lcoxwell

I hate that you have lost your love, too. I hate it for all of us. Even at nearly 14 months out, I still hate that my Kenneth is gone. There are still many days, when I am operating on "auto pilot". At the same time, there are days, when the sun shines on my life and I can find moments of joy and happiness, again. Eventually, you will, too. In the meantime, just remember to be good to yourself, and to take care of yourself. Eat, sleep, and exercise, when you can. Drink plenty of water. Allow yourself to cry, but also allow yourself to smile, from time to time. Take things one minute, one hour, one day, at a time, if you need to. When all else fails, just breathe. Those slow, deep, concentrated breaths really do help.

My daughter was married, about 8 months after my Kenneth died. She wanted to have a way to remember him and have him be a part of her wedding, so she took her favorite picture of him and a "memory box" with a dried flower from his funeral and placed them on a small table at the front of the church. Then, she walked herself down the aisle, carrying both her bouquet and his boutonniere. Before joining her husband-to-be at the altar, she stopped to place the boutonniere inside the memory box and closed the box. It was just a brief moment of observance, but it was absolutely lovely. After the wedding, we took the picture and placed it on the table next to where I was sitting at the reception. We made sure there were a couple of pictures taken, of the table, the memory box, and Kenneth's picture, so that there would be a record that he was there at the wedding, and that he was remembered.

Widowed, or not, I think we all wish that there were times, when we could run away from adulthood and shirk all our responsibilities. I think widowhood just adds an extra layer, because we have to not only deal with the usual struggles of life, but we also have the endless grief on top of that. I know, I have had the desire to run away far more often, since losing my Kenneth, than I ever did before. Your trip sounds lovely, and I am sorry that things went bad, shortly after you arrived home. (((Hugs)))

I am so very sorry, that your birthday was overlooked. It adds to our grief, when that one person, who always recognized our special days is gone, and those that are left fail to acknowledge it. Happy Birthday! I hope your day gets better.

I could have written your post, almost word for word. While I do not have any words of advice or encouragement, I can tell you that I completely relate. (((Hugs)))

There are only a handful of pictures that were actually taken of my Kenneth and I together, over the years. Here is one I ran across yesterday. This one was taken a few years ago, at the first birthday party for Kenneth's great nephew. Kenneth had just gotten out of the hospital a few days before.

I am so glad that you have found an amazing woman, and hope that things continue to go well for the two of you.

Thank you all. While I am so sad that we have to be here together, due to the loss of our loves; I am thankful that there are people, who understand. I have been pretty good at avoiding those triggers and putting off the pain, thus far, but I know the time is quickly approaching, where I will have no choice, but to sort through his belongings. I know it is going to be painful and hard, but I also know it is a necessary step towards healing.

Tonight, I witnessed the end of very bad marriage, as one of my closest friends in life, who has also been my teaching assistant for the last three years, packed up her things to walk away from a twelve year marriage, for her own safety and sanity. Honestly, that was a HARD thing to watch, much harder than I would have thought. As I sat there, seeing the pain etched on her face, my memories returned to past relationships of my own, where I was cheated on, where I was the victim of acquaintance rape, and later, where I was nearly killed by my first husband and hospitalized for three days. I know what it is like to be hurt by the men, who have professed their love, only to take that "love" and twist it into something ugly and mean. I know what it is like to feel that hurt and shame, and to feel like a failure, when the relationship did not work out. My heart truly goes out to my friend tonight, and I wish there was something I could do to make her feel better. Tonight, I looked into her eyes and I saw the ghost of what I once was, the questioning, the self doubt, the pain, and I was suddenly overcome with a feeling of gratefulness. As hard as the last few weeks have been, and as much as I have been once again actively grieving the loss of my Kenneth recently, I am grateful that he truly loved me, the best that he could. He had his faults, and he wasn't perfect. There were times when our marriage wasn't as good as it could have been. Not once, though, did I ever have to question whether he was being faithful to me. Not once, did he ever lay a hand on me to cause me physical harm. Without a doubt, I can honestly say that he loved me, and that he loved my kids, until his dying breath. For the rest of my life, I can know that at least once, I was truly loved, and for that, I shall be eternally grateful. Tonight, I realized just how lucky I am. Looking at my friend, made me see that not everyone in life is fortunate enough to know what it is like to hear someone say "Till death do us part", and then have that person honor that vow. Seeing her walk out of her home tonight, I realized that not everyone knows what it is to truly be loved. With that being said, tonight, I want to thank you Kenneth, for loving me fully and for showing me what it is like to feel secure in the fact that I was loved.

