MrsT85

I started doing this a couple months ago. He's been gone almost two years now.

NG and I just adopted these two little babies from a local no-kill rescue a couple weeks ago, finalizing the adoption yesterday. I've always been a cat person, but my Tim was very allergic, so these little ones are my very first pets that weren't also the "family cats" that I had growing up. The little black girl is Flint and the little tabby boy is Tinder. She's about 4 months and he's about 3 months. They're both total sweethearts, but he especially is a little snuggle monster purr machine and I love it

I hear you, Jess. He was finishing up his degree and student teaching when he died - I wish I could have savored those last few months, weeks and days I spent with him. Instead, we were both so stressed out - me about money, he wasn't earning a paycheck while he was student teaching and him about schoolwork, teaching, everything. In retrospect it all seems to petty. I wish I could have just held him and told him I loved him. Instead, I said goodbye to him one morning as I was leaving work, and then never ever saw him again. Yep. Sudden death sucks.

I loved being married for 25 years but I love the freedom of being single at this stage of my life. Maybe if I had gotten those 25 years, I'd feel similarly. But I got 3.5 years and lost him at 27, right as I was wanting to begin the starting-a-family/putting-down-roots stage of my life with my husband. MS, I'm with you. I knew from my early 20s, I was happiest as the other half of of a whole. I loved being married. I would have loved to been able to rack up 20+ years worth of anniversaries. I might have gotten the family, the home, the future I wanted - at least for a little while. Maybe if I had gotten that experience the first time around and I would be less eager to try for another go-round. But at this stage of my life - at almost 30 - I'm still looking to start my "grown-up" life with a mate for the FIRST time.

I agree wholeheartedly, SVS. Reading their stories, hearing the hoops they would often have to jump through...it made my blood boil. I am so very happy to hear love won over prejudice and closeminded, outdated tradition. Seeing page after page of happy couples reacting with so much exuberance and unmitigated joy brings a huge smile to my face and many many tears to my eyes.

Yes, yes, yes. This is exactly how I feel about my New Guy (now Fiance) as well. I knew instantly I would never find another Tim. That I'd never find another person who clicked with me quite as well and in quite the same way - he really and truly was my best friend in addition to being my wonderful husband. So I told myself right away - don't even try to look for that again. I was 19 when I started dating Tim, and in all honesty I just don't think it's possible to find that level of comfort and intimacy again because I'll never be that kid that I was when I met Tim, that kid that he helped turn into the adult I am today. His fingerprints are all over the person I've become - it's no ones fault that no one else will fit the impressions he left as perfectly as he did. And I have to be okay with that if I'm ever going to be happy again. Fiance is a good, loving patient man who fell in love with me knowing full-well how complicated it would be. And not only has he stuck around almost 2 years now, also wants to become the next Mr. Rebecca. He makes me happy, and I seem to make him happy too. And that's enough

Holy hell, do I know what that's like. Especially the part about moving his massive CD collection. He and I were both media collectors - we have/had just an enormous numbers of books, movies and music on both CDs and vinyl. And he was so proud and so protective it, as it took years and years to amass. I remember so many nights when I sobbed alone in my room with his urn, "taking care of all of this was NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE A ONE PERSON JOB!" I know how much it all meant to him, and I feel such tremendous pressure to take care of it all and love it all the same way he did. It's what I have left of him - it's the one thing I can still do *for* him. I've moved three times in the 26 months since he died, the most recent time into an apartment I'm sharing with my new fiance. It's so odd, having three people's lives packed into one small city apartment (although I'm in Chicago, not NYC). ((HUGS)) and good luck. I know how awful it is...

I miss my concert buddy and musical discussion partner. Tim was so enthusiastic and so knowledgeable and so smart and so articulate (often tending towards pedantic ) when it came to music, our primary shared passion. We looked forward to the weekend-long summer music festivals like they were extravagant vacations. Concerts were like holidays. The first "cruise" to listen to an album in the car was an event unto itself. I felt like being with him both kept me sharp and helped me be so much cooler than I would have been otherwise. I just loved the person he helped me be. Now without him, I've felt that favorite part of myself atrophy. New Guy is great, and he and I have a lot in common that Tim and I didn't, but he certainly lacks that fierce and wonderful music loving streak. And without a partner to share this passion with, I feel myself getting more out-of-touch, less informed, just overall more dead inside when it comes to what used to be a very strong and important driving passion. And because I know that shift is all my own fault - I *should* be able to carry on and make him proud - it just leads to me mental self-flagellation. I liked the Wife-of-Tim version of me so much more than the Widow-of-Tim version...

((Jen)) I'm so sorry you're so down. I am sending positive thoughts your way and sincerely hope you find a moment or two or genuine joy as you're spending time with your children this weekend. I know we can try to fill the gaping hole in our souls with distractions and sometimes even new people, but in the end, there's just no getting around the fact that we'll always be so lonesome for THEM.

I'm proud of you too, AW. Your strength and your love for your Alex have amazed me since my first day in this community - I think you've only gotten more amazing over the 2+ years I've been reading your posts. I hope today went as easily as possible for you and that each coming Thursday is easier than the last.

