kath

I didn't talk about dying either, except when he was admitted to the hospital the week before he did. We wrote his living will. I would have much rather talked about living during that time. I would have liked to reminisce about the fun we had, the places we'd seen together, the laughs. But before then, I couldn't give in to thoughts of it, though I know he did. When he'd mention things, I'd be frantic, calling his doctor to set up another appointment, asking more questions. I know he saw what it did to me, so it didn't come up again. I had read, that those nearest death are free from fear about it. It isn't so much as an acceptance, but a grace they are given. I saw that in Bob. It is what gave me hope at the bitter end. I was with my grandma when she died of natural causes. I was there when she was suddenly alert and asked so clearly, "Am I dying?" I always told Grams the truth, mostly because no one else did. So I said, "Yes. You are. Are you afraid?" And she said, "No." That was it. The last time she spoke. And after being a widow for 48 years, I knew exactly what she was looking forward to. But again, there was no fear. Bob contracted hepatitis C from a blood transfusion long before I knew him. It was diagnosed two years before his death. We had 27 years together. For 25, he was healthy and we were happy. Being sick was hard on him. There was so much more he wanted to do. But, when he had the accident that gave him the tainted blood, he nearly died. He lifted up and away from his body and watched the paramedics work on him. He saw the light and he talked about it often. He said it was the most peaceful, calm he had ever felt. It was beautiful. But it wasn't his time and he knew he was "sent" back. If he hadn't been, I wouldn't have known him. He was not afraid of dying, ever. Because it had happened once, he knew what to expect, and fear was no part of it. I remind myself often that for him, it is good. He is safe, healthy and unafraid. His dying had nothing at all to do with me. It was all about him. And now, he is living in glorious splendor. It is us and our human hearts that don't want to let go of what we had. The pain keeps us down for a long time. Someday, we'll share that light with them. I try to think of him as going ahead and paving the way...you know, scoping out the best spots to show me on our next excellent adventure.

Thanks, Gail. I'm such a noodle, you know. I recognized a man from my church (that I didn't know was single) and debated if I should send him a message. When I finally got the courage to go for it, I found out I have to pay for message privileges, so all I could do was send a "smile" emoticon. I feel so 2nd grade! As I am trying to ease into this whole thing (it's been 30 years since I last "dated") I don't want to sign up for the whole program. I'll just keep looking and thinking until I can take the next step. Like I said, I am such a noodle! You really sound great, ya know! I couldn't be happier for you, Alex and your kids. I was talking to a friend at work and he asked if I was ready for this on-line thing. My response, "Well, the thought of it doesn't make me want to puke." He laughed, but that's where I'm at. How's that for growth?

Okay, it took me until 2am, but last night I created a profile on a Catholic dating site. I really just hope to find a male friend to talk with and laugh with. I don't have a lot of time to devote to a relationship, but it's a start. I honestly never thought I would get to this point, and the kids are not thrilled about it, but it makes me giddy thinking of the possibilities.

Congratulations to all of you, Gail! That is really wonderful. May the road rise up to meet you, the sun shine warmly on your face and the wind be always at your back... Kath

Brody, Did you write this? I take great comfort in poetry and this is beautiful. Thank you so much! Kath

Kay, You know I love and care about you, so please understand when I say, walk softly, my friend, and carry a big stick (just in case you need to whack him upside the head with it.) Of course he has been through a lot. You have, too and that is why you can relate so well. The problem was, he stopped relating to you, in a harsh and hurtful way. I want what is best for you. You do so much to help so many. I want someone to take care of you properly if that is what you want. It is remarkable that you are able to forgive his actions, that will free you to think clearly. He still needs to be accountable. As he experiences the vulnerability that grief brings, Kay, please be careful. I worry that your strength and your kindness will be taken advantage of. I sincerely pray that doesn't happen. It sounds like you've been doing a good job of taking care of Kay. Don't stop now. Prayers, Kath

Dear Cheryl, This is precisely the time you need to be most gentle with yourself. You are progressing, you are helping others, you are strong, but you are also deeply hurt and it takes a while. You were together for 20 years. Your relationship didn't become what it was in a few months. It took time to nurture and take hold. You will carry those years with you forever because they have become who you are and why you think and do things the way you do. I think it is one of the hardest things about healing, redefining who we are when we were perfectly happy being who and what we were. It was our past, our present and our future. I still feel like Bob's wife, even three years into this. I still talk about his likes and dislikes as if he were here. I still laugh at things I knew he would laugh at. I thought I had to change and I was a bit worried I would have to be who I was before him. Instead, what happened was I had to get comfortable being who I am and knowing that who I was as a spouse is very much a part of that equation, made it a bit easier. It's the waves that are the growing pains through this. I know it hardly seems like you can move most days and you sure don't feel any growth amidst the tears and the sorrow, but it is there. The sadness changes, too. It's still there, but it is something that you can call on instead of wearing it front and center. It becomes an understanding of someone else's loss. It's a revelation of sorts. It's like peeling back the petals of a rose and holding the pieces and they are even softer than when they were put together, yet they smell just as sweet. I've shared this a couple times, but my greatest hope came when I asked a friend if I would ever be funny again. I used to be and I feared this pain would take it away forever. She very thoughtfully stated that she had known a lot of crabby people that had lost a spouse, and they were still crabby. So, keep on hangin' on. You will be happy again. I am sure of that!

