AnnC

A death of a beloved cat is not small. I remember in my grief group there was a man who was a retired police officer. He was divorced. He had lost partners who were killed in the line of duty, and also had lost some family members. He reacted as he had been trained, he was strong and stoic and did not "give in" to grief. Then his cat died. That was what broke down his denial -- he said that was so devastating that he finally sought out grief counseling, which then allowed him to deal with all his losses. He was in our group being trained as a grief counselor, and he never, never belittles a pet death as small or unimportant. Ann

I actually love your dream. I think it means your father is concerned about you, but letting you know through your dream that he is there to take care of Yiany for you. I do believe they visit us in our dreams. Ann

My grief counselor gave us pictures of ducks that she gives grieving children. The duck sits apparently peacefully on the surface of the water and looks calm, but underneath is paddling frantically just to stay in one place. She says grief is like that, we may look fine and say we are fine, but underneath we are all frantically paddling just to stay afloat. Ann

Oh, Marty, that is so beautiful! I am going to save that! It is so helpful! Ann

For the first few weeks after my exhusband died, I only slept about an hour a night. But slowly it got better and I started sleeping more. But my mother didn't sleep for over a year after my dad died, and she didn't sleep much during his illness either. She would wake up at 2:00 am and then couldn't get back to sleep, with memories of my dad's illness and death running through her mind, plus all the things she has to take care of now that he used to take care of. She finally told her doctor, who prescribed a very mild sedative, and that really helped her a lot. So maybe look into that -- sleep disorders are very common in grief. Ann

I do think it's very individual. When my ex-husband died, I was devastated. He was cremated, which was fine with me, because he had told me while we were married that's what he wanted. But I wasn't there when he died. I was told by his friends that he looked pretty bad when he died. I wished I had visited him while he was still alive and ill, though he didn't look very ill most of the time. But I couldn't afford to go across the country, so we just talked on the phone for hours for comfort while he was ill. I did go to the funeral, and I visited his friends a couple of years later and held the container of his ashes, which made me feel very weird, to think he was in there. Then I got this strong feeling like he was there in spirit, telling me it was okay because he wasn't in that box, his spirit was free. When my dad died, my sister and brother were with him. He was taken to a funeral home for the cremation, and it was the law that someone had to identify the body before the cremation to make sure it wasn't a mistake. So I went with my mother to see the body. I had never really seen a dead body before (except on TV), so it was weird. He looked okay, but not asleep -- he was too quiet, too still. I remembered my ex-husband said that when his mother died, he felt she was a mannikin made up to look like his mother. That seemed to describe it. But my mother seemed to relax when she saw him, and she said, "He's at peace now." I guess that must have been a comforting statement from her childhood, because I don't remember her ever reacting to anyone's death that way. But she nursed him through all the chemo and radiation of his cancer, and knew how he had suffered, so it must have been some relief to know that he was out of pain. They were married for 56 years. As for "closure" -- to me that is a meaningless term. When someone so close to us dies, our lives are never the same. We are always dealing with it to some extent. Does it help to see the body? I did not have as much anguish when my father died as when my ex-husband died, but I believe that's not just because I saw my father's body and not my ex's. There was a lot of other stuff -- you know you will lose your parents some day, and my father was 78. My ex was only 50. And my ex and I had only a couple of years before that been able to put the past behind us and become close friends, which we were both really happy about, and now I feel I was cheated out of the years we might have had that friendship. I wish all the time that we could have established that friendship earlier, instead of losing the 8 or 9 years we weren't speaking to each other. We couldn't be married because he was gay, but we could be friends, and I miss him. Given all that baggage, my grief counselor said I was suffering from both complicated grief and disenfranchised grief in relation to my ex (because in many ways I feel like his widow, but I am not perceived that way by anyone). It doesn't seem to me that my ex is any less gone because I didn't see his body. Ann

