Anne E

Hello 123, Congratulations for completing your degree! What a great achievement. It is sad when you achieve such wonderful things and don't have your loved one to share that with. It is just sad. After three years of widowhood, I still wish Dick was here to share with me even the smallest success. It's so natural to want to share with someone you love. Wish I had some wonderful thing to tell you to make it better, but I don't. It's just what it is. Hope you can find some satisfaction in what you have accomplished in site of your loss. Maybe that thought would be helpful. Anne

Kinda blue today. Dick and I would have been married 43 years today. I miss him. Have been doing quite a bit of thinking about all the "What If's". I wonder if he would have ever improved enough to be totally self sufficient again. I wonder if we would ever had been able to go home. I wonder what we would have had to do if we did get to go home and he had to have constant help. I wonder if he would have ever had an appetite again and would actually eat enough food that he would not have to have the feeding tube. I know he would have absolutely hated life if the answer to any of those questions was NO! He was such a proud, independent man. I love him beyond reason and miss him terribly. Today, I will not be focusing on those thoughts, I will be focusing on the wonderful 39 years we shared together. I plan to focus on how much he showed me he loved me and that I was important to him every day of our married life. I was so blessed to have him! Anne

Good for you Brian! Doesn't it feel good to have memories that warm our hearts and feed our souls? Sometimes, it is hard to think and see positive, happy things, but they are there. Hope you have many, many more good days! ANne

The loneliness is like the 800 pound gorilla in the corner. It's been over three years and I still miss Him. It is so hard not having someone to share with who really gets me. He used to say I was an "acquired taste": since I seem to look at the world with a bit of a tilt. We had such a wonderful life. I miss it. I have decided just to tell myself....It's just what it is and that's that. Some days I cry; some days, I just smile and move on. I really love this site. You all know what I mean. Anne

yourgame, I have been a widow for 3 years, 3 months and 10 days, but who's counting? I still cry, but the difference is that FINALLY I don't really care who sees me. It's OK to let people see that you are hurting and in pain. I think a disservice has been done to us in that we are told not to show emotion, especially if we are in emotional pain. We have been raised to - be strong - soldier on - don't burden others with your problems, and on and on. It's much healthier for us to feel the hurt and express the pain. This site has been wonderful for me to underscore what I am learning in counseling and from my support group. I would suggest that if the opportunity to attend a support group comes your way, try to go. It will be helpful. Hang in there and know that we care. Anne

OK, this is annoying! I am not computer savy, and I CANNOT get my profile picture to load. It's not that big a deal, but I can see what you all look like and think maybe you would like to see what I look like. I go to the profile page, click on edit and then edit profile or whatever, then click on browse and click on my picture. The little circle thing on my computer page goes round and round and a couple of minutes, then it says it has happened,, but ............. no picture. GRRRRRRRRR........................

Have not posted on this thread before but have enjoyed reading all the positive happenings in your days. Today was a pretty good day for me. For the past two days I have not felt well. Today I decided I am fighting a dreaded summer cold. However, I did not give in to it and went out and finished planting the geraniums. I looked at the tomatoes planted yesterday and was so happy to see that their little leaves are no longer droopy. Dick was the gardener, it is sweet to plant things and feel close to him. It was a good day! Anne

Kay C How wonderful to know I am not alone! My counselor asked me yesterday if I ever invited anyone to lunch. I don't feel I know anyone well enough to do that. I don't want to just walk up to someone who is basically a stranger to me and ask them to go to lunch only to discover I CAN'T STAND THEM. They never hesitate to ask me to do some work at church, but they never seem to think of me when it comes to just having fun or just hang out. This one day at a time stuff gets to be a heavy burden sometimes doesn't it? Anne

