Mizpah

There are many things I've been unable to part with. I had to move at 5 months out, so a lot of stuff is in boxes in my father's attic. But some things stayed with me - mostly photos, cards, letters, and journals (we wrote back and forth to each other in them). I have one box at my boyfriend's house where I live, marked with DH's name, and next to it is one box with his late fiancee's name on it. We have a couple photos of them in one area of the house where there are tons of photos generally, so it happens to not be a shrine-like area. If you want to leave it out, leave it out. If you want to keep it, but feel it would be better somewhere more private, tuck it away. I think either way is fine, from my perspective.

Sugarbell, we have him every other weekend (also one weekday, but I'm at work and she's at daycare during that time). SoVerySad, he has a half-brother who is a few months younger than my daughter, his mother's, and he lives with him "full-time." I don't know how that relationship is, though, because there's not much communication between the households (except sporadic angry false accusations against us by her - I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I met WBD - she used to, I've been told, issue death threats against WBD's late fiancee (who was, by all accounts, incredibly sweet and universally adored), poor woman). Thanks all for your insight and support. I was feeling so hopeless about this, and I knew you all would have varied and helpful perspectives. It's frustrating and so discouraging, how limited I am in what I can do about this situation, but I'm hoping that over time and with effort, it will improve. It gets me down, and I'm hoping it won't destroy me and WBD's relationship. Ugh! All of your advice is now in my arsenal and I appreciate it so much! Wish me luck - I need it!!!!

Both of his parents are against therapy, so that's out of the equation, unfortunately.

Two of the three guys I had dealings with after DH died got in car accidents (DH was a pedestrian hit by an accident caused by a reckless driver) - one of them extremely major and requiring serious hospitalization/treatment. I felt like any man I was with was cursed. Now I'm back to "regular old" death paranoia.

Hi all, I don't know if it's ok that I post here - my daughter isn't DH's, but mine and Widower BabyDaddy's (WBD). I have a kids question, and am hoping someone has experience/wisdom, but if it irks people that I'm posting here about a kid whose parent didn't die, I get it and will get rid of the post - just let me know. So WBD has a 4 1/2 year old son (not his late fiancee's). When I was pregnant, his son was already very jealous. He told us he wanted to "break her and crack her and send her on an airplane to heaven," etc. It scared the $h!t out of me, but WBD felt it was just talk and nothing to worry about. But son hasn't really taken to her (she's 1 now). Wants nothing to do with her most of the time, and when he does, any physical contact goes from benign to rough to violently aggressive very quickly. He squeezes her wrists, pushes her, etc. I don't think he's just doing it for attention, because, for example, when he thought no one could see him one day, he punched her in the face (lightly - no damage at all, and she thought it was funny - I didn't of course). He won't let her play with anything of his, and he takes over her toys and won't let her play with them either. Of course, we give him time outs and instruct him as to the proper way to touch and play with her, but it does no good. A couple days ago (my breaking point), he threw a toy truck at her and it hit her hard on the head. She was bleeding, bad at first, into her eyes, it was terrible, and has a significant bump/bruise/scab. This happened with both of us in the room. I'm worried that she's not safe around him, even when we're watching, but they're siblings, so it's not like I can separate them forever, and wouldn't want to (I mean, I do of course, to protect her, but I realize it's just not the way). WBD definitely thinks it's a problem but also thinks I'm overreacting and that I need to let them interact more rather than policing everything and guarding her and preventing them from freely playing together, and that's how it'll get better, and it's his kid, so of course he's defensive. But I'm scared that it'll get worse. It also causes major tension between WBD and me. He thinks I "hate" his son, while the actuality is that I have come to see him as a threat to my daughter - I dislike his behavior (he also tries to hurt animals and other kids). I don't think WBD understands the distinction between hating a child and disliking a child's behavior/choices/attitude. (Also, the son's mother hates WBD and me, so there is no point in trying to all deal with it together in a united/consistent way.) Anyone ever dealt with sibling "rivalry" that crosses the line into violence, with very young kids? I know he's very young, and she is too so she's defenseless, and it'll hopefully change once he grows up more and she becomes better able to assert herself, but in the meantime....

