jeudi

My daughter got married in September. At first I expected that all of the standard Emily Post Etiquette would be followed.

I could not have been more wrong. My daughter and her husband didn't want any of that. Whimsical invitations, just their names, destination wedding on the beach by "online ordained" officiant ( a friend of theirs ) and there was so much diversity and thoughtful inclusion of other cultures and spirituality.

It is ok to do things the way you want them done.

We had an empty chair at the ceremony with a handwritten tag on the back that said "Dad" and the chair seat had another tag that said please use this chair. That way there was a place to honor him but the seat wasn't empty.

I look forward to checking out some of these podcasts.

Also wanted to say that being able to read comes back. For me the inability to read was an inability to focus and it took a good three years for me to gain  focus enough to follow a storyline. I did, however, do a lot of writing much earlier on...writing that was outside of my grief and distracting was my wheelhouse. I finished a novel between 12 months and three years.

I think my brain got fried from grief. Healing due to amount of time past the actual event of loss was the cure.

hikermom-

Great post and great thing to think about. It is so poignant reading everyone's answers, thoughts, etc.

I've moved and did the purge already, many years ago. I kept some of my LH's things but not much as much of what he had and cherished could be turned into cash I needed over time. After so much time, other than pictures, I've kept a hat, a pair of boxer shorts, a dolphin pendant that is now on my charm bracelet, his social security card and driver's licence and his college diploma and birth certificate. A book he contributed to.  (I do still have many items that were "ours" together and of course things he gave me as gifts)

It is my practice to keep financial records for ten years and now I'm past the time when boxes of paperwork have stuff that related to my life with LH. No more the once a year task to purge - to go through the boxes of cancelled checks and receipts to shred and see little windows into how our life used to be. The last of these was four years ago (at that point it had been 11 years) and what I found was mostly sad- the cancer year. Receipts for meds, medical stuff. Even a cancelled check for the barber shop where he got his head shaved after his first round of chemo.

I still have so many great memories but those memories are largely fixed (you remember what you remember until something or someone gives your brain a nudge) and those boxes of paperwork were rich with things that stirred my memories. So, even though it was often hard to open those boxes of paperwork, especially that last box from our last year, now I don't have anything like that anymore.]

It is as if my past with LH is truly just a reflection in a mirror. Frozen. Static. No longer with any semblance of the dynamics of a life that is being lived. It is a life that was LIVED. I think that is the hard part of letting go of those things that fit into boxes.

These are my thoughts about this.

and another thought...

how is it gaming the system if you are accepting the help that has been set up by the govt for just such situations.

Wouldn't gaming the system be if you, for instance, married several men that you murdered so you could collect their social security ( after waiting until you turned 60 of course).

You are def justified in feeling offended. The guy is offensive. P-U.

The O'Jays said it best:

I know money is the root of all evil

Do funny things to some people

Give me a nickel, brother can you spare a dime

Money can drive some people out of their minds

Abitlost- your friend has no happiness in his life. Just sacks of cash. No wife, no kids. For some reason that doesn't surprise me.

Can't take it with you.

It doesn't buy happiness.

And now he is going to lose a thirty year friendship over his unhealthy relationship with it.

That's what we call the backwards cha-ching.

I am impressed with the way you go for what you want and all of this despite living through things that might bring anyone else to their knees.

Hope you love, love, love your new job.

xoxo

I suggest finding a financial planner who knows about social security. Find one that is a fiduciary (means he cannot do anything in his practice that is not for your best interest) There are a lot of ins and outs with finances and since you work and are bringing in your own income, whatever small amount you might have to pay the planner would be well worth it for you. Social security is one place where a mistake can be quite costly.

Good luck and I hope you get only good news.

xoxo

Judy

Glad you are reporting in. And that you are feeling a lessening of the overpowering feelings of grief. I've come to realize how important our grief is. I truly believe it is what we must go through after such a loss.

I was widowed 15 years ago. I still have moments when I feel loss and while I no longer feel overwhelmed by these feelings it still hurts.

