Rebuilding- Hard, Easy, Between? Tell Us!

[ATJ]

What is Your story?? -

 

Here is mine - Warning: Long!

 

 

Ah yes, the much touted "Rebuilding" - just a simple word, yet laden with so many variables, and resembling a kaleidoscope with ever changing patterns and colors. Where does it begin - Where and When does it end??

 

After the initial sense of utter devastation, which lasted for a long time, I eventually came to realize that somehow I had to find a way to do SOMETHING with the remainder of my earthly existence. Like others, I understood that whether we like it or not, we are still residents of this planet, we've still got a pulse and a heartbeat, even if at times we wished it weren't so. Then one day I looked with blinded eyes at a brightly flashing neon sign whose strobe lights kept emitting the message "Rebuild!" At first it hurt the eyes to even look at it, much less to understand its concept. But soon I kept seeing this sign over and over, and the message became amplified by loudspeakers. It seemed to follow me and became highly annoying, much like an obnoxious TV advertisement, which I instantly put on mute or turn off. But THIS message was undeterred and kept following me, refusing to budge.

 

In utter frustration I finally shouted back "ALRIGHT!" - "But, give me more than just a clever, one-word slogan, and instead provide a precise campaign strategy - OR, get the hell out of my sight!!" -  The word 'Rebuilding' is often quite casually and generically tossed around in all kinds of situations, but it takes on quite a different connotation as it relates to widowhood.  We are constantly being reminded, or even pushed to 'move on' and quickly 'rebuild' -  just follow the simple instructions, you dummy!! And there are so many "operating instructions" and "quick recipes" from just about every conceivable source. Some professional grief literature reads like an operating manual for an appliance. Other unsolicited guidelines come from well-meaning, but ignorant people, whose advice sounds more like a basic recipe for making a cake from a prepared mix - throw in a few extra ingredients, stir, pop into the oven, and bake for an hour, and out comes the perfect cake!! Now, isn't that easy?? We should have thought of that a long time ago, we laggards! - Hmm? Just about everybody seems to have a  'quick fix' answer for us with simple steps to follow. What was I missing here??? I must be completely retarded, I thought!

 

We all know that the eventual reconstruction of our lives is not an option, but imperative, unless we want to crawl into a deep, dark cave and hide, waiting for the end. Our options are few: Learn how to swim in the tumultuous ocean of life, or go under and perish. It's pretty much a "take it or leave it deal". - OK, I got it!! And so I began to roll up my sleeves. But despite enormous efforts, THIS turned out NOT to be the advertised quick fix task, instead more of a massive and intricate recovery project after a disaster.  - First there has to come an extended cleanup of the site to see what's left under the rubble. Then an evaluation of whether or not the original site is reusable and safe or if an entirely new one has to be found. It takes a lot of exploration, engineering, architectural drafts with multiple revisions, finding the right building material, skilled labor, and extended planning before the actual work can begin. It's not a quick doodle of a new outline and a hastily scribbled purchasing list for a quick trip to Home Depot, magically producing a brand new house.

 

In my experience it has rather resembled the monumental task of constructing a majestic cathedral in the days of yore - extremely labor intensive, finding rare elements, and hard, backbreaking work - a project extending over many years. Even the great master builders of that era couldn't hasten the process, it took its own time to construct the new edifice. There were no pre-fabricated concrete walls for shortcuts to quickly put this new structure together, but it was stone upon stone, brick upon brick, and carefully putting in place strong support pillars to prevent it from sudden collapse.

 

It took me quite a while to begin even contemplating this massive assignment as  I had barely emerged from the emotional ICU, still needing recovery and rehab in order to gather strength for the first step. I was not able to make that sudden quantum leap from my state of near annihilation to becoming a builder, despite my inherently determined nature! While I watched many others with a plan in hand and getting building material, all I could do was just to hold on, which became most tiresome and dispiriting. And although the 'baby steps' approach was necessary, it also left me weary and discouraged. I have always been a result oriented forward thinker who plans ahead and needs to see steady progress. In all situations of my life I had believed that input equals output, and that sheer determination and hard work would let me achieve my goals, as they usually did.

 

BUT, this widowhood experience put an entirely different spin on everything. My former defiant, "fix it spirit" got hit with a two-by-four, leaving me reeling and seeing stars like a cartoon character, only it wasn't as funny to me.  I knew that status quo was unsustainable, something HAD to change, and quite drastically!! I got ANGRY at myself, because the more determined I became, and the harder I tried, the worse I felt, and it ensued in even more confusion. My efforts and fierce determination had an inverse effect, which I did NOT understand! Finally I had to grudgingly admit that I could NOT change my situation at will. In utter frustration I was often tempted to just throw in the towel and say "BLEEP IT ALL!"

 

Coming from the corporate world, I wanted to see at least an acceptable ROI (return on investment). But THIS was like participating in a rigged game in a shady back room and had 'Loser' written all over it. I felt as if I had fallen off the 'turnip truck' and everyone was laughing. All of my strategies failed, and I learned that the mind and emotions can be diametrically opposed, and that my emotions ruled supreme, nullifying my mind's sound strategies. I further learned that with Grief and his evil cohort, Trauma, there is no "quid pro quo", no fair and reasonable deal to be struck, no matter what I brought to the negotiating table.

 

But my inherently determined nature wanted to fight back. I had never just quit. And so, in some "Churchillian moments", I proudly proclaimed "I shall Never surrender, Never give up!!"  Yeah right!  Moments later I lay curled up on my bed in the fetal position, sucking my thumb. I could already envision the men with the white straight jacket approaching and hauling me off!

 

 

 

 

However, despite the constant ups and downs, I KNEW that I could not stay where I was. So, the urgent question arose, HOW to get from 'Here' to 'There"? But upon further reflection, I did not even know where "THERE" was. A total blank! That was the real conundrum. All I could do was to trudge forward, while staring at an empty horizon - like an endless walk through the hot desert sand, feeling parched, thirsty and running out of water, and finally crawling toward some mirage. PFFT!! Whoever wrote that 'Rebuilding Manual' must have been either a relative of Superman/Woman or a total dimwit!

 

My feverish mind kept racing round and round until my hair hurt. And while I took small, incremental steps, others were zooming past me. - Then, one day, out of the blue, my former firebrand spirit emerged and gained enough momentum to make me spontaneously charge ahead in a full gallop, non-stop, until I could no longer breathe. I suppose, utter despair can inspire sudden boldness at some point. Wow, I really had run an impressive distance!! New landscape, new view, new people, but WHERE the heck was I??  I did some daring things which I would never have deemed suitable before, discovered latent talents, found new life approaches, and made some spontaneous, even slightly reckless, moves. WHO was this new person?? I no longer recognized myself or my surroundings.

