marsha

Gold - all I can say, is wait for Fred's response. I'm waiting, too, because his posts are thoughtful, and from the heart. It's only 5 months for me, but I can see where you're coming from. But don't sell yourself short. You say you merged your identity with Bruce, but in any good marriage (and it sounds like yours was wonderful) - there is a melding, yes, but not just one's identify going into the other. You contributed to your marriage - you brought your ideas, your fears, your love, everything you had. And now all of that is in you. I'm sorry I have no dating advice - lord knows whenever I'll be ready, but please see that you are you - unique, with all the strengths that you got from loving someone to the fullest. Don't let others tell you what to think, or feel! Oh, I wish I could give better advice - Hugs, Marsha

Kathy - you did a wonderful thing! I had the best of intentions, starting placing on the bed in our second bedroom those clothes I wanted to donate. I got a good pile. And there they sit. I figure it's going to be a little time before I can actually bag them and donate to our local thrift store. I just can't seem to do it! It (that being grieving, letting possessions go, dealing with the memories attached) seems to go in fits and starts. But I don't beat myself up about it. When I'm ready, I'll do it. I just hope there isn't a guy out there pining for his leather jacket! Hugs, Marsha

You know, Kath, I think it's just the nature of people. They can be totally oblivious, and they can be overly intrusive. Reading your post, the neighbor who was checking on the "strange man" going in and out of your house is not necessarily bad, and I felt it showed her concern. The other neighbor who wanted to know about your Thanksgiving guest was out of line. When Joe died, and even before, it came back to me that rumors were floating around the beach that I was going to sell my business. Come to find out it was one of my competitors, but just the fact that there was gossip involved pissed me off. I have found that there is a thin line between caring and intruding from my neighbors. I'm a very private person, and like you, my grieving is done in my house, behind closed doors. My counselor suggested, too, that when people offer help, it's usually for themselves, not us so much. All I know is that my widow brain radar is torqued up to high! Peace, Marsha

Mary Linda - Kathy got it right - life is too short, indeed, to worry about what Tom's family have determined what you should do. I'm really glad you're posting your frustrations - don't want your head to actually explode! What's the saying, you can pick your friends, but not your family? I would say, why feel that you are obligated to them in any way? Because they're Tom's family? I read somewhere that death and grief rewrites address books. I'm finding that to be true on a daily basis - but that's not necessarily a bad thing. You were a good wife to Tom, you loved him - that's all that counts. Be good to yourself! Love, Marsha

Mike - the ceremony sounded wonderful, and so glad it went well. And to enjoy so your celebration with family was a gift. I know it's hard to be around people sometimes, so I'm glad it turned out that you could place your grief and hurt inside your heart, and be with family, and just enjoy. It's so true that the anticipation sometimes is worse than the event. I found that with Joe's ceremony as well. A whole bunch of us gathered together on the oceanfront; I didn't think I could say anything, but I did it. Read poems ("I'm free"), said the Jewish prayer for the dead (which actually is a celebration of life), people stepped forward to share stories, and I had some of Joe's ashes in a pint bottle of Jack Daniels (along with a shot) - I walked down to the ocean myself and put his ashes in - the wind was whipping at about 35 mph, the waves were wild - it was just his sort of day. That's what he wanted, and that's what he got. A friend later told me a single bird was hovering over me the entire time. I'm in tears right now, but I'm so glad I could do this for him. Oh, you've brought back memories! Be well, Mike, Marsha

I find, too, that dreams can be healing. In the beginning it was all about processing what happened. Now, it's more like finding out what's going on - and what's possible. As I've posted here before, I had a dream a while back, and Joe was in a great place, with people who loved and protected him. Since then, the dreams are more about searching. I know it's our own minds that produce these dreams - but not all of them, of that I'm sure. I hope and pray it's a message from our loved ones, to us. Peace, Marsha

I hear you loud and clearly, Fred - I'll just pray that G-d wraps his arms around Marcia, Wendy, and the family - we are all finite. Prayers and hugs, Marsha

Ann - yes - my niece's thought was that if Joe made me angry enough, it would be easier to accept his death. Sorry, Joey, it didn't work! Kath, good words, and I agree. If I were to get a terminal sentence, I'm sure I would be cranky, pissed off, and generally just unbelieving, just like Joe was. He fought his fight with valor. Thanks, guys, for the healing words. Marsha

Thank you Fred, for keeping us posted. Waiting for results is so hard - I pray for Marcia to be well and Wendy to be strong - Marsha

Teny - Prayers for Anna and the baby - I know your heart is filled with worry. And peace to you - it will be ok. Love, Marsha

