Wheelerswife

Bienvenue, Sandrine. My French goes back more than 30 years, so I will continue in English. I'm so sorry you had to lose your bear. It is really difficult, I know. No one should have to lose the great love of their life when they are young. But, sadly, this has happened to many of us. You will struggle with sadness and longing for him for some time. Right now, just try to keep breathing through all of the pain. My second husband was my polar bear...I lost him 2 years and 4 months ago and I still talk to him and wish he could come back. But you will survive this, even though you may not want to survive right now. Hugs to you. I'm glad you found us. Maureen

It is hard to believe, sometimes, that our past has not become our future. We look back on these days with both smiles and sadness. In a few weeks, I will cross what would have been 24 years with Barry. He has not been here for - count it - 7 of them. How is this possible? We also spent our last 2 anniversaries together with him in ICU...so the memories aren't so happy. Hugs. Remember Tim and all the wonderful years you had together. Hugs, Maureen

Oh, my! It seems I will be in...Rhode Island...that day! Can't wait to see everyone! Maureen

I'm not sure this is entirely true. I've been spending a little time on dating sites myself, more or less trying to figure out where I am in terms of readiness for a new relationship. I have had a few conversations with nice men and I have met one in particular who lives fairly locally, and we have both realized that maybe the best thing right now is to have a new friend. We have talked fairly openly since we started corresponding and we just put it out there...no chemistry, but we care about each others well-being and we like spending some time together. So we have a new friendship, and for both of us, that is a good thing. Maureen

Well, you are pretty amazing! You have managed so many things, between changes, your work, raising your wonderful daughter, juggling it all...but you were already pretty amazing, Hikermom. It is, though, quite tragic that your husband's death became the trigger for so much growth. I think this happened after my first husband's death. I can't say that I think my second husband's death has brought me the same kind of growth. Maybe it will in time, and I hope so, because I hope that something positive can come out of that loss. Kudos to you. I know your husband would be proud and proud of your darling daughter, too! Hugs, Maureen

...and it isn't like the last two summers. I spent the last 2 summers on the road, putting tens of thousands of miles on my car, visiting people and places that meant something to me. I couldn't face staying at home alone, without school and people at the university to distract me from my pain. There were a lot of good times in those last two summers, with sadness and anxiety mixed in. My method of coping worked for me, though. I made it through those summer months, thanks to the people that took the time to have some really good conversations about the important things in life...and the fresh air and beautiful vistas and sometimes, just the open pavement ahead of me. But this summer will be different. I'm staying home, well, except for a 10 day trip over the 4th of July. I am here in my house, just me and my dog. I have to complete at least 160 hours in a practicum for my master's degree program, and I'm doing that right here...within the overly quiet walls of the university where my husband taught and where I've been studying for the last several years. I have just one more semester left in my program. Come December, I'm going to need to be making some changes. So...the time has come to face my house and John's stuff. I need to go through the things that meant so much to him that he saved them or used them over his lifetime. It is a fair amount of stuff. I've already started sifting through papers. He saved every map, brochure, ticket, hotel room key....from all the places he visited. He saved cards and notes and scraps of paper with lists of things I can't even decipher. He was a very sentimental man, and I doubt that many people knew that about him. Today, I started letting go of bigger things. One of my fellow Master's students is moving from a furnished apartment on campus to an unfurnished apartment. Today, I gave her a queen size sofa bed and a recliner that I had from my first marriage that was in excellent condition, and I gave her a large-screen TV and TV stand that was John's. They have been sitting in the finished basement...John's lair...and unused since he died. I'm going to use the freed-up space to sift through more of John's things...and his late wife's things, too. The last week of June, John's brother will be here from Alaska, and I'm going to give him some things that belonged to his brother. In the mean time, I need to go through everything I can so that he won't go sifting through things himself. He isn't one to understand boundaries. I need to be ready for him. I've told myself I just need to work on this task for 30 minutes a day. I think I have had my fill for today. I can tell because my chest is tight and I need to settle my anxiety. Sigh. I can do this. I need to do this so I can live my new life and start my new career early next year. I need to breathe. Maureen

Mizpah, I think at one time I was in that "positivity cult" and even directed some of that at you. I learned a lot from that interaction...I don't even know if you remember it way back when. I've learned that there is a difference between sharing positivity and implying that others can find it, too, by following the path that worked for oneself or someone else. It just ain't that easy. There is a huge part of me that wants to find the kind of happiness I once knew. I did it once...found great happiness after loss. There is another part of me that fears I may not find that again. I don't want to listen to that voice. In spite of all the trials I face, I still want to hope that I will, in a different way, be very happy again. I suppose that looks different for different people, but don't we all want it? Maureen...who apologizes for her bad behavior several years ago.