 

Others applauded and said: "YAY!!" "Great Progress! - I could never have done this and admire you!" It all looked and sounded great on the outside, but meanwhile I felt as if I had landed on Mars, and wondered: "What the hell am I doing here??" I had proven to myself that I could be bold and daring and could still think outside the box. So this should be something to celebrate one would think. YET, after having made this quantum leap and completely transforming my life, I suddenly felt confused and scared, and the old anxiety and panic caught up with me, only dressed differently this time.

 

I had spontaneously stepped into the big 'dressing room of life' and tried on new experiences, new people and new approaches. But after I had made my purchases, and the initial rush of excitement about the novelty had abated, many of the acquired items felt "not right", and some felt like an "itchy sweater".  - Another major mind  game! For a long time my 'progress' felt like looking into a distortion mirror and left me confused and lost. - WHAT had I indeed accomplished? Was I any happier, or at least less Unhappy than before??? It was neither, only DIFFERENT!

 

To assuage this big letdown, I tried to count my blessings, even the tiniest ones. Gratitude often gave me a little boost, but the most desired and needed element was still missing. Then I looked at the less fortunate and tried to focus on THEIR plight and helped wherever I could. -  My new goal was to reach a state of inner peace and serenity, which is the foundation of all. Trying to free myself from the chokehold of anxiety and panic, I began to meditate, listened to guided meditation, did yoga, exercised, tried Reiki, took nature walks, traveled to beautiful shores - all in search of tranquility and peace.

 

I'm still not "THERE" yet. On particularly challenging days, when some enlightened people give me the "It's all about the Journey, NOT the destination" speech, I want to throw a pie in their face - well, a very delicious one! ;D - The 'Living in the Moment' philosophy makes eminent sense to me, because all we have is only moments in time. BUT, what if that particular moment stinks to high heaven?? Where's the "reset switch" or the "OM button"?? -  And so the quest for answers, peace and serenity continues for THIS traveler. It has been a very long journey, indeed!

 

But despite all of the above ups and downs, I still seem to be an incurable Hope addict, determined to keep moving forward - at bare minimum not to retreat! I am open and receptive to change and look for some surprises from the universe. Someone said: "You never know what's around the corner!" Hmm,.. let's see!

 

During one of my more placid moments I wrote the following:

 

 

Grieving is very hard

But so is rebuilding

To start a new life

Without having an inkling

 

Where will it all lead

No compass to guide

A daunting task indeed

That makes us want to hide

 

We take some steps forward

Breathe a big sigh of relief

And just when we rejoice

We're hit with new grief

 

We wonder what's wrong

When we thought we were done

But then progress slows down

And we're back to square one

 

Each milestone achieved

Oft' takes us back in turn

And reminds us of that

For which we still yearn

 

It's a seemingly endless

Drawn out tug of war

As back and forth we go

And wish upon a star

 

New hopes and new dreams

Take us up and then down

Will the rollercoaster ever end

We ask with a big frown

 

It's a wearisome process

And it tires, indeed

But Forward we must go

We must NOT retreat!

 

We've come this far

So let Hope be our guide

To give us courage and trust

As we take the next stride!!

 

    ~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

 

 

Thank you for reading! What has been YOUR experience? - Fast, slow lane, or something in between??

 

Tell us your story, please!

 

ATJ

 

 

[marjoe]

ATJ, ah...you've expressed  pretty much everything that's in my head. How do you do this?? Ok, here's mine. I've kept my/our business going for almost 7 years. A huge freaking learning curve, which actually mirrored my grieving process, now that I think on it. It's been for sale for 3 years. I love it, I've owned it and give it 100%, but there's a bittersweet emotion about the whole freaking thing. This year (year 7) has been extremely tough - I don't know why exactly. Because I think I'm ready for something else but it scares the shit out of me? Yet there's an undercurrent of maybe, maybe I can do...whatever, that's also there? I think I'm asking more than I'm answering - Marsha

[BrokenHeart2]

At 22 months out (I know, not very long) your post and your poem resonated be to the core. Ebb and flow, up and down.  I just want a calm peacefulness but I think it's going to take so much more time. My Stepkids have a happy Mom and I think by now they want me that way.  I don't show them my despair but I can't hide my grief. It's not like I emote around them but I'm just not the old me and they want the old me back.  How do I go forward? So many family and friends want the old me back but she died on May 30, 2013 too.

HeartBroken2

Oh God, I feel so broken.

[anniegirl]

I'm just not the old me and they want the old me back

 

I know there are people who wish I was the "old me" but - in my case - it's not that she died, she just stopped working. I just couldn't make her work for me anymore. Everything about her and the life she lived felt wrong. Confining. Irritating. Frustrating. Rote.

 

Some people, who know only my widowhood story, applaud the sureness of purpose and the swift, decisive way I moved forward and onward. But if you know my caregiving story too, you know that I was married to a man who had dementia, who didn't know me or our child. I was caring for a stranger and then a shell for nearly 3 years before he died.

 

I had a very long time to think about what I wanted and didn't want widowhood to be.

 

I didn't quite hit the ground running, but close enough.

 

Rebuilding, as ATJ notes, is the holy grail of tragedy survivors. It's what we are aimed at by family and friends and the self-help industry.

 

If we hit the second year without X,Y or Z accomplished or in sight, still feeling out of sorts in ways that are obvious to those still paying attention (and most of them aren't), we feel like we've failed.

 

There is an excellent book on grief called The Other Side of Sadness. It's just about the only real research on grief that looks at it from the point of view of the grieving and discounts entirely the notion of steps and it's rather reassuring, pointing out that from a functioning perspective nearly everyone comes "back online" between 6ish months and two years.

 

It's not nirvana. Your life and happiness are still your personal responsibility, but the surreal feelings settle and fade. You can breath again. Feel again. Take interest and make plans. Get hopeful if you want.

 

But the problem isn't - never was - that you don't heal. The problem is that your world view has changed. Your sense of safety and fairness has been profoundly shaken. And on some very deep levels, you aren't not the same person anymore, so your life isn't the fit it was prior to your loss.

 

Is it a wonder that we feel like we are making no progress when we try to put our very different selves back into the pattern of our old lives, which is what everyone wants us to do - so, hey, no pressure - and why we feel life we are failing or flailing.

 

My personal story is a boring one. It was not easier or harder than anyone else's. I had changed and I had to make changes to my life to accommodate the new person I'd become.

 

I am just as human as anyone else and so I like change about as much as everyone else. Somethings were easier. Others quite difficult. And just when I think I am content and ready to put on the finishing touches, something "comes up". Life does not care about my plans anymore now than it did over a decade ago.

 

I get frustrated because I think I should have accomplished something tangible by now. Started a business. Written and published a book. Found enlightenment.

 

I live in a nice little town where - for the first time in my whole life - I am considered "one of us". I have a family I love and who loves me. I have a nice little house (that I've resigned myself to never being finished because it's been in a state of "renovation" since before I moved in). I dress as I please. I punch no clocks unless I set them for myself. I paint. I draw. I dabble in politics.

