marsha

Marty - I loved this first paragraph - it put into words exactly what I've been (or tried to) be doing. I'm the opposite of most widows, I guess. I retreated instead of jumping out. Keeping my (our) business going has, of course, been in the forefront. But I've also given myself a heck of a lot of neutral time, as Bridges calls it so eloquently. Does it make anything easier? No, not really - but when I look back over the thousands of baby steps and see where I am to where I was, it's then I see the difference. One more thing - to me, when I stopped thinking of grief as something to get through, and instead realized that every day has just been my life...it puts things in a different perspective. It kind of took a burden of sorts off of me. I'm still a work in progress, lol. Hugs, Marsha

I'll keep fingers crossed for you, Kay - as far as Quickbooks, I've gone from one version to the next (in my small business). It wasn't a major learning curve to get on board with the newer version. If you're used to Quickbooks, you should be fine. If I can do it, you can do it, woman!

And to add to Kay's comment - it's also important to note that said stages come back over and over again - it's not get it done and it's over with. Would it be so!

This is an interesting article, Marty. When I think of it, the people I've met here, and the widows/widowers I know IRL, are some of the strongest people I've ever met. And yes, I include myself, too, as angst ridden as I can be at times. I feel like I've been through the fire and survived, even as survival is still day to day. It's a strange feeling. Mary, your statement "if I choose not to grow...", yes, I've thought this often. If I can't learn/take something from this, where am I?

Beth - it's only that we can think of it with hindsight now. And we have the time to do it. I've thought this so many times. One thing I realized was that Joe was on his own journey, and what I thought I should have/could have done wasn't necessarily what he would have wanted. He didn't want to "have the talk" because he decided to fight his cancer in his own way, on his own terms. I was not a caregiver as long as you, but I remember very well that i was running on adrenaline only, and stretched to the max. And, not knowing what or when Joe's time would be, trying to keep life as normal as possible. As much as I would have loved to be Mother Theresa, I wasn't. I did the best I could, as did you. Hugs, marsha

Hugs, Deborah, and prayers to all in Irene's path to stay safe. 24 hours of this crap, and it's still going strong - still on top of us. Still just west of Hatteras. Move along, little doggy, lol. Hugs, marsha

Crossing my fingers for you, Kay - hugs, Marsha

Dave - I read this and really felt compelled to add my thoughts. It IS all about you. Does that sound selfish? Yes, it is. And yes, it is totally, 100% necessary for your own well being, physically and emotionally. The first year, for me, was all about survival. And when it comes down to it, as much as family and friends care, we have to tend to ourselves, because we're the only ones who can do it. Thus, the survival thing. Take care, Dave - Marsha

A great list, Tammy. I could relate to just about all of them (save the jumpstarting one). What I've learned, at three years - that I will grieve Joe until I die. But - it that realization, it sets me free, in a way. Its sets me free from putting pressure on myself to fit in, to get over it, to move on. It sets me free to let go of society's expectations of where I should be and what I should be doing. It sets me free to remember with tears, with laughter, with conversations in my head, and let the thoughts happen when they happen. It sets me free to know that it's all inside of me now, that I don't have to answer to anyone but G-d and myself. That's what I've learned. Hugs, Marsha

I'm so sorry, Kay. Please rest up today. Is there a dental school, or a dentist that will take you for free, or on a sliding scale? I totally get what you're saying - even though things happen that have nothing to do with them, it just seems to bring the loss to the forefront. Hugs, Marsha

Hugs, Teny - still here...and I understand what you're saying. I like solitude, also. I like working and I like talking and joking with my customers and my friends, but I find it a relief to be alone, to journal and think and just be. It's a hard thing to explain, isn't it? Love and hugs, Marsha

Hugs, Deborah, big ((hugs)) - I feel similarly to you. There's still a part of me that's broken - and I'm not sure how to fix it, or if I can fix it. I understand, logically, the integration of grief into our lives, but sometimes it just hits me all over again. Joe's dead? How can that be? This is truly the long haul part of the process (for want of a better word). Uh oh, I feel a WTF?? coming up....love and hugs, Marsha

Good God, what is wrong with this computer? I'm sorry I'm replying and replying - what I wanted to say was that when you open your soul here, I hear it and feel it. Literally - you're a special person, Carol Ann - Hugs and love, Marsha

I think you've captured the spirit of the holidays quite beautifully, Vic. Peace, love, and hugs, my friend - Marsha

Well, It's been 11 months and I'm still reading posts, reply once in a while and still cry at the smallest or biggest things since the loss of my husband. You have all been very supportive and attentive in your advice and replies and words of comfort to my rants. I'm not going anywhere but in some ways I feel I am still the same, with the same thoughts and feelings and emotions. In other ways I think I have accepted everything, but I still don't want to. It's like an adult having a temper tantrum. In a way, part of me still feels in shock and numb with denial and the ongoing emotional roller coaster hasn't stopped. With every single time I am folding towels and socks to put them in place, like today, I burst into tears because he used to come in to the room where I dumped all the clothes on the bed to sort out and sometimes I lay on the clothes and he'd say, "I caught ya, sleeping on the job." LoL I also unexpectedly burst into tears last week when I thought what was an unusal package from the funeral home that came in the mail was a Christmas ornament that said, "Don't worry about me, I'm spending Christmas with Jesus this year" because it seemed to be him, talking to me personally even though every one who had someone pass from that funeral home received one. I, like I think all of you am feeling really down, I think I don't want to ever feel good again. That's just me. Everyone is different. I just thought I'd check in to let you know I am keeping you all in my thoughts and prayers every day. If it wasn't Christmas, it would be another day, or another reason, or another thought about Danny that brings me down. I just can't seem to believe I can change my thoughts that I don't want to die but I don't want to live without him either. I'll be with family for sometime during the Christmas season, and I hope and pray each and every one of you have someone to be with every day for the rest of our lives.

