Mizpah

Agree with Julester. For me, for a long time, I felt like the idea of "acceptance" made complicit. Lots of "idea words" like acceptance suddenly made me really angry. How can I accept this?! It is unacceptable! And that's the thing: bearing the unbearable. Also, as for not necessarily believing he didn't suffer..... I went on this journey. I talked to his boss, who was present and with him from impact, in the ambulance, til the hospital doctors took him toward surgery and I arrived, I talked to his doctors (about 6 months later - still didn't look at medical records or photos or video), I talked to the nurses and people who are neuroscience experts, etc., etc. I *HAD* to know that he did not suffer. If he suffered, I couldn't live with it. But as time has gone on, I've realized not only that I will never know, not only that maybe perhaps NO ONE knows, but that it changes nothing. Whatever suffering he had in that moments or moments is over, has been over, was over before my suffering began. What happened to him is horrible, just horrible, and I lost the most important person/thing. That's bad enough. The hunt to know if he suffered, no matter what the answer, it only tortured me.

Throw out the words "expected" and "acceptable," and do what comes naturally. I have widow friends who started dating and going out within a couple months (and also dearly loved their spouses and missed them horribly). I'm not saying it makes sense for everyone (for me, I dated for the first time after 15 months, and it was very upsetting for me), but there's nothing wrong with it. We are social and sexual creatures, and we crave companionship and closeness. It is ALWAYS acceptable to have all kinds of feelings. Always. Our conception of the emotional landscape is so simplistic and not at all realistic. We contain all kinds of simultaneous and contradictory feelings. If I misunderstood your question, and you meant when will the darkness inside you lift, then that's different for everyone - and usually very gradual.

I'm so sorry. My DH was standing on a sidewalk when he was hit by a car that flew up onto the sidewalk from an accident in the roadway. It's different, because he didn't die instantly, but had severe brain (and other) injuries, and I was at the hospital with "him" (he was not really there) for a couple days before the doctors declared him gone. I try to push the image of him like that - powerless and broken and bloodied - out of my mind, to remember the so very alive, strong, dynamic, beautiful young man he was. There was video footage of the accident because of businesses' security cameras around the area, and his father chose to watch it. I chose not to. It was, I believe, one of the best decisions of my life. It is different for everyone, but the suddenness of his death, the shock, all of it - I had some pretty severe trauma to grapple with, as I'm sure you do too. My advice - wait. An autopsy report and photos aren't going anywhere. Seeing it all could be very damaging. Not seeing it could be an itch in your brain, but can't be very damaging. There's so much that's rushed in the beginning just after their deaths. But a lot of it really is not urgent. Try to remember that. Some of it is only urgent if you decide it is. It doesn't have to be, and this is one of those. If you're at all open to it, I suggest you start going to therapy (I did, and it was another of the best decisions of my life). Thinking of you, and wishing you comfort and solace.

My boyfriend had mono last winter (I had it when I was 5, so obviously not helpful info from that experience). It took him weeks to recover, and his job is all physical labor and he couldn't take more than a couple days off. He was tired, but he's also a tad crazy, and just pushed through as though his physical and medical needs were irrelevant - obviously not advisable. I would say the obvious symptoms lasted a few weeks only, definitely not more than a couple months. But like I said, he is stoic to the extreme and has immense powers of denial, so he could have just convinced me he was ok when he wasn't. That being said, there were no complications and it didn't last an exceptionally long time. Poor kid. I'm sorry. And in the winter too, which is depressing enough.... Best wishes for a swift recovery for him.

Maybe not a popular opinion, but if you want another child, this may not be something to sacrifice for someone. Love isn't just romance and feelings. It's also a life together, and if you can't offer each other what you want, there could be resentment or regret. I know many women who have had to or who have chosen to give up their dreams of motherhood, or of having another child, either for a man/relationship or because of a lack of one. It breaks my heart for them. Also, if you know you don't want to live where he knows he wants to live, how can that work? Love is all well and good, and I've made major sacrifices for it that I do not regret, so I'm not really one to talk, but if you know for certain it will not work, you may be saving both of you bigger heartache to come. It's so hard to weigh things when it feels like neither option is a good one or the sacrifice for either choice is too great. Thinking of you.