 

It's not a life I "built". It's the life that was created by the simply force of my living it.

 

We talk a lot about rebuilding but I don't know that I believe in that as an action or a thing that we purposefully plan and do. We create though for sure with every action and word and it's when we are not paying attention that we find we're living someplace that maybe we don't want to - if that makes sense.

 

I read posts here and I remember so many of the feelings and worries and I just want to reply "it's okay. you are going to be okay. really. it just feels overwhelming right now. take breath. take a nap. sit in the sunshine for a while and don't think so hard. it's going to be fine." But I don't because that's not what most need to hear. They need to scream and cry and vent and hear that someone knows this and gets it. Knowing that they will be okay is for another day. For someday.

 

People are creating lives right now as I am typing this and don't even know that. Just like I didn't know it.

 

Everything from the moment you enter this existence is all about one day being in a completely different place. It's all about the rebuild.

 

Well, I started one place and ended somewhere completely different - how very me of me.

[66etype]

After Michael died the number one statement I hated was "you will never be the same"... Why won't I be the same Tracy?? What are you talking about. I tried so hard to hold onto the one thing I had control of...me. Tomorrow is 3 years for me.. I have now learned I am not the same. Empathy is much more an emotion I have now than ever. It's taken me a while to understand that the underlying Tracy is still here... I have changed in some very subtle and signifiant ways. So now I have embraced the changes..I want to change some things about me pre Michael.. I'm all in. Let's be different. With that I have my check list. I have been checking off the changes... What do you do??? I will embrace my new thought process and be the best Tracy I have ever been. Michael is proud of me. I know while he was here on earth he knew I could achieve these things.. now he get's to watch me be my best. It wouldn't have happened without the terrible jolt of his death. xoxo Love you all.  Tracy

[BrokenHeart2]

Thank you Anniesgirl, Tracy and Marsha. You have given me so much to think about on this Easter weekend. 

It's so odd that I have been one to be resistant to change and now it's so thrust upon me I feel there is no choice but to figure it out. Life is so unpredictable isn't it?

 

Hugs

[Mizpah]

"I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be." - Joan Didion

 

So much of the past of my life feels inaccessible to me, and it's like a story instead of something I've lived, though I know I have.  Where does time go when it's over and in the past?  Away, somewhere, I don't know. 

 

I don't know if what I'm writing here is what the question is meant to elicit, but I feel the need to write it, and didn't even realize I did - there's something about telling and retelling our stories that helps me.

 

So I stopped living for a long time.  Barely spoke or ate for a month (or three, or more - my memory of the first few months is not so good).  I had to move at five months.  The first year I spent in near total isolation.  I went to work.  I went to synagogue.  I studied Hebrew (his native language).  Everything I did revolved around his identity, thinking about him, living grief.  I ran and worked out a lot to remain sane, I focused on simple things like sunlight and cleaning and laundry.  I binge-watched innocent shows like Friday Night Lights and Gilmore Girls.  I read grief books.  At the year mark, I mourned my grief - Jews stop saying kaddish (the mourner's prayer) daily at about the year mark.  I felt kicked out of my grief.  I could now attend parties and gatherings, listen to music.  I wanted to stay in grief, stay close to him. 

 

At about 14 months, I met a nice man who was interested in me, was successful, intelligent, kind, handsome.  I had no interest in him but it seemed like a good idea to get a first out of the way and force myself to engage in the romantic sphere.  So we went out for a few months.  Because I was forcing myself to do this for practice, I often felt repulsed by the situation, and yet I knew it was a healthy option for me.  (It had an expiration date, as he was being re-deployed, and I think this is also why I decided on him.)  At our last dinner out, he was saying sentimental things to me and I told him, "I can't let myself feel anything - if I felt anything, I'd feel everything."  He thought I meant I'd feel things about him, but I meant that all the grief would come rushing in and take over my entire existence. 

 

My awesome family knew I wanted to go to Israel, to make a pilgrimage to where he was born.  They all together got me a ticket, and I planned my trip.  Before I went, my mom told me that the man renovating her apartment had just lost his pregnant fiancee in a terrible car accident.  I'd taken to reaching out when I heard about things like this, as I'm sure many of us have.  So when I was visiting my family, I left him a note.  We were in touch from then on, for months.  Right before my trip to Israel, we met up.  I'd been starting to feel life coursing back in me (it was spring, it was almost two years, etc.), but I was taken aback - I liked him, I was attracted to him.  I'd said many times in the recent past then that I hadn't been attracted to or interested in ANYONE in the nearly two years since he'd died, and I felt like I'd be alone forever, and didn't even mind - I learned that I was good at being alone, loved my solitude, and even though I was lonely and my life was empty of partnership and romantic love, I loved my life as much as someone post-loss could (I wandered the City, I had routines that were healthy and life-affirming - reading, synagogue, socializing, working out, eating healthy, good family relationships, strong friendships, I loved where I lived).  I was into this guy, and he acted into me. 

 

So I went to Israel and had a fling with one of DH's friends and I remembered that sex was a whole other dimension of life that could change everything inside a person.  I was in touch with the widower the whole time via text message and felt it was inevitable that we would come together when I returned.  And we did.  It was fun and passionate and we cared about each other and I was infatuated.  I'm not sure in retrospect if it was just lust or love with the friendship aspect or excitement that I could feel something again, or WHAT it was.  But it felt great.  He was much newer to grief and less into facing it, though, and he was not really emotionally available, he said, though he also said things that said otherwise ("given what we've been through, I'm not sure either of us will ever be whole again - maybe one day we will be one together," he told me he loved me after a couple weeks, declared he couldn't see past me, that though he hated the long distance (which he swore he wouldn't do) that I was worth it and we deserved this chance at "greatness," etc.).  I unexpectedly got pregnant.  We'd already been talking future anyway, and decided that I would move to be with him and we'd have the baby together.  That's when things got hard.  And so for me, rebuilding was "easy" at first - I took things as they came, and I knew myself.  I didn't mislead people when I couldn't feel, and once I could feel again, I loved completely again, though I loved and missed and love and miss DH and he'll always, I feel, be the most extraordinary man I've known and our love was something almost otherworldly, superior to any relationship I've ever witnessed. 