What an interesting topic. I have been struggling with this very thing. About a year after Dick died, I moved to Colorado to be closer to our son. It has been incredibly difficult for me to find some friends to do things with. I have done all the things we are told to do to help us heal and move on. I have joined a church, volunteer, joined a women's support group, am taking a knitting class, etc. So here's what happens... The people at church as very friendly and caring, but I stand there after church and visit and they will stark to talk to each other about where they are going to eat lunch, but never seem to see that I am standing there and ask if I would like to go. What's up with that? Last week, I was leaving a meeting at church with 3 or 4 other women heading for our cars, we were discussing a book all of us had just read and they started asking each other if they planned to attend book club. Did any of them ask me if I would be interested in attending? NO. I was standing right there in the group. I just don't get it. It makes me unhappy with myself that I allow them to hurt my feelings, but I really don't feel comfortable asking "Can I come too?" just like I'm a little kid. That feels way too much like begging to me and I won't do that. What's wrong with people? Can't they see us? I realize I am new in this community, but I was raised as a military brat and we moved every 18 months or so and people were just more welcoming. I know I moved to a much smaller town, and these people have spent years together, but can't they see me? I am a young looking 64 years old, take baths, brush my teeth, dress well, have manners and have been told often that I am a nice person. I think I understand why couples my age don't invite me, but what's with other widowed women? Can't they remember what it was like? I'm bewildered. Anne

Marc, I am so sorry for your loss. I too am working on my "new normal". I agree that I feel my loss is unique to me and am afraid at times that I tend to think I have suffered more than any other human being. Of course, I know that is not true. We all have suffered a horrible, unique loss. Dick, my husband of 39 years, died three years ago in February. I do believe that I am beginning to accept my loss as true and have accepted that he will not be coming through the door again. He is still constantly in my thoughts, but the pain is not as bad. My memories are now sweet most of the time. I still wish I could share things with Dick and that he could see the great things our son does and how hard his son tries to be good to me. After Dick's death, my doctor advised me to "be gentle with myself and to give myself time to just be". I have been trying to follow his advise and allow myself time to just be. It has taken me almost three years to get to this point. When I get sad and feel like crying, I cry. When I am angry and want to yell, I yell. When I am just mad and out of sorts, I tell my son and the dogs that I am bitchy and out of sorts, and they leave me alone and stay out of the way. When I am happy, I am happy. I just feel and accept what I am feeling instead of running from it. Grief counseling, participating in a women's support group and following this discussion site have helped me unbelievably. It is comforting and encouraging to know that I am not all that unique and I am not alone. Hope you will continue to visit the site. Anne

It sure does feel incredibly lonely, hopeless and overwhelming most days, I totally agree. I remember it all very well. I wish I had something magical to tell you that would take it all away. Unfortunately, there is no silver bullet. Like you, I don't have much family, and what family my son and I do have, just is not that interested in dealing with us, I guess. I found that the first year is be so hard. Of course you are tired and in shock. When my doctor told me it would take at least a solid year for me to begin to feel a bit rested, I thought he was nuts. It takes a long time to get rested and get your strength back. I was fortunate to have an adult son and did not have to care for younger children. I am quite sure that increases your sense of feeling so overwhelmed. I'll share my doctors advise.....be gentle with yourself and take life slowly. Allow yourself to grieve. I wonder if you have had the opportunity to attend a support group? I balked at that suggestion for two years and now that I am going to a women's group, I regret that I did not avail myself of that help earlier. I regret that I thought I could do it by myself. I'm happy that you posted and am more than happy to just listen. Hang In There! Be Gentle with Yourself. Anne My husband, Dick, has been gone for 3 years. It does get better, but it is not easy and regardless of what we think we would like, it requires a bunch of work and endurance. I think I remember someone on this discussion group talked about what is our "new normal".

My husband, Dick, has been dead for over three years and I am still struggling. I swore to myself that I would NOT go to one of those Widows Grief Groups. I was not going to go into a room full of OLD ladies "whining" about losing their mates of 60 or 70 years. I could not imagine that a Widows Grief Group would have anything to offer or help me. I was only 61 years old when my 64 year old husband died and we had only been married 39 years. How could they possibly understand? Several months ago, after much coaxing from a couple of widow friends at the church, I finally went to a Women's Group at the local Hospice office. Much to my surprise, I was not the youngest woman there and you know what? I was not the only one there who was still struggling after three years. One thing that really surprised me is that out of the 14 ladies there, 5 of us lost our husbands on the same day, same year. Is that freaky or what? February 25, 2008 was a very bad day! Here's how the meetings have helped me: Caused me to look outside my grief and realize that my grief is my own, but it is not unique. All grief is terrible. I don't get a medal. All loneliness is overwhelming and totally encompassing. No one can make it better FOR me. I have to do the work. The work is not easy, but it has to be done if I am going to do anything worthwhile with the rest of my life. I DO have something to offer the world. I am not totally sure what that is, but it is something I have to find. Missing Dick is easier to deal with if it is shared with other women/men who understand and miss their other half. It's OK to cry. I looked around and I am not the ugliest person on the planet when I cry. There are actually people who look worse then I do! I could go on and on. If you have been hesitating to go to a group for support or have been to one and not had a great experience, don't give up. Find a group and go and participate. Generally there is laughter mixed with tears and I sure feel better when I leave. God Bless! Anne

