AnnC

That is what this site is for. We have all been there. We have taken and taken, and later, much later, we are able to give back.

There is little that is positive about grief. But I do think it teaches not only how precious life is, but also we learn deep compassion for the pain and heartbreak of others. There is no need to feel guilty about asking for support, it is actually a comfort to me to offer support to others. I feel I am honoring my husband, my father, my brother, who have all passed, by offering what comfort and support I can to others who have also lost their dear ones.

No need to apologise, we understand. Up and down times, difficulty in concentrating, not being able to retain information, is normal in grief. Eventually, it does get better, even though you may not be able to imagine that now. It really does. You never forget, but you adjust to your changed life. Your life changes, you change, and you build a new normal over time. It's not what we want to do, but it is what we have to do. And we are here on this site to listen when you need us.

I am so sorry.

Is it possible she just can't face loving anyone again (right now) because she fears feeling the agony again if another loved one dies?

My heart just goes out to you.

Crying is not fun. But it is healing. I get this empty feeling inside, then pain. I try not to fight it, and then the crying (sobbing, more like, sometimes wailing) comes. If I let it run its course, it eventually stops. Then I kind of feel like there was actually a blockage, or more like a buildup of emotion inside and the crying has moved it along. Another buildup will come, but crying keeps things moving.

I am of two minds right now -- I am heartbroken at the death of my brother, and crying every day, and I don't feel like I'll ever feel any better. But I remember I felt the same when my husband died. And, eventually, I DID feel better, or at least felt bad less often and less intensely. So even though it doesn't feel like it now, I know eventually it will be that way for me about my brother, too.

Keep crying, it's hard but it really does move the healing along.

Wow -- what a powerful story of your experience with your mother. I have heard that they stay longer than they might if they are worried about family members. What a gift you gave her, to let her go. I was so affected when you said she told you, Thank you, thank you, thank you. Amazing.

I dont know how anyone moves forward from the loss of a loved one. I know they do it everyday but we've been fortunate until now to never be faced with such a tragic loss. My heart is broken for myself and all those that loved him. I feel like I may never stop crying.

I am so sorry, it's so shocking a sudden loss to a car accident. I lost my brother that way Aug. 24th. They're just gone and we expect them to call or come over any day, and then the awful realization that they never will again. My heart goes out to you. Cry as much and as long as you need to -- I have had other losses, and although this one feels like it will never feel better, I know from experience that eventually, the pain will soften, though you never forget. I don't know about you but I have a motion picture of the crash running over and over in my head. It's my brain trying to process the information. It hurts so much. But crying is how we process the pain. Don't be afraid to cry.

Thank you. You're right, it's crisis time. I am so sorry that you lost both your brother and sister. I know what you mean, we are mostly focused on my mother and my niece (my brother's daughter) and so my sisters and I spend a lot of time taking care of them instead of ourselves. I had no idea there was so much to do when someone dies suddenly. My father died six years ago after 10 months of treatment for stage 4 cancer. That was very hard, but we knew he was terminal. To have dinner with my brother where we were talking and laughing and having a great time and then a few days later he was suddenly dead on the freeway -- I can't really wrap my mind around it. Yesterday I made up this whole fantasy about how maybe he was carjacked and injured, and the carjacker took his ID and car and it was the carjacker who was killed and maybe my brother would show up when he recovered. I had it all figured out. But of course it was only fantasy. I guess it's part of denial or bargaining or something. I just think about how awful it is that I'll never see him again.

I had hoped for some sharing or something from others...feeling very alone and isolated. Can you offer any resources for grief support groups?

I lost my brother in a car accident last Friday. The police don't know exactly what happened bit he was driving on a freeway and his car veered to the right off the road and hit a heavy pillar at 60 mph. He died on impact, basically crushed. A witness pulled him out of the car and attempted CPR, but he was already gone. The car then caught fire. The police went to my sister's and she called me. I had to break it to my 84 year old mother. And we had to get word to his teen-aged daughter who lives with her mother in another state. He was 44. I just cry and cry. And I know from years ago when I used to post here after the death of my ex-husband that I'm probably still in shock and won't fully feel it for a few more months. I just keep thinking I won't answer the phone and hear his "Hey! " ever again. He won't walk his daughter down the aisle or see his grandchildren. He would have made a fabulous grandpa. He was the baby, the rest of us (my sisters and I) are in our 50's and survived cancer, diabetes and quadruple bypass surgery, and then my little brother who was fit and healthy dies like this. It's so cruel.

