mrspapajohn

Most of you won't remember me. I haven't been on this site in over a year. The grief, not mine, but everyone else's, was too much for me to take. I was going through a very bad time when the second anniversary of Stephen's death came along. My beloved husband died, after a very wonderful thirty year marriage, at home, in his bed and in my arms. Like most of you, I had to remind myself to breathe, and I believe that I cried continuously, 24X7 for months and months. There were only two things that helped at all: 1. I came here and sometimes posted, but mostly just read amid this sea of grief. We kept each other going, and it seems that it still works that way. 2. I read a post by Margo Mayhew (www.boomayhew.blogspot.com) Margo's husband died the exact day that Stephen did, and I marveled that she could put into words EXACTLY what I was feeling. I didn't know where her strength to write about the horrible details of it all came from. I still don't know how she is still doing it. But, her personal strength kept me going. I remember her words, she figured that anything her husband, Cliff, "fought so hard to keep, must be worth fighting for." So she stayed alive, kept me alive, and continues to fight. My husband, Stephen, was very ill for three years before he died. In order to get up every day, he decided that we needed a purpose, and that was that we should write. I was not brave enough to write about was really going on, so we wrote fiction. We wrote about a future when genetic scientists had created a world where no one ever died. As we neared finishing the first novel, superstitiously, I could not bring myself to write the words, "The End," so I got Stephen to start another story. By the time he died, we had five novels in various stages of completion sitting in our computer. After Stephen died, it took almost a year before I could even look at what we had written. But his sister gave me a good kick in the butt, and I finally finished one of the novels, MALIGNED. It was picked up by The Martin Sister's Publishing and is now available on Amazon.com and in E-book formats. (One down, four to go). My own site is www.kathleenpapajohn.com. I have posted the first chapters of a couple of other books we started there, too. I hope you'll give MALIGNED a read, or tell someone who likes a dystopian novel with a lot of thrills, action and a little romance thrown in. God bless everyone on this site and in this very sad club that no one chooses to join.. My heart goes out to you all. Kathleen Papajohn, Stephen's widow

Kim - - I believe that many of us, if not most or all of us, have a very tough time getting through our anniversaries without our loves beside us. At least, I know I do. Tomorrow, you will be in my thoughts and in my heart. I am praying that you will have some happy memories to sustain you and that you find peace and comfort from the good memories. As ever, your friend. Kathy

Mo - - Here are a couple of websites about "Camp Widow/er." Boo and I have already signed up and I would be so happy if you decide to go. This has given me something to look forward to. This year's seminar is August 6-8, 2010. www.sslf.org/camp_registration.html https://resweb.passkey.com/Resweb.do?mode=welcome_ei_new&eventID=2492985 If you have any trouble, feel free to contact me and I can e-mail the information to you. Kathy

Mo - - I believe that I have the details of the seminar somewhere on this PC (I am so disorganized). I will try to find them and then post them. Personally, I can't wait to meet as many of our group as possible. Kathy

Boo - - Of course you are often in my thoughts. Your posts and blog got me through some very bad times - - times that I did not think that I could survive. I am still looking forward to meeting you in person at the widow/widowers seminar this August in San Diego, and then getting to show off Phoenix to you. Please take care. My thoughts are with you and with Cliff. As ever, Kathy

Oh, Nats - - I am so sorry for the pain you are going through. Those first few months are so hard. Like you, I cried every day. Some days, I just could not stop the tears. My eyes were swollen all the time and my nose was raw. I must admit, I still cry often (even after a year since my Stephen has been gone) and sometimes, the loneliness is overwhelming. But something is different than those first horror-filled months. Now, I am coping better. When someone asks how I'm doing, I can actually say, "Fine. How are you?" even though I'm not fine and all I can think of is "he's gone, he's gone." But I am functioning. Once in a while I even laugh, something that was impossible in the early days. I am trying to develop other interests. I am retired (just this year), so I don't have work to fill my days, but I take a lot of walks, try to write a little (very amateurish novels), read a lot, play online poker (fun money - not real) and as soon as my bad rotator cuff heals, I plan to volunteer at a consumer protection and resolution group here in Phoenix. This making a "new" reality is not for the feint of heart. But one thing that I have learned is that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I could be. I realize that the missing part and loneliness is still there, but the pain, both mental and physical, has decreased. I am no longer what I always considered to be a "basket case." Even when people told me that it would get easier, I could not see how it was possible that they could be right. But they were. It does become easier - - first it becomes bearable, then easier follows. I wish you comfort and peace - - two things that are hard to come by, but will slowly reenter your life. You are in my thoughts. Kathy