Oh, Quixote, this made me smile! I smile because you are at least thinking that there could be possibilities. Alone, while it is sometimes safe and predictable, is still that...alone. Maybe your heart is really ready to think about opening up again. Hang in there, Maureen

Hi, Milojka, I will try to answer your question about my experiences and my views of several others who have been widowed and who found new love again. I found love again after being widowed...and my second husband was absolutely amazing. He was nothing at all like my first husband. His personality, his abilities, his giftedness...were all very different. I loved the life I had with him, and he with me, even though I still missed my first husband and he missed his late wife...who was very different from me. I know at least 10 younger widows and widowers and widow/widower couples who have found new love and are incredibly happy in spite of their losses in the past. I believe that all of them would agree that you can't go looking for what you have lost. You have to be open to something completely new. Just a couple of weeks ago, a widower friend that I used to talk to a lot...when we were both in a pretty sad state...he sent me pictures of his wedding. When we first started talking, he was 4 years from losing his wife of about 30 years and he couldn't envision life being good again. I encouraged him to get out and meet people...and he started by going to a group from Meetup.com. He met his now wife just 1 1/2 years ago and the transformation in him is amazing. (Any oldies remember dsb from the old board?) So...the bottom line is that it is possible to find incredible love again. I don't know if everyone can find this kind of love and I don't think that some people want to find it again. Some people would prefer not to recouple. I think some people aren't wired the same way I am...I know I function best and I am happiest in a partnership. Some people may find that they don't find a relationship with the quality of their marriage to their late spouses. I'm at the point where I think about this quite a bit, and I wish to find a third great love. It has to be possible, right? Please let it be right! Hugs to you, Maureen

Oh, sweetie, the pain is so strong, isn't it? I was diagnosed with cancer after my husband died and I just wanted it to take me out of my misery. (It didn't!) But as hard as this is, we all somehow manage to get through to the next day. Keep breathing...and keep coming here for support from people like SoVerySad. She is awesome. Hugs, Maureen

I know that sometimes we all need to agree to disagree. I agree with Mizpah, though, that this isn't professional therapy, it is a place of support. You have some background, Mike, with PTSD, and it seems that it is specifically with what I imagine stems from some of the harshest experiences that anyone can imagine, that of those in combat. It seems, also, that your approaches to treating those with PTSD are utilized in fairly controlled and supportive clinical settings, where highly trained professionals are present to guide "patients" - for lack of a better word - through a program designed to help them integrate their experiences and process memories, visions, and whatever else contributes to their PTSD. Most people here don't have access to the support that might be needed with that kind of approach. And while I can't say that my experiences rival those of combat veterans or even my niece, who was severely traumatized as a secondary victim of the Virginia Tech massacre, I know of others whose reactions to the experience of loss are best explained as a form of PTSD. But this isn't a competition here. Sometimes, having an explanation for what one is experiencing helps to find ways to recover from the trauma that one has experienced. Every day, widows/widowers are faced with the reality that they are still living with their loss and somehow, they need to figure out how to keep living. Part of that process is finding ways to understand and express thoughts and emotions. I grew up being told to "suck it up" on a regular basis. I spent my 20's working to understand and express what I'd never learned to do as a child. Like a lot of people, I've developed a pretty strong backbone, but that hasn't shielded me from the trauma of my own losses. That backbone has, though, allowed me to seek out support and to face my brokenness. It has been places like this site and the support of widow/er friends that have allowed me to vent and process and get through some of the worst moments of panic I have experienced. I'm grateful that nobody ever tried to tell me to look at the positive side when I was "whining". That being said, many people have pointed out the accomplishments I have made in spite of everything, and sometimes, in retrospect, I have found that helpful. Sometimes, "tea and cookies", a listening ear and companionship...simply DOES help the suffering. It has helped me and many others here. Sometimes, people just need to know they aren't alone in how they feel. Being a hard ass in those moments might turn someone away from the support that they need. In my opinion, when we don't know that someone has support IRL to process a hard-assed approach, it is important to be gentle, and to suggest that someone reach out for professional help. Maureen

