AnnC

That's only 6 1/2 hours of sleep! I know I need 8 hours at least, even when I am not grieving. Grief is very exhausting, you are not abnormal, and certainly not lazy. Even more than two years later, when an anniversary or his birthday comes up, I get much more tired and weepy. It's normal.

I knew people in my grief group who had "delayed grief", where they didn't express grief at the time, and years later, it surfaced. Also, I have read that the siblings of a child who has died are often overlooked when people are supporting the parents. Perhaps that is where you got the idea that you are "looking for attention" or "making excuses". Of course you are not doing that! Grief is totally legitimate -- you lost your sister and you watched her die, and you must have been affected by that. Now that you are an adult, you can find help to deal with the feelings. A grief counselor or group can be very helpful, and posting here can also help. Your grief is completely normal and to be expected. We are here to listen.

I started seeing a grief counselor at about 5 months, and she said it is classic that at about 4 to 8 months, the shock has worn off and you feel worse because the reality is hitting you. It was a bad time, but I will tell you I basically cried nearly non-stop for two years. Now, after two years and 3 1/2 months, I feel a little bit of peace sometimes. I still cry quite often, but more of the gentler crying, not the absolute breakdown and wailing that I did at 5-9 months. The bad crying spells still come, but not as often. I now smile at memories as often as I cry about them. That wasn't true the first year definitely, and not much the second year -- every memory made me cry, and I thought I would die sometimes I felt so horrible. Now I am beginning, just beginning, to appreciate and enjoy life sometimes. Maybe because I have accepted that I will always miss him, always regret that I didn't have more time with him, always cry, that I no longer feel guilty when I have a good day. I don't think it's crazy to believe their spirits watch over us and walk with us through our lives. I have felt his presence with me from the very day I found out he died. I smell him, I feel him, sometimes I even see him in a quick flash out of the corner of my eye. I feel a touch on my hair when no one is there, and I have clear, vivid dreams of him. I know his spirit is around me, and this has helped in my progress through grief. It doesn't take away the pain, but it is very comforting. I am finding that his presence does not go away as I slowly let go of the pain, and when I have my moments of peace, I feel him smiling. It's a long, hard road, but there is some light along the way. My life is forever changed, but that is natural -- I could not lose someone so important to me, and NOT be changed. I feel so angry and cheated, often, but then I also feel blessed that we shared such a love, and that death has not ended that love. I find that I am able to go on living, even though I have felt every negative emotion I have read about in everyone's posts! I let them run their course, which seems to be the only way I can cope with them. Just to let you know, if you're in the first year or two of loss, that if you keep taking it day by day, hour by hour, it does, slowly, get easier to bear.

"By the way... All of you who have been on the other side and watched someone die, I hope you now understand. They did not want to go. The one you mourned loves you, and wanted to make this easier. That's why I originally posted, to let you know that. I wanted to let you know what it felt like from this side." Can't Tell: I'm so happy to hear you are still here and keeping us posted! It's great to hear from you, I have thought of you and wondered how you are doing. You are very sweet. You definitely did help me. You confirmed what I suspected, that my ex-husband wanted to save me pain (although he couldn't), and did the best he could to spare me. I know now that I wanted to be there for him, to save him from pain, and he wanted to keep me away from the day to day difficulties, to spare me pain. We tried to save each other because we love each other. It helped me make peace with how things happened. Please keep posting here and let us know what is going on with you. I am sure when your husband said you are overreacting, it is his fear talking, he is hoping it is only overreaction, that it's not true. It will probably take time to sink in. All the best to you, Ann

Thanks, Deborah. I'm sorry you have to feel the same way, that after finally finding a happy secure life, then it's gone. It's so hard. But I actually felt better after posting. I realized all this was boiling up last night, and I had no one to call who would really understand my rant, and then I thought, I can come and say all this on this board and people wouldn't judge me. So once I got it all off my chest, I did feel better. I do have good things in my life, I love my nieces and nephew. But it just really got to me last night, all that I have lost, and I was feeling pretty bad. Thank you all on this board for a place to come and vent and be heard.