Nats - - I am so, so sorry for your loss of your dear wife. I lost my husband, Stephen, after a three year illness where, like you, I was his xhief caregiver. After a loss this great, we feel raw, like someone took away our skin. Everyone reacts differently. Sometimes we even think that our reactions are crazy. They're not. Scream, cry, sit silently, need to be alone, need people - - anything and everything is o.k. if it takes away a little of the searing pain. Just remember, you must take care of yourself. Our loved ones fought so hard for life because it is previous. It is a tribute to them to take care of ourselves. Eat, breathe, try to sleep (almost impossible for me). I don't know if you had hospice, but they have counselors and groups that may help. Personally, I could not have survived without this site. Everyone on it feels like family. You will find nothing here but love and support from people who get it because they have been there. My best to you and I know you will find strength that you never knew you had. Kathy

My Dear Teny - - I have been reading your posts from far away ever since I joined this site almost 13 months ago. I am so sorry for your hard times and your continued sorrow over Yani, but I believe it is normal after spending so much time and so much love on someone whom you expected to spend the rest of your life with. The love does never die and I believe that we will always carry our loved ones with us in our hearts. I am thinking of you, my far away friend, and sending you ((hugs)). Take care. I am with you in spirit. Kathy

Wendy - - I hope you make it through this anniversary o.k. Today is the 13th month anniversary since I lost Stephen and I believe that each of these anniversaries take away a little more of our soul. You will be in my thoughts. Kathy

Lucia - - I am so glad that you made it through the anniversary of Ben's death. That one year mark was one of the hardest for me to bear, even though every day is hard. I think it's wonderful that you are going to go to Georgia temporarily to see if you like it. I thought long and hard about moving to Ft. Worth to be near Stephen's family, but finally decided to stay here. Our loves will be in our hearts no matter where we are. I wish you the very best. Just remember to take care of yourself. Kathy

Gary - My husband, Stephen, died after a liver transplant just a little over a year ago. Although I get through most days o.k., like you, that black hole is never far away. I still cry often (when alone), but still remember how terribly, terribly difficult those first months were. Time certainly does not heal all wounds, but we do get stronger. In fact, it is amazing to find personal strength that you never knew was there. Peace. I will be thinking of you. Kathy

Sharon - - Birthdays are so hard. I wish I knew something that I could say to make it easier. I also don't know what to say about a friend who remembers your birthday but not the date (at least year) of the single greatest loss of your life. Susie Q's response makes so much sense to me. Maybe it is a test of your feelings for your friend. If it is a test, I'm not sure if I could pass it. I hope you make it through today by finding some little bit of peace, maybe even a happy memory. I will be thinking of you. Kathy

Kat - - I am so sorry that you had to go through returning to the emergency room with someone you love. It must have been very painful for you. The strength that we find that we have is amazing. It is such good news that she will be o.k. You will be in my prayers as will your mother. Kathy

Marsha - - My best wishes to you today. Kathy

Sue -- Please accept my sincere sympathy for your loss of Dale. I believe that one thing you will learn if you continue on this site (and I hope you do; I believe it saved my life) is that there is no "normal" way to grieve. Anything is permissable no matter how "crazy" it may seem at the time. Another thing is that grief has no timetable. It comes and goes on its own schedule. And there are always setbacks. Just when we think we are doing better, we hear a song, or smell a familiar smell, or just a random thought pops in just to torture us a little more and off we go. I believe that you will find the people here "get it" when even many of your dearest friends and relatives don't. We have all walked in your shoes and continue to do so. It is a very long journey, maybe a lifetime. I hope that you will continue to post and to let us know how you are doing. Feel free to vent, rant, rave or even offer support to some one else. You will find nothing here but love and support. Peace Kathy

Kim - - I can only echo what Dusky has said. It was one year ago yesterday that I lost Stephen. He died at home, in his own bed and in my arms. That moment is like a dvd recordimg in my brain that just won't turn off. This last year has been like a roller coaster. Like you, my friends kept asking me to lunch, but I could not go. I was not only afraid that I would break down, it was also that I did not want any enjoyment that Stephen could not share. I am still not able to eat foods that he loved. But I am better. The feeling of having your skin peeled off is gone. The raw edge of near-hysteria is gone. Still, the sadness remains. I often cry and still any memories of Stephen bring me sadness, not joy. Some days I don't want to wake up and face another day without him, but there are days when it's o.k. Days when I can talk with my friends and even laugh. I don't think that we will ever get over missing our loves, but we do find the strength to go on. Life was precious to them, and, much to my surprise, I find that it is precious to me also. I am so sorry that you have had to find us and to join our sad, but very loving little club. You asked if it will get better and my answer is yes. We each have to find our way in life without the partner we expected to be with us every step. It is a difficult journey. Finding this site and this family has made it easier for me and I hope it will in some way ease your terrible pain. I wish you love and I wish you peace. I will be thinking of you. Kathy

