Euf

It is just the end of the season. As a widow whose husband died 11 years ago, I assume I watch it from a different perspective than someone whose husband/wife died recently. I think if I was watching it 11 years ago, I'd be sobbing my way through it. Now I am just appreciating the way the show is unfolding. I will admit that I sometimes cry a bit. But I also laugh a bit and I appreciate a show that has a widow that seems real to me. I watch a very little bit of television. Don't even have cable, just an antenna. But this is one show I make a point of watching.

I'm another one chiming in to say "this guy is out of line". Sucks to have such a tax burden. LOL. You are NOT overly sensitive. I get that it is sometimes hard to let people from our past go, but he seems to be clueless.

This is a wonderful letter. I was the first among my friends and acquaintances to have their spouse die. I have also been that I had close friends that dropped out of my life when my husband died. The wife died last summer and I haven’t been able to reach out to him. I didn’t know what to say. I plan on using your letter and with a few modifications that personally pertain to me and my friends, will send it on to him. I have felt guilty, small and mean when I was simply at a loss for what to say. So thank you for posting this.

Aww Bunny. You break my heart with a dog. Add in some Mary Oliver, and I just keep crying. (((hugs))) Been there, done that.

We wids are tough. We make it through what ever comes our way. I wish you luck. Let us know how it goes. (((HUGS))

For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin – real life. But there was always some obstacle that got in the way, something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life. Alfred D’Sousa

What a fun post! Thanks KrypticKat. We always stuck the dog in the back seat and took her around to see the Christmas lights. We oohed an awed and pretended she did too. Happy memories.

I'm always happy to see a post from you. Thanks for continuing to come here with "things to say".

For those that celebrate Christmas, I think it has to be one of the hardest holidays for the widowed. Even if you and your spouse weren’t very “Christmassy”, it is still a time of family and friends and celebration. For those with children, there is an additional sadness. We try to fill the shoes of two parents when it is hard to even be one person. There are traditions that just seem too hard to maintain. I write this post to offer my ideas, and what helped me but to also have you share what you want. How do you think you can survive Christmas? The first Christmas after my husband died, I hung his Christmas stocking and I wrote a letter to him and stuck it inside. I continue to do this each year. Every year, I read what I’ve written in the past and then I add my new letter. Mostly I tell him what has been happening and let him know that I’m OK. It has become my Christmas tradition. I don’t have young children at home, but think it might be nice a nice way for them to include their Dad/Mom in their holiday celebrations. But what do you think will be meaningful to you and your family?

I do understand why it's hard to let it go. But those that know her probably know "how she is" and it is her loss that so much of who her son was, and who was important to him, is something she excludes from her life and her memories of him. (((Hugs)))

I would just let it go, even though I understand how upsetting it must be. It might make you feel better to call the school, but they haven’t done anything wrong. It was set up by his parents and the school accepted it as being given from them. The school would not be able to change the wording even if they felt you were wronged. You know the inlaws and you would know if this was done simply in spite, or if because as your you lost a husband and experience the grief that comes with that, they lost a son/brother and have their own grief. If you don’t think it was done simply to be mean, I’d assume that in their grief and sorrow, they only thought of their loss. If it was done to specifically exclude you, I’m always of the opinion that it is better revenge to not react when someone is trying to make me angry.

I found an old post from YWBB. The original question was: If you could have a t-shirt made, what would it say? What message do you want the world to get about how you're doing? What question do you want people to stop asking? What do you want the world to "get" about grief? Here are some of the responses. Do you have any to add? "Caution: Grieving in process. Say stupid things to me at your own risk." I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel because I have yet to find the damn tunnel Forget walking a mile in my shoes try taking one step "How you think I'm doing is YOUR perception, but it is not MY reality." Contents under pressure Just because I laughed does not mean I am over it. One Day At A Time....Still too much "I don't want to play this game anymore so I am taking my ball and going home" Call the FBI, the other half of me has been abducted My husband went to a better place and all I got was this lousy t shirt "CAUTION: The person in this shirt is temporarily insane" HEART AND SOUL OUT OF ORDER CLOSURE is for windows, not widows. Warning : Reality is closer than it appears --I am alive, but not really living I really would like to move on, where are the directions? WARNING: Object in this mirror is sadder than she appears. "Stop wasting time reading this t-shirt...Go HUG your spouse" "I'M STILL STANDING" Yes, I'm still grieving because my husband is still dead. "I'm only wearing black until they make something darker."