Oh, yes, I firmly believe in after death communication.

Two weeks ago, my sister had her 50th birthday. Her husband arranged a surprise birthday party. We were all standing in the room waiting to yell "Surprise!" We were all quiet, holding our breaths as we waited for her to arrive. On the wall opposite, there was a huge mirror. I glanced in the mirror, and I kid you not, I clearly saw my father standing there. Just for a second, then he was gone. He died in Dec. 2006 -- but he would not have missed his youngest daughter's birthday party!

I have dreams, too, where my ex-husband, who died in June 2004, comes and spends time with me, and answers my questions. These dreams are very real.

I know that those we love are never truly gone, but stay around us and watch out for us.

Ann

I am so sorry to hear of your loss. My father died 2 1/2 years ago of esophageal cancer, and I know it is a rough thing to go through. The doctors decided that he was too frail to go through the surgery, but he did go through the chemotherapy and radiation, which was awful, and I'm not sure if it was the cancer or the treatment that got him. He died under hospice care.

This is a tough journey, the journey of grief, and it's not much supported by our culture. People around us too often seem to think we should just "get over it", but you do not just get over love, you always remember.

Keep posting, we are here for you always, and we are walking the same journey, just at different places along the path.

Ann

I think guilt is in many ways the most painful part of grief.

My ex-husband and I were very close phone friends during his illness. We had divorced 20 years earlier because he was gay, but we remained good friends, and became especially close when he was ill. We lived across the country from each other. I told him I wanted to come visit him, but he said he didn't want me to spend the money and didn't want me to see him looking sick, and once he got the transplant and was recovering, he would like me to visit. I accepted this, because I didn't have a lot of money, and also I had gained weight since I had last seen him and didn't want him to see me like that.

Then a couple of months went by when I didn't call him. I wasn't feeling well (had to have a hysterectomy shortly after that in fact), and was very busy at work, and whenever I would think of calling him, it was too late becuase of the time difference between east and west coasts. I kept thinking, I need to call him.

Then I got the call -- he had died waiting for the transplant. I was SO devastated! Why did I think I couldn't scrape together the money to go see him one last time! Why did I think it mattered that I had gained weight? Such stupid reasons! Now I would never have the chance to see him again! It was horrible. I did go to his funeral, beating myself up all the way since I HAD scraped together money to go to his funeral but I wished that instead I had gone to see him while he was still alive.

Anyway, it was awful, and I beat myself up for a long long time. And I was also so upset that I hadn't called him the last few months. Did he think I didn't care anymore? Did he feel abandoned?

Then, two plus years later, my father died. I was with him every day while he was put into hospice. I had gone home for Thanksgiving, and he had to go to the ER that night, and his cancer had recurred. The doctor said he would have a few more weeks. I had already been gone from work for two weeks longer than planned, so when we had my dad all settled and my other out of state sister came, I went home. Four days later, my brother called me, and my father had died with the whole family there -- except me.

The guilt still bothers me -- I cried writing that sentence. I tell myself, there was no way to know when they would die. You can't plan every single day around worrying that your loved one might die. Yet, we blame ourselves for things we can't change and couldn't foresee.

I just have to keep telling myself, we do the best we can, and if we had known how to do better, we would have, because we loved them so much we would have done anything for them. You know that if you had had any clue that your father would not be able to make another trip to Las Vegas, you would have dropped everything to go with him when he could. But you didn't know.

Also, I don't know anyone who has not felt guilty when a loved one died, even my mother who cared devotedly for my father every minute of every day through his cancer, then felt guilty because she was down the hall rather than right at his bedside when he took his last breath. What more could she have done? But guilt is part of grief. Remember -- we can't control when someone dies. That, and the knowledge of when they will die, is out of our hands.

