Heartspy

3 years and still breathing. This site is a huge comfort. As the 3rd year approached, I found the same type of support that I received at 6 months out,, on the old site. A place to puke, to rest my weary heart and confused head. I so appreciate the honesty -the clarity- the quality-the reality as widow/ers, that we share, without the fear of judgement or dismissal. CBB: If I could take a magic wand and wave it across your suffering, I would. Wids really do make the best pillows- a soft landing after the hardest blows. Please keep leaning into us. xo

I was just thinking about you JeanGenie! Family and fresh air sound like food medicine! Sending more hugs and fluffy pillows. xo

Kenneth, I hate that we have to welcome you to this board. Cancer is a brutal beast. There were many months I wished that I hadn't survived my husband's cancer, either. The grief was too much.I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. I'd beg him to come get me- to take me with him. I'd come home from work and sometimes only make it to to the living room floor before I'd break down and cry. I cry really ugly, so I'd try my best to hold it together in public. But, had a few melt downs: at the grocery store, work, the car dealership, the doctor's office, the nail salon, the vets office - you get the picture. WidTip: ALWAYS keep your sun glasses on! 8) I did meet another widow on this site (well, the old one: YWBB) and we became and still are great friends. But early on- we would text each other all night. Neither could sleep, so we'd text each other our tears, fears and some really funny shit, too! It helped more than I could ever articulate. We were never shocked or offended by our outburst of insanity, caused by grief. The anxiety (which I never experienced before his diagnosis/death) was alarming! I didn't take meds, but my doc wrote the Rx for them and told me, "This isn't because I think you're crazy, this is because I don't want you to feel crazy- through this insanely difficult time." Just knowing the script was in my drawer made me a smidge calmer. Weird, but, true. This board and all the beautiful wids are my pillow - I come here to rest my head. It's been 3 years since my husband had to leave his body, but he has never left my heart. Love Is Stronger Than Death. Trust that.

Anything that makes a widow feel supported and stronger, is a good idea. Gentle hugs to you, as you navigate thru the emotional mess, of the upcoming 5 year death anniversary, of your husband. I feel like every month on the calendar is symbolic to something/somewhere my husband and I did or had been. I guess that makes for nice memories, but that doesn't float my happy balloon, just yet. I just cried thru the 3 year anniversary. Still in disbelief of how time marches forward, without him. How it bombarded me with every single detail and emotion (mostly fear!) of his final days/hours. This board was the only place I could come to rest & digest, without having to explain that my brain understands what happened - but, my heart just still can't believe it happened. We all feel that way and something about that makes it less lonely. Sending you comfort and support.

Maybe it's the 3rd year when we no longer have "the fog" to keep us from seeing the brutal reality. I'm not sure, but I wish for all of us that it didn't have to be so blind-siding. It feels a little like year one- obsessing all day about getting home, so I can put on my pj's and go to bed- just to play a few hundred games of solitaire on my ipad. So pathetic. And I don't care!! haha. A nod to "rifatheroffour" for the statement: " The worst thing grief has stolen from me is hope and the ambition and drive I once knew so well." - true dat! Somehow knowing we all slide and slumber through April, together, does make it somewhat less lonely, I guess. And we're back to Solidarity. xo

To all my pillows: Thank you for keeping it real. I so appreciate the rawness of your words. The reality of our forever altered, "we survived their deaths," state of consciousness can be so overwhelming. I dragged my puffy eyes to work today, too. Thankfully everyone honored my "please don't mention my birthday" request. I got lots of smiles, side hugs and back pats, but no words to make me engage in the bondage of small talk. (I'm always afraid I'll start screaming. haha- like a lunatic.) No way can I celebrate my life the day after his death, but I did go down to the beach and caught the most amazing sunset (Naples, FL.) and swear I saw him wink at me, from behind the sun. In the very beginning, the relief that his suffering ended was greater than my grief. But now, it's just me coping with life, as a widow. The days when grief takes it's best shots, I have no defense. I just give in. Fuck it- you win, grief. Now, go away. Sending out huge hugs to you all and your gentle broken hearts. xo - Meg

Thanks, Maureen. You're kindness and response are much appreciated. It's hard to articulate the bizarre emotional stuff to "others" - but at least here, I feel understood. Haven't been on this board since the old one closed and grateful I had a place to express my downward slide, without judgement. Widow/ers are the best pillows. We can just rest and lean on each other- no explanation necessary. 💞

3 years ago today. 3 Muthafking years. I thought I was doing ok, for a widow. You know- working, eating, sleeping, laughing, breathing. Then this day shows up and I am crippled. Grief is such a sneaky beast. Paralyzing, really. The compound fracture, of it all, is tomorrow is my birthday. It's so awkward. I will never be able to celebrate my life without thinking about his death. I'm a smidge over 50- so who cares about Birthdays anyway, right? haha. Someday, I hope to evolve enough, spiritually, to look at the two as the same. You know death vs birth = same thing. But, I'm just not there, yet. Not in my heart, anyway. For now, comfort comes from the belief that love is stronger than death. I'll hold onto that.