My first husband died from the expected complications of a lifelong, progressive, genetic disease. Six months later, I met the man who would become my second husband. He live about 1600 miles (2600 km) from me, in a place I had never been. I resigned my job, put my house on the market and it even sold before I ever saw the place where I had decided to move to be with him. What followed were truly incredible years. I left my old profession, went back to school and traveled extensively with him. Sadly, he died less than 4 years after we met. It is now 2 years and 4 months since my second husband died. I finished a second Bachelor's degree after he died and I'm one semester away from completing a Master's degree. I'll more than likely move again and start fresh somewhere new. I just wish I knew where that will be...but I have to assume the answers just aren't here yet. Maureen

Hugs, Tatiana. Big hugs to you. Maureen

First, I want to say that there has been expression of some opposing thoughts and opinions on this thread and I am happy to see that people are expressing their differences with civility. As much as I am a resilient person, I also struggle with what is essentially PTSD myself. Did I ever expect to find myself in this position? Absolutely not. Who would have thought that I would be paralyzed and shaking, with my heart racing and trying to beat itself outside my chest? Certainly not me. But I sought immediate help for my panic attacks and I went to a grief counselor and I tried several medications unsuccessfully, as the side effects such as blurred vision and tachycardia were intolerable. I now live with a service dog at my side 24 hours a day and that intervention has helped me tremendously. I now can catch my triggers much more quickly and manage my anxiety more easily, although I often need time to process what have experienced. My biggest triggers are related to not having control over what happens to me. No surprise, eh? It is my opinion that it is important for all of us to have a safe place to express our experiences. Most of you don't know me from my earliest days of loss over 6 1/2 years ago, but for a short period, I also had a sense that if people just had a positive outlook, they could overcome their grief. Some people gently and not-so-gently educated me to a different level of understanding. I still believe that some of us grieved before our spouses died, especially those who faced a long-term physical or mental illness with our late spouses. For some of us, there was an element of relief when our spouses died, and expressing that reality is not always appreciated by some others who might not be able to imagine that the death of a spouse had any "positive" elements. Just as anyone can join our club at any time, any of us can also be hit by some life experience and we can find ourselves reacting to that experience in ways we never would have expected. People react very differently to things such as losing a house in a fire, receiving serious injuries, or like me, losing a second spouse. I think the important lesson here is that we have to understand that people aren't choosing their reaction to their losses. I didn't choose to be anxious. Others don't choose depression. Some may be able to tap into healthy resources better than others early on. For some, recovering from loss seems to be easier, others, quite difficult. I think this board has a mix of people and their experiences. Perhaps we need more people to post about their day-to-day successes and struggles so we all can know the reality out there. We can't be afraid to show all sides of this journey because feeling too positive will make some people feel worse, or because feeling less positive will bring judgment. Maureen

I spent the evening with a friend who is kind of like one of us...just that he made the decision to leave his marriage before his wife took her own life. We sat out several hours last night burning old records in a fire pit and having a good chat. It was therapeutic for both of us...and they weren't even my papers. Maureen

Hi, Mike, Thanks for your perspective. I think you and I have both been around long enough to see the gamut of young widow/widower experiences. Sometimes, yes, it is good to know that someone else is having an experience similar to one's own; just knowing that one's situation is not so unique confirms some degree of normalcy, especially for people in the earlier days of grieving. That extends not only to "negative" experiences, but to "positive" experiences, such as feeling resilient in spite of the unfortunate circumstances in one's life. I never did figure out just why I was graced with a shorter grief track after my first husband died. Believe me, there were many people, widowed and non-widowed, that questioned whether I had just glossed over all of the emotion that loss of a spouse brings. Personally, I don't think I did, although a fellow widower (not affiliated with this site) recently questioned me as to whether I was still "stuck" in the loss of my first husband. (Umm..I don't believe so.) I do know others who were able to pull their chins up, find some version of a silver lining, and make the best of the circumstances of their lives. I keep in touch with a fair number of folks who are doing very well. I also know of others who approached widowhood in the same manner as I did early out who eventually realized they had to face their grief. Sometimes, this was after situations in which they would say they made fairly "expensive" decisions. I've never been one to hold to the "don't make big decisions for a year" advice, but I suppose that advice was doled out for a reason. Maybe it should be: "Consider whether making big decisions in the first year is truly best for you as a young widow. Some others wish they had thought about it more carefully." So...my last line was really just meant to be a bit of caution only. We are all different and we can all own our own experiences. If someone who is finding themselves to be struggling finds optimism from someone's story of resilience and positivity, I think that is wonderful. Do we need to hear more of that? Perhaps we do, lest those reading here may hear a lopsided version of the experience of young widowhood. Maureen