My former husband's birthday, the third one since his death, is in a few days, and I’m really having a bad night. I feel my life is nothing but loss after loss, and I guess I just have this feeling that there is something horribly wrong with me that I lose everything. From the time I was born, my parents moved frequently, so that I could never get attached to a house or a school or friends, because we would move after a couple of years or less and I would have to start all over. We moved ten times before I went to college. I felt at home at college because at least I lived there and went to one school for four years. I met Don at college, first weekend of freshman year. We dated for six years, then got married, and although my parents didn’t like him, I was completely in love. He was so different from me, I thought -- good looking, witty, fun, outgoing, talented, popular. I couldn’t believe he wanted me. But I learned to trust and be happy. Even though we moved a couple of times as he went through grad school, and that was difficult, he was with me, so I could get through it. But it didn’t last. We lost a pregnancy -- then he left me. I was so devastated I became frozen -- I couldn’t bear to do anything about changing my job, my apartment, my car -- anything, I was terrified to make any new commitments, take on any new challenges. I learned finally that my husband had left me because he found out he was gay, but although I realized intellectually that this did not mean it was my fault, and I understand that he was too scared to tell me the truth back then, my feelings of betrayal and abandonment did not go away. I entered into a few relationships, but none worked out. I became brave enough to apply for and get a promotion, but was laid off after four years. I recovered enough to move to the West Coast, where I had been born, and started over again -- it was the only move I ever made just on my own decision, rather than being dragged by someone else. But I was so frightened of responsibility that I took a low level office assistant job although I have a Masters degree. I fell for a man, but he was happily married so we remained friends only, and then he died last year. I became close friends with my ex-husband three years ago when he became ill with liver disease, and then he died, leaving me more abandoned than ever. And I developed diabetes and cancer, and had a hysterectomy. I have never had any sense of security. I lost home, friends, school, job, my husband twice, my child, any hope for more children, financial security, and my health. I feel unworthy of anything good. Why try for a better job, when I’ll only lose it? Why fall in love again, when that means nothing but loss and pain? My sisters are both happily married and have been for over 20 years each, and each have two beautiful children. I’m so envious. What did I do to deserve this life? My father now has stage 4 cancer and it’s terminal. But I have to admit, I look at my parents and think, So what? They are 78 years old, married for 55 years. They have children, grandchildren, a wealthy lifestyle, lifelong friends, and their siblings, though not their parents, are still living and in good health. They don’t appreciate what they have, their long lives and long happy marriage. And they did their best to sabotage MY marriage, and said "We told you so" when I got divorced. They were completely cold when Don died. Who are they to complain? I know this is selfish, but I feel so cheated. I have nothing. What is wrong with me that I have lost everything good I ever had? I know this is just a litany of self-pity, but I am really hitting bottom tonight. My life is just gray and empty, and I’m sick of it. I am not suicidal, but if I had not woken up from the surgery when I had the hysterectomy, I would not have minded all that much. At least I would have been with my husband and baby.

Wow, what an incredibly difficult situation! Given what you had to deal with, I think you did the best you could. There was nothing you could do to win in that scenario! No matter what decision you made, someone would have been upset, right? So you did what you could to remain in a relationship with each of your parents. I don't want to be harsh, but it isn't fair for parents to try to keep their children from the other parent, unless it is a safety issue. The same sort of thing happened in my father's family way back. My great-grandfather ran to Las Vegas, divorced my great-grandmother, and married his secretary. And you probably thought that only happens now! This was back in the 1930's. Anyway, all the sons (my grandfather and his brothers) sided with their mother, understandably, and refused to ever speak to their father again. My father, when he got older in the 1940's, arranged a meeting between his father and grandfather to reconcile. My grandfather was the only one who reestablished a relationship with his father, and his brothers then found a way to exile him from the family business as punishment. But I know both my grandfather and my father were glad, when my great-grandfather died in 1947, that they had been in a relationship with him in his last years. Still, my great-grandmother never forgave them. It's really a no-win situation, and you have to listen to your heart, which you did. I applaud you for doing very much what my father did, by making that contact and having your father back in your life under the best terms you could arrange. Just like my father could not make his uncles do the same, you can't do anything about what your siblings did, or how your mother felt about it, but you honored your own feelings by staying close to both of them for the rest of their lives, and I think that is a gift of love to your parents. Ann