Hugs to you.

Ann

Hi All,

It is going to be the fifth aniversary of my father's death and I find it ever confusing right now... I should find the day difficult because my mom's fifth anniversary this year was very difficult but with my dad it is so very different and so weird because I do not have the same feelings... Shelley

I was kind of looking for a post like yours, because in June I just passed the fifth anniversary of my ex-husband's death, and I am feeling weepy and depressed again. I wanted to know if others are still feeling the pain so many years later. Friends and family just dismiss my "moods", thinking I should have been "over this" a long time ago.

It's so hard.

Ann

I'm so sorry over the loss of your mom. Since she passed in November, it's barely 5 months, and that's not very long when it comes to grief. People handle it differently. I have noticed that some men remarry quickly, due to loneliness and not knowing how to grieve. My grandfather adored my grandmother and they were married for 48 years, but my grandfather remarried 3 months after she died. It's just the way some people cope, I guess.

But the loss of a parent can be very hard, and especially when the relationship is very close. I lost my dad almost 2 1/2 years ago, but I still feel it sometimes.

Don't let it get to you that people say "Get over it". As you will read on this website, you don't get over the loss, you learn to live with it, and it takes as long as it takes. If you are worried about how you are grieving, a grief counselor or group can be very very helpful, because it reassures you that everyone deals with grief in their own way, and your way is just as "normal" as anyone else's. And it helps a lot to talk about it.

It helps to post here also, and you can do that 24/7.

Ann

I wrestled with this, also. I wanted to visit my ex-husband when he was ill, but he talked me out of it. He didn't want me to see him sick, and he didnt' want me to spend a lot of money going to visit him. But after he died, I was so upset and wished and wished that I had visited him no matter what he said, and that I had called him more often, that I had done so many things.

It helped me to read on this website, and also to hear from people in my grief group, that guilt is pretty much universal after someone dies. There were people who had not talked to the person in years -- and there were people who were there when their loved one died, and they all felt guilty because they thought they didn't spend enough time with them. No matter what amount of time they spent, they ALL felt guilty. It seems to just be part of grief, and the knowledge that now you can't spend time with them anymore, so all your regrets about time missed come back to you.

In reality, in most cases we did not know how serious it was, or we had to take care of children, or business, or otherwise keep our lives going. Or the person really wanted us to go on with our lives. There are many reasons, and they are good reasons. And if doctors were telling you he was all right, which was the case with my ex-husband also, then how would you know any different?

We are not God, we don't know when someone's time will come. We do the best we can. Certainly, if I had known my ex was actually dying, I would have gone to be with him. But I didn't know, so I had to forgive myself for not being there since I didn't really have the money to go and I didn't know he was dying. And I didn't have any leave time, and couldn't afford to give up my job or go on leave without pay.

And I agree that your dad would likely not have wanted you to quit school.

I think we all struggle with guilt, but it does get better over time as you realize you did the best you could at the time.

Ann

Ann - - I can only say that I am glad your supervisor has retired.

Kathy

Me too!

A year later, before my supervisor retired, my great aunt passed away. She lived only about 30 miles from me, so my brother and I decided to go to her funeral and pay our respects. I told my supervisor about it, since it was a work day. She said, "Well, we'll see how the work goes." This time I knew what to say -- I said, "No, we won't. My great aunt died, and I AM GOING to her funeral."

She said nothing after that! And I went to the funeral. There have to be priorities in life!

Ann

I have had that experience of other people complaining that I'm not myself at work.

I will never forget that my supervisor was upset that I wanted to go to my ex-husband's funeral on the other side of the country. She pointed out that I couldn't use bereavement time because he wasn't my husband any more. I said, then I will use vacation. She pointed out triumphantly that I didn't have enough left to use. I said, Fine, I will take leave without pay. Fortunately, our department head took me aside and said I should go, and when I came back we could work out a way for me to make up the time.

