Mizpah

So my "chapter 2" started "fast and furious" - super exciting, lustful, intense. It quickly got serious and ROUGH. I became pregnant, moved hundreds of miles, changed jobs, left ALL my friends and big social life behind, went from urban to rural life, we jumped into cohabitation after knowing each other for so little time. I had routines (my gym/classes, my running schedule, my weekly synagogue attendance, my Hebrew classes, seeing my in-laws, monthly visits to the cemetery) that kept me afloat in my old life. Here, I was adrift. Now I'm a working mother, an attorney, with a commute that's an hour each way, and am poverty-stricken by the costs of daycare, buying a car. His son did NOT take to our baby well, at all - hostility and violence. Etc., etc. Those of you on here have heard this story from me many times I'm sure. The point: the strain on a new relationship between two VERY different people was extreme. The first year plus was absolutely horrific. Near-constant, vicious fighting. I moved out a couple times. Regretting the move. Cursing the day I met him. Terrible insults by him against me. Disagreeing on every single thing, big and small. The hurt has been deep. I stayed for many good and bad reasons, including that it was entirely unthinkable for me not to have my daughter 100% of the time. Fast forward. We have learned each other to a much greater extent. He is kind to me. We have date nights. He buys me flowers on occasion. We're getting way better at parenting together. We go on hikes and bring the kids to the beach, we go camping as a family, we do family functions together, we have routines that are sweet and comfortable - we do the things that "normal" families do. The family is coming together - even his son is adjusting better now that the baby is becoming more of an interactive person. I'm glad I didn't give up. The problem though: I can't seem to let go of the hurt. Whenever the slightest thing happens that's unpleasant or even hints at hostility or neglect, it's an avalanche in my heart and head of all the past hurts. Like I said, he's good to me now. The jerk he was is not the person he currently is. Now I'M the problem - my inability to let go of what was and appreciate what is. Has anyone ever been in a relationship that went through a hard period, but then recovered? How did you let go of the hurt to focus on the present and let it be as good as it can/should/could be?

These people are fools. I can't imagine ever telling someone who just lost the love of their life to focus on the positive. It's an insane thing to say. In the first few months, I adopted the "nod and smile" approach to all statements that were mind-blowingly dumb. On the outside: nodding and smiling. On the inside: "WTF?! Are you f'ing kidding me? The center of my world is DEAD!!!!!" Invisible ear muffs. Grieving is the best time to stop hearing. You need to take all your dictates from inside yourself right now. There are definitely little pieces of wisdom all over the place to cobble together, little verbal and philosophical life rafts here and there to grasp onto for dear life, but there is way more idiocy floating around. Honestly, grieving requires so much strength and resilience because you have to focus entirely on the negative. Being in denial will not help you through it. Being honest, having clarity and bravery, will. F the positivity cult. There will come a time when you are naturally open again to the beauty in life, but for now, grieving is your task.

How was the rest of the day, Donna?

I think he doesn't like feeling like he's competing with a dead person. I know many don't understand the sentiment, but I do. I'm not proud to admit it, but I'm just gonna be honest - I've certainly had moments where I'm consumed by jealousy of my boyfriend's late fiancee and what they shared, and feel like second best. Not because I don't think well of myself, but because I know the love I shared with DH, so I can imagine the love they shared. I think about her all the time. I think about how perfect they were for each other, I think about his high regard for her, I think about how she was described by everyone as "a ray of sunshine." You get the picture. I think we forget sometimes, becuase it's not easy to be a widow(er), but it's not easy to be with a widow(er). It hurts at times. It's not irrational run of the mill jealousy or insecurity. It's highly rational, in my opinion. His not wanting her to be on the board is one thing, but to not understand the jealousy, I don't know. It's important to combat it and to live gracefully and maturely with it, but to refuse to recognize that it happens and that it's natural and doesn't necessarily mean someone is insecure.... For example, I have DH's name tattooed on my body. Yes, boyfriend has me, my body, shares a life with me, and DH just has his name on me. Still. Think. How would I have felt, pre-widowhood, about being with someone who had someone's name tattooed on their body? Jealous! Bothered. Hurt deep inside somewhere, even if irrational (everyone has a history, etc.). My point: there's gotta be a balance between standing up for ourselves and our rights and our needs on the one hand, and understanding other perspectives and being sensitive on the other. Again, as always, I'm babbling.

