KarenK

Sue, I echo so much of what you expressed. It has been almost four years since Ron left, yet the hurt and loneliness remain, maybe not as intense as it was at first. I was "double whammied" by the death of my daughter just 14 months later. As much as I loved Ron, it was her death that truly shattered me. Even that has become somewhat easier to accept over time. What other choice do we have?

Welcome back and so glad you are safe, Darrel. I will be the "odd man out" here and say that I have never contemplated suicide, not physically anyway. I am slowly killing myself mentally. My finances are in the toilet with no way out. I don't drink and I don't do drugs, but(I am very ashamed to admit this to you, my friends), I gamble with money I cannot afford to lose. After losing Ron and Debbie, gambling became my escape from reality. Reality is in full force now. I am a compulsive gambler, more out of desperation and loneliness. Most people do not understand this disease. I have been to GA meetings which are helpful to a point, but should probably break both legs so I can't drive myself to the casino. Enough about my mess. I am the one who got myself into it. Grief drives us to do terrible things. I hope some of you will understand and not judge me too harshly.

Autumn, None of what you express is rambling. These are just the sounds of a heart that has been torn apart. I offer my sympathies for the loss of your daughter as well as your husband. I understand all too well what you must be feeling. Anytime we remove anything from our lives that was meaningful and held fond memories, it is just another stab in our already wounded hearts. Between the deaths of my husband and daughter, it was financially necessary for me to sell our "retirement" cabin, a place where we had lived, loved, and laughed for 40 years, and where we had hoped to live full time one day. That day was not to be. Losing that place was another twist of the knife. Losing my daughter was the final thrust. I finally became numb as I sold item after item of his knowing how precious all these things were to him. Becoming numb was the only way to survive the holocaust. I have survived, just have not mastered the art of living again.

Oh, Martha Jane, "Will I ever survive this and come out on the other side before I myself die". I think that is a question so many of us ask ourselves, especially those of us that have been on this earth for a while. I have survived 3+ years without the man I met one night at a stoplight, the man who used to holler at me from the other end of the house knowing full well I couldn't hear what he was saying. He knew I would come to his side. I'm still waiting for that yell once more. I have survived for 2+ years without the golden haired child who dreamed of one day having horses and bless her heart, she fulfilled that dream. The key word here is SURVIVE. Yes, I have learned how to survive, but not to live without loneliness, emptiness, and pain. I'm not sure I ever will. Never think that you are boring anyone with your sweet, wonderful, sad memories. We all have them and we all share them. We feel your pain.

This is just too sad. Prayers being sent....

Martha jane, I apologize for not responding sooner to your heartfelt post. I also lost my husband of 40+ years in a manner similar to your husband's. He was hospitalized a dozen times since his cancer diagnosis six months before. He did contract c-diff during one of those stays . Sadly, a hospital is where you are most likely to contract it because of unclean conditions or workers. He was a diabetic with a heart condition requiring a pacemaker-defib. The cancer diagnosis was the straw that broke the camel's back. He developed sepsis after his second chemo treatment and was hospitalized for two weeks The night of his release, I took him to a different hospital where it was discovered he was still septic. Two weeks later, as all his organs failed, he aspirated into his lungs and was put on life support. A few days later, I had to make the decision to remove it. Hospice brought him home where he took his last breath nineteen hours later. The following year, I watched my daughter die after a six year battle with Cancer. This is perhaps the hardest journey you will ever take, but we will walk beside you on the path. For me, grief is never ending.

Maryann, Sorry you are having such a crappy day, everything happening at once. Hope you can get the car repaired soon, that your pain disappears, and your team wins. Good for you for saving the little squirrel. Funny, I never thought of squirrels being in palm trees. I'm a forest girl when the opportunity presents itself.

Gwen, I get it, I truly do. My mother was my best friend, the one "constant" during the turbulent years of my life and marriage. She was 67 when Daddy died, never remarried, never looked for love again. I think she grieved long and to herself. I feel selfish now grieving only from a daughter's point of view. I wish I could go back and say "I understand. I know what you are feeling". She left 11 years ago at age 96. Back then, I could still call my daughter, my confidante. She had lived my life with me since age 17, the best of times, the worst of times. That too has ended. Yes, I still have my son, but it's not the same. It just isn't.