Can I tell you that at 15 years life is pretty darned wonderful again? Please, please continue to be patient with yourself. A different life is still a gratifying life. I built mine one brick at a time- really just one little piece at a time. It has really hard but it has truly been worth it.

Judy

Bunny,

Thanks for your beautiful post. It is so important. Peace to you.

Judy

Grew up in the Catholic church and fell out early. Non religious Dad, devout mother who was devastated when I fell away from her religion. I never had any uneasy feeling about leaving it except that I had too many questions that nobody could answer and I didn't want to fake it.

I've studied religion though, because so many people are with it and to be without it leaves one feeling on the outs. As Joni Mitchell said in one of her songs "I think I understand, fear is like a wilderland"

So, when i say I believe in signs it isn't meant to be preachy as maybe this stuff is just between my LH John and me. The signs he throws my way are specific, undeniable, beyond the realm of being able to brush them off as coincidence. Largely magical. Always needed. They keep me going and let me feel connected to him still after 15 years.

After many, many years of getting his nod from wherever, I, like Joni Mitchell, think I understand. Some part of him abides. At this point I'm pretty sure it is LOVE. 

When I make a new thread here and at YWBB, it is almost always about the signs I receive. I suppose for me, hearing someone say that are not a believer in signs is akin to someone who believes in a very specific God hearing from me that I am not so sure about all of that. I would very much like for you to be able to fully feel your John's signs as i feel the signs I get from my John.

But, as a person who has felt the onus of judgement from other people, even those who love me, that i am missing out on something important that I know isn't a part of who I am, I should likely have kept this to myself.

And still, this John who loves you has kissed you on the forehead and given you a message. At least that is how I see it.

xoxo

Judy

My LH John died 15 years ago and I'm remarried. I  talk about John frequently- if not daily, on the usual. Snippets of remembrance. It doesn't seem to bother my new husband (who is a widower- he doesn't talk about his late wife as much as I talk about John which has never stopped me one iota).

I still have John's laughter in my head. I still miss him. How could I not? He was a force to be reckoned with and we shared 27 years together. I have his photo in my wallet and carry his Social Security card and drivers license.

Nobody on earth would be able to convince me that this is a strange thing to do.

I have a lovely, enviable, full and happy life. And I will always be John's widow.

Judy

Maureen-

If maybe just for today, with us, acknowledge her life and tell us her name and something you know about her from John.

And Leadfeather- you've said something beautiful with this

It is enough to know we loved when it was possible to love and that I made her happy while she was here.

Kflex-

Thank you for sharing your story. It's so hard to know how lucky you have been and now...this.

As an old-timer widow I believe that all parts of our grief are important and ours to go through at our own speed and in our own way. And none of it is easy but it is possible to go through it and get to the other side.

Keep listening to Justin. He is truly by your side though this.

Judy

Loxlie-

So very sorry for your loss. It sounds like you have a good plan for your days. The container you are crafting for your wife's ashes sounds lovely! Wow!

When I lost my husband. my Mom, also widowed young, was my go to person. It helps so much to have someone in your corner who truly understands. Sometimes, folks who haven't gone through a loss, simply cannot really understand.

This is a good place here. Glad you found widda.org

Judy

This thread has me in tears.

I wish I could have been more perfect-and yet the perfectionsm was the annoyance. My tears are from remembering a moment towards the end when he told me sternly, YOU NEED TO STOP THIS...because I was upset at how out of control everything was becoming and his stupid cousin from Canada wanted to come and visit us and the house wasn't clean enough and I knew I didn't have enough steam left in me to clean it and still do everything I really needed to do. Like pay the bills. Like dealing with Dr.s. Like all of that.

On top of that I knew his stupid cousin wanted to come because my husband was dying and it pissed me off that this cousin wanted to come and visit when he never had before. And the whole pretense. I called BS. Still makes me so mad. Nothing worse than the trolls who come out when death is closing in.

Me calling BS on the pretense was super annoying. Bah...he loved me nevertheless.

Judy

soujourner-

Support for you from here. 

I understand hard.