We have just received news that our beloved Uncle John has had a stroke from which recovery is highly unlikely. Pneumonia is starting so our Aunt and the family have had to made the extremely difficult decision not to continues treatment. It is so sad and makes my stomach hurt. Uncle John is our only remaining uncle. He is my Father-in-laws brother and a wonderful man. It is just sad. Uncle John has lived a long, productive, loving life. He is almost 90, but it is still hurtful. He was my husband's favorite uncle and has been so supportive and patient with me as I morn and try to find my way after Dick's death. Just going to be sad today, dwell on his gentle spirit and pray for comfort for the family as they have to say good-bye. Anne

I am so very sorry for your terrible loss. In my belief, our dogs are the embodiment of unconditional love. They love us regardless and always. I believe they know we love them and would never do anything to purposefully harm them. My two dogs are rescues and have been able to put aside what happened to them and love and trust again. Your Poochie loved you and knew you loved him. Accidents happen. When those bad thoughts come to your mind, remember the times you love him, cared for him and were so happy together. God Bless you. Anne

My Mother, Margaret Anne, died over 36 years ago and hardly a day goes by that I don't think of her and miss her. She was so excited when we adopted her first grandchild and was wild about him. She died the day after his second birthday and was only 49 years old, I was only 24. We missed having a Mom and Grandmother. There are still things I would love to ask her, things I don't remember from when I was a kid, things I would love advise about, the ability to tell her something her grandson has done, share a joke and a good laugh, another lesson on how to make a flaky pie crust, and the ability to tell her I loved her. Sometimes, I feel I never got the chance to apologized enough for being a snotty teenager and so disrespectful. Sometimes I think I didn't have an example of how to age, how to be a strong women, how to love unconditionally, how to grow older, how to deal with all the stuff that has happened since her death. My father was a pilot in the Air Force and gone from home quite a bit. The constant in our lives growing up was our Mother. She was always there with discipline, encouragement, stability, faith, unconditional love, joy, so much humor and love of life. When I see children being so mean and hateful to their mothers, it just breaks my heart. I would take that mom and not have to live with the emptiness of being without my mom. I am 64 years old and still would love to have a hug from Mom. God Bless you Mom and I Love You! Anne

I will tell you what my physician told me. After 5 plus years of caregiving, the last 9 months which were spent with Dick in intensive care trying to regain strength, etc., you should expect to be mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted. I though he was crazy when he told me to expect to feel that way for at least a year to 18 months. His advise was to rest. To do nothing, cry and vent. To be gently with myself. I was fortunate because I did not have to go out and find a job to support myself. I don't know what I would have done if I had to do that. My doctor told me to expect to be exhausted, he suggested that I go for a walk if I feel like it, go sit outside, stay in bed or just do nothing. Can you sleep? I could not. Taking medication for depression helped a little bit, sleeping medication did not. When I could finally get to sleep, I was lucky in that everyone left me alone and let me sleep, even if it was sleeping most of the day, resulting in being up most of the night. The best thing I can tell you is that it's grief. It sucks. It hurts like hell. It's exhausting. True to my doctors words, my exhaustion lasted for about 18 months. It's been 3 years now and I am finally starting to feel a bit more like my old self. Be gentle with yourself. Anne

My best friend dropped everything and came from Texas to Kansas. She was just there. She sat and cried with me. She got up in the middle of the night to sit and cry with me. She kept people from overwhelming me with "He's in a better place. (How does he know? I'm not there to tell him he's in a better place?) "Now he is happy." (What?? You weren't around. What makes you think he was unhappy?) "He's smiling down at you from heaven." (Really? Tell me where you see his face with that smile? I would like to see it one more time.) You know that blah crap. Just being there meant the absolute most to me. Five years before my husband died, her husband died. I dropped everything and went to Texas to be with her. We always promised we would do that if anything happened when she moved from Kansas to Texas. It was so comforting to know the promise meant something to her. Anne