Rochel - - Your post certainly brought back memories. When I cleaned out most of Stephen's clothes (I couldn't get rid of everything so I kept some of his favorite things - including his robe) I gave them to his two brothers and Stephen's nephews. On our anniversary, I flew from Phoenix to Ft. Worth to visit Stephen's grave. One of his brothers and Stephen's nephew picked me up. When his nephew got out the car, I almost fainted from shock. He was wearing one of Stephen's shirts and for a moment I thought that my dear husband had come back. He looked exactly like Stephen when we first married. Neither Stephen's brother nor his nephew knew why I couldn't stop crying. Kathy

Babs - - I didn't find your post rude. In fact, I almost feel that I could have written it myself. I'm pleased that you and other peacemakers are on this site, but I would expect nothing less. I like to think that I am that way, too. It's just that sometimes I'm not as brave as I should be. Kathy

By the way, my take is that we stand together. I have been on this site for a year. I have even met good friends here and think of us all as a family. I believe that if any one here needed help that I was capable of giving, I would be there to give it. I believe the one positive that has come to me out of this terrible grief is the bond that I feel with other site members. Kathy

Sorry, Babs - - I believe that I found what you were talking about under Behaviors in Bereavement. I guess that I am so absorbed in my own grief that I rarely, if ever, read posts under anything other than loss of a spouse. When I did read some posts that I believe you are referring to, my first impulse was to jump in to defend Marty, but decided (I hope rightly so) that Marty is extremely capable of defending herself. I am so grateful to Marty for establishing this site and giving us all a forum where we can find loving, caring people who actually "get it." But at least now I understand your post and appreciate what you wrote. Actually, when I read the posts under Behaviors, it almost felt good to have something tangible to get angry at. I seem to get so angry sometimes and I don't even know why. Kathy

Babs - - What quarrel are you talking about? I can't seem to find a post that fits. Kathy

John - - I agree with Sharon that you should try counseling. What you are feeling and how your emotions are overwhelming you is normal. I used to think I was going crazy, but I found out that the emotions of people who lose someone they love are so completely overwhelming and foreign that almost anything they do is "normal." When I lost my husband, I did not stop crying for months - - literally. The only time I stopped crying was when I slept (which was infrequesntly) and I would start crying again as soon as I woke up because I had to face another day without him. My eyes were so sore from crying (like a nose that is sore from when you use a tissue too much when you have a cold) that I had to see a doctor just to get a salve to ease the eye pain. I admit that I still cry, but not every day. I still miss him terribly, but I can cope. I can't eat food that he loved, but I do eat. I stay up till all hours of the night, but I do eventually sleep. I want to talk about him constantly, but I am with friends and do not even say his name. I guess what I am saying is, give in to the pain you are feeling right now. Scream, cry, sit in the middle of the room and don't move for hours, but amidst all the pain, take care of yourself, because it will change. You will always remember, but you will be able to handle the pain. My mother lost her husband, my father, - - in fact she outlived him by twenty years, and she did smile again, and laugh and even feel joy. You will too, as we all will. Please, please keep posting if it helps you at all. We are all with you and we understand. Peace, Kathy

John - - I was never able to put my feelings and emotions into words, so journaling never helped me much. What did help me more than anything else was reading a blog that was started by another member of this group, Boo Mayhew. Boo's husband died the same day as my husband, Stephen, and when I read her blog, it was like she was saying all the things that I could not put into words and it helped me enormously. Her blog is http://boomayhew.blogspot.com/ If nothing else, I believe that Boo's blog is a good blueprint for journaling. I hope that it helps you. Kathy

John - - I wish that there were something I could say that would make a horrible day a little easier. It seems like even the weather is contributing to the sadness and the loneliness. I remember when I first lost my husband, Stephen, and people would tell me that it would get better, I didn't believe them. It felt as if my skin had been peeled off and it took every ounce of self-control I had just to keep from screaming. Everything was so raw and the loneliness was like a living thing that hovered over everything. I am still sad. I don't think that time will ever cure the sadness or the missing of my beloved, but I am coping, when I didn't think that I ever would - and you will too. My heart goes out to you and I am trying to send some of the strength that I have gotten from others your way. I wish that you find a little peace for today, and a little more each day that goes by. Kathy

Lucia - - You must be so proud of your Ben. He sounds like a wonderful man and the kind of man that the world really needs. I lost my Stephen just a little over a year ago and time has not healed the sadness, but it has made me stronger, stronger than I ever imagined I could be. I believe that is because Stephen is in my heart and is giving me the strength I need just to make it through every day. I am sorry that Ben and Stephen did not have a chance to meet. Stephen would have respected Ben's strength and probably would have walked shoulder to shoulder with him. I truly believe that your Ben is with you, too. I hope that you find some comfort. Don't worry about the tears. We all have them and they seem to provide a release that we need. I will be thinking about you today. It is truly a special day for all of us. Kathy