Judy

I took a small amount of my LH's ashes with me to the Virgin Islands. I put them in a clear baggie and labeled them "cremated remains" and nobody seemed to care. I had the TSI agents view them on x-ray in my carry on and they said nothing. Also watched as customs agents in BVI pull them out of my bag and put them back in. I don't think that ashes are so unusual as to cause a stir.

There have been things in my life I thought would never change because I was in a good place with them. Never said such a thing when things felt miserable. I grew up moving every few years (my Dad's job transferred him all over the place) and feeling too cemented in my life was a dangerous thing.

When John died I looked at it as a challenge- nothing inspirational but more that I got handed something that would be very, very hard to overcome or adapt to (whichever). And I knew I could overcome and or adapt. It was a little bit angry of me right at the first though. Now I have a much better attitude. I took off my helmet. But only after I had knocked down anything and everything in my way.

There are always things I could never even imagine. Life is just so FILLED with those things I decided a long time ago to go with the flow. Although at first it was remarkably like jumping off of the top of something high enough to kill me and having faith that whatever was best for me was what would happen...reckless. I've lived my life avoiding spontaneity but this was something different. The worst had already happened, right?

When I was an active participant on Ywbb I would read posts that spoke of NEVERS and think- not smuggly but ALMOST- well she doesn't have a clue what is just around the corner. I would see these widows lives just...blooming.

YAY!

I can look back and clearly remember how hard it was in those first months- pretty much the first year. And i hope that doesn't make things too scary. Mizpah- such sound wisdom. "Only way through is through." There isn't really a way out- it is and will always be this terrible thing that happened in your life. For me it is the worst thing and I sure hope nothing worse is possible for me in this life.

Before my LH died I knew he was dying and I remember thinking I could do it. I could get through it. I could survive it.

And there were waaaaay too many bad days when I sat on the end of our bed and wept at the sheer misery. I remember feeling like I was chained there as though enslaved.

This was fifteen years ago. Although I clearly remember those chained to the end of the bed days it is now truly a memory. I feel stronger for having survived. I feel grateful that I didn't lose myself in the horror of it all. I feel happy to have had him in my life. It feels amazing to have still more in front of me.

Some folks have a life that is so neat and perfect and safe. For some of us though...there are stains. We get the storms with the thunder and lightning and wind but eventually we figure things out and really? We are better for it. More wisdom to share, substance, true grit, depth of character. Sucky but OH SO TRUE. It will take you a bit of time to get to this place and please, please, please don't feel in a rush to get there. This deep grief is yours...ultimately it is what will help you. Don't gloss over it. This loss is not in a meadow- you need a sturdy plow because it is a rocky place. The end of the field is...there, somewhere.

I am so sorry you are still in in the midst of all of these waaaaay too many bad days. It WILL become more tolerable. You WILL have some good stuff that will mix itself in. Some of this you will have to force and some will just happen like a soft, warm breeze.

Best to you. Best wishes, best thoughts. Patience is important. Go easy with yourself. Time will pass in ways you don't yet imagine.

xoxo

Judy

NH and I married at the tax assessor's office. Shorts and flip flops. They had a hokey "beach" scene mural with some fishing net and starfish hung around the edges and we stood in front of that to have our picture taken on his cell phone. We had already lived  together for seven years at that point and would have been fine to continue on that way but i needed his health insurance.

Afterwards we had seafood at a nice restaurant. Then went to Walgreens.

Big day!

On Christmas Eve night we would turn out all of the lights in the house, sit in our dark living room holding hands on the couch and enjoy our beautiful, fully lit Christmas Tree. LH would make me guess what he gave me for Christmas, giving hints until I got it right. Then, because I already knew what I was getting he would make me open the gift right away.

I am remarried now. I've saved those traditions as memories...and now NH and I have made a few of our own new traditions.

Hors d'oeuvres and only hors d'oeuvres for Christmas dinner.