 

Widower wasn't ready.  Widower and I are extremely different.  I search for explanations and these are only two of the results of my brainstorming.  It's been a very hard and painful year.  We are still together, and things have improved, but I've often felt hated, disliked, unloved, neglected, emotionally abused.  His ideal relationship, I think, right now, would be for me to raise our child, take care of the house, cook, contribute lots of money, seek nothing from him - including a real connection.  It's impersonal.  His expectations are too much for a full-time attorney and new mother who is homesick and socially isolated and coming from a relationship that was extremely close (his fiancee was a very young, rural, uneducated part-time waitress with children - I'm the opposite (his age, urban, educated, professional, never thought I'd have children), and his nuclear family background is full of physical and emotional and verbal abuse, while my childhood was amazing - cultured, loving, communicative).  I believe he's struggled with depression his whole life and by struggled, I mean no struggle because he just avoids and denies things.  I used to think he's strong because of how hard his life has been and how relatively successful he's been as a person in light of that, but now I see him as scared to face things.  He thinks I'm needy, while I think I'm just wanting something healthy and happy.  He's silent or angry when I try to talk to him about things - his coping skills (anger management, stress management) and communication skills are zilch.  I am lonely.  I am torn between staying and leaving, and don't know which is the right thing to do - we have a family and things are very often good and sweet.  He's a good father and he's sweet to me when I accept him for who he is and am positive toward him. 

 

So rebuilding has been hard.  Not because of me, I feel, but because of my "choice" of partner.  His rebuilding has been very very difficult.  Our relationship is hard but improving.  Whenever I decide I should leave, I see so much good and how much hope there is.  I have a daughter who is so happy and sweet.  I have a job that is stable.  I live near family.  I think my difficulties right now lie in new motherhood, a difficult relationship, a move away from the city I love (and lived in for over a decade) and ALL of my friends.  I've had so many changes.  I may have to leave and rebuild all over again.  I don't want to lose my family.  I love that I have a family.  I love him and he loves me.  But I may have to rebuild.  I have started so many lives in my life so far.  I don't want to rebuild again.  I want that heady initial in love period to be right, to be sustainable.  I don't want to have been wrong about him.  I don't want him to have been wrong about me (he thought I was so great - he doesn't seem to think so anymore - my best self honestly hasn't been present much since this move - all my strength and capability and personality, it's all gone into hibernation as I've struggled with the move and the changes and the housework and the motherhood and the disappointment in his feelings for me).  I don't want him to have been wrong about me. 

 

I said to my mom the other day that I'm still in shock that someone as amazing as DH existed.  Still in shock that he died.  That he no longer exists.  That I left NYC and live in the country.  That I'm a mother.  So I'm really in the moment and the past feels a million miles away, and yet the shock is still completely present. 

 

This is so long.  It doesn't answer the question.  I should be doing work. 

[Needytoo]

Thank you for starting this thread and my apology for the long post.  I would say my rebuilding is on the slow side.

 

I was so screwed up the first year that I can?t say I did any rebuilding at all.  Finding out quickly that I basically that no one gave a dam for my sons and I was a hard pill to swallow. That anger I had for that consumed me. The anger consumed me so much I most likely was totally blind to the people that were there for me.

 

  My husband had some issues and I think it all started when his own father died.  I think his mother most likely felt very much like me.  Her doctor put her on ?medication? and maybe she totally lost reality.  Her older children turned to drugs, sex and rock and roll and my husband being the youngest was forgotten.  I didn?t want to turn out to be her.  I tried therapy thinking that was the correct road to go. Unfortunately the first therapist really did a number on me.  At the time I was seeing her I still didn?t have the cause of death of my husband.  My husband hid in the basement away from his family and he drank.  He was never abusive but often he wasn?t there for us.  A behavior I found out he started after the death of his father.  The kids and I focused a lot on that behavior we wanted answers for his behavior but the answers sure didn?t come from this therapist.  This therapist who supposedly the best in the area told me, it was good that my husband died.  I never returned and couldn?t tell anyone what she did to me. I turned to books on grieving and some helped but I still felt so lost.  Finding YWBB really helped.  I could go to work and fake it well, but driving there and back my anxiety was huge. I would come home and basically stare at the walls for hours.    I finally found the courage and attended Al anon meetings.  Wow that was an eye opener. Recognizing that I am an enabler is something I still struggle with every day.  I then found another therapist.  She still wasn?t exactly what I needed but she kept talking about finding a passion and taking care of myself.  I still had no idea what she was talking about, most likely because I was still struggling with being an enabler. I made sure to do something for myself every day, even if it was reading a book but still felt in the twilight zone. I wasn?t suicidal but I didn?t want to live either. 

 

A few days after the first sad anniversary I heard about a widow support group.  I remember sitting in my car and I was ready to leave when my car door opened and two elderly widows basically pulled me out of the door.  I then found out about another support group and it turned out to be one that really started me off to rebuilding.  I started to see my future and I sure didn?t want to turn into the crazy cat lady.  I joined a gym. Then I took some art lessons.  Just being around positive people that didn?t have a clue I was a widow was great.  My anxiety level was decreasing and my wall staring stopped as well.  I still really needed a friend.  I asked a lady at work if she wanted to do a mud run with me and she was up to it.  Slowly I opened up to her and finally I had a friend. 

 

Now I have to back up a bit.  The day my husband passed an old coworker came to the house, she helped me clean the house because I assumed family would be coming to the house.  I laugh at that now because no family member entered our house and two years later still no family member has come. 

 

Fourteen months after my husband?s passing her husband was killed at work.  I have been by her side  from the beginning.  We are each other?s best support.  Slowly we are rebuilding together.  Both of our grief stories are similar and dissimilar.  Both of us realize we need friends.  Our little pack of friends is slowly growing.  Each of us are fragile but we are ready to do this thing we call life. 

On Sunday three families that all have lost a love one are getting together to enjoy Easter together.  We are starting our new traditions.  This is the first time the kids have ever spent Easter with another family.  That is the way it is.  Our family unfortunately has never been there for us.  I can?t change that and I am not allowing myself to have hate over it.  I am focusing on my sons and our future.  We need to open our heart up to other people. 

 

I have a lot or rebuilding to do, I am so much more open to this now.  I had to go through the horrible grieving to get to this spot.  Find trust in people I still find is very hard and I think that is for the best.  I am not just allowing anyone in. 

 

 

[Grammy]

As always ATJ, your post is thought provoking and relative to what is going on in my life.  This constructing a "new me" has been a constant work in progress. Just a never ending project, with many phases of "new me's" being revised, thrown out, or reclaimed and saved for revisions at a later date. 

 

The current "new me" was shaken to the core for the past week.  Medical problems due to an injury required a revision of the "new me" 2 years ago.  Not much, I am living with my oldest son and raising my grand daughter who just turned 5, but it has been a rough road to recovering as much of "me" physically as possible and giving up things I have come to love like driving or meaningful employment.  But I have come to terms as much as I can with who I am now, right now, and having to use a walker or wheel chair, with the loving help of an energetic child, yelling "Come On Grammy!  We can do it!" And sometimes searching for the words that never seem to find their way in my speech or being able to make change from money. 