My Sexy Widowed Saturday Night plans to remain in my pajamas for the entire day and do absolutely nothing, whatsoever, have changed. My teaching assistant sent me a text a little while ago and asked me to join her and another friend of hers (from out of state) in packing up her things for her move. I am a non-drinker, but as she put it, I could sit there and watch the other friend poor shots, while my assistant and I cry our eyes out. Apparently, her husband's new girlfriend will be serving her with divorce papers at some point in the evening, too, so this night should just be a complete barrel of fun. Now, who could resist an invitation like that? By the way SVS, thank you so much for the extra especially tight hug. Right now, I need all I can get. Love ya, lady!

I am going to apologize in advance, because this is likely going to be long and rambling. In the last couple of weeks, I have been bombarded with so many mixed emotions about life, about loss, and about my future, that it is nearly crippling me and keeping me from functioning, due to being so lost in my own thoughts. I am hoping that, by sharing my thoughts, I will find others that have felt this way; and if not, that sharing it will at least help me sort some of this out. Several months ago, New Guy, who lives just over two hours away, asked me to move closer to him, so we could spend more time together. After giving it great thought, I know that this is the right thing to do, for me. Continuing to live in the house I shared with Kenneth and to stay in this little town (that I only moved to 14 years ago, so I could be with Kenneth) is holding me back, in some ways, and keeping me from moving from active grieving to beyond active grieving. As long as I stay here, I think I shall stay mired in my grief, if that makes sense. On the other hand, though, as excited as I am to be making a move and to be doing something that will ultimately make my life better, I think, the whole idea of moving, of going through Kenneth's things, of searching for a new job, and of packing/unpacking and settling in to a new place overwhelms me beyond words. As the move gets closer, I am feeling much more morose and maudlin, than I expected. The grief waves are hitting faster and harder than they have, in a while. I am so filled with sadness, because I feel like moving on means leaving my Kenneth behind. I hate the idea of walking away from the life I had with him, but the reality is, I will never have that life again, and it truly hurts that that realization is sinking in with such clarity. I love him, will always love him, but I can never, ever be with him again, not even for one moment. Also, as the move gets closer, I am finding the need to visit his grave more often, knowing that I won't just be able to swing by whenever I want, once I make the move. Yesterday, as I was sitting by his grave, the thought occurred to me that my relationship with New Guy is truly everything Kenneth wanted me to find in a relationship, and that thought brought a smile, which was quickly followed by feelings of sadness and regret. I also found it very odd that I should be sitting there by the grave of my deceased husband, thinking about my new love, but there I was, doing just that. There is more love, more passion, more openness and joy, more compatibility, and more peace with New Guy, than I have found in any relationship I have ever had with anyone, including Kenneth. Everything about my relationship with New Guy is simple and easy and natural. He and I just "fit". With New Guy, I truly feel a sense of belonging, as though, after years of wandering in the desert, I have found an oasis. With New Guy, I feel like I have finally found the one person in the world that God molded and made, just for me. Much of what makes my new relationship so wonderful, are the lessons I learned from my marriage to Kenneth, especially learning that life is far too short to live with regrets and thoughts of "I wish I had done this, or said that". Because of my life with Kenneth, and my loss, I have learned to truly appreciate and enjoy every good moment. Kenneth's death taught me to live life to the fullest and to embrace love, with no holding back, so I am far more open with my love, affection, and appreciation for New Guy, than I ever was with Kenneth, or anyone else, for that matter. In many ways, Kenneth's death has made me a better partner, and I am truly grateful to have someone I can love so deeply and cherish as much as I do New Guy. Sitting by Kenneth's grave though, as the feelings of sadness and regret rolled in, I found myself apologizing to Kenneth and thinking that he should have had the parts of me that New Guy is enjoying, too. Kenneth deserved to be loved with such abandon. I couldn't help but think, as the tears rolled down my face, that I should have loved him more, should have kissed him more, should have held his hand and laughed and forgiven and appreciated him so much more than I did. So now, I am filled with love, excitement, appreciation, joy, sadness, regret, hope, and despair, all rolled into one. For those of you, who are in serious relationships, have you felt this kind of mixed bag of emotions, too? If so, how did you deal with it?

This made me laugh, which I really, really needed today. My Kenneth was known for having a bit of a sick, twisted humor, at times. He was also known for being quite the ladies' man before he met me, and for sleeping around with a large number of women, also before he met me. He was one of those men that just oozed sexuality. Early in our marriage, and up until his health issues prevented it, we had a very, VERY healthy sex life. Had this been around, while he was still alive, he likely would have arranged to get one for me, as well, and would have thought it was the funniest thing ever. He just would have been disappointed, that he couldn't see me open the box, when it arrived.