You're right, Shell, when we go through something like this, we really find out who our friends are, and it's often a big surprise. My best friend doesn't really grieve like I do, and seemed to "get over" her father's passing quickly. But she does listen when I need to talk, so even if she doesn't totally get it, she is open enough to let me grieve in my own way. My sister is a wonderful support, but the rest of my family thinks I'm wallowing. Other friends have dropped away for the most part. There is one sweet lady at work who periodically still asks me how I am doing -- she just asked me this past Monday, even though it's been more than two years! She understands that it takes time. But my main support came from my ex-husband's closest friends. I didn't even know them until the funeral, since we lived on opposite coasts. Now they are my very close friends, and we email almost every day. It's been a god-send -- how strange that friends of 35 years just vanished, and these people I only met at the funeral have become so close!

I am so sorry for your loss. Since you say your fiance was there 3 months ago to see the birth of your son, I assume it has been less than that since he died. That is so fresh a loss, and I know how hard it is to have people expect you to "be over it" when it's only been such a short time! I also have had people tell me to "move on", and recently, I just decided that I have a RIGHT to NOT move on if I don't want to. In a weird way, I think this is helping me to move on, I guess because I removed that pressure from myself of living up to other people's expectations and timetables. There IS no timetable. You have suffered a terrible loss, especially with so young a baby to now raise. It doesn't feel fair, and that's because it isn't fair. It's no wonder you feel as you do. I don't have children, so I can't completely identify with your feelings, but I was devastated when my ex-husband died, and now my friends want me to "move on", which apparently in their minds means dating and remarrying! I'm ready to tell them all to Back Off!!! Are they nuts? Maybe, maybe in the far future IF I should meet someone -- I'm not saying it's impossible, but it's not going to happen right now, and I find them insensitive and pushy to be going on about it. My best (?) friend told me it PROVES I am failing to move on because I am not remarried after our divorce and his death, and I told her to mind her own business. Each grief journey is unique, and no one can tell you what you should be doing.

Good for you, Whiteswan, you needed to rant! This is a good place for it! I don't blame you for being angry, but what I kept thinking as I read of your family's reactions was "denial, denial, denial." As you said, it was obvious your mother was dying -- it seems to me they simply refused to see it. And now they won't talk about her? I would not, personally, call that "getting over it easily." I would tend to call that denial, and suppressing their emotions. They are not dealing with the loss, it seems to me. I mean, I don't know them, of course, but that's how it seems to me. It's very upsetting when someone won't talk about the person who has died. I spent a weekend with some friends of my ex-husband's and mine from college, and was looking forward to sharing memories of him with them, getting to talk to people who knew him. Where I live now, no one ever met him. It's been two years, so I was feeling that I would not have to talk about my grief, but I wanted to share fun memories, funny things he said, stuff like that. But the whole weekend, neither of them ever said his name. When I brought him up, they would turn away and change the subject. It really hurt my feelings, but my mother pointed out that a lot of people avoid "unpleasant subjects". That made me mad, because he was NOT an unpleasant subject!! But I know what she means, that they are avoiding the subject, either because it makes them sad, or because they don't want to make me sad. That is a common attitude among people. It's a shame, because I am now trying to decide whether to email them and tell them that I cannot understand why they ignored me whenever I spoke of him, ignored his life and existence, or just let it go. They never wrote me to say they enjoyed their trip or had liked seeing me, so I'm inclined to let it go and let the friendship die (I hadn't seen them in 20 years, and it was a kind of reunion, but it fell flat with their refusal to talk about him.) I really kind of thought, What the he## did they expect? That we three would get together and pretend we four were never together? HE was the one who introduced them in college, and now they've been married 30 years -- and we were the maid of honor and best man at the wedding, and we got engaged at their wedding -- how could they just ignore his existence!?!? Anyway, right now I figure they are simply not dealing with their grief, they are avoiding it, whereas I am immersed in my grief and wrestling with it every day. It seems to me from reading your post that something similar is going on with your family. I guess I just wanted to say that it's never a good idea to beat yourself up and assume others are "dealing with it better" -- it's very unlikely that they are doing better than you are, and besides, everyone is different. It's also possible that you are a person with more sensitivity and a more tender heart, and so you feel the grief more deeply. That is painful for you, but it certainly means you are a kind and loving person!

