Mizpah

It would bother me and I know exactly why - I hate being told what I am when I totally disagree and the facts are not as they're being portrayed. It's so frustrating! It's so unfair! I hope this just reinforces a feeling that you dodged a bullet in receiving this man's rejection, though rejection never feels like a gift. As we all know, things can change entirely in a moment. I hope that things will change for the better for you. I'm rooting for you.

Thinking of you. Cheering for you. Rooting for you. I have faith in your will power and determination and spunk.

In the months preceding DH's death, a close co-worker was going through fertility trouble, and it affected her deeply. I was her support person at work, and when DH died, it brought us even closer. I moved away and we're not as close now, but I will always be so grateful to her, she was hugely important in my life when I really needed that kind of haven and comfort and support. Really glad for you. Sometimes we are too quick to think that only widow(er)s can understand and be of help.

Yes. We lived in NYC, but he is buried on Long Island, only because some organization gave the plot out of kindness because of the shocking nature of his death and his parents took it. No connection to the place whatsoever. I ended up buying the plot next to him in my haze of grief. But I have a daughter now, with my current boyfriend. I used to visit once a month, and haven't since I moved away from the City two years ago now (I'm 4 1/2 years out). Loneliness is exactly what I feel for his grave, though I don't think of it as where "he" is at all. I can relate to your feeling.

Congrats, Serpico! Awesome

Sounds like a great demonstration of clarity and strength. I admire it.

I love this. I'm so glad you posted it. It reminds me of something I often forget, that in the very early days, before a week had passed even, before I became aware of YWBB, a man I'd never known before reached out to me. He'd worked very very closely with DH and I knew of him but had never met him. He found me at the burial and told me we had to meet soon, and before I could eat or think or speak, I was sitting in a restaurant with him. He told me a horribly painful story of how he'd lost his fiancee something like 10-15 years earlier, the week after he lost many of his best friends, right before his eyes, in a military incident. It was the first moment after losing DH in which I had anything close to hope or where I could think about anything other than the enormity of my own devastation and loss and DH's. The thought was something like, "If he can survive this, I can survive this." This man and his life became my mantra when I gave up. Our recovery paths were not nearly the same, as no two are or should be, but he gave me hope when I had none. The best thing for any widow or widower would be to be so lucky as I was, or she was to have Sean.

Not for me. In fact, I just had to calculate when the 6-month anniversary is. I'm 4 1/2 years out, plus a couple months. I decided early on that the day he died bears no relation to who he was and I wanted to forget the date, forget the date, not associate it with his so very alive him. A very good intention, but of course impossible because no matter how little his death has to do with him, it has a whole hell of a lot to do with me and my life - razed devastation. Apparently 6 months is a day before Halloween. I think 5 months stood out for me because I had to move from our apartment 5 months after he died because I couldn't afford it on my own. I think it all depends on the individual.

While I was pregnant, I read a book called Brain Rules for Baby - about how to do all the right stuff to foster stability so that your baby's/kid's brain can have the easiest chance of developing well blah blah blah. There was a chapter in it about the parents' relationship. I don't know if it's true or what study it was based on, but it is branded in my memory: the book states that studies have shown that a man creates 7 hours of housework for "his woman" on average per week, and that a woman saves "her man," again, 7 hours on average a week of work. It seems a bit much, but who knows.... Some men are much more helpful than others, but mine doesn't even seem to notice socks placed a foot from the laundry basket instead of in it. That being said, I am incapable (at present) of, say, replacing a furnace and heating system, or installing a ventilation fan in a bathroom and I'm glad I don't "have to" mow the lawn, so I think perhaps the "big jobs" that take hours and days, or strength I do not possess, it gets balanced out. I hope. I don't know. But wow, that little tidbit really stuck with me.

So young. I'm so sorry.

Back to the original topic: I was so heartbroken when Lady Mary lost her husband in the show - sobbing, and I very, very rarely cry. Feel so bad for her now. Even though we went through it, I can't imagine those early feelings. I'm so glad to have forgotten so much of the early days.

Sorry, all (serpico included!) - I obviously have some hangups and issues about terminology based on my (and many of my young wid friends') complicated situation (example: in my State, DH was on my insurance based on our legal status and I was allowed to make medical decisions, but I wasn't allowed to take him off of my medical insurance or to get his medical records to prove that he was dead so he could be off my insurance, because we weren't married - dealing with the logistical aftermath of his death was absurd and nightmarish, and felt like several slaps in the face when I could least handle them). I'm clearly a bit oversensitive to this (still, 4 1/2 years later!) and that's no one's fault here, and I'm sorry for inflicting it on you! Carry on. I'll be chill, I promise.

Same here. Widowhood is very complicated in new relationships, I've found, for me. But guilt has not been an aspect of it - it's funny, because I think that's the big feeling non-widows would expect or maybe even we would. I was long-distance in my new relationship, but we moved in together about 2 years ago. It was a hard, hard transition, but I'm happy to report that hanging in there was the right choice and things are looking up! Go us! Congrats! Glad you're feeling good and having goodness in your life!!!!

I've known two couples who did. In one, they were both professors, and in that profession, you go where the (tenured) job is. One got a position in Boston and the other in Chicago. They spent every or every other weekend together, and it worked for decades (they're still together). In the other couple, the wife got a job in Scotland and she went - he stayed in the US. They got divorced.