So very sorry for your loss. There is nothing to say other than I am sorry. Keep in touch with us. Rant and rave! Yell and scream! Know that we are here and will listen. Anne

It has been a little over three years since I woke up on a Monday morning to find my beloved husband dead. It had been a very long 5 years with his health declining, a double lung transplant with eight months in the hospital 500 miles away from home, family and friends. I had finally been able to take him out of the hospital to an apartment where we could continue his recovery with some privacy. He finally was appearing to be gaining strength and improving. We were actually daring to begin thinking about a time when we could actually go home; only to wake up and he was dead. I don't think any of us suffer more than others, it's just our suffering and it is individually terrible and so very hard to deal with. I just can't believe you are so young and have had to do this twice. I was 59 when Dick died and am now 64. We both have a lot of life left to learn to live. I totally agree with your grief counselor that the second year is worse, anyway it was for me. The first year, I was just in a fog, stupor, whatever. I was totally numb, physically and mentally exhausted, and my brain was so very vague and not firing on all cylinders. In my second year, the numbness was gone and the true reality of what had happened to my life was so real. It didn't seem like I had any buffer to protect me from the fact that Dick was not going to walk through the door. Now I had no choice but to deal with what was left of my life. I was totally terrified and felt more alone than I did the first year. Now that I am in year three, I can say that it does get better. It still hurts and I have accepted the fact that I will always carry with me some pain and loneliness. Some days will be harder than others. My grief counselor asked me several months ago to think about how lonely I would be if Dick and I had not have a wonderful marriage, loved each other intensely and were not totally committed to each other and making a great life for each other. Have been pondering those questions quite a bit. When I sit and think about the questions, somehow my mind goes to specific times when we were together and were so happy. Those memories are a blessing and seem to fill my mind more than the loss. I am thankful for that! I am blessed to live with my adult son and we are able to share. It is good for each of us. I am sorry that you are without the comfort of family close. Finally, I have started volunteering a bit. I am blessed in that I did not immediately have to get out and find a job after I got back home after Dick's death. (The company where I worked for over 14 years, hired a new president and he "restructured" after Dick and I had to go to the transplant center. My job was eliminated. I carried our health insurance. I was informed 3 days before Christmas with Dick on life support that effective the first of the year, I was unemployed, regardless of the fact that I had been working via internet, telephone, etc. What a great Christmas present!) The whole world of work, holds no appeal to me anymore. I am finding that being able to do work that I chose and being able to decide if and when I go do things has been helpful for me. I am also discovering that I am learning to enjoy time for myself. It's been years, and years since I gave any thought about what I might like to do for me. It's an interesting time of discovery. Hang in there and know that we are always here to listen. Anne

I generally wallow in it to the point of stupidity, they get the dogs and go out in the yard and watch them run around. They seem to know I'm a mess and seem to go out of their way to be "cute"! If that doesn't work, I pick up the phone and call my best friend and "dump" on her. She understands. She lost her husband about 5 years before I lost mine, so we trade off! Anne

