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Hi Martina. I, too, lost my fiance and it will be three months on January 22. I understand how you feel. I never got the chance to say my vows, either. I don't cry everyday anymore, but I'm sad all the time. It's good to try to get back into some type of activity, no matter how small it may be. I think it's good to feel as though you have control of something. Death is a horrible thing, it's just so final and there are so many things left undone, unsaid. You are not only grieving your fiance's death, but also the death of your dreams that will never be fulfilled. Anger is part of the process, I am still angry, too. Each one of us grieves individually and no one can tell you what's right or wrong. Keep coming back to the forum. We all understand. Take care.

Just getting my son ready for school and dealing with his issues on a daily basis are more difficult, especially since Clint is no longer here to help me. My son misses him, too; he misses the presence of the person he looked up to as a man. Clint kept him in line and I'm just too stressed to deal with some of his normal ten-year-old stubbornness. We are sharing in the grief, but it doesn't seem to ever let up for long. Even the most simple of daily tasks are challenging, especially since I have no one to share them with. On top of it all, the nights are lonely, too. Sometimes I really feel as though I'm the only one in the world who feels this way. Everybody else has gone on with their lives, seemingly unscathed by this tragedy.

Carol Ann, I am so sorry that your loss is compounded by this parole hearing. Complicated grieving/loss makes things much more difficult since it brings up all the crap in the past. I have been struggling, as well, with all my abandonment issues and I know it's just causing me to hurt even more now that Clint is gone. I also realize that I didn't work on my issues even prior to meeting him and becoming involved with him. Now that he's gone, a big part of my identity went with him, meaning I'm not only grieving his death, but my own in some ways. It's so cruel he had to die before I was able to work on my own emotions and independence. I guess I relied on his love so much that his absence makes me feel somewhat 'invisible'. I had considered suicide when I was very young, right after leaving my abusive family home. I had managed to ESCAPE, but didn't possess the tools necessary to function socially. I was making horrible choices in friends. I felt anyone who was NICE to me was my friend. Needless to say, I suffered so much loss from that. I don't feel suicidal now, but I just can't get into living, either. I do hope that you can find peace within yourself and not dwell on the past issues. Grieving Melissa's loss is enough. Here's hoping your impact statement will keep her rapist behind bars for the entire sentence.

Desire is a strange thing--especially when what you want you can't have, but your mind and heart refuse to accommodate the new, unwanted reality Steve, that's a good way to describe the feeling. My mind and heart refuse to accept this new reality. That's exactly how I feel.

The road is tough and lonely and some along the way will get pieces of it but I have learned NO one gets it because no one can know what we had and most have not lost a spouse. I went to church this morning after a two-month absence. I went a little after Clint's death and it was impossible to get through the service without sobbing. I thought staying away would give me time to 'heal' enough to return without falling apart. But it was almost worse today because it HAD been two months. People asking me 'how are you doing' and all I could do was 'lie' and say 'alright' when I know that's not true. I don't think they wanted to hear that the pain is just the same as then. The pain lessens a little each day, but being back in church, where we sat every Sunday for six years brought it all back. I even had someone who didn't know ask me how Clint was getting along? How could you not know that he's DEAD and you're a church member? I had to deal with the stares of pity with the occasional 'I'll call you'. Why does life continually go on and I'm still stuck? I was not ready to return to church...will I ever be ready? I am fine until faced with one of our traditions and I can't help but cry. I am so tired of these crying spells. I feel that if I change church homes, it will be disrepectful to his memory. After all, it was his church. People don't get why I am still so shaky, fragile and tearful. I hope they never know.

Clint died in October and I put away everything on his side of the bed, I have no idea why I did that since I left everything else out until just last week. I still have all his postal uniforms hanging up and they hit me in the face each time I open the walk-in closet. I have thought of hiding them to block them from view, but not actually putting them away. What good would that do? He is gone forever. I know that, yet putting everything out of sight seems as though I've decided to forget him. That isn't true, of course, but I suppose my mind plays tricks on me. I have accepted the reality of his death, but my mind just won't accept that he was snatched away from me unexpectedly. When will my mind and reality be in sync? I don't know that. Holding on to the presence of his things gives me, what? False hopes that maybe he didn't die and this is all a bad dream, or hope that his memory will always be fresh in my mind? This grief still has a strangle hold on me. I just wish it would let up.

This issue of others' expectations has recently been discussed in another thread. My brother phoned me last evening and when I said I wasn't doing well, he said, "What's the matter?"! I wanted to throttle him and say, "When your wife dies, you tell me how you're doing two months later, especially if it's on New Year's Eve!" Dimcl: How many times I've had that same experience and I really wish I could ask them how they'd feel if they'd lost their mate? No one seems to understand how much life changes when your mate is just 'GONE'. As though you can just go 'back to life'. What life? All I can say is that I wouldn't wish this on anyone.