 

The past couple of weeks my son and I have been arguing about everything it seems.  I had become an imposition that needed to be taken to medical appointments, rides to go grocery shopping, didn't clean up the house after a party he had, the list goes on.  I decided that since Zoey was to leave Wednesday afternoon for a visit to her Mothers, I would run away and relax as well.  I had a well thought out plan, friend picking me up, weekend on the lake and bbq's.  Just what I needed. 

 

Then came the call.  My sister in law lost her husband and the Celebration of Life was on Wednesday evening at their home.  The home where my husbands service was held, only 8 years and 2 months later.  Now I have visited a few times over the years, but it is just hard to be there even though it is a few miles away.  So I dug through my closet and my soul to find a version of me that could find the strength to go.  The tears flowed freely during the service with my grand daughter wrapped in my arms on my lap like a shield.  I was suddenly back to raw intense hurt of the first years, but feeling so sorry for my sister in law.  Another widow on this long journey with us.

 

My life has been torn down and re-started keeping what works and throwing out what doesn't only to pick up something discarded when it is needed again.  Who knows what the final version of me will finally become?  Maybe it is because I have always been so independent and stubborn that I can seem to settle into one new life?  Maybe it is the more recent brain injury?  I am spending some time thinking about what comes next again. 

 

((((Hugs)))) and Love to all

 

 

 

 

[Bluebird]

ATJ,

 

Thank you for this amazing and thought provoking post on rebuilding.

 

I wish rebuilding and reclaiming "self" were as easy as a house renovation. Tear it down, redesign it, build the new self and presto! For me, the process was very different.

 

The first step  in my rebuilding started well before my DH died. I was participating in a family therapy session with him in the second of his inpatient alcohol rehab programs. As part of a workshop exercise, each of the patients were asked to place their family and friends around the room in a circle using audience members as substitutes for the real people. My husband placed his parents and sibling across the other side of the room. He placed our son on his right, but a little away from him to protect him. And he placed me directly behind him, because I have his back. When asked why he placed everyone the way he did, he shared his thoughts. But when I was asked for my reaction I began crying. When the therapist asked why I was crying I said it was because I was not placed in the right place. I realized that instead of being beside him, or even having his back, I was taking complete responsibility for everything he did. I was him. I was so totally enmeshed in saving him from himself, I had become a pseudo DH. This realization brought me tremendous awareness about myself, and my lack of distinct identity - and it shook me to the core. I began to explore, in my thoughts and actions, stepping back from being DH and understanding me. What do I want, what do I like, what do I prefer?

 

Another element of my rebuilding was the development of my spiritual self. When I understood that I had become enmeshed with my DH's life beyond normal relationship boundaries, I found myself walking into the rooms of Alanon. I was taught there how to focus on my personal development, not on the lives of others. The process of self discovery led me to a deeply held belief in a power greater than myself. My belief is not in a traditional definition of God, but rather in a belief in Good. It is this belief that has helped me weather the storms of grief, has helped me wake up each morning with the confidence of a new day and to trust in the way of the universe. It has not protected me or my friends from bad things happening to them, but it has given me a way to get beyond suffering, to coping to moving forward optimistically, at least so far. I'm not in the zen zone by any stretch of the imagination...I still feel anger at injustice and despair with difficulties, but my belief in a higher power is a lifeline.

 

When my DH died, another great milestone was reached about 5-6 months later. One day I was walking with a friend and I was struck by the sudden realization that it was possible I could love another again. I was thinking a lot at that time about my future. Could I be satisfied as a professional woman who is a mother and grandmother? I thought so for a while. But one day, I realized I wanted love in my life again. I had no clue how that would happen, and I certainly felt that if it was to happen it would be a miracle since I was not going to hunt for it, but I accepted this about myself within the first year of DH's loss.

 

I am certain I am not done rebuilding. I doubt I ever will be. For me, the steps above were less about "doing" and more about insights that came to me and then "allowing". I'm generally a person who likes to keep everything in order and be master of my destiny, but in the cases where massive transformation have occurred, I have instead Let Go and Let Good.

 

Sorry for my long lost ATJ....your post and others responses really unlocked something for me. Thank you!

 

Bluebird

[WifeLess]

ATJ,

 

I thank you and all who posted here for your thoughtful contributions. There is not much I could add to this discussion, except to say that after my wife's death I too recognized the need to rebuild. I think the most succinct wording I could come up with to describe what was lost, as well as some of the difficulties associated with rebuilding, appears in "Unique and Devastating Loss". Recently, Bluebird invited me to repost that document on the website of a small nonprofit that she is associated with, which was started by a widow and provides services to widows and widowers. The following is an excerpt from my preface to it on that site:

 

"We widows and widowers know all too well how destructive the death of our spouse is to virtually every aspect of our life. As excruciatingly painful as it is to lose that one unique person in the world we were closest to, our devastating loss actually extends well beyond that, and often includes even our own selves . . . "

 

For those who may wish to read more that post, here is a link to it:

 

http://www.onefitwidow.com/unique-and-devastating-loss/

 

--- WifeLess

[ATJ]

Thank you, everyone, for telling Your story. I truly appreciate it, because it takes courage to talk about the ups and downs, the bumps in the road, with honesty and integrity, especially at a later stage when most think that we are 'so together' and have all the answers now. We have the dubious honor of being considered 'veterans' at this endeavor. Perhaps it is somewhat unsettling for those newer to this journey to hear about the messy 'sausage making process' of rebuilding, and therefore I was hesitant to start this thread. However, in my personal life I ALWAYS wanted to know the full truth in any situation, no matter how difficult it was to digest.

 

When reading all of these accounts, it becomes clear that there are many common and intertwined threads that connect us, like in a large tapestry, but it also shows vast differences in how our widowed path has evolved and wrought personal changes in us.

 

What we all have commonly experienced is: Pain, fear, frustration, fatigue, uncertainty and hard work in an effort to survive and change our lives for the better. But there are equally disparate elements that make our stories unique, much like a person's fingerprints form a distinctive identifier. There are different backgrounds, as well as prior and current life circumstances, diverse residual and/or new support levels, family units of all types, or none, distinctive personality characteristics with inherent or learned coping mechanisms, and variant belief systems.

 

Grief was the catalyst that created tributaries which brought us together in the mighty and turbulent river of pain and sorrow. For a while we took this wild ride together, clinging tightly to each other for sheer survival, until the river finally reached its estuary that led us back out into the ocean of life.  Just as we came from different origins, our individual compass now points us again into different directions, as life either beckons or forcefully pulls us along. But even after we have been released back into the vast ocean of life, we keep sending periodic signal flares from the distance to let each other know that we are still together in spirit, still remembering our common journey, and it brings comfort.

 

How we coped along the way varied widely in method and speed:

 

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions,

perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer.

Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away."

 

~~ Henry David Thoreau

 

As we tried to build new lives again, we all experienced different challenges, but none of us totally escaped from the arduous reshaping process.

 

"Man cannot remake himself without suffering,

for he is both the marble and the sculptor."