I'm sorry. I just want to say I hear you and understand that the past often holds us tightly even when we have moved into a new place in our grief. ((hugs))

My husband died in 2006 but tonight, I’m looking back at things I wrote years ago. Here is a post from 2008. BROKEN A few months ago, I was talking with some friends. We are sort of an informal support group. One of the people asked, “If you had one word to describe yourself, what would it be?” The first word that popped into my head was “broken”. I tried to explain that pieces of me are missing. I mentioned that some people seem to want to “fix” me. I know they care about me and want me to be happy, but death isn’t something that can be “fixed”. I will have joy in my life, and happiness and contentment, but I will always be broken. My friend sent me this poem today that she wrote. SHE IS BROKEN This is not a cheap toy, this is not a fancy dish. Put away your glue This is her, and she is broken. Friends can’t fix her. Family cannot unbreak her. This is not a seam to mend, this is not a crack to fill. She is broken Love her, comfort her, hug her. Listen to her, talk to her. Try to understand her. But don’t try to fix her. She is broken Love her, accept her, encourage her. Walk with her, not over her. Think of her, but give her space. Pray for her, but let her heal. In her time, in her way. He is gone and she is broken. I was so touched by this. One of the many losses that death has brought is the loss of being understood. You know how it is between a husband and a wife. Sometimes you try to put something into words, but the words don't quite convey what you mean. But often your spouse understands what you are really trying to say. He knows you. He can read between the lines. Sometimes you don't even have to say anything, because you have the same reference points, the same shared history. This poem made me feel seen, understood, and accepted. I was reminded about a book called "Grief Observed" by C.S.Lewis. He wrote it after his wife died and he compares being a widow/widower to having your leg amputated. I got the book out and looked up the part I was thinking about. Quote: To say the patient is getting over it after an operation for appendicitis is one thing; after he’s had his leg off is quite another. After that operation either the wounded stump heals or the man dies. If it heals, the fierce, continuous pain will stop. Presently he’ll get back his strength and be able to stump about on his wooden leg. He has "got over it". But he will probably have recurrent pains in the stump all his life, and always perhaps pretty bad one’s and he will always be a one legged man. There will hardly be any moment when he forgets it. Bathing, dressing, sitting down and getting up again, even lying in bed, will all be different. His whole life will be changed. All sorts of pleasures and activities that he once took for granted will have to be simply written off. At present (in my grief) I am learning to get about on crutches. Perhaps I shall presently be given a wooden leg. But I shall never be a biped again. -"A Grief Observed" by C.S. Lewis I'm further along in my grief than C.S.Lewis was when he wrote about his amputated leg. He still had crutches, but I have the wooden leg now although I'll never be able to walk the way I used to. My husband is gone and I am broken. This question is sometimes asked here: "Can you think of anything good that has come from your spouses death?" It's a hard question to answer because we would be willing to trade all the good for the life we had before. But there is good in being broken. It slows you down walking with that wooden leg and you see things and find things you never knew were there. You learn new ways to do things. You appreciate your good leg more than you ever did before. And you learn that being broken is not the same as being destroyed.

I want to share something I wrote (and posted on YWBB) years ago. I hope it gives you courage and hope. When my husband died I was lost without him, but I knew I had to keep moving even if I didn’t know where I was going. Forward motion even if I wasn’t getting anywhere. It was too tempting to withdraw, to hide and never come out into the world again. So I kept moving and ended up with a life worth living. Written June 29th 2007 The Widows Walk Widows understand circles because that is where we walk. We are tied by an invisible tether to our dead husbands. They are the center that we are connected to. We take small and unsteady steps and we keep moving but we cannot move too far away. There is so much they haven’t seen and we need to tell them about it. How else would we understand it? How else could they know what we are doing? So we tell them about our lives and what we see and what we do and we are tied to them. We walk in circles. Sometimes the rope stretches and I move farther out. But it is still a circle. The path is worn and full of holes and I stumble, but I walk the circle. There is nowhere else to go. I see things off in the distance. Can I go there? How do I get there? Do I pull on the rope? Does it stretch far enough to let me move in another direction? Do I cut it and hope I can find my way back? Do I pick him up and carry him with me? But what if I get lost? What if I can’t find my way home? What if there is nothing out there? Those who have walked the circle before me tell me I will never lose him. They say he will always be with me. I trust the widows. They would not lie to me. But I am afraid to move on. So I walk the circle. I look for a straight line to walk. But all I see are paths that bend and turn. Where do they lead? Can I go there? Do I want to go there? I walk the circle but I am looking toward the horizon. Another path is calling to me. Written July 12’th 2009 There is a straight line and I found it, but chose not to walk it. I picked the crooked path. The straight line went on and on, and I saw the end. It was an easy path to walk. Uneventful, but easy. Not much more than forward motion. I could even close my eyes while walking but not stumble. I thought that was what I wanted. Easy, safe, uneventful, boring. Walking forward until I died. Instead, I’m tripping over rocks, turning blind corners, getting tangled in the weeds and stepping in mud puddles. I’ll admit that I’ve stubbed my toe, almost drowned, got a nose full of mud and got caught in the weeds for a while. And I will do those things again. But I’ve also found myself. The crooked path is the path of living, not just existing. And the best part is that he is still walking with me. He would have been bored on that straight path. He would have been sad that my life turned into one foot in front of the other. Instead, I hear him laughing. Laughing for me and with me.

Maureen, I’ve been thinking about this since you first asked the question. At first I thought,”well, my philosophy is “. . . . and then I hit a wall. How did I get to this place in my life without a philosophy? When I was younger, not only would I have had a philosophy, but I could have also told you what was wrong with yours. I’m not sure if it is a result of being widowed or being older, but I don’t know nearly as much as I did when I was young. But this is what I have ended up with: 1. Be kind. You are the one that benefits in the end. 2. It doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you if you aren’t happy all the time. If you were happy all the time, that would just mean that you are an idiot. 3. Keep on keeping on.