Hello all, I remember dreading Thanksgiving and everything that follows which defines the 'holidays'. My constant prayer was for it all to be 'over'. It's easier to deal with life without the reminders of how much Clint enjoyed all the holidays and he's no longer here. I don't want to spend my life in this state, but it seems that whenever I make a small bit of progress, I start crying all over again. I changed my facebook profile photo. I had Clint's picture there since he died which has been a little over two months now. Various photos of Clint. My status statements were intermittent 'memorials' to his life and how much he's missed. It's funny that as soon as I changed the picture to one of myself, I received feedback from some of my friends who felt that 'now the mourning is over'. They actually congratulated me for coming out of my 'fog'! Can you believe that people think grief comes and goes that soon? Just because I changed the picture doesn't mean I've 'forgotten' him. Which brings me to the subject of making changes in our lives which are small positives. They don't mean we've forgotten our loves. I will never forget Clint and I'm sad he's gone. I don't like holidays and am dreading the future 'firsts' to come. Sometimes I think if I make any more 'changes', people will believe that the mourning is over and I've forgotten Clint. I can't stay in one place as a memorial to him and never move forward, can I? Is it even possible to expect much progress during this first year? I am relieved the holidays are over. Maybe my life can get back to whatever normal means now.

Lainey, I want to obtain the optimist attitude, but I'm stuck. Maybe it's because it's only been two months. But I agree. I don't want to spend the rest of my life mourning, even though I miss him. He'll never be back and I'll never be with him ever again. Part of me died with him but I have to learn to live with what's left. I hate bringing in a new year without him, but that's just the way it is.

Hi Billw: I lost my love in October and this was the first holiday season and I thought I was doing fine until I started crying uncontrollably between Christmas and New Year's. I stayed home for both events because I couldn't stand being around happy, festive people. I am still very angry and envious of happy people. Some days it seems I'm making progress, but lately, it's been very hard and sadder than usual. I am trying to feel positive of new beginnings with the new year, but I'm getting sidetracked because Clint isn't here to share this new year with me. I agree that the good days outweigh the bad for the most part, but the saddness doesn't seem to lessen all that much. I'm hoping for more progress in the coming months.

I suspect I am not the only one left with burden of debt from their spouse and finding it very difficult to make ends meet on one income. This fact complicates our loss so much and makes it hard to move along too. Anyhow, today my burdens, all of them are my friend, for I know they will bless me ultimately. Carol Ann, Sometimes I feel guilty about even thinking of this part of my grief, although it is a factor as well. We had the benefit of two incomes and I'm now trying to restructure everything. I also am angry that he drug his feet about marriage, because I don't even have the benefit of his pension. I don't think people even understand---how can I think of money right now? Well, the shock and pain of his absence is hard enough without the added stress of less income to manage things. This is just another fact of life. I hate that I wasn't his wife. I'm left with nothing but memories, I don't even have the respect of having had a 'legal' relationship. This just sucks all around.

Carol Ann, You are such an inspiration to me and I just wanted you to know that when I lost Clint, I basically lost my family, too. I can relate to having no one to call, but I do have my son, and I've been so much a basket case for the last week, I asked him to please forgive mommy for being sad when it seemed the entire world was just so damned happy! I tried to fake it, but it's lonely as hell without my friend and love by my side. It was good to give to others and I'm glad for you that it helped. I stayed in the house all day long, almost as a way to forget what day it was. I just couldn't deal with it. He's been gone two months and it's still raw at times. Through your grief and giving to others it seems you've made a friend and he seems to care for your wellbeing which is such a gift. Good for you! You have suffered much and survived. I hope to make the progress you've made. Take care.

But that's why we're here, Nancy, to give each other support on days such as this. I still have the decorations up for my son, who had a beautiful Christmas, although I've been a mess. I will be relieved when I can take everything down, too. I burned candles for Clint this morning and displayed his picture and a pair of his favorite sunglasses. I miss him, so much, today. My son missed his presence; he missed us BOTH being there to watch his face aglow with pleasure at opening his gifts. I told my son that Clint is here in spirit. But, of course, I'd rather he be here in the physical form much more. You didn't bring me down just because you have tears today. I have had them all week and last night while trying to get everything just right. He used to help me with the wrapping and diverting my son's attention while we played Santa. It was so sad to think I now have to do all that. We will move on past today, and on one of those days, you'll be much stronger and in a better place, and I'll be a mess and need you. We're here to help each other. Come on back if you feel the need. Take care.....

Merry Christmas to everyone. My son and I lit candles for Clint this morning, next to his picture and his favorite 'signature' sunglasses. Peace and love to all.

I just needed to take time today to thank you all for being here for me. I appreciate your taking time from your own grief to read my posts and provide comfort to me in my darkest days. I came here three days after Clint died, unsure of what to find, totally lost in a horrible abyss of sorrow, pain, anger and I can't even describe all of what I felt. It has been the most difficult loss of all the many other losses in my life. His death was exactly two months ago today and I think back to that day in his hospital room in the ICU, surrounded by all the machines that I'd only ever seen on TV or hooked up to someone else. Now it was Clint who was dying, on life support and it was as though I was outside myself watching someone else sit there awaiting his last breath. But he just can't be dying, I told myself this over and over, yet--he did stop breathing. He did die. And I have to live my life without the most important man in my life. I couldn't imagine how I could even leave him there, let alone go on living. You all understood and took me under your wings and I have found a new home with new friends who, no matter how silly my reactions or behaviors seem to the outside world, will be here for me 24/7. That is indeed a blessing. This is what I'm thankful for this holiday season. You have made life much more bearable amid horrendous circumstances. I am a much more effective mother to my grieving son and woman to myself. I will come here often and read your words, feel your pain and respond with words that I hope will help someone else. Thank you all again.