My first and last visit from Bob came the first of November, 5 months after he died. I had just crawled into bed and he was there. I saw only his smile, but I recognized him instantly. I said, "There you are. I've been waiting for you. Take care of the kids. They're having a hard time." And it was over. He didn't say anything, didn't need to. It was beautiful and comforting and I'll never forget it. My friend said the veil between the living and the dead is thinnest at that time of year. So, don't give up.

Melina, One thing that helped me was to have an escape plan. (Sometimes several.) That way if I wasn't enjoying being there or it became too odd (everything felt surreal and out of place) I could leave. Kath

Dear MZM, Many hugs to you as you go through this raw, wrenching pain. Two months is very early on this journey and I am glad you are able to reach out to this group. I still miss my spouse deeply but the pain of losing him is nothing compared to what it was in the beginning. It does get better, but sadly, there is no easy way around it. We have to walk through it. And it hurts like nothing else. I struggled with the lack of anyone knowing where I was or if I even arrived safely. I finally started emailing distant relatives to tell them where I was going and when I'd be back. I doubt they cared, but I had to have that connection and the reassurance that at least someone knew. I give you a lot of credit for getting out on your own. It takes courage. Can you take a favorite sweatshirt or jacket of your husbands next time? It somehow lends a bit of security and warmth surrounding yourself in their things. (And the smell is nice, too.) Let the tears come as they are necessary. (As if we could stop them anyway, eh?) And take good care. Love, Kath

Thank you all for your thoughtful replies. I appreciate all of you and wish the best for you today, too.

Now they've grown taller than me. And I sat in church Sunday remembering the funeral, how small they were, how unbelievable it was to be going through. Now they are tall and I still miss him. I needed him here yesterday to help take a broken limb off our huge maple tree. I wanted him here to share Mike's football game. I cried for him because it has been over three years and I am still lonely and miss our conversations. There is no one that cares about the daily happenings, no one to share the goofy things or the awkward moments or the little crisis that erupt in this life. I hear the stories of the people at work that are having trouble with their relationships and I want them to feel, just for a moment, what it's been like for me, for all of us here. I want them to know how valuable their time together is and I want them to treasure and nurture their marriages. And I want mine to be more than a memory. Not all days are like this. Many times I think of Bob and revel in the joy he brought to my life. And on days like today, I want that joy back, because it was so special, just like him.

Dear Jennalea, You are right. It is horrible and overwhelming and unfair and unreal and being angry is normal. It was for me. I applaud you for throwing in the towel so to speak and knowing you will deal with it in a bit. You will. It is okay to walk away and regain your strength and your courage. So many times I think it was the anger that motivated me to get the job done. One of my biggest resentments was the weedy yard. How could he let it get so bad, even though he was too sick to notice! I'd cut the grass and yell at him. Him - the love of my life; being the brunt of all my anger and frustration even when none of this was in his control. All we can do are baby steps, inch by inch, scream by scream, we get through. Let us know how you do. Kath

Dear Sharla, It was at a time like this I didn't know what to pray for. I wanted my husband with me, healthy and happy. But he was sick and the many, many treatments made him worse. To see him suffer was torture. I didn't want to pray for him to go, because I didn't believe I could live without him. So, I prayed that he would be safe...from pain, from fear, from heartache. Now, I believe that he is and so I shall pray for you and your family, that you are cared for and unafraid. Kath

Dear Lainey, It's a horrible way to spend your anniversary, ain't it? You are completely normal. In fact I just had this conversation with a dear friend on this site. I always think I am doing so well at letting go, but all I want to do is hang on tight. She said she woke up in the middle of the night and wrote down: "letting go is letting him in. Unclenching the strangle hold I had, and knowing that no matter what happens in my life, Joe is firmly lodged in my heart and head." Kudos to you for getting through a really tough day. You are definitely not alone. Love, Kath

Hi, Suzanne. You are so right about all those things being inconceivable. Doing nice things for yourself isn't going to make you feel better. At this stage, the only thing that could would be to have your precious Dan back. I'm sorry that can't happen. What people don't get are those special things are what our spouses did for us. Sure, we can do them, but the reason and the meaning is lost. I hope some day you can get to a point where you buy yourself flowers, not so much to help lift your mood, but because you love them and they match your mood. It takes a really, really long time before that can even be imagined. The lonliness is excrutiating. It doesn't change overnight and some days you just have to hang on for the ride. White knuckles and all. I hope,too that Bob is never just a memory. I don't see how that can happen. He is so much a part of me that he is my subconscious and my thought process and when I think of him, he is my heart. High school is a memory. But your spouse, is a part of you. He always will be. The smile comes from re-living the love you felt when you think of him. The joy does come because love has a way of infecting those moments. But they become you, truly, in a way that only you can define. I was thinking today, how it would have been so much easier if we had hated each other. But we didn't. We fit perfectly together and were the best with each other. I still carry the best of Bob with me every day. It certainly isn't how I planned it and it most definitely isn't how I want it to be. But I wouldn't have traded all those years for something less. Wishing you roses, Kath

