Mizpah

Easy to say and I know difficult to stomach his possible reentry, but I think anyone with half a brain is going to realize "it's him, not you," that you are classy and responsible. I have no advice for the aggravation, but keep your head held high.

Is it though? You say "for the kids" and because your parents are religious. Does being officially/legally married matter to YOU? Maybe the answer is yes, and that's fine, but it's not necessarily so for many, and that's fine. The right thing to do could be to protect you (and I'm thinking your kids here too/mainly) financially, while also sharing a life and love.

I hope you're not still feeling guilty. I always say and believe that nothing we do post-death can change anything about what we shared with our lost loves. It doesn't reflect on the love. It doesn't take away from it. As much as we sometimes wish we weren't in the beginning, you are alive in a world without him. Grief puts many things on pause, but tiny glimmers come through, and part of that is human connection. There's nothing wrong with flirtation. My therapist told me: "Allow yourself good feelings." It was hard for me in the beginning. But wise.

The answer to all questions about repeating cycles, for me, are: go to therapy. I know some are not into it, or have had a bad experience with a not-great therapist, but I think having a place to go where the focus is on bettering the future and yourself and how you feel by working through your current life and your past.... For me, therapy is the answer. Even therapists I haven't totally loved at first have helped me improve aspects of my life and feel better.

I'm usually in the minority on this one, but I want to be with someone who can be open with me about their past, in that they have confronted it sufficiently to be able to discuss it without it being a fraught issue, and that they are truly able to share not just their life with me, but themselves - who they are, their story. I find "leave the past in the past" to be an evasion. I wouldn't refuse the person with whom I am most intimate knowledge of who I am and what my life has been, no matter how difficult to face. That being said, it's different for all of us, and I'm glad you know what you need, how you're going to proceed, and what you will or will not accept. That's really the most important thing.

You were robbed of what could have been, and he was robbed of his life - and you loved him, so you are not just grieving for yourself, but for him. You don't need to justify yourself. Not here. Your grieving may be different from many here, but it doesn't mean you're not grieving.

I wish we could tell you that there is a way to relieve the pain. For much of this heartache, just simply surviving it, nothing more, is the best course (in the beginning). I always refer to it as "bearing the unbearable," and to me, the fact that you're so emotionally overwhelmed that you are letting out wordless sound - it seems a perfectly accurate way of grieving. Things that helped me (and it's different for everyone)(I too lost DH extremely suddenly): therapy twice a week for 8 months, and then weekly; getting outdoors and in sunshine; writing - I wrote TO him but I also wrote about him, desperately trying to get down every piece of information about him, every memory, every trait, describe it all before time interfered; regular cemetery visits; seeing his family; being physically active (I ran a lot and it helped me feel a bit stable); eating healthy, not drinking and hydrating (for the first few months, I barely ate, but then I got on track and it really helped me feel more stable than I otherwise would have); leaning on fellow widows (I found a few women on my timeline and 5+ years later, they are some of my best friends, because they get it, every part of it); letting myself talk about it - him and grief - as much as I needed to. Use us. This board is here. We all walk beside, ahead, behind, you - we all get it. Wishing you moments of solace.

I don't know what to say, so I will just tell you I see you and love you even though I don't know you and I wish so much that you will happen upon some relief from this pain.

Oh, Blue. I'm so angry for you - and so glad you are or were in therapy. I wish the positivity cult would incorporate facts/truth/realism. Anything can have a positive bent, but delusion/denial helps no one/no situation. I'm so sorry. I know we all have an allergy to the word "strong," but I don't. When people tell me I'm strong, I feel like, "Hell yeah. That's right." We've survived something that feels so unbearable. And you're doing and have done so much on your own. Raising a small person with little aid, alone, requires so much strength (and patience and self-sacrifice). Surviving widowhood, alone, requires so much inner strength. I'm in the midst of the former, and did the latter (I'm 5+ years out now), and I hope you won't be offended by me saying that, as I was reading your story, my reaction was to feel that you are so strong. Not because you haven't been defeated in moments, not because you didn't need help - you did need help, and didn't get it. It's that whole "you can't control what happened, but you control how you deal with it" or whatever. I admire your outlook and I'm so glad you're feeling hopeful.

I see this - him smiling in the sun

There's no way to know this in theory or hypothetically. You'll see in time and with experiences. I was one of those people who swore I would never love again and got angry when it was suggested it was a possibility. I believed it fully, deeply. I dated a man who was nice. I had a little fling. I had a little crush. But nothing truly touched me, even when the other party was wonderful and did develop feelings. And then, meeting someone for the first time, someone who I thought of as only a friend and grief buddy (after texting for months and never even having romance cross my mind), I was shocked to find I still did have the capacity for big feelings. Real feelings. Natural, unexpected feelings. Don't force it or seek it. Easier said than done. And I totally agree with the others that things can develop over time that are just as wonderful (or more so) as the whole "love at first sight" nonsense that we are acculturated to desire.