I am so sorry, that you are struggling and cannot give your daughter all that you would like. I can completely relate to struggling financially and not having the money to pay for all the things, that every other parent in the world seems to come up with the money for, and I can completely relate to the devastation and sense of being an inadequate parent, because I haven't been able to pay for things, either. My children missed out on so many things, while my Kenneth was still alive, because all of our time, resources, energy, and money had to go toward him. My daughter was the only one in her band that did not get to make a trip to Hawaii, because we did not have the money. She also missed out on Disneyland, several dances, and other school activities; and I had no money for either her senior portraits, or my son's. My son missed out on pretty much everything, but he always said he really didn't want yearbooks or dances, anyway. My daughter is academically gifted, skipped a grade in school, and graduated just three weeks, after turning 17. She has taken a few community college classes, that she had to pay for, but I have not had the money to send her or her brother to college. What a waste, for such a brilliant mind, who has so much potential. This past December, she got married, and she and her husband paid for everything, because I could not even afford to help pay for any of it, even though a bride's parent is supposed to pay for the wedding, and nearly five months later, I am still struggling to recover from the financial loss of taking time off work, without pay, and traveling across country to attend her wedding. I say all this, to let you know that, at least on some level, I truly understand how you feel. I, too, often feel like a failure as a parent. In the grand scheme of things, though, I have learned that the single, most important thing you can possibly do for your children is to simply love them and to tell them and show them each and every day just how deep that love is. Yes, it is disappointing that they are missing out on certain aspects of life's key moments, but in the long run, what they care about the most, is that they are loved.

Today, I made the mistake of picking up a couple of old photo albums of Kenneth's, while eating a late lunch, and saw pictures I had completely forgotten we had of him, of the kids, and of our life together. I also saw pictures of his family and life, before he and I married each other. Stupid mistake, when I was already feeling down. A major grief wave is now crashing down on me, and I'm a crying mess. I miss the life I once had, and I miss him terribly.

This is exactly how I feel, right now. In the grand scheme of things, considering all I have been through in the last few years, I am doing as well as could be expected. I have a decent job, and surviving on autopilot is getting me through my days, but I want more than that for my life.

This is pretty much where I am right now. I simply have nothing inspiring to say, but do want to acknowledge that I read your post, and that I am sorry you are hurting. I wish with all my heart, there was something more I could do to ease your pain.

I have absolutely no problem, whatsoever, with talking about it, not even for a moment. He fought a good fight for over thirteen years, to hang on for me; and I have no problem acknowledging the fact that he did all he could, but it was time for him to let go. Of course, when I tell new people, I can sense their discomfort, as they give me the awkward looks we all recognize and fumble for words of comfort that are so inadequate, given all I have been through. So very often, I then find myself in a strange role reversal, where I end up comforting them, when they don't have the right words; and I am somehow making them feel better, by telling them how he was ready to let go and that dying was what he wanted, after suffering for so long.

It's only about 1:00 pm, where I am, but I doubt the rest of my day is going to be any different from the first part of my day. With all the stress, extra work (with my teaching assistant now gone, just a few short weeks before the end of school), health issues, financial worries, etc., I have had to deal with recently, I am choosing to take this day to do absolutely nothing. I am still in my pajamas (the cute ones I wore, for the very first time, on the last good night I had with my Kenneth). I am pondering the fact that I am at a crossroad in my life, and need to figure out what I am doing with my life. I am missing my Kenneth, terribly. I am depressed, because I don't have the gas money to go spend the weekend with my New Guy; and he is working, so he can't come to me. I'm also feeling a deep sense of loss today. My teaching assistant resigned, due to a very bad situation in her home and having to make an immediate move out of state. I completely support her, in her decision to leave an abusive, cheating spouse. At the same time, she was the only person I had left, here in my little town, that I was genuinely close to and could count on for help, when I needed it. She was the only person I could write down as an emergency contact, when I have to go to the ER, due to my migraines. The fact that she is moving this weekend, just reminds me of all the people, who have moved away or left my life in the last few years, which was okay, when my Kenneth was still alive; but now that he is gone, I just feel so alone and lost and empty. Pretty sexy way to spend a Saturday, huh? :'(

