marsha

((HUGS)), Korina - I have no words of wisdom, just wanted you to know I'm listening. Marsha

How much time do you have, lol? When I was in the deli, at 4 a.m. baking, this was just after Joe died, there was this fly that kept buzzing around the kitchen, then landing on the table or bopping me in the head. I got it into my brain that this was Joe, reincarnated. I yelled at the fly, I cried over the fly, I even tried talking logically to the fly. I got over it, but damn if I didn't believe it. Hugs, Marsha

I didn't want to hijack Rochel's thread, so I figured I would put this out. I've been wondering what to do. I always go through the year's files when I'm getting stuff ready for my accountant. And again I've looked at the files where I've kept Joe's medical records, from those 4 months. Even admission papers, for the multiple hospital stays. Why am I keeping them? I keep memos that he wrote, lists, because they're in his handwriting and I just can't bear to part with them. But the medical records? All they record is pain, not what his life was about. I should just toss them, but I wanted to get some input from you guys. I don't even understand, to myself, why I keep them. Anyone? Hugs, Marsha

Hi, Kim!!!!! It's good to hear from you - your sweet thoughts and encouragement have helped me today. Hugs, Marsha

Marty - so true! I can't tell you how many times I thought to myself, silently, "you have no idea of what I'm going through". And it's true - no one else knows our personal grief, because it IS personal. But it's the human connection that made me, slowly, realize that no one gets out of here alive. Friends opened their wounded hearts to me, and in turn, I to them. As I wrote in my journal today, I realized this - the first months I was faking it till I made it. I can't say I've made it, Lord knows, it's a struggle - but..from comparing this year to last I can now actually listen to what people are saying--between the lines. I need this connection, for my friends, but, maybe selfishly, more for me. Hugs, girl - Marsha

...and sometimes I'm not as tolerant or empathetic as I should be. Working on it.

Fredzgirl- I noticed this last year, and this year, too. I can't get warm. I'm sitting here with 3 layers on, thick wool socks, and I'm freezing. Kath - toss the caulk, it's done! (I've tried it) - Korina - the first year of getting the stuff ready for my accountant was miserable - I had to gather together all of the medical receipts, and I swear, going through them I remembered every time I ran to the pharmacy, every time I took Joe to the hospital. It was like re-running every step of his illness through my head. Just do what you can do - you have a couple of months. Hugs to all of us, Marsha

Time - in my first year of grieving I clung to that word. Time would make it better. I would work through my grief and this pain would ease. Fast forward to well into my second year - yes, time has eased the raw pain. But in all these months of looking into myself, our marriage, what love and death really meant, I realize I have pretty much no answers, and what the heck was the question anyway? But I guess that's the point. I'm living my dash now (well, coasting, a lot). Joe was the love of my life, my best friend - but in the scheme of things it was and is my life only. That was true before I met him, and it was when I was with him, and now it's without him. I'm kind of in a place where the pain is in my heart, and I see it's going to be there for the rest of my life. But me? Day to day? It changes. Constantly. Sometimes I can't see living the day in front of me, and sometimes I walk on the beach and see G-d's grace, and watch the ocean, continuous, waves breaking, like they've done thousands of years before me, and will be thousands of years after me. And I write, Marsha loves Joey, in the sand, and walk on. Just kind of rambling...Hugs, Marsha

Thank you, Mary Linda - a lot of plain spoken truth in this, and a lot to take to heart. Hugs, Marsha

Keep talking to us, John. When Joe died, I did what I had to, zombie like, I'll admit - but there were times I literally thought I was losing my mind. Each of us, I'm sure, has our own way of trying to cope. I know this is going to sound strange, but sometimes we have to give in to the pain, and let it have its way, whether by crying, screaming, posting, talking...or just letting it wash over us. Letting the wave come, and recede. We're here to listen, and support each other. Hugs, Marsha

Yes, you've got a lot on your plate, Mel - I'm glad you posted. Hugs, Marsha

And yet...I/we (can't just say I yet) own a deli, and I've seen my regulars for years. I don't know what it is - I don't wear my heart on my sleeve at work, but, after Joe died, I remember an instance where the manager of the store next to me said, out of the blue, I lost my daughter when she was seven. Or another customer, saying, I lost my wife when I was very young - I couldn't even talk to anyone for 2 years. There were others. People whose grief was buried, somewhat, only to be brought up again by mine, and wanted to share it with me. It humbled me, and I was grateful. The DGI's I steer clear of - but the human angels, and there are many, even strangers - I thank G-d for them.