My ex-husband also died of liver disease. He had a shunt around his liver and lived like that for 19months. He was very gentle with me (we were still very close friends), but sometimes difficult with his friends. He picked arguments with them all over those months, and broke up with his boyfriend. My grief therapist says that people who are possibly terminal sometimes do that, because it's easier to say goodbye to people you are angry with. Also they may fear being a burden. I can relate to your concerns about the hospital. My ex's shunt began to fail, and they couldn't replace it or clean it out because the cirrhosis had spread so far. He kept calling his doctor to be reassessed for the transplant list, and his doctor kept telling him not to worry about it. Then my ex started to have the fuzzy-brain (hepatic encephalitis) that you can get with liver failure, and was hospitalized and got a staph infection. He had that fluid buildup too. While they were clearing that up, a liver became available. He was transferred to the hospital that had the transplant unit. But they were trying to stabilize him (they said), and he was in ICU for several days, and then his kidneys failed, and they took him off the transplant list, and he passed away. It's so hard to know for sure what really happened -- he was within a day or so of the transplant, so if they had reassessed him earlier, likely he would have gotten the transplant -- on the other hand, patients with his type of Hepatitis B are not always good transplant patients, so who knows. You can drive yourself crazy wondering. Ann

I posted this on another part of this site, but I found myself alone for Thanksgiving. My mother basically forgot about me. She has been widowed not quite two years, so I do feel that whatever she does to get through it is fine, but she invited herself to my sister's house in another state, and invited my brother along to drive her, and basically told me she was sure I could find something to do here! Thanksgiving is hard -- my uncle collapsed at Thanksgiving in 1997, and died two weeks later; my ex-husband collapsed on Thanksgiving night in 2004 from the liver failure that killed him a year and a half later; my father collapsed Thanksgiving night in 2006 and died in hospice two weeks later; my cat got into the antifreeze and had to be put to sleep last Thanksgiving. And so although I thought I was fine being alone on that day, as it got closer I got more and more upset and stopped sleeping and couldn't figure out why?? Then I finally realized how many death anniversaries are associated with this holiday for some reason, and that it was REALLY affecting me. I did end up going to a friend's for the turkey dinner, which was nice, but I was upset again when my mother did not call me as she had said she would. In the end I just chalked it up to my mother's grief, but I intend to horn in on SOMEBODY's Thanksgiving next year to be sure I'm not alone. Ann

I know I had a lot of trouble with concentration and sleeping the first few months. I ate maybe one meal a day and slept maybe 2 or 3 hours, or maybe not at all. I couldn't accomplish anything, and spent a lot of the work day crying in the ladies room. My focus was terrible. I would get lost driving home, or would have to pull over because I was crying so hard I couldn't see. In my grief group, I found out these reactions are common during grief. I found that they improved slowly. Even now, 4 1/2 years after he died, I find that I am doing well, but occasionally, I will get to what I can only describe as another level of peace, and then I will suddenly feel a little more energy to deal with things. It is a very slow progression, and you may not notice until you look back and realize you are no longer crying every single day, and you finally cleaned the house, or went out with friends, or finished a project. But I cried for two years every single day, and I think the lack of energy and focus lasted at least that long. I mean, it got slowly better, but still affected me. And I realize I am still recovering -- but then, two years ago I lost my dad, so that grief also added into the mix, so that's probably why I still feel the effects of lack of energy and focus to accomplish things. I think it's very helpful to let yourself just grieve and not expect yourself to accomplish lots of tasks in the first couple of years after a major bereavement. Obviously there are things that just have to be done, but it helps to separate out the projects that really can wait and let them wait. A hundred years ago a widow or bereaved parent would wear black for two to four years and basically everyone knew to treat them kindly and let them grieve. A widow was not expected to be social for at least the first year. Now, our society expects us to bounce right back after the funeral, which is ridiculous. I often remind myself that it used to be normal to expect people to take years just to mourn. Ann

One month is a very short time. In fact, lots of people are in shock (and may not know it) for a few months, and don't feel the grief until later. That could be what is happening with your sister. It can take months or years to start to feel calmer about losing a parent. I lost my dad two years ago Dec. 7th. I thought I was fine now about it, but then my mother decided to go to my sister's house in another state for Thanksgiving and take my brother (mainly so he could driver her.) She did not invite me. I thought I was okay with that, but as the day approached, I found myself more and more upset, and realized I was SO angry to be left out! I finally remembered my grief counselor had said that the time of year can remind you, and you may not consciously realize what is happening, but you get upset, and it's because the anniversary is coming up. My dad had cancer, and we knew he was terminal, but he got much worse on Thanksgiving night two years ago, and we went to the ER and he ended up in hospice and died two weeks later. I didn't realize that Thanksgiving would remind me of all the feelings of that time, and so I was blindsided by the very strong emotional reaction I had to my mother leaving me out of Thanksgiving (which is not normally a terribly important holiday to me.) Also, my ex-husband collapsed with the illness that would eventually kill him on Thanksgiving night 2002. Plus, last Thanksgiving, my cat got into some antifreeze and I had to have him put to sleep. My uncle died right after Thanksgiving in 1997. So Thanksgiving has now become a really difficult holiday for me. Anyway, I wanted to say that one month is hardly enough time to even begin dealing with the grief of losing a parent. And if your stepmother was a mom to you, then she is mom, and that's all that counts! People always said to me they couldn't understand why I was upset when my ex-husband died, since he was no longer my husband, but I didn't care that we were no longer married, I still loved him, and it's how much you love the person that counts. Ann