Thank you all so much for the prayers and words of kindness. I am so touched by all of your thoughtfulness. Here is just a little update of what is going on, and why I am struggling so much, at the moment: 1) As is often the case with widowhood, the loss of the additional financial support from our spouses can hit some of us very hard. For me, I am operating on about $18,000 a year less annually, than I was before, with roughly the same bills. Each month, things have gotten a little worse, than the one before. It has now reached a point, where I am not sure how I am going to pay most of my bills and buy gas and groceries this upcoming month. To make matters worse, I am having issues with my truck, several things need to be replaced or repaired around the house, and my son needs to have his wisdom teeth pulled, none of which I have the money for. 2) I am down to the final weeks of school, am buried in end of the year paperwork and IEPs, have the most difficult group of students to teach that I have had in YEARS, and my teaching assistant quit, without warning, effective immediately, leaving me without any support and having to do my job and hers both, unless they can find a competent sub to come in at the last minute. 3) I need to move this Summer, which means going through my house, including Kenneth's belongings. Grief issues have me overwhelmed with the idea of going through his things, but I will have no choice. He had so much "stuff", that my house is packed to the gills, and I have no idea where to even begin or what to even do with most of it. Just the mere thought of all that needs to be done leaves me exhausted and reduced to tears. 4) If I am going to move, I need to find a teaching position in the area I want to move to. Right now, there is nothing available, but even if there were, I have no time to even think about putting together a resume, introduction letter, etc., and gather all the documentation needed to prove I am qualified to teach, especially since there is a good possibility Kenneth threw it all away or placed it in some obscure place in the house, which could take me hours to locate. I also hate having to ask people for letters of recommendation (even though I know they would be willing to write them), when I know the principal and teachers I work with are so busy with end of the year activities. 5) Due to financial issues, I am very worried about how I am going to mange a move. The area I am moving to has more expensive rent, and I may have trouble finding a place that I can financially manage. I am also stressed about my dogs, because not everyone is willing to rent to pet owners. One of my dogs is a Pit Bull, and though she is very sweet, Pits have a bad reputation. I may be forced to get rid of my dogs, which seriously worries me. 6) There are also a number of other issues going on, all of which is affecting my health. My fibromyalgia and headaches are causing me a great deal of pain. There are also other health problems, which I am unable to do anything about, at the moment, due to finances. With all that is going on, I barely make it through the day. By the time I get home, I am so exhausted, that all I want to do is crawl into bed and do nothing. ~ Sorry this is so long. I guess I am just having a really hard time right now, and needed to get it out.

Dear, sweet Maureen, I wish I had something better to say than, just to say I am sorry, but right now, I just have no words. I am sending you tight hugs and warm wishes. I know how inadequate those words are. I just wish I could do more.

Up until recently, I made a point of checking in at least once a day, or every other day, to catch up on everyone's posts and to make more than my fair share of comments, I'm sure. (My Mother always told me I talked too much and that all my size went to my mouth). Even when I didn't have time for comments, I read every word that you all had written. Sadly, the last few weeks, I have not had time to read or to respond, as I would like. I have been having some health issues, some grief issues, and some issues with just plain being overwhelmed with life. For the first time, I am not going to have to time go back and catch up on all I have missed, and I am sorry about that. I just wanted you all to know, I have missed you. I have missed reading your stories and sharing just a small piece of your lives, and I have missed your words of comfort and encouragement, when I have felt broken. Hopefully, things will ease up soon, and I can return to checking in regularly. In the meantime, know that I am thinking of you all and wishing that you are doing well and finding peace and joy in your lives.

I truly am sorry, that you are having to face the birth of your baby girl without your husband there, by your side, as he should be. I cannot even begin to imagine what you are going through, though I am sure your are filled with many mixed emotions. I will be keeping you in my thoughts tomorrow, and I hope all goes well for your and your baby.

Like MissingSquish and Jen, there wasn't a single, definable moment, in which the realization truly sank in that I was a widow. Rather, there have been a number of small, nearly indiscernible moments of clarity, in which my reality hit me square in the face. Some of those moments have come at expected times, such as those few small moments, after my Kenneth took his final breath, and that first night I faced sleeping alone, without him. Other times, it sort of sneaks up on me. I will be going along just fine, and then, BAM! One moment, I will be in the grocery store, trying to decide whether to pick up steak or chicken for dinner, thinking I should call him and get his opinion, when it occurs to me, I am widowed. There is no one at home to call, no one to cook for, no one to enjoy a meal with....

I wanted to respond with something heartfelt and with something that could either encourage you, or at least reassure you in some way, but today, I simply have no words. If I am able, I will come back in a day or two, with something meaningful. In the meantime, just know I am thinking of you and that I, too, feel like I am struggling to climb the mountain, each day. (((Hugs)))

You have managed to stub your toe on various objects in the house, that are in the exact same location they have been in for the last several years, not once, not twice, not even three times, but FOUR TIMES IN TWO DAYS. My toe is now bruised, and it hurts, when I walk. :-\