Bunny

I went to my first wedding six months after he died- they were close friends to the both of us. It was very small and in their home. Their young son was my date- the other six in attendance were all couples, which felt extremely awkward to me. Yes, there were tears, but I really wanted to be there for them. Whenever I got too overwhelmed I stepped outside for some fresh air and to compose myself. I felt bad that I brought in any sadness to such a happy day, but the bride and groom were pleased I came and everyone was very gentle with me.

That reminds me of something my father told me towards the end of my dh's life- 'after you married T, I never worried about you anymore'. because he knew and trusted that T's first priority would always be my safety. It took me a while to get the hang of battening down the hatches each night, and I did forget to lock my doors more than once, but it got easier and less laden with feelings of loss over time. Now, it can make me smile to remember that part of his love for me, how lovely it was to trust in his protection so fully...

Fuck! I hate hearing that word, try to avoid ever saying it. I am so sorry you and your kids have to deal with it yet again. That really fucking sucks!

I definitely felt that in the beginning when I started forcing myself to say yes to things, without any real interest in going, simply so I could get out of my house. Lonely, wistful, awkward...and I wasn't even bothered by seeing other couples, just felt his absence. I admit to using liquid courage to help me through these events...I won't even get into how freaked out I got when I realized men were viewing me as a single lady again- the sizing up was not something I'd had to experience for quite sometime, and it made me miss him quite desperately. But, as with all things, you get used to it. Slowly but surely. And then one day you surprise yourself by very very much looking forward to going somewhere and are happy to talk to strangers. Heck, I got to a point for a while where I preferred talking to strangers! Good luck out there- we're all cheering you on like mama birds whose babies are taking their first flights...

I've been wanting to see a therapist myself- after four years of extreme self-analysis, I could use a little outside help with some remaining issues. But my major problem is finances- along with the fear and anxiety of opening myself up so fully (I've never been to therapy). I had a big ol' yard sale last weekend and met a fellow widowed person, who later brought his widowed wife to meet me- it was so lovely talking with them! They were very encouraging about how I was doing and told me about a place in our city that offers free grief counseling, both individual and group. though I didn't make much money at the yard sale (especially considering the time/effort/emotional trauma preparing for it), that information alone was priceless. Now I just need to make that call...thanks for the inspiration by starting this thread, Jen. Hopefully it will give me the strength to be as brave as you.

Keeping you and your brother in my thoughts...I am so sorry your family is going through this and grateful he found the strength to want to keep trying...

I didn't get married until I was 32, married 15 years, and I still talk about him quite a bit. I still find myself using 'my husband' and 'my late husband' both- though I'm trying to be more conscious about this since I have a boyfriend. Otherwise, it can get kinda confusing for the listener . I just try to make an effort to show that he is my number one now. I think it does require a strong and secure ego to date the widowed. And a widowed person who is ready to accommodate the feelings of a new partner. I read a good analogy about this from a widow- she compared it to the Olympics. Her late husband was the winner of the gold medal in the last Olympics, but now this is a new game, no need to compete with old Olympic winners, only hafta compete with the current crop of athletes / dating pool. (I'm paraphrasing, she said it much more eloquently).

thank you for sharing this, SVS. Yes, a HUGE step indeed! And that dream...what an amazing gift for you and your children! I am so proud of you for deciding to venture out into the world again, whatever it may bring. Thank you for the happy tears you've given me today. You are an amazing woman, SVS. Thank you for your continuing nurturing presence on this board, and for sharing your journey with us so beautifully.

Bumping. His favorite ice cream flavor was coffee. He always walked on the outside and held my hand when we crossed streets. He rarely filled the ice cube trays.

Bumping... His name was Todd. Being married to him was like living with a beautiful wild magical unruly unicorn- both a privilege and a total pain in the ass...

I'm so sorry, MrsDan...for you, for your daughter, and so very sad that your MIL had to join this crappy club.

I read this essay today - written by a woman whose father died when she was 3, about her childhood. I found it was beautifully written and thought you all might enjoy it also: http://www.slate.com/articles/life/family/2016/06/after_my_father_s_death_these_men_taught_me_about_family.html

Wow, portside. This is the second time* you've shamed someone off the board because they shared some honest feelings about children that you just couldn't help 'chiding' them about, along with imparting some 'helpful wisdom'. So, here's a little helpful hint of my own- trying to end things on a 'positive' note does absolutely nothing to lessen the shame you've worked to instill in an OP. Really, you just shouldn't bother. I'm so sorry, artlovingdad. *the first was mawidow (which, selfishly, pissed me off because I appreciated her insight on relationships post-widowhood.)