Yes! This makes me so happy. I'm so glad you're on this new path. I hope you're walking with pride every moment of the day. Rock on, lady!

I love this! It's awesome! And partly I love it because it's just like what happened to me! I traveled alone, and while I was having my solo adventure, I remembered me, and I came alive again. One afternoon, I sat at a cafe on the beach (like feet in the sand on the beach) and instead of having lunch, I had champagne and ice cream for lunch, and I smiled, looking crazy, staring at the sea, feeling euphoric. It's like once you resign yourself, suddenly it happens. We are lucky, at least in that way. Congratulations! No jinxing - it's not a thing. I'm happy for you. Sending excited awkward silly high fives.

I love your post. I remember when DH first died, I kept thinking I wanted to somehow become him. It was one of those insane early days thoughts that make you feel like you're really lost it and are never going to snap back to reality. Now, I realize, it's the goal - to love them and honor them by taking into yourself their best qualities, continuing to admire them and emulate them, and re-engaging with life, feeling again, seeing beauty again. For me, leaving active grieving was about crossing that line between the living and the dead - for so long, I'd felt like I was hanging out as close to him as possible, trying to not be among the living. Finally, I felt alive again, despite at times not wanting to - coming back into the land of the living.

I would write this down, and give it to him written. If he can't understand the bonds of friendship and the concept of paying things forward, I think he needs to be nudged (forced?) to. What would I do? I wouldn't lose a relationship that was amazing over... almost anything. But I wouldn't give it up. My boyfriend/BabyDaddy once told a friend (not me) that it's hard for him being with me, because of the love I have for DH. And he's a widower. I think we need to give our partners as great a latitude of understanding as they do in being with us. It's NOT easy (I know this because he's a widower and it's just not easy to think about his past life and think about how happy he was and that I'm some consolation prize that he never wanted, that he'd rather be with her - that's not the whole story, but I'd be lying to myself if I said it wasn't true in a respect). Anyway. I have widow friends I met on YWBB who I now see in real life. Some of them have new partners and children. Often we don't even TALK about our DHs. Or we'll just refer to it in a sick widow way ("ouch, I stubbed my toe." "oh, poor you, that's just like the time my husband died"). The biggest thing we do for each other is cheer each other on in progress. But it's permanent. DH is dead forever. He should live longer than me. So the grief is forever, even when it takes on other forms than longing and yearning. If your boyfriend thinks you're stuck, that's one thing, but not wanting you to associate with certain people - I don't know. If it takes away your time and attention from, say, fun adventures he's trying to have with you, or if you're sitting at the dinner table talking to us instead of him, but I have a feeling that's not what's going on. I try to see jealousy as a compliment. I'm babbling. I left YWBB a bit earlier than a year out. I came back about a year ago. BECAUSE my life had "moved on" - I have a daughter who's a bit over a year. I live with her father and love him fully and completely. Why do I come back? Widows are some of the strongest, most inspiring, kindest people I've ever been unlucky enough to know. It's good company. You don't just get loss, you get humanity, you get maturity, you understand what matters in life. The best pocket people in the world! You should let him read all these responses. (Is that a breach of your privacy? Maybe.) My widow friends and I are each other's new partners' biggest fans. When they deserve it

That's awesome. I'm so glad. May it continue! xoxo

I'm posting again, because the last time I did, it was a photo from when DoubleWidowBaby was just a newborn. She's now a year and three months. Would you ever guess from that insanely happy face that her parents are both widows?!

Sending thoughts and hugs. Every year on DH's birthday, I have dinner with people who knew him - we tell memory stories, and toast to him. Maybe next year you could do that?

You don't have a home right now. You feel homeless and exiled. This is totally normal. Wishing you were dead is totally normal (as long as you don't plan on doing anything about it!). Feeling like you're just existing is totally normal. Feeling at home, that you're doing more than existing/surviving, not wishing you were dead - these are all states of being that simply take time to reach. Right now, you have no skin, everything hurts, you feel out of place in the world. Keep writing. Everyone here knows exactly what you mean and how you feel and we are with you in spirit.

