Wheelerswife

I thought some of would be able to relate well. https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2015/11/04/when-the-second-year-of-widowhood-is-harder/ Maureen

I didn't go to the media, but my second husband's death was fairly highly publicized. He was a well known fish in a relatively small pond and his death was unexpected. Many people were in shock, not just me. His brother also insisted on a very long obituary. There was a public memorial service four weeks after he died that was packed with his students and colleagues. I was happy that people were talking about him, telling their stories and supporting each other. I've never had to look for outside financial assistance, though. There seem to be a lot of factors to weigh here. Part of me says that you've lived your story, you have told/written your story, and you relive it in your own mind with every aspect of your life that reminds you of him. If you were able to find a sensitive reporter to interview you and help you tell your story, you might be able to handle the experience. You also have the potential to correct previous mistakes or attitudes about your husband and his death. Human interest stories get a lot of attention. You might also be able to deflect the financial aspect and reason for telling your story by just talking about the realities of what happens to people after such a tragic death and how you continue to persevere. At the end of your story, perhaps there could just be an "afterthought" where the reporter says that a fund has been set up to assist you, and the public can be directed to a bank or GoFundMe type of account. Hugs to you for your determination. Maureen

10 months after my first husband died, I left my job and I moved a couple of months later, thinking I would continue to work after I got settled. But I realized I just didn't have what it took to be a caregiver anymore, and I ended up leaving a 26 year career in health care in the dust. I had muddled through those first 10 months, doing everything I could to avoid contact with my peers at work. I would go in early, get started early, and get out as early as I could, often leaving without the expectation of getting paid for a full day, as I was out of paid time off. I was surprised that after a break, and with a new life with my second husband starting, I still lacked the motivation to work in my profession. I'll admit to having severe widow brain that never truly resolved. I never recovered my full capacity to focus, even during my gloriously happy second marriage. I did go back to school, but my issues with focus made things challenging. Still, I did well in school, keeping a 4.0 average. Then John died, too. School became my focal point through all of the hell I endured, but my focus was even worse. Somehow, I still pull things off and now I am in grad school. I sometimes procrastinate for hours before getting some reading done or writing a paper, and I have trouble staying on task when I do manage to get started. Medications for ADD help my focus, but give me unacceptable side effects, so I'm doing this without drugs. But...I feel some inspiration coming back. I have another year of school and then I will need to find a job in a new career. I hope I can pull it off. It has been over 6 years since Barry died and I've had widowbrain that long. Is there hope?? Maureen

Thank you, Justin. I see John and me in this blog. Maureen

Together, we can find a cure for the phrase, "What doesn't kill you makes you stronger." This one! I actually heard this after I had cancer surgery 6 weeks after my second husband died. At the time, I just wanted it to kill me. Put me out of my misery. Nope. Didn't happen. The person who said this still has their front teeth, too. Maureen

I met my second husband John when I was 6 months out from the loss of my first husband Barry. I saw my MIL fairly regularly at that point. John and I connected very quickly and I think my whole demeanor had changed. She and I were talking about 6 weeks after John and I had met. John and I were long distance at this point, but he was coming to visit again. I told my MIL that I had met someone new and that it was already getting serious. I think she swallowed hard in surprise, but wished me well. I asked her if she wanted to meet him when he was visiting. She declined the offer. Little did I know that things would continue to progress and I moved half-way across the country a few months later. MIL and FIL met John about a year after the first invitation. By then, John and I were married. MIL liked him. They had one other opportunity to meet before John died. I think the key is being sensitive to the feelings and grief of others. You can't let your MIL dictate how you move forward, but respectfully telling her what is happening might go a long way in helping maintain a friendly relationship with her if that is what is important to you. Maureen

Hugs...I hope there is a sense of relief after you turn in the binder. Are you even big enough to carry its weight? Maureen

It would be fascinating to sit in on your class tomorrow! Maureen

You have taken on a monumental task. The promotion process is challenging without the terminal illness and subsequent death of a spouse. I'm proud of your persistence, though, because you could have chosen an easier way, but you didn't. I'm sorry this has been so emotionally taxing for you, my friend. Hugs, Maureen

Justin, Quixote and Jess have said it well. All I have to offer I my condolences. My second husband died unexpectedly, too. I was dumbfounded. How do I go on? I had lived this horror once already and I found my way through it, so I know first hand that we can survive, and eventually thrive. I often say that I just put one foot in front of the other...and that has gotten me this far. I'll remember you today, as you face these her friends, family, and co-workers. It is likely to be a blur...and that's okay. Come back when you are ready. You have people here who really get it...and really care. Maureen

I didn't turn on the light. Instead, I had a nice Facebook chat with a widower friend.

Ah. Halloween alone again. I have candy. Do I turn on the light?

