MarkCarol

Jan, I personally don't believe we ever "get over it." I think we just somehow learn to cope with the pain of loss. Everyone is different. It sounds like you as well as many in this group, including myself, had the deepest bond imaginable with our spouses. That's really rare in today's world. Anyone who even suggests that we shouldn't be grieving after a few months has obviously not experienced that depth of Love themselves. To have found that one special person who made our lives whole. That one person that we wanted to be with every minute of the day. Our true soul mate who we could share our every thought. That special person who we know would have been there for us as much as we were there for them, no matter what. We can celebrate that we have that true everlasting love that goes way beyond "til death do us part." Those people who are critical of our grief cannot even comprehend the true meaning of Love. We know the true meaning and that's all that matters.

Hey Wendy, There just aren't any words. What I will do is pray that you will get the strength you need. You have a lot of friends in this group that you can lean on. Take care, Mark

Wendy, It's not confusing for me. We were on such a roller coaster for so long, that we stopped getting excited when Carol's lymphoma would be "quiet" for a little while (even the doctors avoided the term remission in Carol's case, because it had a history of coming back quickly). We were protecting ourselves from a "false hope". Don't get me wrong, we tried to remain optimistic and positive, but we also exercised some caution and tried to remain hopeful, but realistic. As far as focusing your attention on your Mom, I agree with Jeanne. Sometimes we need a diversion just to make it through each day. Does that mean we're only postponing our emotions to a later time? Maybe and maybe not. I can tell you that this morning, I don't know what happened to me, but I experienced a lot of overwhelming emotion that I haven't had for several weeks. I tried to take a dose of my own medicine and tried to think of some memorable times we had. However, those images and thoughts of Carol's last few minutes just kept coming back. I was telecommuting today and thankfully my work got so overwhelming that it provided the diversion I needed. I just don't think that is a bad thing. Hang in there.

Wendy, I will absolutely pray for you and your Mom for the best news possible and to provide you the strength to manage everything that is going on in your life. Be sure to let us know how things went when you have a chance. --Mark

Wendy, Thanks for correcting the link. Not sure what I did. Anyway, I'm doing okay, considering. It will be 9 weeks tomorrow (Wed). Some of our friends called me on the way home from work tonight and asked me to go to dinner, so I did. It's nice to get out but I feel so empty and alone without Carol by my side. I made the best of it. I know she wants me to be loving and happy, so I'm doing the best I can at this point. Even though I have 3 Shih Tzu's at just over a year old to take care of, the silence and not having her here is so difficult. I'm determined to keep going so I'm trying to keep thinking about all the great times we had and avoid all the other thoughts that seem to pop in my head (that's like a full-time job).

Wendy, Nice song. I hadn't heard it before. One of the songs I played at my Wife's service was "I Believe" by Diamond Rio. There's a video on CMT in which the person survives, but if you listen closely to the lyrics, it has special meaning....."Now when you die, your life goes on, it doesn't end here when your gone, every Soul is filled with light, it never ends if I'm right"........ I just had to share. Here's the link. When you get to the page, select "I Believe". http://www.cmt.com/artists/az/diamond_rio/videos.jhtml

Jeanne, I can relate somewhat to what you are experiencing and would like to share something that helps me. It seems that these memories or thoughts just keep popping in my head and there's no way to stop them. I was holding my Wife as she was making her transition and the look that she had during that time confuses me. Her eyes seemed very wide open and a look of wonder. I just can't make out if she was seeing something I couldn't see or what but she seemed like it was peaceful. However, that moment and the hours before just keep popping in my head. When that happens, I try to make a conscious effort to replace that thought with another thought about a trip we took or some other memorable moment. And I mean I really think in detail of those special moments and the way I felt back then. I also try to turn the tables, so to say. In other words, if I had been the one who had passed and my Wife were still here, I would be so sad knowing that she was thinking more of what she should have done for me rather than thinking about all the happy moments we had. I truly believe my Wife is watching over me and she now understands that I did everything possible. From what you have said, your husband was very special and he now understands everything. If the tables were turned and it was you that passed, it would probably be difficult for you knowing your husband was in distress thinking that maybe he should have done more for you. I would imagine that your husband would be very happy knowing that you could replace your recent thoughts with one of the many wonderful times you had together. I hope this can bring you some comfort and relief. It's the only way I can make it through each day.

I lost my wonderful wife of 24 1/2 years on June 4 after she battled mantle cell lymphoma for over 16 yrs. She went through countless chemo's, radiation, and surgeries. At a minimum for the last 5 years, we were at the hospital every weekend for tests/treatments. The doctor's ran out of treatment options in April and the little bit of kidney function she had left was failing. Her body only tolerated dialysis for five weeks until her blood pressure got so low it was no longer possible. I was able to take care of her at home full time since March. Hospice was called to our home the Sunday before Memorial Day. She was totally dependent on me the last four weeks for everything as she was so weak she couldn't even raise her hands to scratch an itch on her face. Her son and I were with her when she made her transition on June 4. Through all that, she never complained. I just hope that if anything like that should happen to me that I have half the courage and strength that she demonstrated. She is such an inspiration and truly fought and enjoyed everyday. She was always thinking about others. The day the doctor was ordering hospice and as bad as she felt, she complimented the PA on her dress. She always looked for the good in everything. We did most things together, enjoyed talking with one another, went out dancing until the last few years when she was losing her balance, and went out to dinner with friends. Now I have a home of silence. I now have to figure out how to live with half of me missing. Our friends still get me out for dinner but I feel so empty without her by my side. We truly had one of those unusual marriages where we just couldn't get enough of each other. I couldn't wait to get home after work because she was always there waiting for me with a hug and kiss. It just doesn't get any better than that. This is one adjustment that I just can't stand. So everyone asks: "how are you doing?" When they find out I'm making an effort to go out to dinner with friends, I get the impression that they think oh, that is great and everything must be okay. Well, it isn't. I try not to be a drag and I don't want people feeling sorry for me, so I put on a face. That one hour of being out (which is difficult to begin with), is miniscule to the rest of my day when I feel so darn empty and lost. I feel like someone let all the steam out. I just feel numb. The silence is just so incredibly hard to deal with. I'm trying to build up enough courage to join one of those widow/widowers groups that go out to dinner once a month. Something with a lot of people who can at least relate to the loss and an opportunity to talk and listen. However, I'm finding that difficult and just can't do it yet. I truly believe that we will be together again in the future. Until then, I have to remind myself that she was strong and lived for each day. I need to do the same. Before she made her transition to Heaven, she told me that she wanted me to be loving and happy. Easier said than done but I will try somehow. --Mark