(((hugs)))

Yes, being bitter doesn't help but it's hard to know what does. I hope that it helps to have us know and understand what you are saying. (((hugs)))

Thanks everyone for your responses. I’m just kind of bummed. People are weird. LOL This is why I still come here. Thanks for the reality check. No wonder I have no interest in a new relationship with a guy. I can’t even manage having a girl friend. LOL I’m just joking. I have my girl friends. I guess she just isn’t going to be one of them,.

Thanks for posting this. I remember reading it on the old board and wishing I had stumbled across it earlier. I thought at the time (and still do) that it made the most sense of anything I ever read concerning grief. (((Hugs)) to you and wishing you peace in the days ahead. Euf

I made a new friend a few years ago. She has never been married and since Jim died 11 years ago, she never knew him. I was kind of excited to make a new friend and we seemed to have a lot of things in common. I rarely talk about Jim to her but every now and then I say something like “Yes, Jim and I used to vacation there” or “I know them because they were people I met when I was married to Jim”. I bring him up in conversation without making a big deal of it. We were married 23 years and it is hard to discuss the past without mentioning him. I am partially laid off from where I work. Business isn’t great, so from the time I first became friends with this woman, I’ve worked every other week and on the weeks I didn’t work, I always spent a day doing something with her. In August I had to work 3 weeks in a row so I sent her an email letting her know that I wouldn’t be available to do anything for a few weeks. In addition to going to work I have a mother with dementia, I have grandkids and I have a large house and property to take care of and various obligations that need met. I also am someone that likes having some “me time” where I can just be alone and rejuvenate. A few days later, she sent me a link to an activity in town and asked if I wanted to go. I assumed she just forgot I wasn’t going to be available and responded that I was “going into seclusion for a while LOL”. She seemed kind of hurt that I was choosing to not spend any time with her so I responded by saying that August was when Jim died, so in addition to being busy with work, August was a rough month for me and being the introvert that I am, I needed some alone time. She sent back what I thought was an odd response: something that sounded very formal about how she doesn’t pursue but she retreats and that she hoped that when I was available, our friendship could resume. I tried not to read a lot into it but I wasn’t sure why she seemed to think I was playing some game where I wanted her to “pursue” me and why our friendship needed to resume when as far as I was concerned, it hadn’t ended just because I wasn’t available in the month of August. Things have been strained since then so today I decided to broach the subject with her. The end result is that she said she felt as if I just pushed her out of my life for the month of August because I haven’t been able to “move on” since Jim died. I don’t even know how to respond to that, other than to tell her that I think we will be better off being acquaintances rather than friends. Am I being unreasonable to feel this is pretty juvenile? Does this seem kind of like high school drama to you? Has anyone else dealt with something like this? Am I supposed to pretend he never existed? The whole thing is just pretty bizarre to me.

Hi Mike. I remember you from my early days as a widow. It would have been so much harder without our virtual widow friends and I’m thankful we can still come back and find them here when we need them. No matter how far we have gone past active grieving, sometimes things still hit us when we least expect it. ((hugs))

I think part of the problem is that we are used to being part of a couple, and part of a social network that knew us as a couple. There may be singles and couples in that set, but were a part of it as a couple. Now we are something else. When our spouse dies, we fall into some limbo land. We don't belong anywhere. I think a lot of people are just as happy if we kind of fall by the wayside and drop out of sight. But I also think that there are a lot of people that just aren't quite sure how to interact with us although they would like to. I know that when my husband died, I was crazy. My best, dearest, most wonderful friends stuck with me. But now, 11 years later, I don't blame the ones that didn't. Someone on YWBB once wrote that friends were like food. Some were empty calories. Some gave you nourishment. As if we don't have enough to deal with, we also have to sort our friends into food groups! LOL But in the long run, it is easier if we accept that some people aren't up to the task. Some are. But we may have to just chuck most of them and start again. The other way that I look at it is that everyone's friends change over time. Even if our spouses had lived, eventually we would cycle through some new friends. You get married and you tend to have just married friends. You have kids and you end up hanging around people with kids. You are widowed and . . . . . . .I guess you end up here. Or in a support group. But what we really want is to be an actual person again that fits somewhere among the people just living their lives. It hardly seems fair, but I think if we want friendship, if we want to be included, remembered, thought of: we have to be the ones to try harder.

No words of wisdom here. Just want to say I hear you. Jim is remembered by a few but basically forgotten by most. I'm OK with being forgotten too. Maybe this is just how the ones left behind feel. The dead were so important to us that is seems strange other people don't think of them as often as we do. But I don't care if no one remembers me. Except maybe as a footnote. I assume that when I die, a few people might think about Jim. "Oh Yeah, that was Jim's wife that died." I don't care if they talk about me, but it is nice to think they might tell a few "Jim" stories and remember him. I guess it hardly matters at that point, so for now, I choose to believe that is how it will be.