I'll probably just stay up an extra hour, staring at my computer, hoping words come on the page of the project I'm currently procrastinating for... Maureen

It seems that at least a couple times a year I write a rambling post, trying to put words to what?s transpired in my life. I guess I?m at that point right about now. It is hard to believe it has been over 21 months since my second husband John died. That was a mere 4 ? years after my first husband Barry died. Many of you have been there for a lot of this rollercoaster. I?ve appreciated the support. How have I coped with this second great loss? And the medical issues and cancer diagnosis that followed? It hasn?t been easy. It has taken medication, a good counselor, the support of widow friends and the university community that loved my husband, a service dog for panic and anxiety, two summer-long cross country road trips, the completion of another Bachelor?s degree and the start of a Master?s degree that will take me another year to complete. I met with my counselor this week. I see him almost daily where I work at the university, but I hadn?t talked with him behind closed doors in 6 to 8 weeks, I think. I always cry about something in his office. He asked me how I was doing. My answer came ? ?I?m doing okay.? And then?the tears came?not the slobbery snotty kind of crying, but the tears that well up in your eyes but still overflow. It is true. I?m doing okay. My rare cancer that was growing aggressively has been undetectable since surgery six weeks after John died. I have my moments where I feel sadness. I?ve got a better grasp on anxiety than I did a year ago when it interfered with just about every relationship in my life. I still find myself with my heart rate quickening and pounding in my chest at times, but with my dog at my side, I manage my anxiety without rescue medication most of the time. I know what most of my triggers are and I face them more directly. I?ve spent a lot of time alone. I still get up every day and I get out, but being alone has allowed me to really process my grief. This past summer, I took myself to many places that John and I had hoped to see together. I felt his absence acutely. I buried half of his ashes next to his late wife. That was agonizingly painful for me. I think I?ve turned a corner, though. I?m having a good semester in school. I still procrastinate like crazy, but I?m learning and researching and stretching myself. My focus has turned from the past to the future. A year from December, I will finish my degree and I will need to be making some decisions. I don?t think I can stay where I am. I?ll likely need to relocate and start my second career someplace new. I don?t have a clue where that might be, but I?m open to possibilities. I?m ready to think about meeting someone new. That sounds quite daunting, but I know I?m not meant to live life alone. I will need to find someone willing to take on all of what I bring to the table. I?ve added a lot of baggage in the last 21+ months. I hope this can happen organically, but I?m almost certain that I?m going to have to work to make it happen. I wish this part were easier. I suppose there really isn?t an easy way, is there? Thanks for reading. Maureen

Yes. I had this, too. For all 1400 days (or 3.83561644 years) that we had together. I just did the math. 1400 days...from our first conversation until he died. We lived that forever honeymoon, too. Maureen

We learn, Mikeeh, we learn. At least that is my experience, and what I hear from several fellow wids who have found love again. I've hoping I can find it again. Lightening can strike 3 times? Maureen

You have come this far, TooSoon...and I know you want this. I know this means more than you seem to be willing to admit here, but yes, it does dredge up some of the worst times. I'm thinking of you... Maureen

Barry. John. My loves.... Maureen

Happy for you! Maureen

http://www.timjlawrence.com/blog/2015/10/19/everything-doesnt-happen-for-a-reason I can relate to much of what is said here. I really don't know anything about the author, and I don't want to endorse anything else about him without further research, but this article hit the nail on the head for me. Someone just recently told me that everything happens for a reason and to put the past behind me in order to move forward. Uhhh...and how do I just do that? No understanding whatsoever. Maureen

Justin, my friend, hang in there. Sometimes, we have no real choice in our experiences with these kinds of feelings. I'm hoping that the depth of your depressive episode eases and releases you from its grip. The people who love you hurt with you in their own way...but I hope you can accept their embraces as you move into the light of another day. Hugs, Maureen

DebW, You have every right to be sad, to cry, to feel however you feel. Losing your spouse at a young age is cruel and crushing. I don't know how you will feel on your birthday, but many of us have found that the days leading up to "special" dates (for lack of a better word) can be harder, sometimes, than the day itself. Somehow, we manage to find our way through these dates, each in our own way. I've found that distraction is sometimes helpful, but invariably at some point, I will find myself with tears, sometimes in a puddle, other times just a trickle down my face. Hugs to you...and cherish those cards and other mementos shared over the years that document, in bits of handwriting, the love you shared with your husband. Hugs, Maureen

Phil, I'm so sorry that you are suffering so much. People surrounding us really don't understand all of the turmoil and the range of emotions that we experience. I'll echo what Justin says...this is your loss, your grief, your schedule. It took me 18 months to bury half of my husband's ashes next to his late wife. I still have the other half with me, even though I have a cemetery plot and a headstone here locally. You do what YOU want, when you are ready...or never, if that is what you decide. Hugs, Maureen

I'm sorry that you lost your husband to leiomyosarcoma, Bones. I'm all too familiar with it myself, having been diagnosed with the unterine form of LMS just weeks after my second husband died. Not many people have heard of it. Sigh. Maureen

Hi, Fuchsia, Perhaps what you feel is some relief? It can be hard to actually put words on some of the feelings that we have. I believe also that people have different perspectives on the afterlife and some folks find comfort in those beliefs. Whatever you feel...is how you feel. It isn't wrong, and it is likely to morph along the way. Just keep taking care of yourself, and I hope you can find kinship here where you are free to express your thoughts and feelings. Hugs, Maureen