Not arguing - making a point. And this is exactly my point: it doesn't matter if you don't get it. Why in the world would I want to have this meaningless conversation repeatedly? It is of little importance to anyone but me. And yeah, widow/widower - it sucks. Would be better if we just had one, genderless word for it.

Upstate NY

Technically, yeah, sure. But here are two examples. One's a metaphor. I don't eat meat. But I eat fish. But I don't eat shellfish. When it comes up, I could just deliver those three sentences. But it's often/usually easier to just say I'm a vegetarian. Why do I need to go into details and explain? Is it technically a "lie"? Yeah, sure. But it matters more to me than anyone else, and if they're someone I'm close with and it's relevant, then they know. Here's the other example: my DH and I were not married. We were legal domestic partners, registered/licensed with the State. We wore wedding bands. We introduced each other as husband and wife (him when we'd known each other two weeks: "I've been married to you my whole life - I just hadn't found you yet"). I changed my name (legally). He called my parents Mom and Dad and my brother and sister his brother and sister. On our anniversaries and birthdays, etc., he bought me cards for his "wife." Were we married? No. Is it technically a "lie" when I say he was my husband/DH and that I'm a widow? Yes. But, like the details of what I eat, it matters more to me than anyone else, and everyone who really knows me knows that we weren't married. I call myself a widow, and I called myself spouse and wife before he died. It fits for me. It fit for us. I thought about changing my terminology after he died, but it seemed like an insult and a demotion to him. It may not fit for you, but it certainly does for me and the people in my world, and I'd rather be technically false to the world than essentially false to him/his memory/what we shared.

I think the question really is what marriage means in this context and what would motivate you (and/or him) to want to marry. If it's for legal protection in the terrible case of "what if" that we all know occurs - the right to make medical decisions, to inherit, etc., etc., then it makes sense and it doesn't matter where you live. If it's for a merging of lives, then it doesn't really make sense because financially and residentially (it's telling me that's not a word, oh well) you are separate rather than joint. If it's for romantic reasons, that you love each other so much you want to be as joined as is currently possible, then it makes sense. Long distance marriage never made sense to me, but it's not like you're a continent or two away, it's 30 minutes. No one knows the answer but you. And maybe not even you. Life! Seriously, where did simplicity go?!

No!!! First, it just means that you've coped well and have created a new life for yourself. But more importantly, that question is just futile self-torture (and I'm talking to myself as much as I am to you). I have a daughter who's about a year and a half, and DH has been gone 4 1/2 years. Every now and then, I feel like I "shouldn't" miss him, because missing him means I wish he wasn't dead, and wishing he wasn't dead would result in me never meeting my daughter's father, and then she'd never exist. I mean, really, someone slap me! This is insane! And yet our minds take us there. I'm glad you're happy.

This is exactly what I thought of as I read your post. You are asking the exact same questions the author asked. I think you'd like reading the book. His young son died at a very young age after a life of lots of suffering - he had a disease/condition, I believe. [This may be of no help, because I am of a totally different belief system from you, but: I've never believed in Gd. When DH died, I started going to synagogue (we were both Jewish - he believed in Gd, I didn't). I went partly because I wanted to say the mourner's prayer for him, as is custom, knowing that it meant something to him, and I cared more about him than myself at the time. I also went because I didn't want to go straight home on Friday evenings after work because we used to be so excited to get home to each other and I had nothing to return to. But what I found there was just what you describe: community. I also found the comfort of ritual, and of symbol and meaning, and found that, though I'd been very anti-religion before, even in the absence of belief in Gd, there is so much in religion and religious tradition that is about human life, human need - the stories and lessons can be metaphors and guides even without the Gd aspect. Even if there is a Gd, so much of RELIGION (religion as apart from Gd) is mythology, created by humans for human need, the human life cycle, the human psyche/soul/mind/heart. I glossed over the things that didn't "jive with" my beliefs, and I took from it what I needed, what nourished and helped me. Maybe there's some way that you can take the good from it and sorta "daze out" during the stuff that upsets you or that you find useless. Or maybe you need to cut back a little. I don't know. But I hope you find some peace.]

Yes! Love this book. Had completely forgotten about it. Know what else is good? Philip Roth's American Pastoral. I heard they're turning it into a movie. I'd read it before they do. It's not beautiful, but it's great.

Ever read anything by Jonathan Franzen? The Corrections is the best in my opinion, but Purity is the most recent. Edited to add: President Obama said yesterday his favorite book of 2015 is Fates and Furies, by Lauren Groff (who is actually (!) a friend of a friend. Nominated for National Book Award. The story of a marriage, told focused on the man's perspective first, then the woman's. Not the most likable characters, but extremely well-written, and has/inspires insights about marriage/relationships and their complexities, tragedies, and beauties. http://graphics.wsj.com/best-of-the-best-books-2015/

I don't believe in that stuff either, but that is super weird.

When deciding between heart and mind, perhaps it's best to go with your gut. (I'm continuing the metaphor, but in reality, though I also use words like heart and mind and gut and soul, I think it's all words for brain. We contain contradictions. We understand so little - barely even ourselves, if that.) I think your criterion is a good one!

I'm not at all pleased to report that this is an aspect of widowhood that, for me (at 4 1/2 years out), appears to be permanent.