Just keep hanging on, and being honest. Let yourself hurt. Grief is a long long path, with many instances of exactly what you're describing: "I'd been doing so well." I can't tell you how many times I started sentences like that. Some ended, "and then I was a crazy sobbing person on the subway." Or, "and then I couldn't do anything but stare at the river all day." You are going to have days where you feel victorious, like a warrior, so proud of surviving, and even able to smile. You're going to have days where you think how proud he'd be of you for how you are handling things. Days where you can turn to the light and do such strong healthy things. And there are going to be dark days. Days where you want to give up, even when you don't even know what giving up means. There are going to be days of feeling physically sick and incapable of facing life and totally overwhelmed with what you must do and what you've chosen to do. Like someone said, this IS handling it. Giving in to the good days and giving in to the bad days. We're all with you, we're all with each other, little pocket people who, even though we aren't in your particular circumstances, know your feelings. Some who have done it and come out "the other side," though it really is lifelong in ways, and some who are right where you are. Lean on that knowledge. Keep bearing the unbearable. You're doing great.

Your post is so beautiful and moving. It's clear that the love you shared was extraordinary. I said so many times in the early days that I was the luckiest woman alive and still was, and so many people thought I'd gone bonkers for saying that, because I so obviously wasn't so very lucky or else he'd be alive, but I knew what I meant, and you do too. I was 32 when DH died, and we had had 3 years together only - he's now been gone longer than we were together (how is this possible?!). (Some who'd been married long and were older felt that it would be easier, or that the amount of time was diminishing in some way, but the impact he had on me and my life, the long long future we looked forward to so much.... I have no point but to state that I suppose.) Our dog died less than a week after DH. We had been about to start a family, but hadn't yet. And we too lived in a world of blissful devotion/obsession/adoration. I wrote compulsively after he died, beginning the next morning, and filled tens of journals with memories and stories and pieces of him, and other journals with my feelings and "process." My current boyfriend and the father of my daughter is a widower - he was in his mid-30s when his fiancee died. Her children, that he'd been raising with her, were taken from him when she died. He too had a family and then suddenly nothing. We have been tasked with bearing the unbearable. The pain in the beginning does not feel survivable. And even once years pass and the pain is something that you learn to live with and necessarily lessens, it remains incomprehensible, the fact of their non-existence. My advice: grieve hard. I think it's the best way to, as you put it, rebuild a happy life. I think we reemerge more healthy and genuine and able to truly embrace life again when we allow ourselves to hit the lowest of the depths. Thinking of you, wishing you moments of solace.

"For some reason" I think minimizes it - for many reasons. Don't be so hard on yourself and so dismissive of your feelings. There are lots of reasons you're where you are, and maybe some are unhealthy, but I'm sure some are healthy. I think it's smart to be cautious given what you're saying, that you're afraid that you're going to only be into guys who will be damaging to you or your life. Maybe you're just not ready yet, and that's ok. Or maybe you're ready but fear is keeping you from "jumping in" to life, or re-life.... I have a bunch of young widow friends from YWBB who were on my timeline and about my age (20s and early 30s). Some of us are in new relationships - a couple of us even have kids with new people - while some of us, like you, haven't even had sex with a new partner. The comparing, it's almost impossible not to do, but don't give in to it too much. We all have different circumstances - our old partners, our old relationships, the dating pool, our readiness level, what we want from the next phase of our life, whether we're ready to handle being with someone, willingness to deal with dating, etc. - the varying circumstances are endless. And I totally agree with Sugarbell - some people have "moved on" to other partners who are way "behind" in grieving than some who haven't even dated at all. Being with a new person doesn't necessarily mean you're doing ok and are grieving right or are healed/healing. I forced myself to date before I was ready. It's not for everyone, but it was good for me to do - go through the motions, make myself face some things. My answer to everything is therapy. I think it's the best thing any human can do for themselves, especially widows.