This is so lovely. I thought I was pretty sentimentally dead inside, but you got me teary, Rob, and made me want to go home and write my own - inspiring.

While I get what MrsDan is saying and agree to an extent (certainly that it's petty to get worked up about your own birthday), I *DO* get "making a big deal out of" your own birthday, even as an adult. Life is beautiful and to be celebrated in my mind. My life, your life, my lover's life, DH's life. The anniversary of the day someone is born is an opportunity to make them feel special. (Now, I'm coming at this from the perspective of someone who never used to care, but then DH loved his own birthday and we celebrated it for a week each year, and loved mine too, and it got a bit contagious - I insisted that NG and I go to St. Lucia to celebrate his 40th last year, even though we're broke - you only turn 40 once, you're important to me, I want to celebrate you!)

Agree again - sensitive to your feelings, or sensitive to a feeling of "competing" or feeling threatened/uncomfortable? I think in most situations with new people post-death, the key is a balance between being open and being ABLE to be open with them about feelings about our lost loves and their deaths, on the one hand, and on the other hand, making them know, by the way we communicate about it all and how we treat them and the memory of our lost love, that they are NOT competing, that feelings about DH/DW do not take away from feelings about them.... But that's just my take. From someone who (is a widow but also who) has in the past with my current boyfriend (a widower) been made to feel sensitive to a feeling of competing or feeling not as loved as or not as good as DW.

If he's interested, I think you only have to open the door a little, and he'll feel comfortable maybe taking a step, as minor as a smile or a "hi" perhaps. If he's not interested, that might test/reveal it also.

Oh gosh, that's intense. In a slightly different way, I can relate: my anniversary with DH is the same as the anniversary of the day NG and I met, just separated by some years. It's different, like I said, but I can relate to a feeling divided. I agree with Portside in asking you: what are YOUR feelings on this? It's so individual. For example, at about five years out, the death date doesn't affect me the way I thought it would. That being said, it's by design to an extent - as soon as he was gone, I knew I didn't want to associate him with death, that I wanted to think of him and smile and think of him for who he was, not the ended-too-soon nature of his life. Because of that attitude, strangely, even though it's about celebrating him, DH's birthday is often harder for me - because he should be celebrating life and more and more birthdays, perhaps, I don't know. (I do nothing out of the ordinary on the death day. I try to insult the day by not giving it any power (except the first year, when I "celebrated" having survived a year of something so unbearable).) Do you and NG live together? If not, will there be any part of that day you will be apart, that you can use for you? What a strange coincidence.

While I think you're getting wise advice, I also know that sometimes we have to do the crazy ill-advised thing that just might be great. You said the divorce started early this year? So it's been almost a year? I think we all have opinions that come from our own experiences, that it reflects us as much as the person's situation we contemplate, so I'll tell you that, when I met DH, I was 4-5 months out of an 8-year relationship that ended with my ex cheating on me. DH had *just* separated from his wife, and they hadn't even begun the divorce. Any person would've told either one of us to steer clear of the other and all the issues. But it was the most calm, lovely, healthy, beautiful relationship he or I (or anyone we knew) had ever known. (Now, neither of us had kids, so there wasn't that complication, and neither of our breakups were particularly messy in the aftermath.) If you find yourself unable to stop yourself from saying something, or if you decide that, for you, it's the best course, just be prepared for the possibility that you could be hurt. Who knows? He could reciprocate your feelings. But it's possible that he's just viewing this as sex. Good luck!!! Keep us updated!

Since getting pregnant and having a daughter post-death with widower boyfriend, I've had a recurring dream that DH comes back, and believes my daughter is ours. My boyfriend is always not home when DH comes. DH picks up my daughter and sits holding her. Boyfriend comes back, and is relieved that DH is there - now he can get away and get rid of me! My feelings are always extremely mixed. Sometimes I'm overjoyed to be with DH. Other times I'm heartbroken that boyfriend is so happy to be relieved of what I now (in the dream) now is what he feels is just his duty to be with me. Mine is clearly about the complexities of two widows having a child/new family/new relationships.

I'm so sorry for your loss. We all get the enormity of your feelings. My boyfriend is a widower (I'm 5+ years out and he's a bit less), and, just from that very small sample set (him and me), I think that being a widower is even more isolating than being a widow. I think he, without realizing, fell to that stereotype or pressure of "being a man" and not revealing/indulging feelings. He coped with his fiancee's death by being a workaholic (to avoid going home I think) and drinking probably a bit too often (to be around people at the bar and avoid going home, and to take the edge off) and not talking about things. You will have moments of peace and clarity, I believe, increasingly. But the pain and loneliness is inevitable and huge. People say the only way out is through, and unfortunately, suffering is our task in the beginning. Doing what is healthy helps, so even if you don't feel the effects of, say, keeping up with your friends or being physically active, it's good to keep doing it. Your body can take care of you rather than working against you, and take any goodness you can get. We all get it and are here for you.