We bring a thermos of hot beverage and a box of Christmas cookies with us to look at the top ten Christmas light displays in our city. He drives and I navigate. There is one house where they have a llama and a miniature horse and we bring treats for them too.

thanks all. Eileen- I couldn't help but notice your Bob Marley icon. My John met Bob Marley when they were both alive. Got to hang backstage at a concert in New Orleans and even smoked a doobie with him. That was one of his favorite things!

Very nice article, thanks for sharing. I've always felt connected to Katie as there are a lot of similarities in our stories and at the time I was widowed, 15 years ago, she was the only celebrity I knew of who had lost a spouse young. I'm sure there were others (duh!) but she was front and center at the time. I felt so very bad for her that her girls were so young.

Thanksgiving is past us. It has never been A big significant holiday for me but here is my recollection of John's last Thanksgiving- not so different from Katie's. We were invited to spend the day with friends- we had often shared this day with them in the past. I was encouraged not to bring anything  but for sake of my daughter brought my super yum broccoli casserole. John sat at dinner and moved the food around his plate. He would be dead two short weeks later. Our friends knew it. He was so....grey. They had little kids and I overheard the wife telling her boys that Mr. John had cancer and was sick. The youngest asked,

"Is he going to die." She roughed up his hair and told him,

"I don't know honey." She knew she was lying.

After dinner, in order that we didn't have to leave right after dinner, he lay on their couch. I tried to help in the kitchen. People kept sort of drifting through the room to have a chat with him. He told me later it was like they were paying their last respects. Truth is they were. Truth is he didn't know they were. His denial of his condition was based on the tremendous hope he had. He had the hope because he believed that hope was his best shot at living through his disease.

Yeah.

Our next Thanksgiving, our first without John, my daughter and I spent at the friends of John's step-mom. We traveled to get there. Step-mom treated my daughter and me to a shopping trip to the Galleria in Houston on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving. We were sort of brittle but glad to have distraction. Then the next day we went to her friend's house for Thanksgiving dinner. It was beyond horrible but so bad we laugh about it now. They were boozy lushes and both were slightly drunk on our arrival and it got worse as the day went on. They asked my daughter, at the dinner table, how she felt about loosing her Dad. (yeah.) They allowed their little Tibetan Terrier on the table (yeah. on the  table) and it had two dingleberries hanging off its butt. Not very appetizing. The man of the house started argument after argument with his velvet jumpsuited wife and they kept drinking. At one point the wife announced that my late husband was,

"A fine conservative." (yeah.) He was not. He was never. They didn't really know him, were friends with his deceased father who was a fine conservative. So...yeah.

That was a valuable Thanksgiving for the single reason that my daughter and I figured out it was better to be just the two of us with a Swanson's turkey pot pie for dinner than to EVER be the add-ons or the pity invite at someone else's party. We've said no to what might have been perfectly lovely events because it isn't worth it to maybe feel miserable because we were trying to have something to take our minds off of "it."

This next part is a little bit harder and has pretty much no comedy. No dingleberries. You know how close Christmas is to Thanksgiving so the road to the end was already in motion on that last Thanksgiving. By December 1st we had told his oncologist NO to more chemo. I edit myself when I tell you simply that I whispered in his ear as he had lapsed into a coma,

"Let it go."

and will tell you only that I fervently hoped it would be quick. And part of that was the fact that Christmas was just around the corner. And I just didn't want him to die so close to Christmas because...well, maybe someone out there will understand my feelings without me saying exactly why.

He died Dec. 7th. I am so very extremely stubborn I bought a Christmas tree on December 14th and we had Christmas that year. And we've done it every year since. I used to hang his stocking and then finally put it away in tissue and now and then I look at it. Such a difficult thing to put away. Difficult is an extraordinary understatement. Ya'll get that.

John and I used to sit in the dark on Christmas Eve and look at our tree. I miss that. I've made a lot of new traditions since those days. My daughter loves this holiday as much as I do. My new husband is mixed on the whole thing. We do what we do nevertheless. I still go to the box in my closet and pull out John's Christmas stocking even though our last Christmas is now 16 years past. I touch the fabric, touch where his grandmother didn't finish his name but wrote the letters in ink on the red part of the felt. There is a little airplane and a teddy bear and a big Christmas tree, all beaded and elaborate. The stocking is huge as he was a spoiled only child.