Heartfelt, and beautiful. Hugs, Maureen

Congratulations on finishing your PhD, Suki1. That, in and of itself, is a major accomplishment. Some have asked me if I will get mine. I'm too old to put myself through that! I will stop in December having collected 2 Bachelor's degrees and one Master's degree. Where to go...what to do...yes, those questions are there. I really wish I wasn't put in the position of having to re-create a life...again. Maureen

I've come to learn that each experience of loss has similarities, but each is also very different. Different people come to their losses with different resources and under different circumstances, and those can impact the experience of loss. Those resources/circumstances can be things such as financial stability/instability, faith and religious beliefs, the support of others that surround a person, whether the death comes after a short or long illness or whether it is sudden and unexpected, the manner of death....and so many more things. People also have different life views. The reality, though, is that people's reaction to death really isn't very predictable. If I looked only at my experience of the loss of my first husband, I might only "know" that it is possible to grieve heavily for a number of months, to reach out and form friendships with others on a similar journey, and that my heart would become open to new love in a year's time. My husband's death was predictable for a very long time and the last 16 months of his life were very fragile for him. When he died, one of my first thoughts was, "This is the day I have dreaded for 18 years." I had thought about what this moment would be like for a long time. Back several years ago, I once posted that I was prepared for my husband to die, but I wasn't prepared for him to be dead. I was somewhat surprised by the depth of my sadness...I had never felt that before and I didn't know how sad I could really be. But, I somehow managed to pick myself up and I started living again. I fell in love and remarried when I was 18 months out. Life was wonderful...with that underlying sadness because I had known great loss. Fast forward...less than 3 years after remarrying, my incredible husband died without warning. I seemed level headed about the whole thing for a couple of days, but in reality, I was in shock. I started having panic attacks. I worked to try to keep myself grounded. I continued with school. My anxiety continued to escalate. I had a huge lump in my throat. Sometimes I seemed like I had my act together, but I was probably stuffing down the overwhelming sadness and anxiety. It didn't help that I had medical problems and had major surgery 6 weeks after he died and I was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer. But...I am stubborn and resilient and I march onward. Or so I think I do. I get reminded on a fairly regular basis that there isn't a lot over which we truly have control. I can try to be strong and positive, but that often isn't the reality for some people. The bottom line is that sometimes, it just takes time, and it isn't necessarily possible to predict that time table. I think, too, that we have to acknowledge loss, and nothing, including a positive attitude, can assure that we actually process the loss we experience. And if we don't process our loss, it pretty much comes to bite us in the backside. I'm now 2 years and 4 months out since the loss of my second husband and I still feel the sting and I still cope with anxiety, but I am more ready to move forward than I was. It is sometimes hard for me to believe that at this point after the loss of my first husband, I had been remarried for 10 months already. Each situation is different. So...just be careful that resiliency and a positive outlook and acknowledging the unfairness of life doesn't stop you from processing the real emotional impact of the death of your husband and your children's father. Hugs, Maureen

It sucks that it is graduation season and John isn't here in his element. It sucks that my summer project is going to be sifting through John's stuff and his late wife's stuff and getting rid of most of it. It sucks that the future I had hoped for has died, because it would have been awesome. It sucks that I will have spent 3+ years trying to figure out what comes next in life...when I could have been enjoying the life I had been rebuilding after my first loss. I just hope that the life ahead of me will be happy. I'm tired of limbo and trying to make the best of a life filled with loss. Maureen

Trying, I've had an emotional time lately, too. Yesterday I was at a graduation ceremony for a program we have on campus for gifted high school students. My husband taught a class for this program and would have been there, supporting the students, dressed in his regalia, alongside his esteemed colleagues. Yet he wasn't there, and it was me that marched in with the staff and faculty, as I worked this semester advising many of the students. It is still hard for me to be in situations where John should have been. I know that when John's colleagues see me there, they also feel the sadness of missing him. On April 27th, the university held it's annual Scholarly and Creative Activities Day...which is now named after him. I have a role now in congratulating the winners of the poster competition. I pull myself together through these events..something I couldn't do a year ago, and then I go home and the full force of the emotion hits me. I understand the need to create a new life. I think you are going to be awesome in what you are doing with the addition of Massage Therapy to PT. Just remember your PT boards and you know you can ace the Massage Therapy tests! I know it is confusing to build a life with someone new...I was able to do that, but there weren't 5 children in the picture. In reality, I have no real clue what it is like for you, but I'm still going to send good thoughts and wish you well as you start your new practice and figure out how to create your new family dynamics. Hugs, Maureen