 

~~ Alexis Carrel

 

We also have our own understanding of what new happiness and contentment entail, and life takes us through its winding, labyrinthine paths to get there.

 

"Happiness, that grand mistress of the ceremonies in the dance of life,

impels us through all its mazes and meanderings,

but leads none of us by the same route."

 

~~ Charles Caleb Colton

 

 

 

 

May we all find restoration, peace and contentment!.

 

 

Light and Blessings to all!

 

ATJ  

   

             

[klim]

okay I'm going to join in here and reflect.

 

I view my journey as not so much rebuilding as keeping the structure that was in place from falling.

 

In the beginning there was shock. My husband passed suddenly due to a heart attack and he was fit and had  healthy habits so totally unexpected. But I took command right away. My boys( age 15 and 17 at the time) needed looked after. They needed to know we were going to be alright and I was going to be the one to show them that.That was my prime concern.

 

My husband had lived life fully, always 100% involved in everything he did. He would not have had any regrets. He died doing what he loved doing. We were happy, he loved his kids and me. My boys were old enough that their dad had left his stamp on them and  all I had to do was make sure that this blow did not bring us down.

 

I think I have succeeded. I have done it  mostly on my own and again I don't know why that is important but to me it is.. In the beginning my mom offered emotional support but she was an 80 yr old in failing health so often I was worrying about her instead while she was worrying about me. I work full time and manage 3 rental properties. All of this is because it has allowed us to continue on as before. I have searched out a new set of friends because as a couple we were so close we didn't need outside friends. I keep in touch with his brothers and sisters( he had 9 of them) because they're cool people and he loved them and they love me.

I've kept the idea that it's important to live life fully...putting words into practice by planning adventures and sharing them with my sons or not( they're teenager and doing things with mom is not always cool)

So I have kept the structure not rebuilt it...brought in a few new friends to to prop up the main beam (me) but have not  really changed the  way we live. 

 

[Wheelerswife]

Rebuilding...what a topic.  I've pondered this since the thread started.  I knew for 18+ years that, barring anything unforeseen, my first husband would die before me and I would have to figure out what came next.  Although I'd thought about this second life of sorts over the years, I didn't know what it would look like and I never could have known, really.  But I started a new life after my Barry died.  I never expected to leave my career and move from New England to the middle of Kansas, but that is where life took me...or where I took life.  I'm not sure which it was...but there I went. 

 

My new life had some solid parts and some wobbly parts.  The most solid aspect was the man who became my second husband.  The wobbly parts were the challenges I faced with trying to construct a new direction for my career.  I had no idea what I wanted to become in terms of growing my intellect and finding a new career.  Fortunately, the stable part of my life, my new husband John, supported me and gave me space to relax a bit, reflect on my life, start to explore possibilities, travel, do some volunteer work and go back to school.  Life was good.  I was working toward a second bachelor's degree, having fun, learning, considering grad school.  The wobbly parts were starting to stabilize.  I was actually comfortable being a little bit wobbly.

 

Then, the stable part of my life was pulled out from underneath me.  John died suddenly.  Other things started collapsing around me as well.  I started having anxiety and panic attacks.  I developed health problems, had surgery and was diagnosed with cancer.  Here I was, without John or family nearby, feeling as wobbly as I had ever felt in my life.  I had to find something to hold onto...to give me stability.

 

What became my stability?  School, or university - as some of our friends from the UK prefer to call it.  That wobbly part of my life that had been growing a bit more solid over time...it became the greatest stabilizing force in my life.  I was sitting in the classroom 11 days after my second husband died.  I had one class each day, a place to be accountable.  I missed just one week when I had major surgery.  Deadlines and assignments became objects of my focus that forced me to think and produce something constructive, even in the midst of the chaos that my life and emotions had become.  I took a summer to travel and see friends and family and I returned to the classroom again the next semester and finished that bachelor's degree.  I applied to grad school, knowing I wasn't ready for the work world, and I started a program that is finally giving me some vision of a new career.

 

My wobbly has become my stability.  My dog has also added some stability.  I'm less anxious, I'm more focused, but I'm still wobbly.  My heart craves connection.  I don't think it is yet ready, but it has me more forward focused.  School will keep me where I am for now, but in a year and a half, there will be another transition.  I can't stay in school forever.  For now, school keeps me in the present.  Some days, my heart is in the past as I lament that I did not have John to grow old with me.  But at 14 1/2 months out from the loss of my beloved polarbear, I am starting to think about another future, a third life.  Where will it take me?  I don't know.  I don't think I can know yet.  I just have to hope that I will some day find happiness and fulfillment again.

 

Maureen

 

 

[Neverthesame]

Hmmm, I guess I never really thought about whether it was easy or hard?.it just was. After helping my wife battle cancer for 4.5 years I was left with three kids to finish raising. For 6 years I did what I had to do to keep the household running. At times I was lonely and if someone had come along I would have made an effort to start a relationship, but I just didn?t have the time or energy to actively seek someone out.

 

When my youngest was 17 I decided I would put some effort into preparing for MY future. I didn?t like the idea of online dating but decided I?d give it a shot. It was kind of fun looking at profiles and sending a few smiles and emails. The amazing thing is that I found a wonderful woman on the very first date that I went on. She too was a cancer widow and had been a care giver, so we had a lot in common there. We also shared common interest and values. Eleven months after our first date we were married and a 1.5 years later I couldn?t be happier.

 

As I worked on rebuilding I just did what worked for me. I?m sure that it was much easier than some have to face and harder than others. One thing that I do know now (at 8 years out) is that, even though I?m happy and content, I still remember every single day that I am widowed and my life is forever changed.

 

Bill

 

[Neverthesame]

I?ve been thinking about this thread and I?d like to add to the previous reply that I wrote. I?m not sure that I really rebuilt as much as I just continued to live and grow. When my wife died I could have stopped living and just gone through the motions of life (and I did for a while). However, looking back over last few years I can see so much change and growth in my life.

 

Deciding to remarry was not only good for me; it was good for so many lives that are woven in with mine. My new wife has been a huge help to my kids as they move into the young adult stage of their life. She doesn?t try to take the place of their mother, she just tries to help them as a friend and they have responded well to that approach. They?ll often call her with issues that they need help with before they call me. She has also been a big help to me as I watch out for my aging parents and they have grown to love her as they did my DW.

 

As far as her family goes, I was accepted immediately by her parent and I would do anything that I can to help them. I also became an instant grandfather. My new wife has a grandson that was born three weeks after her husband died. She has a second that was born three months after we started dating. They are two boys that I continue to grow to love more as time passes. Even though they?ll see pictures and hear about their biological grandfather, I have the responsibility of being the grandfather they?ll have contact with. Saturday the older grandson has a father/son outing with his preschool. His father has to work so I?ve been asked to fill in and it?s something that we?re both looking forward to. In the Fall my wife and I are taking a cruise with her daughter and son-in-law to celebrate their 10th anniversary.

