Quixote

TooSoon, you have a point. My wife and I loved each other desparately until she died. Heck, I still do. Losing that love-- the one thing that was central to both of our lives-- I can't bear to think of that. It IS hard for my friends who deal with it. Is their pain greater than mine? Probably not, and it certainly is a different sort of anguish. But it's not a contest either.

Howling winds into LAX last night. Supposed to be calm. But landed the big tin can safely enough. It's my job. Feeling competent again. Good feeling. The flight deck is a safe place, where I know where everything is, and there's an order and reason for everything. The rest of my life? Eh, still working on it. But at least I've got the bird under control. And that's something.

Two Christmas parties I was invited to. Supposed to be a judge at an arts competition thing, so I'd already turned them down. But headachey to the extreme, so I bailed on that, too. So at home with dog. Napped for a bit, then walked the night with cigar and pooch. Mostly caught in thoughts. Today, so many years ago, it was the first time I kissed the last girl I'd kiss. And she admitted she loved me, despite the boyfriend and all that. We were engaged within the week. Then we went on our first date. She held my hand and told me we'd never have children, and was I okay with that? I knew about her health from the first kiss. And back then we were immortal, anyway. Maybe we still are. And I still have her dog.

800 is 800 too many. But glad they've found this place. I think it's helping me to talk with you guys.

Finished the sim at 3 am yesterday, Pretty much rocked it, if I can be completely immodest (arrogant pilot? Who would have thought?) Back home with the critters now. Whee...jetlag. Forgot about that You'd think I'd be immune after a couple of decades of flying, but nope. Flying a real bird tomorrow. I feel totally charged. I'd forgotten how important the flying is to me-- you'd think I'd have enjoyed all the time off, at least once I got the sleep under control. But no. It wasn't fully blown grief depression, but more of a "blah, I'm useless" feeling. My wife always said that I got grouchy if I didn't fly for more than a couple of weeks, even on holiday. She'd threaten to call scheduling and volunteer me. Here's the funny thing-- our company just took an order for a bunch of new shiny jets, and I put in my bid for training on them. I got the award. A lot of guys were all "What? Right after you just went through refresher training on the old equipment?" But you know what? It feels right. In a way, it's like when I finally moved out of the old place my wife and I lived in together. It's part of the continuing to live on thing. But I'm not going to pretend grief is over. Sojourner's right, I need to figure out a way to fill that empty moment with acknowledgement. I wanted anything to call my wife when I passed sim. She always would call me in the morning, even if it was stupid early-- like even 3am for her. She'd set her alarm on her cell phone and sleep with it, and give me a sleepy call to wake me up and say she loved me. And I'd always call her when I got in. Maybe a hangover from the days when my flying was more dangerous and she worried more. But mostly just to hear her voice. I'm going to have to figure out a rhythm that helps me get through that. Or the insomnia is going to hit again.

"The trick, William Potter, is not minding that it hurts." --T.E. Lawrence. I think about that quote a lot. Like TooSoon, I once made the mistake of trying to "process" and move beyond my grief. It sounded good on paper-- I'd remember the good, cherish her memory and burnish each day with the love we had. Cue me and the dog walking into the hills with New Age piano music playing. What a crock. I was outwardly that guy. People would tell me what an inspiration I was. Got letters about it, even. No really. But eventually the pain dug its way back out. Total collapse a year ago, just now digging out to a normal existence. You will never not hurt. You just get used to it. And you know what? That's okay, I think. The pain is the acknowledgement of loss. Trying not to hurt is like trying not to have had that loss-- and in a way, denies the love you had. Don't do that. For one, it doesn't work. For another, you never to forget that love.

Other, you're right. I'm not under the pressure you are if it's pushing you that hard. Mostly for me, it's that huge feeling of not fitting in and others wanting me to. It hurts because I want more than anything to return to what I-- we-- were. But I can't. That's not your situation. It sounds to me like you feel the world is rejecting who you are now. I don't know what to say to that other than you are a precious person. You live, you breathe, and yes, you suffer with grief. The unique you is worth more than any number of taffeta coated fantasies of wedded bliss. And that's something, isn't it?