I finished my last paper of the semester. And it feels good! (Don't get me wrong, I didn't do a great job on the paper, but it has been submitted.) One week of work, a class where I get to sit and listen to the other half of the class give presentations...and then...well, I have a summer practicum. No major cross-country road trips this summer. I will probably get a chance to make a quick swing through the northeast, but that's about it. It seems like it is time to start adulting again. I know some schools are finishing ahead of me. How is everyone else doing? Maureen

I am procrastinating on writing my last paper of the semester. It is about policy making theories regarding funding of higher education in the US. Is anyone more bored than I am? Maureen

Jen, When my second husband died, I was in a second undergraduate program that I enjoyed, but it gave me no true direction. I had left an a lucrative career behind after my first husband died. I had the opportunity to go back to school after marrying my second husband (a university professor...nice tuition benefit) but I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. It has now been over 2 years since John died, almost 7 years since my first husband died and 6 years since I "retired" at 48. I'm finally on track to a new career. I completely understand not knowing where to start, and I didn't even have kids to worry about. I have had to just let things evolve as they have. Some who know me might have heard me bemoan the fact that it wasn't happening fast enough for me. Although I'm the driver in this life of mine, I feel like I didn't have a road map. So...I just kept driving around until a direction felt right. Right now, although I have a direction, I still don't have that elusive destination. Hang in there... Maureen

I have read and re-read this post. I've been in a more reflective mode recently, trying to understand much of my life, my subconscious motives, and where life is going for me. I was a very long-term caregiver - 18 years worth - and voluntary at that. But caregiving did take its toll on me physically, emotionally, spiritually. There were times when I wished I could have a break from caregiving, but that never happened. I don't think I liken that part of my life to a marathon, because a marathon, while very long, has an end point. I think it was more like swimming in the ocean, far from any shore. Some days, the ocean was calm, but I still had to keep swimming, or I would go under water. It may have been a leisurely swim, but it was swimming none-the-less. Along the way, there were storms. Some of them weren't too bad...a cold, or mild bronchitis, but the work of swimming was more tiring. Toward the end of his life, I was caught in a couple of big hurricanes and almost didn't survive the big waves crashing over, but I persisted in swimming in the rough surf and I still didn't go under. Then one day, it just wasn't possible to hold him up above the water with me. He slipped under and I couldn't save him. He was gone. In time, I was able to swim to an island and was relieved to find respite and I didn't need to keep swimming any more. I decided to stay on the new island. The people were friendly, the work was much lighter, and I found someone who understood me and had known a bit of swimming himself. We started a new life together and we had fun and we traveled to other islands and basked in the sun of our new-found home together. We remembered our days of swimming, but we lived our new life. Then one day, a tsunami swept over our island and my new partner in life was swept away. I was left in the ruins of our island, overcome with shock, left to pick up the pieces of my life again. Not long after the tsunami, an earthquake hit my island and shook up my world even more. Fortunately, I had friends who had less damage than I did and they carried me along for awhile. Eventually, though, there isn't much choice but to clear the debris after a disaster hits. It takes some people longer to begin and carry out this process, and for me, it has been a slow start. I cleared out a little part of my island and plugged back into the electrical grid, and started clearing the bricks and sticks, and made a short path so I could get some provisions. In time, I realized that I couldn't rebuild on this island, so I've been preparing to move to another for a fresh start. I have been working to pull together the resources I need to move to a new island. I have scouted out a lot of places, but none have felt like they were right. I don't quite have all of my resources yet, but I will in less than a year, and I hope by then I can locate a new island that has the right kind of trees that I need to start building a new home. The hard part is that it feels sometimes that I'm swimming again, caregiving, but now I have to take care of myself. I hope the water isn't too deep and that the storms are not enormous. I need energy for the swim, bright sunlight during the day for encouragement, and a starry moonlit sky at night to keep my bearings. It has been a long swim. It isn't over yet. I need to build again, and then hope that there isn't another tsunami that wipes out what I've toiled to build. In the meantime, I keep gathering my resources and sifting through the debris of my life, deciding what I will hold onto when I move to the next island. Maureen