So that is what I'm going to do tonight. It is the 15th anniversary of his death. I'll look at that oversized stocking and shed a tear or two. I'll put it back in the acid-free tissue and close the lid on the box and hang the other stockings.

Christmas morning my daughter will arrive with her new husband and their crazy dog. Step-daughter will arrive in time for breakfast and it will be the nicest day.

Hope it goes well for everyone here. Peace to you all!

Judy

Today, fifteen years ago, was John's last day alive. I still have sharp memory of that day, minute by minute I know what was going on. It will likely never be forgotten, probably never will blur. I am OK to have the memories- kind of like it is the least I can do to remember him. There are, obviously, many, many good memories of our 27 years together and there are, of course, the rotten cancer memories (more than just the last day) and then the last day memories are those where I see myself from the outside looking in.

I am here not because I am a young widow (I'm 61 now, 46 when widowed) and not because I struggle. I feel proud of who I am, always have even at the worst of it. I am here because I still have a thing or two to share and to let others hear about my travels through it and how it looks to have walked through the ring of fire and to be on the other side of it with scars but I still have skin, still have hair, I've put on new clothes to replace the ones that were burned to ash. I love again. I have joy in my heart. I  go forward with my John out there in the ether and he helps and rewards me with his love from THERE.

I've never cared if folks believe me or not about his ongoing role in my life. I'm not religious and frankly I'm sort of amazed to have learned that something goes on past this life on earth. I always had an inkling. Now I am convinced although I don't pretend to have any real clue about it. Is this faith? Not really as I have proofs.

Our daughter got married recently. Out in the crowd of invited guests I saw a shirt John used to wear- a crazy Hawaiian shirt with koi fish swimming in water. I saw it before I saw who was wearing it. It was his best friend wearing the shirt and I knew it was the sign I was hoping for. His friend was there the day John died but left before, hours before, to avoid his ex-wife who arrived to help me care for John (she is a registered nurse). Apparently, I gave John's friend the shirt. I do not remember doing so. I can hardly believe it did it- I mean who does that? I knew, really knew, John was dying but at the moment I gave away his favorite shirt he was still alive. If I wanted his friend to have it I could have sent it to him. This action of giving the shirt away while John was still alive is so not like me...

and understandable that like some sort of magic trick the shirt was transferred to his friends hands and saved for 15 years to wear to our daughter's wedding. Mix into the magic that we had a beach wedding where this shirt was not only appropriate but that our friend struggled to know if this was an ok thing to do.

I am good friends with his ex wife and didn't even invite her because I wanted to make sure he would come. I even wrote him a note telling him she would not be invited- and really who does that? Not me. But I did.

So, do you see how it all lines up? A shirt given but forgotten, a shirt saved, a shirt becomes appropriate for the occasion where normally it would not be appropriate, a shy guy who never opts to put himself out there goes ahead and does this thing and I walk up to him and I'm not even clear how it is that he wears this OH SO FAMILIAR shirt and his eyes fill with tears as he reminds me I gave it to him on the day John died, moments before he drove away? He told me I ran out to the driveway after we had said goodbye and shoved it in his hands. He told me that he couldn't find his sunglasses and sat in the driveway for a minute or two- long enough for me to rummage through John's closet looking for the shirt and long enough for me to run through the house and out the door to give it to him).

I called him within a minute or two of his arrival back home to let him know John was dead. That I do remember. He was so sad and full of regrets to let his difficult and bitter ex keep him from being there when his friend passed away.

There is even a picture taken by the wedding photographer that shows me whispering to my daughter about the shirt and her face is crying but happy to know that her Dad was there in spirit, not just us saying so but in that shirt. She remembered the shirt and until that moment had not noticed that it was a part of the scene.

This life is like a puzzle and this piece fits here and that piece there and some of my pieces go into other puzzles and I don't even know why. Sometimes I can feel when this is happening. When a piece that fits in my puzzle shows up I am always surprised but never doubt its origins. It still makes me weep, the beauty of this and the sadness of loss. I'm good though. I have grown to understand  the way my life continues and grows and moves towards more wisdom and more good times and love. Love. LOVE.