Kath - you talked about "sensing Bob's loss of affection." You've put it very delicately, and that too brings up a subject that those who haven't lost their spouses to cancer might find hard to take. Joe's cancer was so aggressive, and happened so fast, as I've said before. When I think back, it started with a staph infection in his leg. That's when he went to the doctor for blood work, and to see about the infection, and when we found out his liver functions were so out of whack. It went downhill fast from there. He changed so much physically, it was like looking at a holocaust victim, G-d help him. He refused hospice after the cancer went to his brain - radiation helped a little bit. He wanted to fight so much. But - this is so hard for me to talk about - not only that, but he changed mentally as well. He snapped at me, and was sometimes just downright mean. This was not him - it was the meds, it was his fear, and I was the only person to take it out on. His doctor said to me, after he died, "there's fear, and anger, and he chose anger." Joe would tell everybody else how much he loved me, and was worried about me, but he would not express those fears to me. He slept on the couch for 3 months, couldn't make it up the stairs without me backing him up so he wouldn't fall. My heart literally broke when I watched him. I kept up a positive face for him, but I just literally didn't know what to do. It wasn't constantly like that, we had many good moments in those months, we would sit in the sun, listen to music, but looking back, he was actively dying from March on, and resisted it at every level - as did I. I lost myself in his sickness - there was no Marsha left. That's why it's so hard to bring myself out of that journey with him, one he and I didn't want to take, and just try to take care of myself. Oh, boy - I didn't know I was going to write this until I did - Marsha

vickie - I don't think it's at all uncommon for the surviving spouse to kind of fall apart. Think of it - when Pat was alive, you were running on adrenaline. You were putting 100% of yourself out to keep him going, and putting yourself second. My Joe's cancer was not as long as Pat's illness, but I found myself doing the same thing. I think what happens after our spouses die, and I mean after the numbness and shock wear off a little, is that we are physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted. I have to laugh when I read about this or that celebrity in the hospital for "exhaustion". Yeah, right. And on top of that exhaustion, we have to back to work, deal with our grief, keep doing the things that life entails, because there's no choice. But I also see friends who are widows and widowers, of all ages, who are 3 or 4 years out, who do look better, who have started to get that light in their eyes again. Dear Vickie, I have to believe there's hope down the road. And along that path, we can share our concerns and fears to each other here. Hugs, Marsha (p.s. the Gladys Hardy clip you pm'd me did indeed make me laugh; what a pistol!)

Kay - Ensure tastes like chalk! Yuck. Marsha

Kay - thank G-d your son is ok! Oh, my word, woman, you have so much on your plate! From what you've written, I think you're going in the right direction, legally wise. It sounds like John's into not so great things - but you can only do as much as you can do. You have to look out for yourself. But how painful it must be! I just wanted you to know I'm thinking of you, and also thinking of any knowledge I have that can help - for right now you have my emotional support - Marsha

I know this may be a strange post - but have any of you changed physically? A friend of mine lost her 40 year old daughter suddenly a week before Joe died. When I see her, I see the face of grief. And I see it in the mirror. I've lost a lot of weight I don't need to lose - right now I'm the same weight I was in eighth grade!! (and that was a long, long time ago!) When Joe was sick, we both lost pounds a week, him because of the cancer and not wanting to eat, me because I literally couldn't put food in my mouth. But I'm stabilized now, and I do cook for myself. It's just scary looking at myself in the mirror sometimes - actually it's better, now, but it was scary skinny 5 months ago. I just look so different now. Marsha

rosemary - so what's wrong with being Dr. Doolittle? I think it's great, actually. So I'll tell you a funny story. I closed the shop today - I always throw out extra bagels out back to the fox/rabbit/feral cats/birds that like them - they're always gone the next day. So I go out back to close up, and I see this one bagel I've thrown out with this "thing" on top of it. It's a field mouse - and it's about half the size of the bagel! Just knawing away and having a field day - he took one look at me and hauled ass, but no doubt got back to it when I left - Jeanne - I hope you came out on the winning side! Love you all, Marsha