For me, it's been 4 1/2 years. I still miss him. I know I always will. I still talk to him almost every night. I talk to him in the car sometimes. I feel like his spirit is near me sometimes. I don't tell anyone else about this, they often say they think I should be "over it" by now. But we just try to get used to our changed lives -- we don't get over it. Ann

My dad's family was not in favor of funerals either. When he died, he was cremated, but my mom wanted a small funeral so her family and friends could come. I didn't feel like my dad would be upset, because the funeral is for the living, and my mom needed the support of her family and friends. They all came and it meant a lot to her, and my brother and my brother-in-law spoke and said wonderful things about my dad. We made a picture board of pictures of my dad with all his children and grandchildren, and then we gave it to Mom after the service, and she has it now (it's been two years come Dec. 7th.) It's very hard to go on without a parent, especially your mom. I'm so sorry for your loss. All I can say is, let yourself cry and cry, it is the road to eventual healing. Ann

Marty, that is beautiful. Thank you for posting it. If the roles were reversed: well, when we got married, my ex-husband always insisted he hoped he would go first, because he could not live without me. Even when we got divorced, he wanted to keep in touch, and over the years, we mostly did. I think he would have had a tough time if I had died first. He checked in on me on a regular basis as he lost other members of his family. He lost his mother when he was only 21, while we were still in college and dating. His uncle committed suicide. His father died in 1993. The worst was that his beloved partner, Jerry, died of AIDS. My ex was completely devastated. It took him a long time and much grief counseling to move on in his life. I remember him talking to me about Jerry's death when he got sick himself, 12 years later, and choking up. He told me if he ever lost me too, even when we were not in touch very often, it would have been too much. It has been awful for me, but some good things came of it. I became friends with his boyfriend and other friends of his, and after 4 1/2 years, they are still close friends of mine. I firmly believe that I am still here because it's meant for me to still be here. I believe he is in a good place and reunited with his parents and his beloved Jerry. I know I'll see all of them when it's my time. But meanwhile, it's still very hard, and a lot of tears are shed, even after almost 5 years. Ann

Do what you think is best, but don't beat yourself up if you just don't want to make a change right now. The counselors at the grief center where I went all said it's best to avoid making any big changes in your life in the first year after a major loss. Sometimes it's unavoidable, but they all said if you can avoid moving or changing jobs or selling or buying anything major, it's best to wait. Ann

I felt that resentment too, in an awful way. When my father got terminal cancer, and he and my mother were having a tough time, yet I felt resentment because he was almost 80, and my parents had 56 years of marriage, 59 years since they met. Whereas my ex-husband died at 50. I had moments where I thought they should not complain, because they had all those years together, my dad had almost 30 year more of life than my ex-husband. Isn't that awful? I was so jealous. Of course I never said anything. But my parents were also rather dismissive of my feelings when my ex-husband died, and then I was so supportive of them, and have been so supportive of my mother since she's been widowed, yet she never mentions my own loss, just her own. Ann

I LOVE the Titanic song, it expresses so well how I feel. And Jan, as for feeling the grief after 6 months, your daughter is right. I have been very weepy today, and I'm in the fifth year since his death. Most of the time I feel pretty good, and then I have a day like today, when I can't stop crying just like right after he died. I have no idea what triggered it today, maybe because Monday is his birthday. Also, my mother was going through all her photos, and she gave me some from when he and I were dating and engaged, and it brought back happy memories, but also the grief. But for two full years after he died, I cried every single day. The third year, probably every other day. I have only recently really felt that I can take joy in life again, but I still have my days, like today. Ann

What a wonderful dream visit! I have had many in the four years since my ex-husband died. They are so comforting, and he always acts just as he would normally act (not weird like in regular dreams). Since my father's passing a year and a half ago, I have been having some dream visits from him, also. These dreams are such a blessing, we know they continue to live in another form and are watching over us. Ann