Derek, I'm so sorry for your pain. I feel so much the same way. I will feel I am doing better, and then an anniversary will come up and I am back in the dumps, wishing I could just join him now and be done with all this. Next week is my husband's birthday, and although I have been doing better this week, I know I'll be headed into a downward spiral for his birthday. It really, really sucks. I know my friends worry about me, but unfortunately this takes the form of their encouraging me to date -- are they NUTS??? So I get cranky with them, and avoid them, and then am lonely, as you say. There just doesn't seem to be a good answer. I do find it helps to go out with friends from my grief group -- they at least "get it", and don't fuss at me that I am "still" upset after more than two years (since they are grieving too after three and four years). I have more days now when I am doing better, but the gaping hole in my life is always, always there. I hope you got through the day. I'm thinking of you.

I think you are probably right that you feel better with someone to talk to, and there is nothing wrong with that (I am the same way!). But everyone grieves differently. And the grief is so fresh after only two weeks! Everyone will be in shock for some time. My suggestion, from what I learned from my grief counselor, is to gently let them know from time to time that you are available to them if they should need anything, but don't put any pressure on them about it. Then let them grieve in the way they need to, even if that means they ignore you. It's important to realize that they might never grieve in the way you think they should. Some people never talk about their grief, but instead they are what is called "instrumental grievers", that is, they may chop wood or do other physical work to work through the grief, and that is just as valid as talking. In general, men tend to be more this way, although of course there are exceptions. So I would say a middle of the road approach is best -- don't pester them, and don't disappear. Just maybe a card or note every few weeks to say, "Thinking of you" lets them know you are still around and when they are ready, you are available to listen, or just sit with them in silence, or do something with them when they feel ready to go out and be with people -- and it might be many months before they are ready to do that. Be aware that if you send a note or leave a phone message, they may never respond -- and let that be okay. Accept them just as they are, because there is no way you can know what exactly they need, and solitude may well be exactly what they need, at least for awhile. Of course you are worried, but their reactions are normal in grief. And so are yours. Meanwhile, respect your own need to talk, and find friends/family/grief group that you can talk to and express your own grief in the way that is best for you. Unfortunately, I have also found that the very people whom I hoped to talk and share memories of my husband, like old friends from college, are the ones who totally refuse to even speak his name, as if he had never lived; and the strangers I met in my grief group have been a life-saver, and will listen to me talk for hours about him (and I listen to them talk about their loved ones.) You just can't predict what people need in such a circumstance. And read some good books on grief, so that your fears will be calmed when you realize that there is nothing wrong with them in the way they are handling their grief, so you won't worry unnecessarily.

Well, it's nice to know they are in a better place and all that, but you're right, it doesn't really help! I suppose we are being selfish, but the reality is that we miss them, and we want them back! Of course we want them back well and happy, not sick like before. These are natural feelings. And I never want to hear "it was better this way." How the he@@ does this person know THAT? They are just trying to make us feel better, but that's not going to happen. Eventually, after much time and grief processing, you can feel better, but not because someone says one of these annoying cliches to you! I'm sorry to hear of your loss, and that you are so alone. Anyway, your grieving is certainly not senseless. It is the natural response to a loss like you have had. We have to go through this awful grief journey to process the loss and weave it into our lives. No one wants to, but it's the way we process such a devastating loss. This is a great place to come on those low days. I have them too, and I am sure everyone on this site does, so you are not alone.

I'm so sorry for your double loss. Your reactions are very normal for grief though. Grief is exhausting, and it's very hard to do anything or feel much motivation. Give yourself a break -- it takes a year or even much longer to start to feel that you are part of life again. And it may take longer because you are also mourning your baby. I think your decision to find a group and a counselor is an excellent one. I found that very helpful in the first year, and even into the second year. Grief is a very long difficult road, but you are right, expressing yourself like in this forum or a group or counselling setting does help. Telling your story over and over helps you to eventually adjust to your new reality. You will always miss your father, but I do believe they are still with us in spirit. It doesn't help with physically missing him, but I believe it is a changed relationship, not a relationship that is gone. Sleep and eating disorders, loss of libido, loss of motivation are very common during grieving. I am only now, after more than two years, starting to enjoy life again. And I still have my crying jags, and probably always will, just maybe not as often. I think it's wonderful you found out that he is your spiritual father forever, and I know he is watching over you now. But you need to express and process your grief in order to move through it -- finding this site is one great way to start to do that, we will always listen and we know what it is like, because we are going through it too.