Chai, I totally understand a bit of what you are feeling. As care providers and now survivors, we have not had much choice but to take are of others and give much thought about ourselves as individuals. Before Dick's health began to fail rather rapidly, our parents health failed. First his mother who struggled with diabetics, then died of a sudden, unexpected heart attack. His father was diagnosed with Alzheimers and failed very rapidly. Finally my father who died of a brain tumor. As Dick's health was going down hill, I had no choice but to step up and not only take over the "running of our household and related issues", but also be his advocate with doctors, other medical people and issues, but also similar issues related to our parents and his adult, mentally handicapped brother. I also continued to work full time as we were covered by health insurance through my employment and the income was necessary. When I look back, I now realize just how exhausted, mentally and physically, I had become. As my grief counselor pointed out, over ten years of that will take a toll. I have spent over two years since Dick's death trying to figure out just what in the world I am going to do with ME??? I don't know what I'm interested in, I don't know what I want most of the time. I decide I'll go to an event, then want to walk right out the back door. Things that I used to enjoy doing, I now realize I enjoyed doing with Dick. Now I just miss him. I resent having to make all the decisions by myself with no one to discuss them with. I amaze myself at how indecisive I am. How in the world did I take care of Dick? How did I make those decisions when he was on life support? Why do I now freak out if I need a plumber or the car makes a strange noise??? And on and on. It makes me crazy when I am in a group and hear couples complain about each other, or pick on each other, or just be down right rude to each other. I want to scream at them, "You will be so very sorry then he/she is not around any more." My lack of patience really surprises me. Before Dick's death, I did lots of things that I did not want to do. I did things because it made other people happy; I did not have the nerve to tell people no or I felt it was expected of me. About 6 months ago, I started doing a bit of volunteering. I have stuck to my mantra "I will only do what I want to do and if I find I'm not enjoying myself, I'm outta here, because I've earned that right!!!" I am learning to Just Say No and am learning to enjoy time just spent alone with myself. I have never been able to do that well and am discovering that I enjoy me. This is just rambling, but I do want you to know that you are not alone. I'm right there with you. Today just happens to be a pretty good day for me, who know how I will feel tomorrow. Hang in there! Anne

So, I have survived Easter! Yippee! I forgot in my long list of hard dates that June 27th is our son's birthday. He will be 39 years old this year. He is really working on the chronic depression that haunts him daily. His dad would be so supportive. I try, but it's not the same. Richard gets impatient with me. It's been three years and I think I am dealing pretty well. However, no one can make me like it! Anne

Teny, Thank you for sharing your dream. What great imagery! My husband died three years ago and that lion still comes roaring at my front door. I too now realize it will not devour me and will just roar for a while and go away. My grief does not frighten me as much any more, I know I will survive. I too find pleasure in little things and memories of my husband and the life we shared together. I think your English is just fine! Thank you for sharing and giving me something reassuring to think about. Anne

Happy Easter, Lord, I hate this time of year. It's just one important date after another I have to get through without Dick. April 15thwas my birthday, it sucked!!! He always made it such a sweet day. Then we have Holy Week topped off with Easter. This year our son, Richard, played a role in our church's presentation of the Living Last Supper. Richard portrayed James. He did such a great job. His dad would have been so proud. I was just overwhelmed!!! Lots, and lots of blinking so I wouldn't just stream tears. Easter Sunday is about over and I am so very happy. It's been another long lonely day. Our granddaughter is graduating from high school the middle of May. She will be the valedictorian. They were so very close and he would be beyond proud of her. It hurts to even She called last week to tell me that she just misses her Granddad and wanted me to know that. It's just hard and doesn't seem fair! Now we get to look forward to Mother's Day followed quickly by our wedding anniversary. On Mother's Day, we always took a long drive and enjoyed the countryside green with Spring. Our anniversary meant so much to us, because we just loved each other. Hate It!!! April, May and June are no big thrill for me. This too will pass, and I know I will survive, but no one can make we like it! So There! Anne

Aren't our pets interesting? Dick and I had two dogs, both rescues. One is a All American Mutt, Champion and the other is a Jack Russell Terrier, H.R.H. Miss Sophie Queen of the Universe. (He named her! because of her typically terrier attitude) When I came home after 9 months without Dick, both dogs grieved. Honestly, they did. When I went and picked them up from the saintly people who kept both of them in their home for the nine months, and brought them back to the house, they ran immediately to his chair, only to find it empty. Then they both ran back to me, sat and looked at me like I had done something terrible with their Dad. For about a month, every time I left the house and returned, they did the same thing...ran to his chair, ran back to me, sat and gave me the "stink eye". At night, when I could finally force myself to go to bed, they would run all over the house looking for their Dad. It was just so darn sad. Eventually, they settled down and life went on. This is interesting! My brother sent me some DVD's he made from some family gatherings he had videoed. Dick, as well as the rest of the family, was on the videos. When they first heard Dick's voice, both of the dogs came racing into the room and ran right to the TV with tails wagging. I think they thought their Dad had returned. The three of us just stood there and I cried. It was just do darn sad, even after three years. Don't know what I would do without my dogs. Anne