When I came back, I had to have a doctor's appointment for some symptoms I had, anemia and some other stuff. Turns out I had uterine cancer. So here I was, only a month after his death, and I had cancer. And what does my supervisor say to me? I'll never forget it: "You should get back to work now, so that you don't leave us any more in the lurch than you are already doing." Then, on my last day of work the day before my surgery, when I was scared to death, she made a crack about my "lack of responsibility."

What I wanted to say was, Well I'm sorry if the death of someone I love, and my cancer are inconveniencing you, but suck it up! Probably fortunately, I couldn't even speak. Again, our department head told me it would be okay, and arranged for shared leave so that I wouldn't have to be without any pay during my 8 weeks of recovery.

I am approaching my five years of being cancer-free, and my supervisor retired last year. But I find I can never really forgive her for her insensitivity when I was going through the worst summer of my life.

Ann

I totally agree. My ex-husband left his estate to his best friends, a lesbian couple who took care of him when he was sick and when he died. I got to know them at his funeral, and they had his ashes. He did not specify what to do with his ashes, but they wanted to sprinkle them around a tree he and they had dedicated when my ex's partner died many years ago -- his partner's family took the body and cut my ex out of all funeral plans, so my ex's chosen family and he dedicated a tree. Bless them, his friends asked me (though they were not obligated to include me at all) if that would be okay with me, and I thought it was lovely. They said they would contact me when they had the scattering so I could attend, which was very thoughtful. About a year or so passed, and I tentatively asked if they had set a date. They said no, so I backed off. Then two more years went by, and I asked again.

Then his friend broke down and told me they just couldn't do it. They had thought of him as a brother (he had no family left, having been the only child of older parents who were both gone, and no aunts, uncles or cousins either, and he and I had had no children while we were married.) They didn't want to scatter his ashes or put them in a mausoleum or the ground. They still had them in their house.

I thought about this, and then thought, So what harm can there be in this? I know he did not care what happened to his ashes, he believed his soul would move on with no need of them. But he would want his friends to be comforted. If keeping his ashes comforts them, I have no problem with it. So I told them that. After all, there are families who keep ashes in an urn on the mantle for years, maybe forever. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that, if you find it a comfort.

They offered me part of the ashes, but my upbringing, like my ex's, never put any emphasis on the remains. And I found that I liked to think of him there, in his best friends' house.

There's no rush to scatter or inter ashes -- in fact, you never have to do it. Yes, if there was a promise to scatter them at a specific place, then you would want to keep that promise, but again, no rush. I can't imagine that your husband or wife wouldn't want to spend more time with you before being scattered -- how can that be a bad thing? I mean, in my belief, their spirit will always be with you no matter where the ashes are, but it's not easy letting go of the physical body, so give yourself a break and let yourself be comforted by the presence of the ashes. It's no one's business but yours.

Ann

Just wanted to add mine. I am not a widow. In losing my ex-husband, though, I was devastated. Shattered. It was mind-blowing. All I can say is that doesn't mean that I understand being widowed, but it must be worse than losing my ex, whom I loved but hadn't seen in years, just talked on the phone and emailed. And any grief that is more painful than what I have been going through is painful, indeed, beyond what I can imagine.

But when my dad died, I was sad but nowhere near what I felt when my ex died. Just different. Not so complicated as mourning not only a contemporary I'd been married to but also reliving the grief that we couldn't stay married. With my dad, he had a full life, he was suffering so his death was a release from pain, and we miss our parents but we know it's in the course of life that they usually die before we do. Nevertheless, I know people who consider a parent their best friend and they call every day, and certainly that is a devastating loss as well. As for pets, my cat died not long after my dad, and while I would certainly mourn for my cat, I found that it was harder just because I had had several deaths in a row, and it was one more adding to the grief. When another of my cats became sick, I spent $1500 on the vet to save him, because I couldn't stand yet another death. I realized that of all the deaths (in a three year period, I lost my ex, my dad, my great-aunt, my uncle, two close friends and my cat) that I couldn't prevent, at least I had the chance to save my other cat, and I took it.