I also lost an ex who was my soulmate. We met the first weekend of freshman year in college, when we were 18. We dated for six years, then got married. We were happily married for more than six years, then he began acting very strangely. He finally broke up our marriage, which was devastating. Now I look back and see that there were times when he tried to tell me what was going on with him, but I cut him off (I guess sensing I wasn't going to like it), and he was scared to tell me anyway. He had come out, realizing he was gay, and so afraid I would hate him. When I finally found out and confronted him, it was better for awhile -- I realized it wasn't anything he could change, and that it wasn't my fault, but it was still very hard to lose my soulmate whom I wanted to remain married to. He tried to stay friends with me, and I tried too, for nearly 10 years. Finally, I told him it was just too hard, and I couldn't move on in my life while he was still around, reminding me what I'd lost. Plus, he had found someone, and I was jealous, and I knew I had to get away from the situation. So for about 8 years, we were out of touch. Then we started occasionally emailing, just to check up on each other. When he got sick with liver failure, we became close again. His partner had died in 1991, and he had not found anyone else he loved. My relationship with another man had broken up after 10 years of on-again, off-again relationship. But I knew my ex-husband was really my soulmate. When he died, I was devastated all over again. I kept replaying everything in my head, even picturing how we could have stayed married, or I could have moved near him and stayed friends with him. He did meet someone he loved in the last few months of his life, which was very hard on that man, because they loved each other very much, but only had four months together, and then my ex broke up with him -- my counselor says that often happens when someone is terminally ill, because they don't want to be a burden, and they find it easier to say goodbye when they are angry. His lover and I cried in each other's arms at the memorial service and have been supportive friends ever since (more than two years.) I now have come to peace with much of my past with him after more than two years. I know we could not have stayed married and been happy. I know I could not have prevented his death. I know we truly did establish a loving friendship in his last year and a half of life, and that he was very happy when I told him I had never stopped loving him, and he said he felt the same way. I learned much more about how hard it was for him to divorce me, and I have forgiven him for not being able to be honest with me about it at the time. But I still miss him, and always will. There will always be this huge hole in my life. I feel cheated by life that my soulmate could not stay married to me, and that he died young (he was 50). It's so hard because you keep thinking that if you'd only known your soulmate (or anyone you love) was going to die young, you would have made more of an effort to be close and spend more time with them! But we make the best decisions we are able to at the time. It is amazing, I have come to realize, just how much love can survive the trials of life. It's the hardest thing in life to lose someone you love that much. I do believe they continue to be in our lives as a spiritual presence. But even so, that physical presence is just so hard to live without. And the guilt of having argued, or not having been in touch (I found it very hard to call him the last few months of his life, because he was getting worse and I was so afraid of what I would hear -- I have been kicking myself ever since, although it's true he was expected to survive, and I know he planned to call me when he got the transplant.) So many regrets -- I can only keep reminding myself that we're no more than human and we all say and do things we wish we could take back.

I think you should wait AT LEAST a year before selling/giving things away, unless it is a financial burden, of course. I think a lot of people get rid of everything right away, and then months or years later they regret it. And keep a few things even when you are ready to pack away or give away most of it. I think it's wonderful to have a few important things. My counselor calls this "continuing bonds". Chrissy -- I know what you mean about the medical facts actually helping. I fussed a lot because my ex-husband died while the medical team to give him the transplant was standing by and ready, and they had a liver for him. His kidneys shut down, and they took him off the transplant list, which seemed so upsetting to me, that he came so close. But when I read up on his condition, I found out he had a relatively rare mutation of Hep B. It went to end-stage cirrhosis, and that particular form is aggressive and very resistant to treatment, and does not make a good transplant candidate. Plus, there was a strong chance he would have had brain damage from the multiple comas he endured from toxins building up in his system. This actually was comforting -- there was little or nothing anyone could do to save him, or give him good quality of life after that. It's still so painful that he's gone, but it wasn't due to medical error or any negligence on anyone's part. I finally realized that if I'd nagged him to go to the hospital sooner, it really would not have changed anything. Hold on to things as long as you need to -- there's no rush about these things.