Portside is right: it's different for everyone. I have widow friends who dated within a couple or few months, and I have widow friends who took half a decade to "get back out there." I started seeing a man at about 15 months. I forced myself. I wasn't ready, and knew it, but I wanted to train myself to re-enter the social world. I saw a very kind man who I knew I would never have feelings for, who was set to deploy shortly, so he couldn't offer or demand much either. After that, I was on my own again for a few months, and in that time, I came to life again. Gradually started to feel life returning, felt almost euphoric inside, hoped and wished for some big change, did some traveling alone. At about two years, I met a man by chance who shocked me by causing me to feel big feelings again - feelings I never thought I'd have again. (It was still hard though, and even though I thought I was doing well, I think I was still pretty solidly f'ed up until about three years out or a bit more.) (And also - the first time that first man kissed me after losing DH, I cried and bolted.) Trust your gut.

I did this. I took a huge pay cut and left an exciting job I had attained for a lower level job within the same profession (I'm a lawyer). I moved from super urban to super rural. I became a mom with a man I didn't know very well at the time. I had a huge social life where I was (NYC) and no friends where I went (though I do have family - still, not the same). It is very hard. It caused me to lose footing emotionally and psychologically and I've been struggling. It has caused something of an identity crisis for me - realizing, being away from all these things, that perhaps what I thought was my identity was just my life, and having to start from scratch. (Also, leaving my world for his world, and he being of outsized importance in my new life just by circumstance.) For me, a lot of this though has been being a new mom and the isolation it brings, as well as a working mom to a young kid, which is just relentless as I'm sure you remember, so perhaps it will not be as trying for you. As hard as it's been, I would not go back and make the opposite choice. I'm finding aspects of my new life that have quality beyond my old life, and I'm surprising myself by being open to things. Letting go of certain ideas. My mom always taught me that the only thing that truly matters in life is other people and the love you share with them, and DH reinforced that. That being said, this has required more work and more inner fortitude (and therapy) than most things I've endured (including losing DH). I've felt adrift, I've felt alone, I've felt financially panicked/hopeless/ruined, I've felt like I don't remember who I am, like I hate where I'm at and who I'm around (choosing isolation over a social circle I don't enjoy, the lose/lose options), I've felt great resentment toward my boyfriend, etc., etc. But after about 3 years, I'm bouncing back and truly building something. And again, it's hard to say how much of what I felt after this transition had to do with new motherhood and forging a relationship with someone very different from me in such a context of upheaval and newness and change, rather than just simply a change in career and geography (which is enough for any person to adjust to!). If you do it, I'd say go in open eyed. Accept the possibility that you won't find happiness in your surroundings, that you may feel starkly out of place, a stranger in a strange land, alone, and will have to take responsibility for building your own happiness in circumstances hostile to it. I'd say find a therapist ahead of time in that new place if you can. I'd say brace yourself to accept the salary cut and chant, "money is just a number," in your head until you believe it. I'd say find an independent life there as quickly as possible, apart from just your relationship. This is all probably obvious or maybe not applicable, but it's what I'd go back and do if I knew then what I know now. Prepare for the worst. You know, a couple years after DH died, I wished for a big change thrust upon me - I wished I was with someone who had to go somewhere I didn't want to go for his job so I didn't have choice. I thought it would be simplifying, and I thought, "Hey, I can thrive and be happy anywhere. I'm a snail. I carry my home on my back and I can create a great world/life wherever I am." The adjustment can be hard, but I am finding it's absolutely true. Sorry for babbling. There's maybe something useful *somewhere* in here! Thinking of you and wishing you clarity, and happiness/peace in your continuing new life. Edited to add: As for going somewhere for someone, changing your thinking on that immediately if this is a plunge you're going to take will likely be helpful to you. You are going for you, not for him. Yes, to be with him, to build a life with him, but I honestly believe that I'd have had a much easier time if I'd approached it in a way in which I took more responsibility for my choice rather than telling myself it was for him. If I had approached my life and decisions up here (practical and emotional) as though I were a single person, not dependent on him for anything (emotional fulfillment included). I think it would have strengthened me and strengthened our relationship, ironically.

Hi Rebecca, and I'm so sorry. I lost my husband when he was 28. We left for work on a Friday, excited for the weekend and before noon I received a call and was at the hospital. He'd been hit by a car while standing on a sidewalk and had massive brain and other injuries. Surgery didn't save him and my life and world were gone. I barely remember the first couple/few months. To say that many aspects of life were very difficult for me would be an understatement. I was traumatized. I did lots of therapy and exercise and getting outside in sunshine. Lots of writing. Its different for everyone but I felt more myself again and felt alive again after a couple years. It's brutal. It's a terrible shock. It takes a long time to regain footing. I'm so sorry for your loss and we're all here for you. I hope you find moments of comfort and solace. Keep breathing.