 

My wife and I are both widowed, but our lives continue to touch so many other lives and I hope it?s in a positive way. I guess I?m just saying that I didn?t have to rebuild; I just had to let my life move forward. As I look back, it has moved forward in wonderful ways. It has moved forward in ways that I would have wanted my wife?s life to move forward if it had been me that died.

 

Let me finish by saying that I don?t think for a moment that a widow/er has to remarry to move forward in positive ways. I just wanted to express the opinion that, for our own benefit, we should try to continue to live our lives to the fullest?..as well as for the benefit of those we touch. It's not easy and it's not something that happens overnight, but it's worth the effort.

 

Bill

 

[Sugarbell]

7 1/2 years.....Best way to sum it up a journey...

 

In a nutshell....spent first 4 years playing victim. Became an RX drug addict because well I couldn't cope with death, suicide, raising 3 kids. Oh I forged on...took care of things...but didn't really live. Some is a blur...Went through diversions with men (meaning dating 3 months). Had a 6 month marriage..Overdoses twice...flatlined once.

 

Then I hit my rock bottom...at 4 years I was lower than I was when I first was widowed.

 

Spiritual awakening-Saved and Changed my life...That was 3 years ago. Been clean ever since.

 

Live everyday like it's my last. Travel, throw myself into my kids, redid my house, reconnected with old friends....studies religions, spirituality, meditation...trying to figure out my spiritual experience. Threw myself into career.

I guess the past 3 years has been rebuilding at lightening speed. To make up for 4 years of just insanity.

 

I feel whole again. I feel happy. I am dating a great guy...but I felt complete and whole before I met him. (Which I refused to date for several years until I got to that point). Never wanted to be in a relationship again starting out broken.

 

He knows my whole story..he gets it.

 

So it's been a long process for me-But now it's so worth it.

[Captains wife]

Rebuilding...a great word for it and a great, thought provoking post.

 

I am almost 3 years out after losing my husband suddenly in an accident and being left to take care of a 9 month old.

 

I feel as though I spent the first year "surviving" - just getting through the day, nurturing myself and my son, reorganizing my life to make it work as a single parent. Just trying to get the day to day stuff done, with a few breaks in between. I ate and drank a fair amount and put on a brave face but was pretty miserable.

 

Then I feel as though I started to get into rebuilding mode - realizing I didnt want this experience as a widow to totally define me and that I wanted to be happy for the years I have left with my life. I was tired of being so down so wanted to work on rebuilding my attitude and my life.

 

So year 2-3, I decided to focus on what makes me happy and how I could rebuild my life as a single mother. I felt so isolated alone in my small town (I had always lived in the city, my husband and I moved out to burbs) so I joined a couple of local groups, volunteered, worked hard to build new friendships - through this board but also through meetup.com etc and the clubs I joined. I wanted to feel better about myself so I went on a diet, cut my drinking and started regular exercise for the endorphins - and lost 4 dress sizes + spent money on my hair etc (which I neglected in year 1). I found a grief therapist as well so I could let out what was in my head (I am not good at grieving in front of my family and friends). I completed a number of projects on my house. I tried to re-engage more actively with my work, went to a few job interviews to see what opportunities were out there. I started dating, and am trying to open my heart up to the possibility of being really re-coupled (ummm but still working on this). I started being more confident about my parenting skills by reading books, taking my son on outings so we could bond (and get out of the house) and I have been learning to control my temper better.

 

Instead of living just day by day now, I am cautiously starting to look forward to what I want to do and I continue to work on what makes me and my son happy and trying to be happy overall. I am not finding this rebuilding process easy admittedly and I have alot of ups and downs (including my mood) but I am working on it !  I have been frustrated as I think I have been doing the "right" things to rebuild but I cant seem to get past the grief of what happened - but as I understand, this is going to be a long process (indeed full of ups and downs).

[linda5]

Rebuilding ... such a no nonsense word, but yet holds mountains of possibilities!  I guess I could say I've started the "rebuilding" process. 

 

The first year after his death, I just wanted to roll over and die too.  He had the audacity to die suddenly in front of me and our three children, aged 20, 24, and the oldest just turned 30 the day before.  My girls tell me the first year I just walked the halls of the house, didn't sleep, eat, or talk.  Didn't watch t.v., just walked up and down the hall.

 

After year one I had to make the decision that I couldn't change what happened, couldn't fix it, and he was not coming back.  So I had to change!  I wanted to be an example to our daughters so I started to fight to find myself.  Then life decides to send me a another curve ball, my youngest graduated from college, got married, and moved to Virginia.  So, I learn to let another precious cargo of mine go and give her the confidence that we all will be fine.  I'll come visit and she'll come back to visit.  I was doing pretty good with that when my oldest tells me that her husband lost his job but got another at ASU (in Phoenix) and they are moving with my only grandbaby.  Then, my middle daughter moves out of our house and buys a house with her fianc? (which is fairly close to me).  So, in 4 years time, I've gone to being a family of 5 to now living alone.  But, and here is the amazing part ... I'm coping with it!  I've had some serious conversations with God about why did I have to learn to be alone. 

 

Now I'm ready to really start my rebuilding ... as I don't like being alone and I want a companion.  I'm just about ready to join a dating website (well, 98% there)!  But I can finally say I joined the living again!

 

[messageinabottle]

I think for me personally this rebuilding thing has been sooooo difficult.  I often wonder why?  I went through extreme grief when I lost him pregnant and with a 5 1/2 month old baby.  Then it hit me.  It is hard because I do not , have not had any time to focus on myself.  It has been survival raising my boys.  I have no support system near me and currently my Mom my only true support system is battling cancer.  So here I am. 

I get very frustrated as it is not that I don't want to "leap".  It is I truly can't leap.  I have to always look at my limited time and see what exactly I can do for myself.  I run after the kids , the house and everything else.  Me (or any time for me) comes absolute last.  It is easy for others to say you HAVE to do something for yourself.  But honestly even time for friends or others isn't possible or very limited.

So I will put this out in very honest fashion.  I feel like my life is stagnant and on hold.  Because my life is about everyone else and not me.  Rebuilding has been soooo frustrating inside for me and lead to some depressive feelings.  Why?  Because inside I have so much I want to do but realistically I can't.  Yes I do things with the kids as a family which is what this stage is about of course.  But sometimes I am screaming inside for a small bit for me.  It is very very hard to admit this but I feel like rebuilding means very small, small bits for me until I have time.  And that line right there is what makes it so very very hard. 

I have done things for me.  Running.  Took up running and I do love the feeling it gives me and the time to just "be" .  Me , my favorite music and the run.  I try to set goals with other things but truly there is no time.  I am raising 2 boys completely totally alone.  There is no one to take them for the weekend...I have to beg a friend or pay a sitter for a few hours and night out. 