Hi love! You're not pathetic. I can relate to the thinking in retrospect that you may have had a co-dependent relationship. It makes me wonder - can a co-dependent relationship be super healthy? I say yes, until one of the people dies. My DH and I were obsessed and so happy and had such good influences on each other and each other's lives. There were no bad sides to the co-dependency, if that's what it was, until he was dead. (It also makes a new relationship with a lot more space/distance and independence feel lacking, which is an adjustment that hurts.) Anyway! I forced myself to date before I was ready. It's generally seen as a bad idea, but for me it was a good step. Almost a fake it til you make it thing, but I didn't fake it - I was totally straightforward about my complete emotional unavailability. But it helped me reenter the social/romantic world. I don't know if that's right for you, or anyone, but it really helped me. I'm thinking of you. I'm sorry you're feeling stuck. You're not pathetic!!!! You're awesome. You're reassembling your life in the time and in the order that is best for you. You should be proud.

I mention it almost casually now, early (not that I'm dating, but with new friends/co-workers). The longer you put it off, the harder it is, and the more it seems you were hiding it. There are poor widows and widows who are financially stable - I think saying you're a widow doesn't necessarily say, "Take advantage of me for my money." As long as you play it smart, I think you're ok, but I don't know. I could be wrong.

OMG that FACE!!!!! She's adorable. I have a 15-month-old, so I know the exhausting but awesome thing. I'm glad that opportunities are presenting themselves. It sounds like you're doing so well - given, you know.... It must be beautiful to see pieces of him in her. Thinking of you and cheering you (both) on!

Thinking of you today. My widow friends and I, on each other's birthdays, instead of "Happy birthday!," say "Birthday!," so: Birthday, my dear. Thinking of you and wishing you moments of solace and comfort.

Foreign is a good way to put it. Just last night I had the strangest experience. I was in bed, widower BabyDaddy had just fallen asleep next to me. My head on his chest, knowing he was asleep, I whispered, "I feel like we're strangers." It just came out, like it didn't pass through my brain, it just happened. I live with this man every day. We're raising a child together. We live together. He was with me when I gave birth. We have sex. We go hiking, and talk, and watch TV, and plan, and eat, and sleep, all together. He's the person I talk most to. Strangers? His face is as familiar to me as my own. With DH, within hours, I felt like I'd known him forever and that we were extraordinarily fitting, we were perfect for each other - he called the day we met "the day the angels looked down and said 'perfect.'" (I called him Romeo hahahahaha.) I had it really easy. This one is work. I think any relationship, after the kind I had with DH, would be more "foreign" than ours was, because nothing was more instantly or more intensely home - I don't think anything could be.

My first birthday without him I stayed at a small hotel on a river and sat on the balcony in a blanket for hours, had silence and solitude, did some writing and reading, but mostly just stared at river and mountains. It felt right for me. The second year I went to the opera alone - I wanted to be alone but around people and wanted some intensity and beauty. My third year I let my family and friends be around me. In the beginning, I couldn't handle gatherings or anything that even resembled celebration. Whatever you do, my advice is to do what YOU want, and do it HOW you want. If at one moment you want to laugh, and at another you want to cry, that's all fine.

I'm in a relationship that many have told me to leave. I don't think I'm wrong by staying. I don't think I'm doing something stupid or detrimental by staying. I'm glad I've stayed. Lots of people say "it shouldn't be work" and lots say "relationships are work." No one's right, everyone's right. We can't always avoid heartbreak. Or maybe we can and we shouldn't, because why lose out on great experiences. Or maybe we can and should. Life and love are HARD to navigate. I say what I said on another thread here, quoting my ex-therapist: "Allow yourself good feelings." Guard yourself too - don't blind yourself if red flags start showing themselves. Thinking of you!

It's ok to be a puddle and it's ok to scream.

How do you think he responds best? To shared activities? To affection? To verbal statements of emotion? If you do feel good about him, as you seem to, maybe just make a little effort daily or weekly to make some little gesture targeted at reminding him that he's not getting lost in your shuffle???? It's one thing to shift the focus from yourself to him as you need to focus on you (not a good thing) and another to give him little pieces of what he seems to be needing that don't require any/much sacrifice on your part???? But this thought is just based on that post and very little knowledge of the situation so if the right answer is, "He should just wake up and realize you're doing a lot of this for him!," then I'm going with that!!! (My perspective is also shaped by my own experience, where I would really benefit from my boyfriend throwing me a bit more encouragement here and there, so take it with a grain of salt!)

I always thought, from the beginning, that it's HIS loss as much as my loss that I was grieving. At some point, mourning your own loss gets a tad lesser (for me at least), but what he's lost....