People act so strangely in grief. My ex-husband's partner died suddenly of meningitis. The family came and took the body away, completely excluded my ex from any funeral or memorial services (not invited, told not to come!), and then tried to take the house he and my ex had bought together away from my ex. I don't know why they would want to treat someone so loved by their dead son that way, but they did, and never spoke to him again. THEN, when my ex died 11 years later, they had the gall to ask if he left them anything. I know it hurts, but people unfortunately often show their true colors during very stressful times. It's possible that seeing you reminds them of their loss, however. I know that doesn't make it right, but some people can't take it. Sorry to hear of this further heartache Ann

I did not get to spend time with my ex-husband during his illness, and I greatly regret that. We lived on opposite coasts, and I did not have much money at the time. I told him when I found out how ill he was, that I wanted him to move to Seattle so I could take care of him, or I would come to Atlanta. I knew he had no family left -- both parents dead, and he had been an only child, and aunts and uncles all gone, one adopted cousin, also gone or missing. I was the closest to family that he had. But he said he had friends there who were taking care of him and a support system, and I should not quit my job and leave my life to take care of him. So we spent hours on the phone during his illness. I planned to visit when I had more money and he was feeling better. But it took me a long time to get over the regrets and guilt when he died and I had never visited. It was very hard. But I noticed over time, through grief groups, that even if someone left their loved one's side for 15 minutes, they blamed themselves when that person died. I guess we all feel it, because we wish we had more control than we have. We had some close friends in college while we were dating. We introduced them on a blind date, and they ended up getting married a year before we did. I was maid of honor, and my ex was a groomsman at their wedding, and he gave me my engagement ring at their rehearsal dinner. So there was a lot of shared history with them. This couple, whom I'd know for 29 years by the time my ex died, came out to the West coast to visit their son, and we got together. I was excited, because I had been sharing memories with my ex's more recent friends, which was wonderful. But this couple had known us long ago, and I looked forward to sharing those happy old memories of when we were young. Well, guess what? Neither one of them mentioned him the entire visit. I brought him up -- and I was careful to make the memories happy, funny ones (he had a wonderful sense of humor), not sad ones, but still, they would either ignore the reference, turn away, or say just, Yes and then change the subject. They seemed to want to behave as if he never existed. My mother pointed out that not everyone wants to talk about grief, and she implied that I was just feeling sorry for myself. However, about a year after that, my father died, and she changed her tune. People who have not been through this often think they are reminding you of your grief if they talk about the person who has died. As a psychologist I work with says, Of course we never forget! We don't need to be reminded, that person is always in our thoughts, and talking about them and sharing memories is comforting. But other people often don't seem to understand that. Since my ex's death, I have had two friends who died of terminal cancer. I visited both of them -- I find that the greatest regrets are the regrets that we have about what we did NOT do, not what we did do. So I try now to err on the side of doing something, visiting the person, making some kind of contact to let them know I care. They both said they were very happy I did so, and I had fewer regrets when each of them did eventually pass away. And my father, as I mentioned, had terminal cancer. When he was diagnosed, we had just had an argument, but I spent as much time with him as I could after that, and was there for his final days, and I have never regretted that. Ann

Ha, this will sound even weirder. I was turning into my ex-husband after he died. I found myself surfing TV channels and then watching several episodes of Find & Design, where people searched out bargains in flea markets and turned them into wonderful home makeovers. I hate flea markets and have absolutely no talent for home design, especially on a shoestring. It took me several hours of watching this (I think it was a marathon) before I realized it was EXACTLY the kind of show my ex would have loved. But here's the weirdest thing -- although we had been divorced for 20 years, and lived on opposite coasts (Atlanta vs Seattle), our symptoms seemed to match up. I was having episodes of menstrual bleeding that were excessive and lengthy (like five weeks at a time) during the same 19 months when my ex was ill. I did not tell him about this (it turned out later I had cancer, which was cured by surgery) so as not to worry him, because he was very seriously ill with liver disease and waiting for a transplant. And our relationship was all by phone -- I planned to visit him but couldn't afford it yet. And he wanted me to visit after he had the transplant (which he unfortunately died waiting for). But I realized later that his hospitalizations exactly correlated with my bleeding episodes -- to the day. He would go into the hospital with a coma episode (an unfortunate side effect of chronic liver failure), and I would start bleeding the same day, without knowing he was hospitalized. This happened about six separate times. He would be in there for maybe three to five weeks, and when he was released my bleeding stopped. He would tell me about the coma the next time I talked to him on the phone, so I never matched it up until after he died. One day I happened to compare my journal entries with my menstrual calendar for my gynecologist. And, although I was not called until five days after his death to be informed that he had passed away, my cancer was diagnosed the day after he died, and the bleeding stopped then and never returned due to my hysterectomy. Is that weird, or what? Ann