God bless,

Suzanne

Suzanne - I'm not sure, but are you thinking of the time thing? As in, it's 11 months, I should be....somewhere different. I remember, and I get it. Hell, I'm still going through it, in one way or another. I'm thinking the deal is to be a marathon runner, rather than a sprinter. To know that this awful journay take SO much time - and it does. And that I'm not going to get over Joe's death, simply try to come to grips with it. Time, time, and more freaking time. Hugs, Marsha

Sorry, Melina - my computer belched. Sick? I don't think so. I got on FB after Joe died, so he didn't have a page. But yeah, his voice is still on my home phone, and my cell phone. I've gotten one comment that I should change it, but many more saying - it's good to hear Joe's voice. I don't care. I like it. Screw them. Hugs, Marsha

Melina - I think I asked "what's the point?" about a thousand times. I did the same as you, in the beginning - not knowing what I was feeling, I wanted some kind of vantage point whereas I could see what my emotions were all about. And that's ok. The grief books helped me form some kind of semblance to what I was feeling. But Melina - you're you. You're going through your own private hell - and don't worry if your emotions don't adhere to what you're reading, because, in fact - they won't. And that's normal, too, for you. In reality, I've had (and still do) emotions and feelings that are off the scale. BTW. rambling is good - hugs, Marsha

Hello, everyone. Today has been what I'm beginning to call a "numb day". I woke up this morning in a strangely detached frame of mind. I looked at all the pictures of Glenn that I have scattered around the house, but felt oddly numb. I filled my day with projects and managed to keep busy, but even this evening when I look at his photo, I have a blank feeling. This has happened once before, about 3 weeks into this journey (it's been almost 5 weeks now), and I remember that it gave me some respite, but when it wore off, the grief was brutal. Now, I'm afraid that tomorrow, I'll be a mess and I have so many errands to run and things to do.

Has anyone else experienced this? It almost makes me feel guilty, but I'm wondering if it's my brain's way of keeping things under control.

Yes, in the beginning, and it freaked me out. I know now it truly was my brain and body's way of kind of giving me a break, for my mental and physical health.

Thank you, Carol Ann - that was beautifully and simply stated, and so very, very true. Hugs, Marsha

Kat - yes, the second year is harder in a lot of ways. You say "I know it is not possible." Family obligations? Ok, maybe - but it's your feelings that have to be acknowledged. I know I probably go against the grain, because I actually like my solitude (most of the time). The second year, although I had invitations for Thanksgiving, I also knew there was no way I wanted to be social. I love my friends, but I just couldn't face hours of small talk. For some reason, in my gut, I knew the emptiness you speak of would be exacerbated by trying to go through the motions. So I cooked the hell out of a 15 pound turkey (for myself!). It's hard no matter what we do - I'm glad you got this out. Hugs, Marsha

Hugs and peace to you, Deborah..

Melina - I totally agree with Kay about your therapist. It took me 9 months to even move Joe's sandals from the front door. You do these things when you're ready. I donated, gave away clothes, but it was in very slow increments, and only when I felt it was time - and even then, just a little bit at a time. I don't know, but I'm looking around my living room, and I see my grandmother's sewing machine and silver thimble, my dad's planer (using it as a work of art), I wear my mom's ring...you see where I'm going with this? These things represent my family, so why the hell should I get rid of them? And why get rid of all our husband's possessions? Three months is so very raw - please don't feel that you have to DO anything save what you feel is right in your heart. Hugs, Marsha

thank you my far away friends .today is another sad aniversary for meour wedding.When we are happy life goes fast.I do remember all happy years and it looks so far away like if Im not the same person that was once in love and happy.I would like to know how are all of you that posted here when I started are going on.My email is teny @ ath. forthnet.gr I dont know why my profile is not at the site any more. love to all of you .TENY

You're still here, Teny, and it's good to here from you. I'm not the same person anymore, either - it's hard to explain, even to myself. Some things are ok - I've done some things, I've accomplished - but that's the external. The internal, well - that's harder. So many emotions, and layers of emotions - hugs to you - Marsha

Ah, yes, Marty, but my chipolte potato chips are perfect. A good read - and something to think about. And btw, you're a treasure - Hugs, Marsha

Kay - Yes, George lived. Yes, he did all these things. You want to know something? In the 2 years I've been on this forum, and in all the past posts I've read, I feel like I know him, through you. That's how personally, from the heart, you've described him. A good friend (cancer survivor) said to me a long time ago, you know what? We all live, and we all die. Some, very few, will make an impact that's felt to the world. But we, in our lives, make such an impact on those we love and those who love us, and that won't ever leave. So, my dear Kay, George has made an impact even on those who never knew him - through you. Hugs, Marsha