Completely. My therapist back when DH first died said that even far out, our unconscious will react to the dates even without us realizing. And every year, even this past one, at five years, his birthday in February and the dates of the accident and death in April... it was there, even as my life has changed so much and is fairly full. It was there, and I can't describe it better than that, because as I try to write it, all I can do is picture the view from my commute home in the country, and feel that wordless feeling, looking out over twilight fields as spring develops.

Oh man, imissdow, sounds like you were relieved from a lot of further instances of getting caught in the middle of an impossible situation. I'm sorry. This has got to hurt. But eek. Definitely for the best, it seems.

I was going to say this on the not wanting anything thread, but it's different, and not even really widow-related, but I'm here and you're here, and my therapist had to cancel today, so.... Prepare for long-winded babbling. I was 32 when DH died. We lived in the City and I was very career-oriented. We had plans to start our family and maybe move to the suburbs or country, but it was still a few months away. We had exciting hopes and plans that we'd already begun on - study (we read a ton together and were always engrossed in discussion, and attended lectures constantly), travel, family, etc. And we were madly in love - that was our primary activity really, being in love and being amazed by how in love we were. Then sudden death. Everything stopped - my life was on pause, I'd say for a good two years. I worked but didn't care, though I was promoted and involved in an exciting new work thing. I no longer worked nights or weekends, when I used to be up surrounded by papers and mumbling half-thoughts, like a mad scientist working on law stuff. The inspiration was gone. My reading tastes (and frequency of reading) changed. I took classes, but it was all centered around him - trying to get closer to who he was. It wasn't that burning innate curiosity and hunger for learning I'd previously had. Of course. My "other half" had died. Everything changed. Old inspirations no longer were inspiring. Old habits no longer made sense. Old goals had no relevance. After a couple years, I got involved with a widower and we had a baby. I moved to the country to be with him and raise her. Now, I'm a harried working mom with a long commute and no money. So my problem has a few different aspects: (1) The old "me" is gone - who is the new me, and what does she want? What is she interested in? Where to direct any curiosity or interest or "life force" or thought or energy?, (2) Even if I knew the answer to 1, I wouldn't have time or money. Time especially. The only free time I have is after 9:30 p.m. or before I wake up for work (and I'm so tired at both of these times, and need to do cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, etc.) (how do I even figure out #1 without the freedom to figure it out?), (3) I feel like I've achieved all the things I set out to, and even some I hadn't (I had the iconic intellectual life in Boston I've always dreamed of - all cobblestones and autumn breezes and books and professors and lectures, I had the iconic NYC life I'd always dreamed of - ambition and stress and super fun and reading the paper on Sunday mornings with tea in a sunny apartment and nights at wine bars and running and working out and brunches and long walks in city streets, I'm having the iconic country life - apple orchards and produce from local farms and hiking and camping and fishing and backyard bonfires by the river, I'm having the motherhood experience.) Now what? What will sustain me? What will feed me? What will inspire me? What will give my life substance and meaning? (Yes, my daughter, but she is her own person - and I am still mine.) Because my life is consumed by working and commuting and raising my daughter, there's really nothing left, except this gnawing feeling like I want more, like there's something missing, like I need to be doing something fulfilling. My life right now is all about obligations (work, and more expenses than income) and responsibility and other people (tending to my relationship, raising my daughter). Is it selfish and spoiled to want this "more"? What would satisfy me? What am I looking for? Does it have to do with DH's death (with him, for the first time in my life, I felt calm, contented)? If I need to do something "more," how do I find the time in the midst of an impossible balancing act (and that one's directed toward the working parents of young kids or people who've done it)? I feel trapped and stifled and lost, like there's something I need and I don't know what it is or how to achieve it. And now that I'm writing it, I feel like perhaps this has more to do with becoming a mother than with widowhood perhaps - like in widowhood, who you are goes on hold, everything is paused, you're in service to something else (in widowhood, mourning, and in parenthood, to your child's needs).... Ok, babbling over.

That sounds exhausting and kind of upsetting. But I think it's really awesome about your son. It seems like it would be so easy for him to be sad that day every day and to want to retreat like a turtle and lick wounds each time. I love that he wants to celebrate and have a huge party. It's some kind of sweet triumph of life over darkness. Maybe I'm reading too much into it, and maybe it's simply that kids love parties and birthdays, but I think it's cool....

Are you in an area where there are meetup groups? Some of my friends have done stuff through that, and have had really rewarding experiences and gained great friendships. I think all of us are lonely and searching for our tribe, even unwidowed people and people not going through breakups. I think there's a lot of community that we're all missing. What about outdoor time/sunshine and physical exercise? Maybe force yourself into a routine of it, like every day at ___ o'clock, take a 25-minute walk - for me, sunshine, long walks and runs by the river brought big mental/emotional health benefits.

Yes, it is normal. It is hard to be patient with yourself when you are suffering so acutely and don't want to hurt, just as an instinct, but remember - this is one of the hardest things a person goes through in life. It will hurt, badly and for a good chunk of time. It won't be that you feel a teensy bit better every single day - there are going to be times when you feel worse. Yes, it is normal. The situation is not normal. Sending love.