I'm so sorry. It is very very early on. Be patient with yourself - even/especially when your world/surroundings are not. It's not something anyone can truly be prepared for, and certainly not within three weeks. I don't even remember much from the first 3-4 months. Losing our partner is so all-consuming: we suffer for their suffering, we suffer for their loss of life, we suffer because our whole world and all our plans are gone, we suffer because the one person we need to help us get through this is the one person that is so completely, so suddenly non-existent. It is so painful and so shocking and so incomprehensible. Our minds and bodies and hearts need time. We all have walked or are walking this path and understand. I hope that at least brings you comfort. I am thinking of you and wishing you moments of comfort and solace.

OMG WTF?! Though I realize this must all be really disturbing and hurtful and upsetting, this part actually made me laugh. No, really: WTF. My thoughts: not a man. (And not because he cried tears.) Yuck. Dodged a bullet, SF! Wow. Glad you're done investing your time and emotions into this... individual. Wow. Ugh. All my hopes for the OPPOSITE of this guy in your next dating experience.

Same here, and I feel for you. My boyfriend has told me that he doesn't want to ever get married. And I do. I have a hard time imagining ending a relationship I want to be in, with someone who doesn't want to end it. But I also don't want to be with someone who doesn't WANT to marry me. I have been stuck in my head for a few months in a stalemate over what to do, feeling paralyzed, and like it's a lose/lose option setup. I either have to sacrifice what I want from a relationship, or my relationship and the person I want to be with. Ugh. It's a hard call. And it must hurt that he's withdrawn. I'm sorry.

I decided to respond with a resonant, "YES!!!!," before even reading your post, and stand by that now that I have read your post. My widow friends and I from my same timeline (around 5-6 years), often use the hashtag #TotallyNormal in our messages with each other. It started sarcastically, but for good reason. The strangest feelings (or lack thereof) become normal in an abnormal situation. Is it normal to feel nothing? Yes. Is it normal to feel something, then nothing again, then some things, then all the things, and/or also nothing? Yes. It's not you, but the situation that is messed up. My first couple years, on holidays, I didn't join family (it hurt them a bit but they understood). I went to the gym and to the movies and took long walks. I opted out. Many would say, "fake it til you make it," but it wasn't for me. And now I've re-engaged with life, on my timeline, on my terms, and I'm glad I made the decisions I did (not that that is for everyone).

I consider myself well-adjusted to his death. (I feel like I start every post like that....) But. I still have an urge that remains. I want to post photos of him on FB so often. And I never allow myself - on his birthday only. And I look forward to that one "post" click all year. I hate the self-consciousness that would come if I were to post more often. Do people think I'm "stuck"? Do people think it's disrespectful to my boyfriend (who I love love love)? Is it awkward? Do people think I'm just trying to garner attention? Do people think it's a cry for help? Do people think I'm home crying? Would people think it would make my boyfriend feel insecure/unloved? What the real reason is: I want people to see his face. I want to be like, "This man lived! He was so great!" I want people to look at him. I want people to see him. I want to have conversations/comments that are about him. Nothing is about him anymore. Nothing. "Life is for the living," and all that, and I get it. Remembrance is so scarce, it seems. And everything about the dead ends up being interpreted in such a fraught way. It can't be casual. It can't be happy. Why not?! So frustrating. Or maybe I'm just too self-conscious and care too much what people think, I don't know.

I know many have weighed in on this so I'm sure what I have to say is just cumulative at this point, but I thought I'd lend my example. (This is just a brief timeline of transformative moments. I grieved deep, dark and hard.) Some moments: at about 5 months, one morning, I noticed I was smiling. I'm sure I'd smiled before that of course. But it felt monumental. I felt a tiny piece of simple happiness in existence. At about 14 months, a man kissed me. I sort of scream-sobbed into his face and ran away down the sidewalk (hopefully most won't go through this particular grief indignity!). (Many, many widows reengage romantically wayyyy before then, and some wayyyyyy after.) At about 18 months-ish, I started wanting something exciting and "changeful" to happen in my life. At about 2 years, I felt rejuvenated - I felt alive again. At 5 1/2 years, I have a full life, complete with "normal" happinesses and sadnesses and stressors. I never sob on the floor. I hardly ever sob at all. I honor DH and will always always love him, I was lucky to have something amazing with someone amazing. But even though it's (terribly, horribly, unbearably, tragically, destroyingly) sad, *I'm* no longer sad. I can even say that my life probably would have been much better and much happier if DH were alive, and still be happy with what and who I have, and not in a lesser way, if that makes sense - I know it doesn't SOUND logical, but.... (And even though grief certainly isn't linear, *for me*, the lows were NEVER as low as they were in the very beginning.)