Kat, How long has it been? For the first six months or a year, it can seem to be getting worse as the shock wears off and you realize what your loss means. Over more months and years after that, it does start to slowly get easier. You always feel the loss, and sometimes you feel awful again like when you were first bereaved. You never stop missing them, but it gets easier.

Last year, I was miserable, missing my ex-husband. A woman on another web site about grief told me about the Day of the Dead -- about the altar, and pictures, the sugar skulls and marigolds. And the bread and eating tamales. So I set up an altar and got some marigolds and put up photos of my ex. Then I added photos of everyone else in my friends and family who have died. I didn't have skulls made out of sugar, but I found some for Halloween that were candles in the shape of skulls, so I used those. It made me feel better. I lit candles and ate the bread and tamales. It did help. It was nice to have a day to commemorate all those who have died. There is Memorial Day, of course, but my family never really did much for that day. Ann

I'm so sorry to hear about your difficulties. This complicates your grief so much, and you have a right to your anger. I think talking to a good counselor would help you sort out your feelings and find your best path through this very difficult journey. My heart goes out to you. I will keep you in my prayers. Ann

Shelley, How wonderful that you found that tape! I wish I had something like that. I have home movies but they are the old kind, silent. They were transferred to videotape, and I recently copied them to DVD, but they are silent and so I have no recording of his voice. I would love to have that. Marty, Thank you so much for your kind words. I realize that the life my ex-husband and I had together was so unconventional that I had to learn to trust my own truth. I always had trouble with that. I found our divorce and his coming out as gay after a twelve year relationship very difficult (as did he), and I finally refused his offers of friendship, feeling there were too many issues and too much pain to confront, and that I would look like a loser, chasing after my gay ex-husband. Several years later, a mutual friend from college called me to tell me my ex had collapsed of liver failure and died three times in surgery and been revived. This was so shocking that it seemed like all my defenses just crumbled and I knew beyond doubt I HAD to call him and talk to him, and I never doubted he would talk to me. We talked for three hours. There came a point in the conversation when he said, "I thought you would never want to talk to me again." And I suddenly thought, Who am I kidding? And I said, "I never stopped loving you." That was a defining moment for me. It was the first time, I think, that I didn't worry about how he would answer, or what anyone else would think. I knew I was speaking my deepest truth, and it didn't matter that he was gay, or that we were divorced, or what anyone else thought, or even what he thought. I just said what was in my heart. He said he felt the same way. From then I realized that we can't put love in boxes. Romantic love, family love, friendship love. My love for him was all of these things, and none of them. It was just what I felt. We had a close and loving friendship during the 19 months that he lived. So when he died, my grief is mine also. My counselor says I have both complicated grief and disenfranchised grief. She was incredibly helpful, supporting me even more in my determination to own my feelings and my own truth. In this way, I have grown so much from what happened with him, and I see that as his gift to me. And I know my love after everything that had happened was my gift to him. He told his boyfriend he was bowled over that I still loved him despite the fact that he was gay, and that he considered me his soulmate. I was very lucky to be referred to this counselor, who does follow the latest way of counseling the bereaved. Thank heaven! The guilt and shame created by the more traditional way of counseling grief must be overwhelming. I can't count the number of times I have heard someone say, "I can't get over it", and it's only been six weeks or something! Thank you for this website, Marty, it is priceless in the support and caring that it offers to the bereaved. Love, Ann