I just passed the fourth anniversary of my ex-husband's death, and I do well most of the time, but I have my moments, and the sadness of loss will always be there, I know now. You just get a little bit used to it. Here is what I experienced: My ex-husband and I loved each other very much, but he was gay and we got divorced. We were best friends, especially close during his illness. When he died, I felt widowed -- but no one saw me that way. "Why are you so upset? He was just your ex." Well, I chose to marry this man, and the fact that marriage was not the right relationship for us does not change that fact. Love is love. I cried every day. At first, I knew I would grieve, and I thought I could handle it. But it got worse over the months, as many of you are saying. After about six months, I went to see a grief counselor and join a grief group. The counselor told me it is classic to feel the worst about 6 to 9 months after the death, because that is when the shock wears off. Personally, I cried every day for two years. Then every other day for another year. People have told me to let it go, to move on. Many have said, "He would not want me to feel this way." I say, Too bad. Besides, I know he would understand. His dearly beloved partner died suddenly in 1991. Eleven years later, my ex would choke up talking about him. My ex had "moved on" -- he had had other relationships, he no longer cried every day, he learned to live again. But I know he went through what I am going through. When people say he would not want me to feel bad, I say, "You are wrong. He would understand. He experienced loss, too." I have a few understanding friends. My ex's boyfriend whom he met during his illness were of enormous support to me, as ell as other friends of his and mine, and I hope I supported them. Some of them I didn't even meet until I went to the funeral. We email frequently even now, more than four years after he died. Sharing the loss is huge. Having people to talk to who understand is huge. My grief counselor says, sometimes having even one person who understands how you feel makes the difference between moving through your grief, and getting stuck. Slowly, so slowly that it's hard to measure the progress, you feel a little less miserable and raw. There are some books with checklists to see how you are feeling, and you can read it again every few months or annually. You find that you really have progressed, but it's hard to realize it without some measure like that. But I no longer wake up and have the loss hit me in the face immediately. I don't cry myself to sleep every night -- just some nights, especially near his birthday or our anniversary, or the anniversary of his death. Or MY birthday, because I am getting older and he died at 50. I have his pictures around, and I like to look at them. I am finally at the place where usually pictures and memories make me smile rather than cry. But sometimes, they still make me cry. That is normal. I have had other relationships, and loved other men, both before and after his death, though I am not currently in a relationship. But as with everyone you love deeply, he was irreplaceable. Other loves are different, as everyone you love is different. His boyfriend has found a new love. But we still talk about him, and he, too, feels the grief. Fortunately, his new boyfriend understands. He says he is happy to be with someone who can love that deeply. I like that way of looking at it. I still have days when I just cannot believe that I can't pick up the phone and call him and have a long chat. Those days just happen less often now, but they do still happen. I love what you wrote, Dusky -- I do believe recovery takes a lifetime. Ann