It's not just women. After about thirty, single guys get the "So when are you going to meet the right girl?" treatment. I'll confess to being guilty of this when my wife was alive-- we were amazingly happy together, and would set friends up. It was never less than awkward. Now I'm the recipient of same attitude. Karma is such a girl dog.

Heh, we quoted it at each other all the time. My wife played in a medieval music group that did a fair amount of improvising-- when the lead string would wander off musically (brilliant guy, but a bit out there), she'd put her flute down and announce "We'll just wait for it to come around on the lute." Me, I'm just sitting here on the Group W bench.

Another "get out of brain!" here. I just need to be alone. Except I miss people. Who need to give me my space. Where'd they all go? Sound about right?

It varies for me. We never really did holidays, but just hung out with each other. Christmas, gave each other some presents, that sort of thing. But now that's she's gone, the empty quiet of the streets bugs me more. To be honest, I can't wait for the season to be over. It's terrible, but seeing my friends being happy with their families makes me feel awful. I'll probably be working, though. Might as well pick up a holiday trip or two for people who want to be home.

Don't apologize for dumping, that's a large part of what this place is for (at least I hope so, cause I do a lot of it, too) I hear you so loud and clear. Four years here, and I'm just now starting to function at old levels of attention and energy. But I still have the pictures, and I still cry for here at night when I'm alone. Hell, still talk to her. Sometimes even when there's other people around :? I don't think there's such a thing as moving on.

Day one of ground sim and one on one with a systems instructor. Chief pilot personally welcomed me back-- it's funny how many folks remember me and seem to have missed me. Guess I've missed them, too. Airlines bigger than it used to be, but there's still a certain quasi military esprit de corps. The numbers and systems come back when I don't think too hard. My fingers know the switches. But sim is still sim, and I feel like goo. Think I'm going to hit the hotel gym then back to the books. Even now, after years, I have to restrain myself from trying to call home. She's not there. But, maybe in a sense she's here.

I hear you, too. Sometimes just don't have much to say other than dreams aren't easy for those who've lost. And his problems-- dang, that's hard. But go easy on yourself. You weren't selfish, it was just a terrible situation you dealt with best you could

I'd actually gone back to work before, but had a freaking meltdown last year. Recurrent nightmares about the girl, that sort of thing. End result was inability to focus on the flight deck (I'm an overpaid bus driver). Margin for error in my line of work is pretty narrow, so I voluntarily pulled myself off line and saw a pshrink. Of course, that made me ineligible to fly period until I got a thumbs up as totally not depressed. Did my Maria von Trapp imitation in the pshrink's office a month ago and got the paperwork to go back and commit aviation. Should be excited. Love flying. But it's been a year out of saddle, and frankly I feel as rusty as all get. They've got warm up sim time for me, but it's do or die by Dec 2 or I'll have to find another line of work. Don't have a lot of fallback skills, I hate to say. This is what I've done my entire adult life. Unsuitable for honest labor, we like to joke. Well, flying out to corporate tomorrow morning. Miss the hell out of my wife at times like these-- she was always there with a cup of coffee and a burnt toast peanut butter sandwich as I headed out the door at Oh Dark Thirty. And she would drill me on limitations and profiles-- probably knew my planes better than my first officers did. But she's not here, and there's nothing for it but to grit teeth and focus on the job at hand. Here goes nothing.

Jeez. Times like this, you realize death brings out the best and the worst in people. Sometimes you have to forgive, though. People in grief do odd things. The day after my wife's death, I walked in on my father in law going through her things, throwing out random stuff like library cards. I took her purse from his hands and asked him "What are you doing?" As gently as I could. He stared through me and yelled "I'm just trying to help you!" Then a 79 year old man who had survived the London Blutz broke down in front of me. No, it was not right to put you through that, or to attack (however indirectly) your faith. But they're a bit crazy right now.