The article is about the grief he lives with following the sudden death of his brother 25 years ago, but it pretty perfectly sums up how I feel about losing my Tim so suddenly. I generally think of myself as "Beyond Active Grieving" (no longer paralyzed by sadness, rebuilding my life and planning for a future with a new Fiance), but worry that I haven't seem to reach the sky-high levels of happiness that some who've recoupled have. Reading that others feel the same way about people they loved so deeply (although in his case, a sibling rather than a husband) and are okay with that gives me some comfort. "I have to really force myself to think that things are going to be OK in terms of worrying about my family, myself or one of my friends," he says. "I've never been the same since my brother died. There's a melancholy in me that never goes away. I'm 50 percent happy and 50 percent sad at any given moment." As painful as it has been to cope with this loss, Thornton has chosen to embrace his grief. "I don't want to forget what it felt like when he died, because he deserves [that remembrance]. That's how important he was to me," Thornton says. "So, if I have to suffer and I have to be sad for the rest of my life, and if I have to be lonely without him... then that's the way I honor him. It's an anguish that he doesn't believe will ever go away. "I'll be sad and melancholy about that forever. I know it and I accept it and I live with it," he says. "But I think it's OK. I think it's OK to have all those feelings."" http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/06/11/billy-bob-thornton-brother-death_n_7555610.html

Many congrats, lcoxwell! What a huge achievement and a huge step

I've been struggling with this too, in addition to the loss of sympathy that you and others describe. I feel like overall, I'm just far less invested in the world. I care a lot less about most of the things that used to take up most of my mental energy. Even good things - things that I used to get really excited about - hit me a far more subdued, almost numbed-out way. Fiance and I were talking about the new Star Wars movie about a week ago, and my automatic answer to one of his questions has been haunting me ever since. He asked if I was excited about it, and my answer (which was far more honest then I intended to be, at least when speaking out-loud) was, "Oh, you know how dead inside I am. I don't get excited about anything." I immediately tried to laugh it off as a morbid joke, but my own answer actually startled me. It could have been the result of a confluence of things - work has been incredibly shitty lately AND Tim absolutely adored Star Wars and was excited about the prospect of the new JJ Abrams movie (it was announced shortly before he died) so this might have been more an visceral reaction to the specific question while I was already depressed about work, but part of me worries that it's something deeper. That yes, there is an important part of me that is just broken. I'm encouraged to hear that this sort of thing usually gets better over time. I'm at a little over two years out now - sometimes I need to remind myself that as long as these last two years have felt, it's still really not that much time...

For me, the reason to move it from one hand to the other was because I knew I wanted to wear it for the rest of my life, regardless of what else may happen to me in the future. I wasn't married nearly as long as you - I was 27 when he died, we were married just over 3 years and 10 months. I was (and still am) so young, but I knew pretty early on that I wanted love again. I was so happy being some wonderful person's "other half," so I knew remarriage was something I was aspiring to. I didn't want to have to stop wearing the ring Tim gave me (he'll always be my husband, I'll always be his wife) even if I married someone else. I got engaged a few months ago, so my new ring sits on my left ring finger - as will my second wedding ring. The ring Tim gave me (along with my first wedding ring) sits on my right hand, where it will stay. Forever. I know it's a little odd, but I figure I'll just wear a set on each hand for the rest of my life.

That's a really good question, and one that until you brought it up I had never thought of. Mine is kind of a family heirloom - I actually wore my mother's gown (can you tell we're related? ), and I imagine had Tim and I had a daughter I would have wanted to pass it along to her as well. Right now it's at my parents' house, still boxed up from how we got in back from the cleaners 6 years ago. I don't honestly see myself ever getting to a place where I could part with it because of the sentimental value it holds from BOTH of our weddings. Plus, it was a gift from my mother. One that I'm sure I'll be grateful to have once she's gone too. So I'm guessing I'll likely hold on to it forever, probably keeping it with my parents until they sell their house, at which point I'll hopefully have a house of my own in which to tuck it away for safe keeping. Who knows, I might still have a daughter, and they might end up wanting to use their Nana's dress one day. The dress I've picked as the likely one for my wedding next summer will be short and summery and more casual - the one from my mother is much fancier and far more ornate.

This is so very sad. The poor man has been through so much loss. I've always really liked Joe Biden and appreciated how no-nonsense and honest he is when it comes to just about anything. I think he's an inspiration when in comes to both rising above heartache and tragedy, and in keeping and acknowledging one's humanity, even as they climb to one of the most powerful position in American politics. Right after Tim died (and I do mean right after - like within the first day or two) I dug this video up and would watch it over and over again. I remember watching it with Tim when it was first on TV, and how impressed his was with the frankness and amount of caring the vice-president showed to the families he was speaking to. And then feeling like I needed to hear those words again - from another car accident widow no less - in the aftermath of my own loss. I wanted to share it again, both as a tribute to the Biden family, and in hopes that someone else here will find some comfort in it as well. The speech itself starts at the 1:30 mark, I think I've queued the link up in the right place. https://youtu.be/fLSjrS0bb08?t=1m29s I sincerely hope the vice-president and his family are finding their own love and comfort and leaning on each other for support this sad morning. This is such terrible news.