It won't always feel so bleak. I remember (at least I think I do - in retrospect this is how I remember it, let's say that) wishing that days wouldn't be so nice, because they didn't match my insides and I felt pressure to "enjoy the day," but I couldn't/didn't want to. Not pitiful at all. Do the tasks at hand, but it's totally normal to focus on what you're focusing on. Remember: one of the tasks at hand is grieving. (You might actually enjoy the day a tiny bit too, even something as simple as the sunlight - that's alright as well.)

Agree - if it's not a wedding, or something formal and sit-down, where they have to pay per guest and it would be rude to bring anyone not invited, I'd say just bring him. You could always say ahead of time, "I hope you don't mind if I bring ____." Just start bringing him regularly, and I think people will start to think of you as a couple and naturally start including him.

At the one year, I had a hard time. I felt exiled from my grief - like a year has passed, and the intense, "allowed" period was over. It was "regular time" now - no more "a year ago today...." The second year was not nearly as hard for me. I think it depends on the person. But the second year was when I started to think more about me - the first year was all about him. In the second year I started to wonder what my life would become in his absence and a bit of worry and sadness and fear set in, I must admit. I believed I'd never want to be with anyone again, so pondering a (maybe long) life of general loneliness and monotony - it was daunting and sad. But as the year went on, I started to feel happier and more alive. I hope for that for you.

This doesn't sound weird to me at all. In the beginning, you're in pain. It's a whole different place. You're not in the land of the living. Now, you're kinda here, but you're kinda there. For me, it was a stopover. When I was around your time, I forced myself to date someone I wasn't very into (he was fine, I just wasn't there and he wasn't the one or one of the ones for me). I did it because I knew it was good for me, but I was going through the motions. I use this example not for the dating aspect but only to say I was kinda in the land of the living but also kinda among the dead still. At about two years, for me, I felt alive again. It's a strange in between time/phase.

This seems incredibly odd to me. Huh? This would be a red flag and a turnoff for me. My answer: no, you're not a dud. This says absolutely nothing about YOU at all. If it were me, and if I had an interest in him, I'd suggest a few dates that work for you and see if any of them work for him, tell him you'd prefer to meet since you've been communicating for a bit. I'd stop the chitchat and meet him if he's game, and move on if he's not - tell him to get in touch when/if he's ready to meet in person.

I think it's actually quite a feminist perspective. Think of all the dishwashing and laundry and spit-up-cleaning and diaper-changing women have always done - in the family unit, we're certainly like the servants, historically speaking and in many modern realities. You're wishing for a servant. You're totally the man of the house then!

I hear you. My DH was standing on a sidewalk and was killed by a reckless driver that caused an accident that flew up onto the sidewalk. After the accident, his family and I were contacted by people and organizations advocating for pedestrian safety, stricter laws and regulations, signage, etc. I have a lot of widow friends (mostly cancer widows I guess) who have gotten involved in working toward solutions for the issues that took their loves. I admire them so much, and I'm not proud to say that my main feeling was one of indifference - my loss is about DH, not about pedestrian deaths - about his life, not his death. If I were a better person, perhaps I'd care about the larger issue and those whose lives could be saved going forward. But somehow I only see him. Like you say, too little too late. (Sorry for the tangent/hijacking/confession!)

Yes.

I really don't think they forget. I think our culture/social scene is so scared of awkwardness, of anything that's a "downer," so PC, that people are afraid of saying things that aren't surface-y and easy. I'd be willing to bet that these couples, at least some of them, had conversations together alone just the two of them about DH and about you being on their own. I think people just don't know how to act.

I'm so sorry they hurt you with their seeming disregard. I think, though, and I hate to defend DGIs and the people who hurt widows, that it's not that they don't care, but more that they don't know how to show that they care, and maybe think that bringing it up will upset you or be a reminder of sadness. I think "they" don't get that, even far out, we think about it often and it's always with us. As for anniversaries, I never expect anyone to remember them, and I never remember anyone else's. I think the hard thing is what you say: "I hardly talk about DH anymore." We hardly bring them up, others hardly inquire, and the past fades into the past. It's one of the "gift that keeps on giving" aspects of loss - even after the rawness leaves, there is the sadness that they get further and further into the past and as we continue in the land of the living, they are more and more absent.

Hugs to you. I get it.