Hang in there, Brenda. Went down the drinking to stop the nightmares route for a while-- it doesn't really work (aside from the health issues). You just end up more depressed the next day, and the sleep disturbance starts getting to you. If this starts happening on a regular basis, really recommend not having alcohol in the house. This isn't some AA rag here, it's about realizing you're in a fragile place right now and keeping the house "widow proof".

Thanks all. Yeah, deaths of pets always give me flashbacks (had to put a horse down earlier this year, too). Not fun, but we press on.

Not a joke thread, just a bit of a dump. Found my pet goat ripped open by coyotes this morning. Been trying to get a mule or something on property as a protector critter, but the various rescue deals kept falling through. Should have just bought one Funny how we are about pets. Heck, I've eaten goat. But she was an affectionate critter, if a bit of a pain in the rear (invariably would escape the property at least once a week and I'd find her on the driveway, bleating for her meal ticket. I dunno. We love who and what we love, I guess. Really didn't need to see her carcass, but took care of what needed taking care of. It's what we do.

Jen, I honestly don't know, either. I have pretty much the same feeling, like the good and happy part of my life is over. And I get the "think positive!" stuff so much (hey, I live in California). Well past the point where people expect me to be grieving, which makes almost everyone a DGI. What I can tell you is that I figure I might as well try to get through the day. Maybe the best day now is worse than the worst day with her, but it's all I've got. I went with the "caretaker of her memory" cloak for a while, but that's a heavy thing to carry daily. Instead, I just go with "let's see what happens today". Take care. And yeah, you've got family who needs you around. That's something, isn't it?

Like the rotisserie chicken idea. Good intermediate between take out and cooking. Healthy, too

I was the cook out of the two of us. My wife liked to say her favorite food was other people's cooking. It was a part of our courtship, actually-- I'd make her dinner or the odd cake/loaf of bread. So cooking is kind of hard for me now, like a lot of special things we did together. I rely way too much on eating out these days, but have tried to simplify things so I don't find myself aimlessly staring at the cupboard in despair. I try to keep precooked protein (chicken, sausages and occasionally beef) in the fridge, with a stack of those prepackage veggie things from Trader Joes (baby broccoli, asparagus, brussel sprouts, etc) Breakfast-- we've got chickens, so I usually grab a couple of eggs and heat up a pan while I wash the eggs. Toss veg in microwave if there's not some precooked. Toss oil in pan (landlady keeps olive oil with garlic in the house), Stir fry a bit. Toss eggs in. Wrap in tortilla or just eat. Season with salt, pepper and Tapatio. Coffee. Lunch-- fry random protein in oil until browning, add veg. Heat. Pour out of pan. Toast tortilla, wrap and eat Season with salt, pepper and Tapatio. Coffee Dinner-- same as above, more protein, skip tortilla. Mint tea. Yeah, it's pretty much bachelor food, And I've been known to eat right out of the pan over the sink. But it keeps me away from the taco stand.

Nothing to say, other than it's the worst thing in the world. I've found that reading and posting here helps, it's an understanding bunch. Hope it does the same for you.

Dang, I clicked on this thread hoping one of you had an easy answer Right there with you, Jen. Me, I fill my time with a lot of activity. I look at my Facebook feed sometimes and think "Wow, that dude has a great life!" But life without someone you love totally is...I don't know. Lonely, bored and sad?

Actually was supposed to go to a tournament followed by party. Woke up sniffley and honestly, just freaking tired. Slept most of afternoon, waking up to one of those stupid "losing her" nightmares. Can't even take an afternoon nap. Might be from not exercising today. Anyway, kicking it with a burrito made from Hormel chili, waiting for it to be late enough to sleep. That irritating sick place between too well to sleep, but not alert enough to get anything done like studying.