I'm sorry you are going through all this, but believe me, other spouses are NOT perfect! Although I cannot blame my ex-husband for being gay, I am still angry over the way he handled it. Or rather, didn't handle it. He broke up our marriage without telling me why, leaving me to think he hated me, or I had done something too awful to talk about or something. I had to find out through accident and gossip that he was gay. He lied to me about having an affair -- okay, okay, so he could truthfully say no when I asked if there were another WOMAN, but THAT's splitting hairs, isn't it!!! I found out a LOT when his first lover called me after his death, and spent FIVE HOURS on the phone talking, talking, talking to me -- I listened because I have always been cursed with wanting to know the TRUTH about things. I learned much more than I anticipated -- including that this guy was an absolute JERK! He insisted he was promised things would be left to him, and threatened to challenge the will. It was a mess, and I finally wrote him one very nasty letter, saying he might be able to fool my ex-husband's best friends because they had only known him 15 years, but I knew my ex for 33 years, and knew all this crap Andrew was saying was lies, so back off! He did, but not without sending me an incredibly insulting letter. Having found out so much of this after my ex's death, I spent a lot of time screaming at him, writing nasty letters and burning them, and otherwise behaving in accordance with my beliefs, which is that they ARE watching over us and able to hear us. And I had dreams where he told me he was sorry. But it took months, more than a year, in fact, for me to feel somewhat resolved over these issues. How I feel now, is that we are all flawed human beings, and we all make mistakes and hurt the ones closest to us. He was so afraid I would hate him if he told me he was gay. But it backfired -- I hated him for awhile anyway, for leaving me without explanation! And he cared about that guy, but the guy is an alcoholic, and my ex broke up with him long ago, but remained friends with him out of pity. He apologized to me many times for the way he behaved when we broke up -- he said he was selfish. Well, yes, he was, but now I can see his dilemma. We were both brought up to be very conservative, and he didn't want to expose me to his new life. In the end, he made choices that he thought of better later, and tried to make up to me -- and so did I. We were in the turmoil of breaking up what had been a happy marriage, a marriage that hit the rocks for a reason neither of us wanted nor could change or control. We both reacted in ways that were perhaps not the best, but we did the best we could. Even if our best sucked! There is something that occurred to me very strongly when I read your post, and you were wondering why the female friend would say things to you that hurt you about her friendship with your husband. I have one word for you: jealousy. It was the same with my ex's old boyfriend. I realized he was terribly jealous, because my ex made it clear to him they could not have a long term relationship, and that he was having trouble dealing with his sexual orientation because he still loved me. And he told me he still did love me, even 20 years later when he was terminally ill. I believe that woman is jealous of you, because friendship or not, your husband loved you, and she was jealous. She thinks it will make her feel better to try to make YOU feel jealous. Ignore her. He made his choice -- he was married to you. I hope that helps. If we were all perfect, love would not be that big a deal. Love is such a miracle because we are loved even though we are all flawed, imperfect human beings. We can love each other even when we are furious and hurting -- that's the miracle. Go ahead and scream at him, and write letters that express your feelings. Burn them, keep them, whatever you want. It doesn't feel good while you are feeling the anger, but expressing it is the way through it. I believe he hears you. But whether you believe it or not, it's still healthy to express it. (Maybe not dumping the ashes at the landfill, but I can understand the impulse!)

Marty, I clicked the link and read the post from last year on "saying goodbye". THANK YOU! It is so perfectly what I believe. In fact, I have been told several times by people to "let go". I hate that. I was told by a counselor once to "let him go", and this counselor (a spiritual counselor) said I was holding his spirit back by hanging on to my grief. I began to feel guilty, and decided I wouldn't think about him or talk aloud to him any more, if I was holding him back from moving on into heaven. That very night I had a dream. He and I were riding in a car with my sisters, and he had his arm around me. He turned to me and said very clearly, "We belong together. Why do you listen to others tell you things you know are not true?" So from that time on, I ignored anyone who told me to move on, or let go. I believe I AM moving on, however slowly and at my own pace, and I am taking my changed relationship with my former husband WITH me as I move on. I know his spirit watches over me, and that he will be there when it is my time to cross over. I know I can fall in love again, if that is what is in the cards for me, and that will not take away from my love for my first love. I have never said goodbye to him, and I never will -- at most, "see you later".