My husband died four years ago today. I try hard to keep the memories of that last year fuzzy, but with the beginning of June, random images start popping into my head and my anxiety goes through the roof. I had no idea my relationship with him would continue to grow and change after his death as I worked through, as I continue to work through, all of my feelings about our marriage, his illness, his death, and who I am now. I am grateful the anger is finally disappearing. That stage- being so very very angry at him and fixating on the negative aspects of our marriage- was very lonely. It was the only time I really missed the ywbb and all those years of raw sharing. I needed some of those threads so badly to help try and make sense of what I was going through. I felt so completely alone, even among widows. I'm sure if I could've afforded a therapist, I would have slogged through all that shit sooner, but what are you gonna do? We were very happy together, except in those moments when we were not. I don't miss having to deal with his epic temper tantrums. But I do miss how he helped me get ready for a night out. The question 'how do I look?' was taken quite seriously- with suggestions about clothing, shoes, or accessories offered if needed. He worked in construction, but also had an appreciation and love of fashion. I loved watching him shave and fix his hair. His hair was beautiful, all my girlfriends envied it- and he spent MUCH more time on it than I did my own. He loved animals. Whenever he was sick he requested that I read him animal books- his favorite being James Herriot's Favorite Dog Stories. His lap was my dog's favorite place to nap. The vintage car show he started 16 years ago is still going strong. He poured his heart and soul into that...I loved helping him realize his vision, but I don't miss working on it now. It's funny how people always assumed I was super into old cars because I organized that show . Nope- I was just really into my husband. He loved reading- especially history. He could take a dry and boring (to me) book and make it all sound so exciting! He would have made an excellent history teacher, but his formal education stopped at the 8th grade. (He spent his childhood in a cult. He had a very 'colorful' youth- I used to tell people I married an 'After School Special') He never stopped wanting to learn new things. When we got married he taught me how to cook and how to drive- I was in my 30s. He was always happy to eat my vegetarian cooking. He received his 10 year sobriety chip a few months before he died. Though he could barely walk, he insisted on going to a meeting to get it. He thought I was beautiful. For most of my marriage, I fell asleep to him softly stroking my bottom. Though he was sad about my disinterest in high heels, he still indulged my shoe fetish on many birthdays. He learned to love and appreciate the simplicity of my messy ponytail look. He was very irritated by my shitty map reading skills, but always drove on trips that required highways because he knew it made me anxious. He told me once he thought I was the bravest person he knew because, though he didn't understand my phobias, he appreciated me trying scary things despite them. He was a loving and adoring husband, except when he wasn't and totally sucked and made me want to strangle him. He was handsome and maddening and intense and brilliant and faithful and funny. He was my husband for 15 years. I was proud to be his wife. His best friend told me when all the guys were down at the shop, working on cars and bitching about their wives, he never once joined in. He was my biggest cheerleader. And I was his. I have survived his death, though for a long time I didn't care if I did. I have fallen in love again, despite my best efforts not to. I am both better and worse from his death, and am coming to peace with that.

It sounds like you two have been an incredible support system for one another emotionally. I acknowledge that as a very important factor that can make this situation even more difficult to navigate. As this was supposed to be purely physical, since both of you felt you weren't in a place mentally for more, I'm guessing neither of you were expecting to get along so well outside of the bedroom and it is now messing with both your heads. Though at one time I did contemplate a fwb in my widowhood, I never could follow through with it, so I don't know what you are experiencing. I will share that my own relationship began as two friends supporting one another. Though the attraction was certainly there, we worked at keeping things platonic in order to not potentially mess up a really good friendship, because- as you know firsthand- sex complicates things. I also was interested in maintaining my autonomy, not wanting to feel beholden to anyone, not wanting to be in love, so I kinda get where she is coming from there. obviously, I've worked through my issues enough to now be in a committed relationship, but it took some time. If you don't want things to continue as they are, then you do need to tell her this. Not as an ultimatum, but as someone who is taking care of his own emotional needs. It's been a failed experiment. But, regardless of outcome, you have learned some very important lessons here, yes? No-strings-attached doesn't work for you. And, perhaps you really are ready for an actual relationship after all.