Raising my virtual glass with you, MS. I found the old ywbb on 4/9/13, just three days after losing my Tim. I was tossing and turning on my parents' couch, trying to get some sleep (HA!) when I thought my racing mind would be better occupied trying to find grief resources. I googled "young widow support group" and found the old YWBB. I read the stories of some other 20something widows. Even some others that were widowed the same way as me - car accident. I actually think the dear Alexswife was one of the very first people who responded to the flurry of disjointed PMs I sent out those first few days. Knowing that I wasn't alone, that I wasn't the only one dealing with this maddening journey? That the crazy thoughts racing through my head were "normal" (or at least fairly common) for someone in my position? It is absolutely unbelievable how much it helped then and how much it continues to help now, more than two years later. This community is a gem. I was so lucky to have found it, and to have found all of you. *clink*

TS, I hope you don't mind if I hijack your thread for just a moment to tell SVS: You always have the sweetest, most thoughtful, most profound and most helpful things to say. Reading you message to TS about how Scott must have felt as she cared for him in their home together brought tears to my eyes. You are a treasure. TS, I'm glad you were able to have your moment with Scott and your garden. I hope that as hard as it was, it set your mind a bit at ease and lifted at least a tiny burden from your shoulders.

I switched mine from my left to my right hand at a few months out. And while that was the plan all along, I actually did it a little sooner than I meant or wanted to because I did something stupid. The fingers on my right hand are about a half size larger than those on my left, and after reading a thread similar to this one on the old YWBB, I almost absentmindedly (fitting, as my mind was mostly absent those first few months) slipped it onto my right ring finger. It got stuck, and I had to go to an immediate care center to get it cut off (what a pitiful sight I might have been, panicking and sobbing at the clinic). When I took it in to be repaired, I just had them size it to my right hand, where it still sits as I type this. And where I intend to keep it for the rest of my life. His ring (along with my wedding bouquet, which I had creamated with him) is with him in his urn.

Along these lines - right after Tim died, I developed a very intense crush on my happily married BIL - his younger brother. And even as it was happening, I knew why. He was the person in this world the most like my Tim. He looks like him. He has a lot of the same mannerisms. And most importantly, he has very very similar interests. Initially, it helped me miss Tim just a little bit less to spend time with him. Luckily, because he's both happily married and a good and respectful person, I was never really put in a situation where I'd have to use self-control to avoid a potentially awkward or relationship-damaging occurrence, which ended up being a really good thing because I later ended up moving in with him and his wife for about a year. By then, I had already met NG and my feelings for my BIL had mostly waned. But yeah. Makes perfect sense to me that you'd be attracted to his brother. I know I was, and can't say for certain how I'd reacted had I been in your shoes in that situation. Best of luck figuring it all out

Oh my lord, do I understand this. I've been engaged since Christmas. Most people in my office don't even know I've started dating again, and only two of them (my manager and her assistant) know that "this new fellow I've been seeing" is actually New Fiance. I'm the youngest widow in my office by (I'm guessing at least) 25 years. I don't want to here the "it's so nice you've moved on" or "you were so young, we knew you'd find someone new!" comments either....

Oh god yes. To be fair, I tended to do this even BEFORE his accident, but now I'm so much worse about it than before. I think once you have the worst-case-scenerio hit you once, you can't help but expect it again. I'm having some unpleasantness with my job at the moment, and was talking to my mother about how unstable so many aspects of my life feel. She said, "at least you have New Guy you can count on and help support you." I reminded her - the last man who promised I could count on him now lives in an urn on the bookshelf. "But that probably won't happen again." AND WHY NOT? It already happened to me once!

I have found that the two aren't mutually exclusive, at least for me. I too started dating very early out (I met New Guy at three months out), and I think that while it did help early on with the most intense feelings of loneliness, it maybe complicated some other aspects of the whole process. I think for me, there aren't such things as simple or straightforward emotions anymore.

While on my break this afternoon, I clicked through to this story about "honest empathy cards" designed by a cancer patient in her 20s. While I don't have much experience with cancer, I thought some of you all might appreciate the bluntness and sweet-but-cynical sense of humor of her designs. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2015/05/08/empathy-cards-serious-illness_n_7243148.html And I think we can all relate at least a little bit to the first card - the one that has the message "Please let me be the first to punch the next person who tells you everything happens for a reason. I'm sorry you're going through this." Had I received a card that said something like that after losing my Tim, I think it would have framed it...

Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry that happened! I remember when I was a teenager and doing cart duty at the grocery store where I worked, I couldn't handle more than 5 or so carts at once. 30 carts?? Ouch sounds like quite an understatement! I'm glad you reported it right away. That company has more money than god, so hopefully they will end up on the hook if you end up needing any medical attention or anything down the line. They're a freaking grocery store/pharmacy - the least they could have done was offer you a free icepack and bottle of pain relievers!!