So hard is the word I would use.  In my head defining rebuilding means some things I long for.  But realistically it means most of those remain on hold.  I am not resentful at all ...my boys are my greatest and most amazing joys.  But at times I will  have a "pity party" for myself.  And I do try to fit in anything that is for "me". 

There you go I just bared the soul a bit.

[Guest tableforone]

I keep coming back to this thread and trying to formulate an answer. Rebuilding for me was hard. The hardest thing I ever had to do in my at that point 44 years. And I was no stranger to life's difficulties.

 

The first year I attempted to carry on with my usual determined spirit. I was going to make my husband proud of how I managed. I sold my house, got a new job, rewrote my address book, clean slate. The second year I couldn't make sense of why I didn't feel better. I had done everything correctly...I had traveled, managed all the post death business, sold a home, secured a job, moved, managed my dying mother's affairs and then her death. The third year, I bought an old house and remodeled it. And I still felt like shit and lonely. I have no children and my parents had died. So I didn't just feel alone, I was alone and it scared me. Occasionally I would see glimpses of the person I had been...fun, funny. Finally in the third year I started to branch out socially and made some new friends and reconnected with old friends. Then I began dating, a lot. Who knew there were so many men interested in dating a middle aged woman in Maine? Oh, and I had the love of three great dogs.

 

So now I am at 7 and a half years. I am remarried. I have many friends. I have moved to the place I have wanted to live for years.  I have rebuilt. But I am not the same. I cannot un-know what my devastating loss did to me. But I attempt to live every day to its fullest. Some days I succeed more than others. I don't dwell on his death or the aftermath yet it is there in my mind. I rarely speak of it in the real world. Only here in my safe place. My wedding anniversary is next week. That bothers me.

 

Hard. Definitely hard. But as hard as it was, it is does get infinitely easier over time. Time really does smooth the rough edges.

[Guest TooSoon]

I, too, have read this thread with rapt interest.  While I am in no way finished with my process of rebuilding, I think about what rebuilding means a lot (and talk about it incessantly to all widows and widowers who will listen - thank you!). 

 

For about 8 months after Scott died, I did what tfo did: I declared that I'd run the marathon of brain cancer and I was going to keep running through the grief.  I went back to work full time after a week, we did all of our holiday traditions, I took her to the shore and to Paris in the summer, we went to the pool with all of the other suburbanites.  I was just in a delusional fog.  I did myself a huge disservice in that I think the fall was even more traumatizing than his death in some ways.  At 8 months I crashed.  I realized this was it and there was no amount of stiff upper lipping it or mind over mattering it; there was only facing it.  And so I did.  And it was excruciating.  I am a tenured professor and I almost lost my job.  It is hard for a tenured professor to get anywhere close to losing their job.  My child was having all manner of problems; I threw my energy into that and fortunately, some maternal gene deep down somewhere inside me kicked in and it was my raison d'etre for about 4 months.  Then Christmas came and we went to Hawaii to visit friends for a week.  It was good but I crashed again. 

 

But then things started to turn around.  I made some really good friends here and we started meeting up once a month for an overnight someplace.  I started going to see shows in Philadelphia both by myself and with others and felt so much comfort in the anonymity of the crowd.  I began to realize that a friendship I made on the board might be developing into something more than a friendship.  My year mark passed.  I was back at work full time.  It wasn't perfect but I was doing it.  Summer came.  We went to Rome and I got my research project back on track and maybe for the first time I knew we were going to be ok.  The essential pieces of our lives were back in place, still imperfect but still there.

 

This school year has been good.  I've made no major changes other than to rectify my child's schooling situation.  My address book is completely different and I've blanketed us with the few brave souls who weathered the post-Scott storm with us and let go of the rest, having recently reached out to those who felt abandoned or offended by me and taken responsibility for some of my weaker moments in the depths of grief.  I not only accept that things are different now, I embrace it. 

 

Yesterday I had a totally uneventful day.  Nothing happened.  It was just a normal day and I felt content.  Just plain old, hum-dee-dum, living life contentment.  I'm sure I've had days like that before yesterday but I noticed it.  There is a lot that is still wrong (my disgusting house; unknowns about the future) but those things and certainly other challenges would have been there brain cancer or no brain cancer.  The ability to acknowledge that, as I said in another post, some things suck simply because they suck and not because I am a widow was a big light bulb moment in my rebuilding.  Also, even though I am in a relationship, we don't see each other another much so another big moment for me was the realization that I can do this on my own.  I am doing this on my own and am doing it pretty well.  All of these things have helped me realize that while the process of rebuilding is ongoing and most likely never ending, so is the process of living - or at least ideally it is - widowed or not. 

 

Sorry for the length - over caffeinated today!  TGIF!

 

 

[ATJ]

 

 

O come, All Ye Rebuilders, hesitant or weary,

 

O come Ye, O come Ye, and share Your Story!

 

 

THIS Rebuilder was highly reluctant to start this thread because she is still seeking, still stumbling, still doubtful at times. But to speak the truth takes courage, especially since it is not always popular, and the majority wants to hear a "And they lived happily ever after..." story.

 

As I said in my follow-up post, somewhere in the middle, our stories are as unique as our fingerprints. We all have come from different directions, and will turn again into different directions. But none of our stories holds any more or less value than the other. They all stand on their own merit!

 

 

"If we are not ashamed to think it,

We should not be ashamed to say it."

 

― Marcus Tullius Cicero

 

 

"Don't bend; don't water it down; don't try to make it logical!

Don't edit your own soul according to the fashion!"

 

~~ Franz Kafka

 

 

So, are there any more brave souls out there willing to share??

 

ATJ 

 

 

[Lisa]

I may be strange.  I've never thought of myself as rebuilding. Plenty of changes and adjustments. but I'm more of a sailor than a builder

[anniegirl]

the majority wants to hear a ?And they lived happily ever after...? story

 

In the beginning and at the most basic level, which is about all that one can manage in the beginning when you start thinking ahead, yes - probably.

 

But I doubt that anyone here, in any forum, has that kind of fairy tale innocence or ability to suspend belief after being widowed. I mean, you can't unknow, unfeel what's happened.

 

When I - as a newbie - I would go searching the stories of those years and more out - I wanted to know that they knew happiness again. In didn't matter to me what form it took. I needed to know that it wasn't impossible.

 

What scared me was not that there were bad days or that loss still hurt sometimes. What alarmed me were those who never talked about anything else. Who lived in their grief as though it was new or nearly so. Seemingly all the time. Because they never shared anything else.

 

I think that's why threads like this are important.

 

It shows that there is no single journey. No right or wrong way. That life is still life with ups and downs and plateaus - just like before. But that people move forward. Maybe not in straight lines and maybe not they way they'd hoped but they go on and there are good things, times and opportunities.