It does depend on you, your situation, your relationship with the person you have lost. But I would never say I understand what it's like to be widowed, or to lose a child, because I have not had those experiences. But because of the long and incredibly painful grieving of the past five years over my ex-husband, I would never say to anyone who lost a spouse or child (or anyone, really) that they "should be over it" ever!

My mother takes the cake for insensitive responses. When my ex died, she said, "Well, that's too bad dear, but with his lifestyle (my ex was gay), what can you expect?" I was speechless.

One great piece of advice I heard was from an expert on grief and loss. He said, "When you are talking to a bereaved person, don't say anything that starts with, "At least..."

Ann

Boo, you are very wise to give yourself that time to just be. Even now, five years out, I sometimes need a day like that, especially around that anniversary or his birthday. His best friend always calls me on the anniversary of his death to see if I am all right. She's wonderful to me.

I remember going to visit my sister right after he died and I could not complete a sentence. I talked constantly but never finished a sentence. Good thing she knows me well enough to translate when necessary.

I was diagnosed with cancer shortly after he died and had to have a hysterectomy two months after. I was glad, thinking maybe I wouldn't wake up from it and would join him. But of course it was routine and I recovered nicely. In a way, though, it was a blessing because it gave me eight weeks paid time off work to just lie on the couch and let myself be a vegetable. I needed it far more for the grief than for the surgery. But it worked out, since I had been spending all my work time in the bathroom crying, so was probably on the road to being fired -- that 8 week leave probably saved my job!

My grief counselor says that about 5-7 months or so is the classic time that you feel the worst, because it is about then that the shock wears off and it really hits you. Then, it starts to slowly get better -- very slowly, it's hard to measure, but it does slowly get better as your mind accustoms itself to the loss and how to live again.

We're here for you 24/7, talking, writing, and crying were my best healing tools, so let yourself do that as much as you need.

Ann

I can't believe it has already been three years, I remember when you were posting on here and it had been only a few months and how much you have grown since then. And you have been of such help and comfort to so many grieving people on this board -- I am certain your wife sees this and sees you with Carson and is so proud.

Ann

Boo, you wrote incredibly EXACTLY what it is like, and takes me back to when my ex-husband died and I wish I could have sat by his bed in the hospital like you did, only he was on the other side of the country and no one told me he was in the hospital.

And back to my Dad who died a little more than two years ago, and taking him to the hospital. And I know my mom went through this too and is still going through it.

It helps to know we all feel these things. I felt so guilty I was not there for my ex, even though we were exes we were such close friends -- it helps me to know that somehow guilt is part of grief even if you were there all the time.

Bless you for posting your blog, not only will it help those who are grieving, but I hope everyone who knows someone who is grieving will read it because your friends and family knew so well how to help and support you, and you them.

Ann

It's very normal to have those what-if's and to wonder about the details of the person's passing -- some people do that, and some don't, but it's not morbid. I did that when my ex-husband died. I drove his friends and boyfriend nuts with my need to know everything that happened, what his symptoms were, what he said in his last week, last month of life. I lived on the opposite coast and hadn't talked to him for a month or so before his illness suddenly took a bad turn and he died unexpectedly. I needed to know everything. I'm sure his friends thought I was morbid.

But it eventually did comfort me, because after a long time (it's been almost 5 years), the what if's were mostly answered -- no one could have saved him, and everything possible was done for him. Or if it wasn't, it can't be changed now, and over the years, I have had to learn to adjust to that fact and incorporate his loss into my life. But it takes a long time and a lot of emotion and thinking before you get to that point, and it is a slow progress. All I can say is, I understand that feeling of almost being obsessed to know what happened to him, all the details, and for some people, it's part of the process.

To get to that "acceptance" (some prefer to call it "adjustment" instead), you have to kind of take it on faith. As you feel the grief, it is very difficult and you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel. But it is there -- it just takes lots of time and tears to get there, and I know that right now, you can't even imagine ever getting there. That's why I say it's a leap of faith -- just keep on crying, let yourself grieve. That is the path to healing. And healing doesn't mean you will be back to where you were before he died -- it means remembering him and honoring the memories and still being able to live your life and find meaning in it.