For me, happiness is often about simplifying. Recognizing we are creatures. So I tried to give attention to basics - ate healthy and was very physically active (endorphins!). I tried to get sunshine and outdoor time. I tried to let dust settle and not rely on distraction - found calm, by doing things like sitting on a park bench alone looking at the sky or the river. But balanced it with stuff like reading and seeing friends. I had a routine/infrastructure that brought me around people (weekly attendance at synagogue, took a class, went to lectures, went to classes at the gym). I went to therapy weekly. I did what I wanted to do, even if I had no one to do it with (including traveling to Europe and the Middle East - and this was how I fully came alive again). I tried to be open to any event/interest, without bias or clinging to ideas of who I thought I was. I think we search for "big things" to fill a missing puzzle piece, but I think it's in the little decisions and little actions.

Yes. I don't come in as often to say it because when I was very early out, it upset me. I didn't want to feel better, I didn't want it to get better, because I felt like relief from the suffering or time passing meant he was even further away, and I wanted to be closer to him. I felt like acceptance and improvement for me was a betrayal, was giving my consent. Everyone's timeline is different, and clearly some people have very deep pain for a very long time, but I agree with Portside. For me, I felt like I was becoming myself again after about a year and a half and at about two years, I could recognize distinctly: I feel alive again. (I can't recommend therapy and physical activity strongly enough.)

I'm so sorry, SailOn. I'm at about 5 1/2 years out now and wanted to tell you - in grief, we monitor ourselves so closely, our "progress." I'll tell you this: I don't remember much from the first four months. It's a mercy. The "I was doing so much better" thing is a trap. I almost want to tell you to embrace your suffering, don't resist it, because if you do, and if you hope/expect to feel better (at least so quickly), you are setting yourself up for something. I found a lot of comfort as time went on in our mourning rituals. Shiva makes sense - you are devastated, you sit on the floor, your life has been razed, don't even try to function. During shloshim you are still in a dark, dark world, and those first 11-12 months.... The year isn't a cutoff - when I said kaddish for the last time that year, I felt exiled yet again, from the comforting influence of our Jewish grief "system." I don't mean this to be discouraging, but I didn't start to feel like myself again, start to feel alive again, for about two years. For some it's shorter, and for some it's longer. I'm thinking of you, and wishing you moments of solace.

You've already checked back in before I got here, but I'll add my two cents just in case.... To me, it sounds like it's not *just* "for him," that you've been craving a big change, or at least a change. So it's also for you. Back when I was two years out, I started saying that I needed a big big change. I contemplated moving out of the country, and was really ripe for *something*, was susceptible to suggestion probably - I remember saying I wished I was married to someone who HAD to move somewhere for work, somewhere I'd never want to go, like North Dakota or something, so I'd have no choice, I'd just have to go and make the best of whatever my new life was. A few months later, I was infatuated and then pregnant and moved to be with my now-daughter's father, to a very rural area near my hometown, from living for a couple decades in Boston and NYC. I'll be honest - when we fight, I tell him I left my whole life for him. But as time goes on, I accept more and more responsibility: I left my whole life for me, whether or not it was a good decision (and that's assuming we can ever know at the time of making a decision whether or not, in the long run, it will be the best course). A couple weeks ago, my therapist suggested I try less intellectualizing and more "living from the heart," and I responded: I discarded my life in an instant to live from the heart! I am a big proponent of going with your gut and embracing big change. But I'm not saying it's necessarily the right option for everyone, or for anyone. (If you decide to do it, if a person can learn someone else's lessons, and I'm not sure they can, and assuming it may be even slightly similar for you, be aware: leaving my world, my job, my friends, my radius of familiarity, my lifestyle, my community, my routine, my whole life - it was hard. It was really really really really hard - lonely, isolating, emotional. It'll be 3 years in a week or two, and I've gotta admit: I'm still very, very homesick and still adjusting.)