I have to thank you, too, Marty for this one. It was Bob's third angelversary and added to the stress of "not wasting" a three day weekend was simply too much. I spent one whole day crying and 2 days remembering. I'm almost glad to be going back to work. This writer is so real. I love her suggestions for sending just the kids (and of course, slathering them in sunscreen first:)

You and your children are in my heart and prayers, Kim. Hold on and I hope you can feel the hugs from MN. Kath

Good job!!! I haven't even tried to fire up the weed eater. Bob was always struggling with it, so I figured it would be too much for me. Instead I got the roundup and sprayed all the edges. It killed everything and then nothing but a hardier variety of weeds grew in their place! I'd take the bad haircut look anyday compared to the thorny bushes I have now!

I agree with what's been said. If it doesn't make you feel better to be involved, pull out the "Widow card" and let them know that you are just not able to do it. Let them know this has been the year from hell for you and you are just trying to get by financially and emotionally. If they need to have a memorial to help them move through their grief, support that decision, but you do not have to be the MC. And Linda, please remember, that not everyone can understand, especially if they have not had the kind of loving relationship you shared with your husband. They weren't around when you were caring for him day to day or to understand the challenges you've had to face on your own. They may even feel this is a way to help you???? This is kind of where we become the teachers. They may not appreciate that you reject the idea, but hon, it is all about taking care of you right now. It's still new. A year is very early. If your support system is in place and your true friends have already reached out and are available to help you, continue to take care of yourself. I don't have anything similar to compare it to. I did not attend the memorial service at the hospital my husband was at for his last few days, simply because I had no attachment to the location or the doctors. They didn't do him any favors, ya know. The thought of going made me feel even more stressed out. I'm sorry for you and all of them, that they couldn't reach out immediately. To me then, it would have made sense to remember after a year in an effort to come together again in a show of support. But, it sounds like that wasn't the case.

That is beautiful. Thanks for sharing. I love the idea. Kath

Thank you, thank you, thank you. You make me cry. I've been looking back at all the things that I've had to face that I didn't think I could and I guess, in reality, this is just one more. I am hoping the extra couple weeks will get me used to the idea. (Until then, I'll keep praying the pain will just go away.) Marsha, I love what you said by "Joe wasn't there." I want to hold onto that. I tried to go someplace else and this doctor doesn't see patients anywhere else except the VA. I did zoom into the map and it is actually just around the corner from where Bob was. Same complex, different building even. It is good to have the support from the members here. I know you get it, and on a daily basis, deal with it. I can't tell you how many times your strength has "rubbed off." I have to decide if I want to impose on a co-worker. It might take the edge off if I didn't have to think and drive.

Dear Shelley, I know that when all the pain piles up on you it is hard to see a way out, but suicide is never the answer. You have been a survivor all your life. You didn't get this far by giving up. As Chai said so beautifully, you are loved here and I pray that you receive the help and support to get through this. Repeat these words over and over until you believe them (it may take months, but it works) "I am a worthwhile woman and I deserve to be loved." And you do, by your brother, your niece and by everyone you meet. Hugs to you, Kath

I had something happen yesterday that floored me. I NEVER go to the doctor. I don't see the point, unless I need an antibiotic or something. Well, I've had this little tiny bump in my hand and it hurts like crazy, so I went today. After one minute, my doctor starts writing a referral to a hand specialist. Nothing serious, but it may be attached to a tendon and he won't touch it. No big deal, it hurts, I want it gone so I go to schedule with the surgeon. The only one within 100 miles is at the hospital Bob died at. They wanted me there next Monday and it is within a week of the three year angelversary. I started crying right there in front of the scheduler. I certainly didn't see that one coming. And I have no good feelings about this hospital at all. So, I woke up today wondering if I suck it up or just live with the pain? I have a pretty good track record of living with stuff that just disappears on it's own eventually. Why does it have to be that hospital? After crying to my boss (who's words were "that's life") and sobbing all day in my office, I get a call saying the doctor cancelled all her apointments that day. At least the rescheduled date is a week behind the dreaded anniversary. I know others have had to face this. What worked for you? I don't want to be a basket case when I see her. And I know that there's no way to stop the tears when they come. I just feel the need to have some composure...to prepare myself.

Korina, You're doing exactly what Scott would have done...introduced Kailyn to hockey, toque and all! She is so cute. Where did she get those intense eyes??? Bob was a big hockey fan, too. We even took days off work to watch the high school hockey tournaments. (It's a big deal in Minnesota, too.) I sort of left all that behind me, except now my son is a huge fan of everything and I share the stories with him. It is of some comfort to share the parts of Bob that he would have enjoyed if he were here. I know Mike likes hearing about everything. I bet Kailyn will, too. Maybe she'll even play someday. I'll bet you'll see the clouds part with a big smile then! Do you see much of Scott's friends? I've tried reaching out to a few of the couples we knew and they are polite, but not really looking to reconnect, I guess. I hope yours are more involved. It's hard to lose those relationships, too.