QUOTE(dpodesta @ Aug 15 2006, 11:50 PM) * "I to still wear my wedding band and I wear Karens around my neck. My boss once told me that if I am still wearing my band after a year, then I need help." My ex-husband and I were divorced for 21 years by the time he died. We deeply loved each other, but he had to come out as gay, so we had to get divorced. He left his estate to his closest friends (he had no family) for their son he was helping to raise. They asked me if there were anything I wanted, and I asked for my wedding and engagement rings. I had given them back to him when we divorced because they had been his late mother's rings. They found them and gave them to me. I wear the wedding ring on my middle left finger and the diamond on my right hand. Some people who know what these rings are look at me oddly. We were divorced for 21 years, and now he has been gone for 26 months. I don't care. I plan to wear these rings in remembrance for the rest of my life. In fact, his closest friends plus his lover told me as far as they were concerned, I could wear them on my wedding finger if I want, they think it's entirely appropriate because they know how we still felt about each other. It's no one's business but yours what you do with your rings, and if you were so fortunate to have a great love in your life, commemorating it is a beautiful thing! My counselor calls this "continuing bonds" with your lost loved one.

I also go through the steps over and over. My counselor tells me this is normal. I also took a class on the psychology of death and grief, and the professor told us he doesn't necessarily agree with the steps of denial, etc., because not everyone goes through all the steps and other people don't go through them in sequence. So don't get too hung up on those steps, they are only an approximation of what a lot of people go through, in some way. He also told us he doesn't like the word "acceptance" -- he prefers "adjustment", because acceptance sounds like you decide the death was a good thing -- you're not likely to feel that way ever! But adjustment is a better way to describe how we try to incorporate the loss into our lives. I find that I have more time now when I feel okay, since it's been more than two years -- but I still have times, like birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and also when something reminds me, that I feel the grief all over again, as if it were fresh and new. I'm told by people who have been widowed longer that it is still like that for them, too -- just that the times that they feel better get longer, and the crying spells are fewer, but they still happen, and probably always will. I decided the other day that I have permission to NEVER "get over" his death, and that made me feel better -- I didn't realize how much pressure I was putting on myself to "get over it". It's easier to just realize I will always miss him. But I do believe his spirit is here watching over me, which is comforting.

I also have had a lot of guilt. I wanted very much to visit my former husband and help during his illness, although he told me I didn't have to do that. I couldn't afford it, and also I did feel afraid -- I did fine without him for many years, after he came out and we had to get divorced. After years of grieving the divorce, I did move on. But when he got sick, I realized how much I still loved him, and the feelings were so strong I got scared, because even though he still loved me and was thrilled we were back in contact, the reality was that he was gay and we could never have the relationship we had once had. I feared that if I went and saw him, and took care of him, I would be completely devastated if he died; and if he lived, and I was so close to him again, I was afraid it would devastate me all over again that we could never be a couple again. So I didn't go see him, and after awhile, I stopped calling him. So when he died, I had so much guilt I could hardly stand it. I wished beyond anything that I had gone to see him, or at least called him one more time, I was so afraid he died thinking I had abandoned him. It has been a constant obsession, playing over and over in my mind what might have happened if I had gone to see him, if I'd called him more often, if I hadn't cut off our friendship after our divorce, if, if, if!!! My mind never shut up. The only thing I can suggest is to let it play out. It's not fun, but your mind is processing what has happened. It does slow down after awhile. And I found some relief by talking to others. His friends and boyfriend assured me that he never felt abandoned by me. He did not call me in the last few months because his health was going downhill and he didn't want to worry me. He didn't want me to spend a lot of money I couldn't afford to come see and take care of him because he didn't want me to see him sick and he didn't want to be a burden on me. I am finally coming to see that, just as I wanted to see and take care of him because I loved him, he tried to protect me because he loved me. And we both had our fears, and that is normal. I still had anger over some things in our past, too, and that's normal, too. His friends assured me that he was so happy that we had reconciled and formed a close friendship, and he was not one to be in daily contact with friends, so he didn't think it was odd that I hadn't called in a couple of months. Slowly, I am gaining a more realistic picture of what really happened, which is helping me to forgive myself. It's been a long hard road -- I am now in my third year of grieving for him, and it's been baby steps. But I do progress. When those guilt feelings come up for me, I remind myself that I did the best I could, and I remind myself that he told me I gave him more than he ever hoped for. And I do firmly believe that they can still see us and watch over us, and they can see what's in our hearts and they know we love them and are sorry for our human failings, which is something everyone has.