Yay! Congrats! I love hearing this. (The whole "no news is good news" thing: good news is way better news!)

Grief is like hibernation from life. It's very isolating. There appears to be little progress or change or activity. But, in my mind, it's like the principle of activation energy - when water is going toward boiling, the temperature is increasing. But as it prepares for phase change (from liquid to gas/vapor), the temperature stops rising for a bit and just stays where it is, because the energy is going toward the phase change. It doesn't SEEM like anything is happening, but very important things ARE happening. For me, the whole first year, plus some I'm sure, was all about grieving and living quietly and simply and calmly and healthily. I had rituals and habits and routines that helped me feel stable and sane. I worked out and ran. I ate healthy. I got enough sleep. I went to the cemetery once a month. I saw DH's family regularly (same time, same place every two weeks). I went to synagogue weekly (even though I don't believe in Gd). I read. I wrote. I sometimes had dinner with one friend at a time - nothing overly social and never groups. I took long, long walks. I didn't make plans for the future (even a month in advance, or a couple weeks). I was letting the dust settle. I was preparing myself for reentry into life. I was really delving into my grief. I was missing him. I felt outside of life, but I think it was the only appropriate thing to do. I'm not sure if I'd forced myself to engage in life more actively that I would be in the healthy position inside regarding the loss that I am now. For me, it worked. I know some people felt the need to make big changes and see/feel big progress. But for me, hibernation was not paralysis - it was important. It was just like phase change for me. I needed to withdraw to be able to move forward once I was done fully, truly grieving. Editing to include: This all brought to mind a quote from Joyce Carol Oates's memoir on the first year after losing her husband, "A Widow's Story." A friend told her, I'm quoting: "Suffer, Joyce. Ray was worth it." I think that's how I approached it. I suffered and let myself suffer until I started to feel myself coming back to life, and let that happen when it did. It happened for me around two years.

I think often what it would be like to be, say, the only surviving person from your town after the Holocaust. (There's a book, For Those I Loved, by Martin Gray - survivor, then years later his new wife and kids died in a terrible fire. How did he go on?) Or has anyone heard Maurice Sendak's interview with Terry Gross, or read about it? He didn't want to live any longer because it hurt too much to miss everyone, and he hoped she wouldn't die, because he didn't want to miss her too. In the abstract, even, it's inconceivable. Birth to me is just as inconceivable though - I have sex, and nine months later, there is an existence and an individual that just comes about out of nothing (cells, yes, I know the science, and I'm not religious). After DH died, I realized just how little my mind could conceive of non-existence - how the entirety of what a person is just ends/disappears.

And, mawidow, I can relate! Within a year, I met him, got pregnant, and moved hundreds of miles away to join him in his house. Cohabitation is such an adjustment and learning process when it's so early in a relationship. Feel free to PM me anytime - I likely get it in many ways.

I consider a "new normal" just having a routine, being able to say that life is generally like this or like that. So, for me, I have a one-year-old daughter and I commute far to be a litigation attorney for the government, and I live with my boyfriend, who's the father of my daughter. Seems so normal, right? But my new normal, beneath that surface, is nothing like normal. The man who believed he'd grow old with me died when he was 28. My boyfriend lost his pregnant fiancee when she was 26. Our very story - the story we'll tell our daughter about how we met and fell in love - has origins in death. Highly premature deaths. Bizarre accidental deaths. We're the opposite of normal - even just statistically speaking. My life may be very structured, but my feelings and our relationship, and the realities of who we are and where we've come from - how will we ever be normal? We already are, and we never will be.

Yes.

I'm sad to see that drama has prevailed so quickly. I left YWBB after less than a year because of things turning ugly and petty unnecessarily. I hope it will stop.

I doubt you're offending the widower dads - I'm sure some/many of them have similar feelings for their kids about Mother's Day.

As someone who's cohabiting (cohabitating??) and raising a baby together with a man I was long distance with first, I'll say that there is DEFINITELY an element of fantasy involved in long distance, and that day-to-day reality of life and of who the two people are can be a surprise and a rude awakening. Even if you are being your true authentic self during the distance, you spend almost only "fun time" together, not the dull or stressful times, and you are usually excited to see each other and doing fun stuff. Regular life sharing can be totally different.