Kath - your posts have helped tremendously, you don't know - so you can write that on the tablecloth next year. I love that you take my mind to the positive. This may be a little skewed, so bear with me. I was just completing a Christmas food story for the newspaper I write for - I included a cheese tray as a buffet item. It brought me back to a trip I took with Joe in his big rig - we had stopped at a Ramada, and lunged into the free cheese and chicken wings they had on their happy hour buffet! It was fun, and when thinking about it I cried with both sorrow and the rememberance of the good time we had. I also remember taking my Mom to the seniors' center to pick up her lunch. This was the week my father had died, and this was three weeks after she came home from her 2nd brain tumor operation. She saw a male friend, in a wheelchair, and I remember her grasping his hand, up high like a prizefighter - and they looked at each other with this look, no words spoken, and they were both survivors. What I'm saying is I'm thankful for my husband, and my parents, who dealt with life - and death - so strongly. They lived their lives so well. I think about them, I hope I learn from them, I hope I can honor them by doing the same. I'm thankful, too, for the friends here, for sharing your innermost feelings. Because those feelings are mine, too. Thank you, Kath! Marsha

I do have to add to this thread - a friend that I emailed back to 3 months ago called me today. I had told her that whether she likes it or not, this is my life, and my pain, and I was sorry if she couldn't deal with it. We had a very good talk, but what struck me was what she said - "I don't know what to say to you that will make it feel any different, or better." I told her I would rather her say that then, "time will heal," etc.... Marsha

Friends - I was blessed yesterday to have a bunch of phone calls from friends and family far away. As I said, I chose to be by myself, but I cooked a lot. This is good therapy for me. I must say, I made a killer turkey soup! Proud of myself! But - in the conversations yesterday with friends and kin, maybe I'm just projecting, but I'm feeling a little impatience coming through, when I said, it's a hard day, I'm just going through it. They asked me, and I told them. Should I sugar coat it? Why?? It makes me mad, and makes me not want to talk to anyone about Joe at all, except here of course, thank the Lord. What is up with this? If Joe had a broken leg or a heart attack, and was recuperating, it would be accepted that he had x number of months to recover. Well, I'm recovering from a massive wound, you just can't see it. Why is it that people don't get this? Enough venting, here - and Fred, your post about "just being" just got it for me - love you for that! Marsha

No, Pat, you're not alone. I think the fact that it's a holiday makes it doubly depressing. I'm alone by choice - can't make social talk for more than 15 minutes! All my family is either 400 or 3000 miles away; friends have been kind, but I just think it makes me feel what I feel more keenly. It's one more day, Pat, and we both will get through it. Your friend's email was very perceptive - it's good to get messages like that, I think. As for your friends who think they know what's best for you? Well, they don't get it, and what they really don't get is that just about all of them will go through this in their lives, that being the loss of a spouse. I'm sorry if I sound harsh. The heck with them - I understand how you're feeling. Please continue to talk about it here! Hugs and peace, Marsha

Thank you, John - it's just what I need to remind me that Joe is here with me in spirit. Today's been hard - it feels like it's 48 hours long. I voluntarily chose not to go out to the several invitations that were extended to me. I'm so grateful to my friends, but to be honest, 15 minutes is about how long I can do small talk and socialize right now. So I cooked like a fiend all day. Made turkey, soup is cooking, am thinking a lot, praying, drinking wine (!), and I'm going to make it through my first thanksgiving without joe. I'm really down, but I'm also in my mind listing thanks for what I do have. Love and Peace to you as well, Marsha

The very same to you, Jeanne - and a peaceful and blessed holiday to all friends on this site. The poems posted were beautiful - love, Marsha

Kath - I feel myself trying to incorporate Joe's life into mine as well. It's a 2 sided thing - when I listen to music, when I read old cards, it makes me feel that he's with me, yet it makes me feel so sad, I can't bear it. Maybe what we're trying to do is see the person we became with our spouses, and make sense of it. I think we have to do this process in order to move through it, and find who we are. For me, all my senses say - NO - I don't want this!! I don't want to do this. I just want to fast forward through this. I know you miss your Bob so, but maybe this is what we have to do, right now, and I mean think about it, dwell on it, incorporate it. Kath, it is so hard - and I understand. Peace to you, Marsha

After looking at past posts, I realize that quite a few of you are football fans - can I just say that I'm very proud of my jets for beating the titans? I've been a jets fan since joe namath was quarterback - verrrrry long ago. It's been a long hard ride as a fan - I'm not a Brett Favre fan, but - whatever it takes. I'm kidding here, but I'll bet nobody posts me back - because everybody hates the Jets!! Love you all for a good past post reading - Marsha

OK, Wendy, I promise to be careful what I aim for! Thanks, guys, I feel better today - a walk on the beach always seems to help. Like the ocean, my tidal wave is receding, for today - and I'm grateful. Fred, like Teny said, your posts always make me sit up and think - your support is so appreciated. We may not be here physically for each other, to give hugs, but your your posts are keeping me sane - I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Kay, Deb, Karen, and Mike - I hope for a peaceful night for all of us, Marsha