Don't let other people tell you how long or how much to grieve. That is your own process, and it takes as long as it takes. We have all lost someone we loved -- do you ever get over love? Of course not. You learn eventually to adjust to grief, to live with the loss. I know it's nearly impossible to imagine getting there, but you will, in your own time.

I really encourage finding a grief group to talk to. That face to face talking with someone who understands is a huge help in getting through grief.

Ann

That's the great thing about this site and about grief groups. It actually is comforting to read or hear other people's stories. I was amazed when I joined a grief group, that I was comfortable with a room full of crying people. I'd been raised not to show emotion. But I guess it was because then I had permission to cry too, and I didn't feel that it was wrong, all 10 of us were crying! As the grief counselor told us, the group cannot make the pain go away, but we all walk beside each other while we are making this journey. You know you're not alone, that's the key. So the posts we read here are NOT depressing, they are comforting. When I read of the deep pain of someone else, I feel for them, because I have felt that, I am feeling it, so there is a connection, and a comfort in knowing this is part of life -- that I have not been singled out for pain, if that makes sense. That I didn't do anything to deserve this pain -- none of us did, it is part of being human and giving our hearts in love.

Those who are around us but don't understand the pain we are suffering, may tell us we're depressing when we tell our stories, which is why a grief group and/or a website like this is so precious, because we can tell our story to those who do understand. And my grief counselor said that part of healing is telling your story over and over until you feel it has been told. Thank heavens for this site and the grief group I attended at first, because in the first year I was telling our story to everyone, and I felt the checkers at the supermarket were ducking when they saw me coming! It helped me to tell my story as often as I needed to tell it in a setting that is full of people who can stand to hear/read it, because they too know the pain I am feeling.

So don't hold back -- tell your story. Telling your own story is healing, and hearing the stories of other people who understand loss is also healing. That's what we're all here for.

Ann

Kath,

It's so hateful that they have to be "sick enough" to be on the list. I do understand the reason, there are not enough donors, but I also have this suspicion that my ex-husband, Don, let himself go a little too long untreated that last time in order to get sicker so they would give him a transplant. When friends would tell him they were praying for him, he would say, "Pray for me to get sicker so they'll put me on the list."

I will tell you that I understand not wanting to see him go through more misery. When Don had that next to last hospitalization where they couldn't clean out or replace his shunt, he said that he wanted a DNR order if for some reason he couldn't get the transplant. He wanted to live, he said, he wasn't giving up and he would keep fighting. But if there was to be no transplant, no light at the end of the tunnel of exhaustion and restrictions, and medications and multiple comas and hospitalizations, then he was done. He said he loved life, but he wasn't afraid of death, and if his time had come, he was at peace with that, and with what came next. (We both believed in the afterlife.)

How awful that you had to deal with the stigma. I have run into that also. First, when I tell anyone that my ex-husband, who was gay, has died, they assume it was AIDS. Then when you say liver disease, they assume he was an alcoholic (he almost never drank, maybe one glass of wine every two months!) He caught Hepatitis B, and that caused the cirrhosis. He did probably get the Hep B from his partner, who sadly died many years ago of an opportunistic infection due to being HIV positive.

But it shouldn't matter WHY people are sick -- my great grandmother died of cirrhosis of the liver, and she didn't drink, didn't have hepatitis, and didn't have gay sex! People get sick for many reasons, and the cause doesn't matter.

Group hug, definitely!

Ann

I have to chime in here to what Deb said. One of the hardest things I'm learning is not to compare myself to anyone else. Although we share this hard road, it forks at different times for all of us, and all of us move at a different pace. I have to keep telling myself that. At 8 1/2 months, my big goal is figuring out how to use my grill this summer! The peace and acceptance that Ann talks about still eludes me,

And remember, I don't have that peace and acceptance ALL the time, but it's there at least part of the time. And you're only at 8 1/2 months, and I'm almost at five years, so it makes a big difference.

Add to that the fact that my ex and I were close, but not married anymore, so we didn't have that day to day interaction. I would think that would make a difference in the length of adjustment as well.

It takes as long as it takes.

Ann