I find it so hard to believe that people are still writing things like this article! Is it any wonder that drug abuse is such a problem in this country, when we are encouraged all the time to take prescription drugs if we seem the least bit "abnormal", or if our emotional reactions don't live up to some arbitrary standard of "normal"? I was lucky -- when my ex-husband/dear friend died, I found the grief uncontrollable and overwhelming. I finally went to a professor who teaches at the college where I work. He is a nationally known expert in the psychology of grief. He immediately told me society has no clue how to deal with grief or grieving people, and he gave me articles he had written on how the media trivializes grief, or says things like, "six months after his child's death, this man is still grieving", as if that were abnormal! He gave me a referral to a grief counseling center. They totally saved me. The counselor told me that everyone is so different in the way that they grieve, and that I should not sorry if my grief takes a long time to soften (she never says grief goes away or is healed, but that over time the pain softens. She lost her son 25 years ago.) She said that I have complicated grief and disenfranchised grief, so it's a lot to work through. Many of the people in my grief support group were taking antidepressants, but mainly so they could sleep and function. Since I was not caring for children or anyone else, I just let myself not sleep when I was unable to. For a couple of months, I barely slept or ate. But I knew my body would eventually make me sleep and eat, so I decided to just "go with the flow". And eventually, I did start living again. But I cried every day for two years. Then every other day for another year. Now it has passed the four year mark, and I am able to have a happy life much of the time. That is largely due to my belief in the afterlife and afterlife communication -- I see signs from him and I see him in my dreams, and I believe we will be together again one day. But I still have my moments when I break down. I sometimes still think, Shouldn't I be over this by now? But one person said something to me that has really meant a lot -- Do you ever "get over" love? Of course we don't. The loss is now part of my life. Sadness is part of my life. But it no longer defines my life as it did for a long time. To get to this point, it takes as long as it takes. I remember something that happened -- one time, several months after my ex-husband died, I had such a bad breakdown that I sobbed and screamed uncontrollably, lying on the floor until I threw up. It was frightening. But I actually felt better afterwards. I told my grief counselor about it, and she said, "Did you wail?" I was startled, but then thought about it, and said, "Yes, I guess I did wail." She said, "Good for you!" I was amazed -- I'm sure almost anyone else would have told me I needed drugs immediately, if not a psychiatrist! But the wailing really did help -- I connected to pure raw pain, and realized that I could survive it. And now, four plus years after his death, it is a great comfort to be able to come to this site and read and post, and not feel weird that I'm "not over it". Ann

I find it's quite normal to sometimes speak of a loved one who has died in the present tense, especially if the loss is very recent, as in your case. Just yesterday, I spoke to a friend about my dad in the present tense as if he were still alive: "Dad likes to do that", although he died 20 months ago. Ann

I usually find some way to be honest about my feelings to some extent, at least, to say that I'm feeling down, or that I will be okay in the future but having a tough time now. I did get some unfeeling responses at times, like: "He was just your ex, why do you care?" But it's sufficient that I DO care, and my ex-husband's passing hit me almost like widowhood, only no one around me (including my family) acknowledged it as such, and everyone expected me to "get over it" very quickly, since we were no longer married, despite the fact that we remained friends, and were especially close during his final illness. They were all stunned that I went to his funeral (which was across the country). But I was lucky -- I work at a college where a professor who is well known in the field of grief psychology teaches, and he was wonderful to me when my ex died, and helped me find a good grief group to join, and told me that society always expects us to "get over it" much, much faster than is at all reasonable. I took his class on the psychology of death and grief, and it helped me a lot. I think one of the responses that really stands out to me now, four years after his death, was when a coworker came up to me one day about six months after his death, and said, "Are you feeling sad today?" I said very honestly, "I feel sad EVERY day". She just hugged me. I think that was one of the best responses I ever received. On occasion, she still asks me how I am doing, and clearly wants to hear an honest answer rather than simply "I'm ok". Although she herself was never widowed, she seems to have the compassion to understand that the loss is always there, even when we "move on" and are smiling and laughing again. I never would have believed I could have moments of happiness again, but I do, four years later. But the loss is always there, and always will be. I'm just a bit more used to it. It's very comforting to always be able to come back here and post how I REALLY feel. Ann

Thank you so much for your responses. This has been bugging me lately. KayC, what a great memory you have! I haven't posted here for quite awhile, I'm touched that you remember my story! Yes, my ex's partner is still a good friend of mine, and he has been of enormous comfort to me (as I hope I have been to him). I feel badly for him -- there is no word for a gay partner who has suffered this great loss. You're right about marriage -- for so many years, I felt that our marriage "failed", and envied my sisters and their happy marriages. Well -- over the years, the truth surfaces. My ex and I remained very loving, though we both moved on to other romantic relationships. My sisters have begun to question their marriages, as to whether they are so happy after all -- one brother in law is drinking heavily, and there are problems galore there, and the other sister says her marriage was never more than a "marriage of convenience". And my mom lost my dad after 56 years. Everyone's life has pain -- that doesn't mean we should not feel that pain, but it does mean we are not singled out by fate for misery. And I am not miserable. As more time goes on, I am more and more grateful that I had my ex in my life, because he was such a wonderful person. And Bob, you are so right that you just can't win! I figure, if another marriage is in the cards for me, then it will happen. I'm neither seeking it nor hiding from it. It's really wonderful to be able to come here and speak my mind and get such understanding and supportive responses! Ann