Practically speaking: When we have sex, there are 'bonding' chemicals released into our brains- we are chemically wired to attach to the people we are intimate with. Makes sense evolutionally speaking, but can really do a number on us emotionally- regardless of any initial intentions. Add to that the added layer of being widowed, when any kinda happiness/intimacy can feel like the best most addictive drug EVER, and you have a recipe for potential disaster. (Plus- she's young and hot, too? Damn, dude...) It sounds like she is attempting to stay open and honest with you by telling you about this other man. It could be your closeness is frightening to her so she slept with another person to put up a barrier of sorts between the two of you- to remind both of you about what this is supposed to be. Only you can decide if you can wrap your head around being in this relationship on the current terms. It can only work if you are willing to release all expectations and enjoy the moment, with no attachment to outcomes. Yeah, I know, MUCH easier said than done, right? Nevertheless, it is doable. But. If you absolutely can't do that no matter what then you are going to have to risk losing her by asking for what you are now finding yourself wanting. (I'm guessing we are all adult enough here to not need to add a lecture on safe sex practices...)

I really fucking HATE how my anxiety has come back, like my body is reminding me, just in case I might try to forget- 'it's June, bunny!' Yeah, I know. Almost four years. Anxious. Anxious. Anxious. FUCK.

They're your rings, on your hand, so the decision is solely yours, yes? I wore my rings for about 21 months, until I came to the (at the time) very painful realization that I didn't feel married anymore. They were my late grandmother's rings so I was feeling sad to be losing that connection with her also. I did try to put them back on a couple times, but I felt my husband in my head saying 'No, Bunny...' It's a very personal decision, whether they are taken off immediately or worn for another 50 years, it's okay.

Thank you for sharing those great little anecdotes about your wife and marriage... It's funny, isn't it, how lovely it can be getting to know a bunch of dead people you'll never get to meet? You two sounded like a pretty good team...I'm so sorry your love story ended much too early...

It's my fourth summer. In ten days he will die on me all over again, though it will never be as painful as that first time. Ive noticed my anxiety has been creeping back lately. Planted a vegetable garden this year, the first one since he got sick. I'd only planted flowers since he died, something I'd never bothered much with when he was alive. The feeling of existing in a parallel universe from everyone else has certainly lessened, but hasn't gone away. I feel like I belong to this secret awful beautiful club that I wish I'd never joined but also feel gratitude towards for the lessons it has taught me.

i grew up in the Navy. My dad served in Vietnam. I am grateful for my military upbringing- for the global perspective it afforded to me through living in far away places. Also, there is a special love for Country that comes when doing it from afar. Listening to Storycorp today touched both my navy brat and widow heart: https://storycorps.org/listen/donna-engeman-and-nicole-mckenna-160528-2/ Thank you to all who serve(d), wherever you may be...

A couple years ago I had a man 17 years younger hit up on me; took a while to figure out that's what he was doing because- wtf?!!? One time my bf shared that when he was in his 20s he pursued- and had a brief relationship with- a woman in her 40s. So, yeah, apparently the younguns like to try out the older ladies on occasion...

I am so sorry you lost your beloved, my heart breaks for you...and, though English is not your first language, you expressed your feelings most beautifully, I understood. I hope you continue to find comfort here. Being younger than most widows, and childless, can make one feel so alone. Now at least you have us here. Just take things one day, or one hour, or one minute at a time- whatever you can handle. You can get through this, though I know right now it feels absolutely unbearable. For me, the most shocking part of widowhood was how much it hurts physically in the beginning. Some of the best advice I have read here is this: be gentle with yourself. You have experienced a great amount of trauma, it will take time to heal your heart. Keep pouring it out here, there is always someone to listen.

I recently found an old answering machine in the basement, the kind that records messages on a cassette. I sat listening to both sides, waiting for snippets of his voice. Cursing my past self for picking up the phone and interrupting him leaving me a message. I'm fortunate I have access to his voice on-line from a few interviews he'd done, but this was different. His voice was only for me, the subjects mundane every day life stuff. It was a wonderful find.

My aunt has lost three of her seven children. All of them died in their 20s- the last one wasn't even born yet when the first one died. She is an amazing woman. I have much love and respect for her. She has handled these deaths with an inner strength and grace I stand in awe of. I know her Roman Catholic faith gives her much comfort, along with her other children and grandchildren. I still remember the Christmas card she sent my first year of widowhood- acknowledging the difficulty, and promising me it would get easier. knowing how intimately she understood grief, I took great comfort in her words. Perhaps the reason men die or re-couple sooner than women is simply because, many times, their wife was the only person they had to truly confide their deepest feelings to. Most women have multiple people who fulfill that role. I can't imagine that kind of loneliness.