It's not likely to happen again that I say this, but here goes: I think Portside is 100% correct. I think it's that simple. Before DH, I was with a man for 8 years who cheated on me. When I found out, in that confrontation conversation (which ended up to be the last time I ever chose to speak with him or see him), he out of nowhere, totally unprompted told me I'm not attractive. Even assuming that is true (DH didn't agree and he was the most beautiful man I've ever seen, so...), why twist the knife? Bottom line: he's an ass. We can analyze anything, and get down to root causes and what he's really saying and projection and self-exoneration and all kinds of defense mechanisms, but it doesn't matter. It really doesn't matter why. It's an ugly thing to say, and someone who chooses to say that is ugly inside and it's a gift to be freed from it (not a gift he should be thanked for though!). He's an ass. And even if it's true to him, that doesn't mean it's true. Don't let it infiltrate your mind. It's so easy to let someone else's idea of us inform our own idea of ourselves. Don't do it! Listen to Portside: he's an ass!

It sounds like it's getting confusing because he seems about to trade benefits for a test of whether this is more, and you are getting confused because it seems you may like him back more than you initially did? I wouldn't stop hanging out with him. It sounds nice, and healthy.

Popping in from 5 1/2 years out to tell you that you will feel this way for perhaps a significant period of time. But you will not always feel this way, and that alone is a reason. Some may find a specific tangible reason (for many, it's kids, but I didn't have any), or some sort of inspiration, but honestly in the beginning months and year(s), to just keep surviving, even if you only take care of the bare minimum, is enough to get you to the point where, one day, it will not feel so bad. I can't stress enough: you won't always feel this way. Pain is all-encompassing when you are in it. I know that, I remember it. You don't see a future, except a giant overwhelming vacuum of loneliness and despair, you see only the absence of the one who was central to your existence, you don't see hope. You don't need to see it. You just need to keep going. You are not alone.

I'm 5 1/2 years out now, am in a relationship, have a 2 1/2 year old daughter, have moved, have a life that would be unrecognizable to DH. As this election cycle came to a close (PLEASE no political talk!), I found myself often thinking about how this would be the first president DH didn't live under. My birthday was the day before the election, and my mom suggested we go to a certain restaurant. It happened to be one of the only places that I haven't been to since the last time I went with DH (he was lovingly making fun of my (strangely large) earlobes, I remember, and then kissed them - my mom took a photo of us that is one of my favorites because he looks SO HIM in it - know what I mean? when a photo really captures someone more than others do....). And I honestly can't think of any other firsts. Remember back when everything was a first, or when firsts were not infrequent? And now I really believe I only have these two.... Life changes in an instant, and life changes gradually too, when you aren't noticing it. And what I feared and dreaded has come true: I remember saying that time was like wind on beach sand, erasing his footprints, all traces of his existence. He's gone. And what's perhaps saddest is that I'm not sad anymore. What happened will never be ok, but I'm ok. It's bittersweet I suppose. No big deep thoughts, just thoughts....

It's definitely ok to not be better, and to be frustrated by people rushing you to be where they want you to be. I didn't have children either, and felt I could not survive the unbearable pain of widowhood. At 5+ years out, I will tell you that you will not always feel as you do now, though I know that's no consolation at present. It took me a couple years to start to feel alive again. A friend of mine said it took him six. For some people it's far shorter. I too struggled with exactly what you said - nothing to look forward to, a future gone. Reenvisioning a life takes a long long time and it's a very GRADUAL process. I tried to force myself into healthy habits (such as getting sunlight, being physically active, etc.), but also allowed myself to have whatever feelings I had, no matter how bad (or good). Thinking of you and wishing you solace.

My sister struggled with learning disabilities while we were growing up, watching me and my brother excel with little to no effort, while she worked so, so hard to be borderline or less in certain areas. It's heartbreaking. She still carries it with her and feels deficient. I hate how much emphasis is put on academic achievement, such strange indices of "success" in a world that isn't aligned to that. My sister is a successful hairstylist who radiates love and is so magnetic, makes people happy and feel beautiful several times every single day of her life, while my brother and I are stressed out professionals wondering why in the world we're doing this! Our world really needs to get up to speed on what is valuable. Your kid's teacher, too - people can be so stingy with praise and so quick and easy with the criticism. I think many teachers don't truly understand learning disabilities. Edited to add: My parents are both retired teachers, so I don't mean this to be generally teacher-critical.

Sounds like he either needs a one-dose of reassurance of his (potential) position in your heart, that you are available to him and a future, or these are major red flags and you should run. I think jealousy and insecurity are natural parts of emotional life, but it doesn't seem like he's dealing with them in a healthy way perhaps? Maybe now that you two addressed the issues, things will be smooth and lovely. That's what I hope. It's possible though he's not emotionally mature enough to be with a widow.