that the stigma of widowhood just scares the hell out of these people.  Why, as it has been in my experience, must it be the widowed who are always having to initiate get-togethers?  I'm the one who lives alone now!  Last summer, for example, I had reached out to a couple who we were very close to and asked as diplomatically as I could how they would feel about me coming for a visit.  But she declined, saying rather non-specifically "unfortunately, the rest of the summer is spoken for.  We have tons of projects to complete on our house".

What am I missing here?  Any thoughts or suggestions, I would be indebted. 

- Steve

It was a lovely day- truly one of the happiest in my lifetime. But I feel so far removed from it. Detachment seems an easier way to deal with these things- I never thought I would be able to reach this stage. I am hoping the next stage is being able to feel the joy of that moment without the pain of it’s loss also. 
 

❤️❤️❤️ Feel free to share your wedding pictures with me, I would love to see them ❤️❤️❤️

I tried to focus on the positive.  Sunny day, ordered an ice cream pie.  It was national beer day, so had a Cheers as it was a full pink moon tonight, too.  
Easter at home this weekend .  Weirdest ever.  Having to truly accept my little family of two now.  

 Providing telehealth therapy which is not easy with kids.  Discovered work at home is too isolating despite the perks.  I like to be with the kids I see and use sensory items.  Lucky to work I know.  But limited hours comparable- small pay check.  Keep swimming.   

 To another year!  Cheers! 

I sat down and cried today.  It’s been a while since I’ve done that.  And I miss him so much.  And it stresses my kids so much when they see me upset.  I tell them it’s not their fault, but they feel guilty nonetheless.  Sometimes it’s just too hard.

I just signed up to this forum today...just needed to release my emotions out there. :*(

I've felt relieved that I found my way because the way I used to feel was no way to live. The memories are almost buried under the sheer gravity of time but not so deep that i don't relive the despair in micro bursts when I least expect it. 

When I do, I know, thankfully, that it won't be long until I feel ok again. I know it and yet while I'm in the midst of bawling and feeling fragile I feel that tiny grain of uncertainty-oh God no- here it is again. 

How I miss the man. I can't say it plainer than that. Love has endured, not to the exclusion of other love, but contained inside a capsule that was us and us is lost and that is what this grief is made of. 

Our daughter was 17 when he died and now she has lived eleven days longer than she was allowed to have her father with her in this earthbound life. I thought of calling her to have her listen to me crying but that seems more than cruel. If there is anyone who misses John it is her. She is a beautiful combination of strength and tender heart. I have hated this for her more than I've hated it for me. I lost my own wonderful father when I was a teenager, not much older than she was when she lost John but I never loved him the way she loves John which is saying a lot because I loved my father. He was an incredible man who was overlooked for his genius and his kind and patient parenting. He was a man trapped inside of the stern father figure of the 1950s but somehow I was the only of his children to see his truth. My brothers recall someone just a little bit scary. I recall a teddy.

John was never stern. He was full of laughter and jokes and laughter and lightheartedness. Our daughter's friends remember him as kind and I always wonder if I'm right about how messed up her friend's fathers were for them to come up with the word kind as their first remembrance of John. sure he was kind but that seems such a basic description unless, of course, your own father was never kind. I know a bit about the histories of some of these girls...how my heart breaks for them them never knew a father like mine was to me or like John was to our K. 

Grief stays a hard kernal, whittled down in size but still there...I'm talking about molecules here. I don't hate it like i used to. I never fight with it anymore. How I used to rage against it. I was so unreasonable. I felt so wronged that my beautiful life was thusly interrupted and waylaid. 

Now I see how much I've gained from this experience. Um, thanks but no thanks.

But thanks. Really. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

And as always I just find it so interesting how at one time I was mystified that my life should continue on without him. And now I see this all as  an aha moment. Oh yes, I think to myself, so this is my path. This is how I learned this stuff that I can now bring to the table. This wisdom is such a powerful thing. 

And no matter how boastful that seems, what everyone should remember is that I am still an earthbound misfit. The knowledge that there is more later has been opened but I still do not understand it, not even a little bit. I live my life open to the mysteries, certain of these mysteries and always, always asking for glimmers of how it is. 

I ask. I receive. I don't know how it works. I have faith. 

Faith is a good feat for an atheist, isn't it? 

Seventeen years ago today I struggled with life and wrestled with a Christmas tree so we would continue to be able to have Christmas as a cherished family tradition. While John was dying I whispered in his ear to make haste and to leave us this tradition as his legacy. And he did. I still don't feel bad about it, in fact I'm glad I had the foresight not to be of the ilk who begs the dying to stay for just a bit longer. He was done, after all. And that I did that whispering is my secret. I have refused to let "regular folks" know what it's like to make bargains like that. 

I've done a lot of hard shit like that. Soft on the exterior, fooling the masses and inside just rock hard and solid as can be. Titanium. Bulletproof. Invincible...until grief takes me by the hair and pulls me off a cliff. 

Wrenching myself away from our human bond was frightful and how much I didn't want it to be the case didn't matter at all. No wonder I fought it. 

When I look at my life as a whole I'm right with the way I've conducted myself. So right that even though I've grieved I'm ok to grieve more. Ten minutes of feeling the hurt the same as I did back in the early days then, ten minutes of missing the man. Ten minutes of wondering how in the hell I got from there to here. 

I dry those tears and walk on.

Ever earthbound. Until I'm not.

I'm expecting a beautiful reunion. But I'm not holding my breath. It will come soon enough. For now, I'm still kissing the sky.

Quote

A soul in tension that's learning to fly
Condition grounded but determined to try
Can't keep my eyes from the circling skies
Tongue-tied and twisted just an earth-bound misfit, I

Jeudi

How long did it take you to NOT feel married anymore?

Then you go back to work on Monday morning or Tuesday and everyone says, how was your weekend?  How do think it was?  It was lonely, sad and depressing, much like the rest of my life.  Of course, I never say that, because people like to live in their little bubbles, and I try to be as pleasant as possible at work.  If they only knew the truth.

Any thoughts about this?

http://www.rebellesociety.com/2013/12/18/5-lies-you-were-told-about-grief/

In a few days I'll be the same age my husband was when he died.  Not a birthday I want to celebrate and even a little more bitter because my mother passed last summer and our birthdays were one week apart.  A lot of triggers this last few weeks and a lot of emotions coming to the surface.