That was John's final say in this world. He couldn't say it out loud- he was so far gone- maybe if it works this way he had one foot on the other side but his far away eyes zoomed back for a millisecond and looked right into mine and he mouthed it. LOVE.

This fills me with such peace. So today, I can write this post in this widow place and speak of it with only the smallest lump in my throat, with no hot tears falling just a beginning misty wetness gathering at the corners of my eyes and hope for all of you who might read this that you will be able to sort out your most terrible of losses and move into the future with hope of your own and an ability to live more.

John, he was my husband for 24 years. I met him when I was only 19 and he proclaimed his love for me the next time he saw me. I believed him but I was surprised by his emotion! And I wanted to know for sure I felt the same way before I said anything similar to him...and I made him wait another two weeks before I told him I felt it too. He had blue eyes and eyelashes like a super model. He was skinny and blond. It was 1975. Our child was born ten years later! She is 32 now. She was 17 when he died. This is a tiny part of our story but proof of how life goes on.

15 seems a significant anniversary to remember and yet it is only the fact that it is Pearl Harbor Day today that jolted me from regular thoughts to these thoughts today. As they say, a day that will live on "in infamy" and as John was a World War II buff it has always seemed quite fitting that he died on this day. My Mom pointed it out to me at the time. This is what she said,

"He knew if he died on this day we would never forget."

Are you wondering how on earth I could ever forget what day he died on? I have a really great memory but dates escape me. There was not a single of our 24 wedding anniversaries that we remembered (he suffered the same date-escape malady as me) and we would "come to" days afterwards and we would shake our heads that we missed our anniversary- yet again. Oddly, my new husband is hyper focused on dates. He is a widower and he takes his daughter out on the anniversary of his wife's death every year. There is no forgetting with him. He will likely come home with flowers for me tonight. Yellow roses. He is so sweet that way. It is kind of an odd little piece of being remarried to a widower. I love him so very much!

Thanks for listening. I am no longer young (and frankly when I joined the YWBB so long ago I used to bristle when it was sometimes suggested that to be a young widow you should be in your thirties or younger) and although I still feel pretty young overall things are happening to my body and the gray hair tells a story of its own. So, again thanks for listening to this old widow.

I will probably always have much to say. (this refers to my very first post on YWBB that was titled "much to say, no one to say it to")

xoxo

Judy

Reading your post brought tears to my eyes. Your in-laws did something rotten here when they could have been lovely and loving. it hurts my heart to understand, yet again, that people can sometimes really suck.

As you think of this scholarship you get that when the world reads about it or when it is given to some deserving person they don't get the entire picture of your husbands life and what was meaningful to him and your place in his life. All of this information should be there because it is the truth.

As I continue on with my life without my DH I get stabbed now and then. He was a zoologist and because people love animals and there is an entire TV channel devoted to animals I see his colleagues get air time on their research/work and sometimes these are projects he worked on as well. I see people that I've hosted for dinner and a free bed getting jobs and doing projects he would have loved to have had. He has been gone for 15 years and is virtually forgotten. But not by everyone.

I hold all of this in my heart. Our daughter holds this in her heart. There are a few other close friends of his and mine who get it as well. Usually it is someone deeper than average or someone who has also lost someone they suffer to live without. This is our special role in this world...that we get this particular brand of sorrow. It might not define us but it is certainly a part of us.

You have gotten good advice about the in-laws. I just want you to know that I hear you, that I understand. It sucks. It will always suck. It isn't everything, it's not even the worst part of your loss but I do-so-completely-get-this.

Without him having been a part of your life you wouldn't have to feel this crapfeeling. I try to gain something from this. I have a widow friend who has the following tattoo on her foot-

YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW

Sometimes she will wear sandals and cross her legs and present this to the clueless who seem never to miss an opportunity to say something stupid.

Love her!

Keep on keeping on.

xoxo

Judy