I'm seconding Kathy - Boo's blog is awesome.

John - I started a journal a week after Joe died. My first sentence? "I don't know where to start." I just wrote how I felt, sometimes just fragments, not even a complete sentence. At first I just wrote about my pain, over and over again. If I had dreams, I wrote those down as well. Sometimes there wasn't even any cohesion to it - it was like a stream of consciousness. It just helped get the feelings out of my head. I hope this helps, a little bit. I still do it, every day - my journal's 180 type written pages long. Hugs, Marsha

It's not small, it's huge - and I get it. Hugs, Marsha

Debbie: You know, I just started yoga 3 weeks ago, but I had the same feeling, during the same exercise. The instructor was speaking calming words during the end of class breathing. I felt tears come to my eyes - it was like my mind was opening up. But I welcomed it. The reality and trauma were always with me, big time, over and over, for a long time. And this IS a trauma, that we're going through. Pushing it away is normal, I mean, who wants to think of the circumstances of our spouse's deaths, over and over? It came unbidden to me, whether I wanted to think or not. But - it changes. Hugs, Marsha

Sharon - sorry, my knee jerk reaction is, WTF?? I had a very close friend email me a cheery note, like 2 weeks after Joe died. I sent her one back saying, I'm sorry if you can't accept or deal with this, but Joe's dead. And I'm not going to be ok for a long time. Didn't hear from her for 3 months, then she called me and said, "I'm sorry - there's nothing I can say that will make this any better." I said - that's all I wanted to hear. Sometimes bluntness is the key to our sanity. Hugs, Marsha

Korina - I so wish you strength, and peace. For me it was the opposite. I went right back to work. Grieving took place every afternoon, when I came home. Weekends, oh boy. It's now, when I have some time off, and last year, same thing, when the time weighs heavily on me. And I worked with Joe. I saw him everywhere. Double oh, boy. Routine, for me, helped, but in the beginning it was g-d awful. It gradually becomes easier. Well, I meant this as a positive post - it is, though. I guess I'm saying the early steps are the most difficult, but with time, it does get easier. Hugs to you and your wee one - Marsha

Thank you for the tough love, Marty - sometimes I need a gentle but firm kick in the arse to jump start me! Mary Lou and Kathy - yes, there is love, and support, and good things, too - when I looked at the news this morning, and said a silent prayer, I thanked G-d for a roof over my head, food to eat, a bed to sleep in - and friends. Hugs, Marsha

that 18 months is a drop in the bucket, that I still need to be gentle on myself and not push too hard, that I still get widda' brain and that I'm not losing it. I'm falling into that "it's 18 months and I should be..." mode and I'm driving myself crazy. Help!! Marsha

Sherry - it sounds great! I'm happy for you, and I'm glad you decided to do it. (Now, can I admit to a tad bit of jealousy, lol??) - Hugs, Marsha

Bren - I'm so sorry for the loss of your Ron. It's good that you've come here - before I lost Joe, I had never been on a forum before, but the support and understanding from others who've walked/are walking the same path was a lifeline. I found that, although friends and family who love me were truly supportive, I couldn't explain, and didn't understand for that matter, what these new emotions were. It helped to express them, and know I wasn't alone in this. Please keep posting...Hugs, Marsha

John - I hear the pain in your post. I've been there, and sometimes, I still am in that place. There's no quick fix for grieving (see Teny's thread). There have been many, many times where I sat on my couch, tv on in the background, and spent hours staring at the ceiling. I wasn't capable of doing anything else. But I also think that's absolutely the only thing to do, sometimes, as we need time to comprehend, as painful as it is. What you're sinking into is slow realization after the numbness; and the anguish is part of it. And I realize your situation makes it all the harder. I can only say what the folks here said to me, and what I tried to do, and that's live in today, just for today. Hugs, Marsha

Dear Teny - yes, I think so many of us shared that same kind of relationship with our spouses. And in doing so, makes it so much the harder to find a purpose and continue on. I'm at 18 months, and I'm having a BAD day. Sometimes I feel like I'm just waiting...waiting. It's good to hear the hope in your post - Hugs, Marsha

Thank you, Alden - I did look it up and read it, and it was beautiful and heartbreaking. Marsha