Hi Dimcl Today is the second month since Clint's death and I understand your pain. I am sorry you're feeling down right now, but we have to feel it to get through it. Christmas makes it worse for me and for many people. Just a year ago, we were together, enjoying the season and now I'm alone. I know how you feel about not wanting to be here sometimes, I feel that way, too. But then, I realize that if roles were reversed, he would move on and I don't believe he wants me to give up. Of course he's not the one grieving, but I must go on because even though it was his time to die, mine hasn't come yet. No, the world is not and will never be the same and people who haven't lost their mates will not understand. The world may not realize that grief takes lots of time to even become manageable, let alone "resolved". It will always be with us which is why we come here for comfort from our internet alliance. We know what we've gone through and are going through. I haven't been on this journey as long as some, and I still have a long way to go, so we can console each other. Take care and keep coming back!

Nirac I can sympathize with you. This will be my first Christmas without Clint and it has been totally void of any real feeling. I am observing it because of my young son and trying to make it special. Even he realizes the feeling just isn't the same. We went to a bereavement support group last evening and made holiday candles, which will now become a new tradition in our home to honor our lost loved one. It is unreal how the absence of a person can change life so drastically, but when I consider the loss of my true friend and partner, life will never be the same. As we move on through this painful journey, hopefully we will find peace. Take care.

Thank you, Teny, Yes, it's my first Christmas without my Clint and I miss him more than ever. The pain, is deep and I have no idea how many I'll have to suffer through before the pain lessens. I'm hoping the coming year will bring peace in your life and that conditions will improve where you are. I, too, feel like someone else. My life is so much different and the daily sorrow is always there. Here's praying we all get through our holiday and all the days of the coming years. Thank you.

Happy Anniversary, Nancy. I do hope your day brings you happiness and joy!

Considering we had been in and out of hospitals for months prior to Clint's final hospitalization, no one was even aware he would not come home. No one knew he was dying all those months and weeks before. We did not have a diagnosis of cancer until four days before his death, so we were basically in shock for his final hours. He didn't seem to know either so there were no 'final words', he was placed in an unconscious state when his breathing became labored. No one knew he was dying until we learned all his systems had shut down. What kind of finality is that? I can't help but go over and over it in my head and I don't think I'll ever get over it.

I know that had to be difficult and I can relate. Clint was a mail carrier for 31 years and for most of those years, had the same route which included many people he grew up with and their children, etc. He was well known and whenever I'm in that part of town, I run into people he knew and who constantly remind me of what a good man he was. It's heart wrenching, knowing he's gone and can no longer contribute to humanity and touch the lives of others. My heart goes out to you and to all of us who are missing that special someone during the holidays and every day.

Isn't that sad...we should move on...hopefully they never go through what we are going through No one knows unless they've gone through this. They merely speculate as to what they would do and what they think I should do. But, if they ever experience this horrible loss, I can be a source of support for them because then, and only then, will they understand.

I just don't know how to become social again without feeling as though people 'pity' me. I mean, I didn't ask for this, nor did I cause it. I didn't ask to be without my partner, and I don't enjoy going to the places I'm invited 'alone'. It's like, as soon as I walk in, I get this look from everybody like, 'that poor thing'. The sad eyes, the sad looks, the comments about him being better off where he is, he's no longer in pain, etc. Then they go on about their lives and I'm in this seemingly separate world where nothing even matters anymore. None of what they're saying matters to me and I know I'll be leaving alone and returning home alone. I just cannot even fathom things will ever feel any better. I find myself timing my arrival and departure like clockwork. How do you get back in touch with the world? I mean, beyond those things that have to be done, what do I care about parties, dinners, movies--anything involving fun? What is fun anymore? I hate that Clint is gone and our life is over. The intense pain has lessened a bit, but when will life make sense again?

Common law relationships are no longer recognized in OH since the 1990's; I believe there is a 'domestic partner registry' but that wasn't in place for us. His family gets whatever he had.

Every Friday marks another week and this Friday will be the eighth week since Clint died. I, too, am exhausted from papers and final exams while tending to my son who has fourth grade homework and little motivation to comlete his work correctly. I am tired of going over the same work with the same errors....he just won't apply himself and I'm just so out of it. I can't really work with him like I did before...I fluctuate between enthusiasm and depression and everything in between. I haven't done the laundry this week, nor have I cleaned the house as I should have. The dishes don't get done as often as they should and the floors need cleaning. It's like the usual things are so overwhelming. Where did all the energy go? I am sleeping better, but don't really want to get out of bed when I awaken, then don't want to go to bed either...tired of going to bed alone...