Steve, Waiting for an invite. Maybe we can fly over to Goodyear and visit Ann. LOL Just KIdding! You and George look great. Love Ya.

Who knew the kitchen table was for dining? I thought it was just a place to throw my purse on the way in the door. Mine is used rarely for it's proper purpose, maybe Thanksgiving and Christmas. My grandson prefers to eat in his room by the computer and I eat in front of the TV. Wouldn't want to miss a second of current insanity. I "go out" for necessities, not for pleasure. Tried it, but it was just too lonely. Subway is our take-out. Ron and I ate out frequently. Older people eating alone always looked so forlorn. I wish now we had invited them to dine with us. Who knew what their stories were? Perhaps they were as lonely as we all are now. I won't eat out alone.

Marg, Because the Griefshare program is rooted in faith, I probably did not absorb the information proved by the sessions, although I did attend them. I will always have a problem with the "God has a plan" type of thinking. That is just me. I think I went just to be around others who "got it". Everyone was very nice and each of us had suffered different losses. I don't think it's a matter of who you lost, more that you all feel compassion for each other. I certainly can understand your fear and reluctance to go. I know the one who lost her child appreciates your being there. I have been a member of Cancer Survivors Network for 8 years. They were like a second family to me and my Debbie. Another great group of people just trying to survive. Sadly, I have lost many cyber friends over time. I find it difficult to post there now as my family did not have positive results.

Marg, You are a "hoot" and I simply love you! I would have died from embarrassment. Gin, I'm so sorry you are feeling ill. It definitely feels worse when your soulmate is missing. Ron and I were always right there for each other also.

Ron used to say(jokingly) to spend little, find an old pine box and throw him in the back yard. He absolutely did not want his sister or extended family notified. He is buried in a pine casket in our plot next to my parents, just not in the back yard. I have always wanted my ashes scattered over the Tetons. Not feasible, so I will be here with him. Grieving is not my obsession. It is simply my way of life now.

Kay, Arlie is a "hunk". It is great to see his picture. In my mind, I had pictured him as a Black and White Siberian. He and Marley would have made beautiful babies together. LOL

Marg, it is not cowardly to want to go before your children. I thought surely she would survive because of her faith. Silly me! She was the bravest person I know, because she knew what lay ahead when she discontinued treatment. Perhaps she had a faint hope that faith would suffice. It didn't. Somehow, I have survived. I fully admit that I am afraid to die. I don't want to be "no more", but then I wouldn't know it anyway, would I. I can only hope that my son does not go before me. I don't think "God" carries bargaining chips.

My crazy thoughts this morning.......... Forty years ago, Death came to visit my family. It came to take my father via an abdominal aneurysm. It was the first time I had met Death. I was 30 years old. I was the last to speak to my Daddy as he was loaded into the ambulance. I said "I'm right here Daddy" and he replied "I know you are." He bled to death. That was it. I was angry at "God" for too many years to count. Death is final. Twenty nine years later, Death came to visit again, this time taking my sweet little Mother. She died before I could reach the private care home in which she had lived for the last six years in what I know was her own private hell, not because of the home, but because of the massive stroke that had ravaged her brain. I felt so guilty for not being there. Death is final. Death is cruel. Seven years after that, Death came for my soulmate, the one who had given meaning to my life for forty one years. I held his hand and slowly watched him slip in to Death's grasp. Death is final. Death is cruel. Death is devastating. I couldn't bar the door against Death, no matter how hard I tried or how much I prayed. One year later, Death came stealing through the night, during a horrific thunderstorm and stole my child. There are no words to describe the pain Death brought. Death is final. Death is cruel. Death is devastating. Death is relentless. Logic says that when Death visits again, I won't even be aware of it and all the many emotions it evokes. Death is, after all, simply the means to an end.

Gabbie, What a kind and special thing you have done. When my husband died, we had a "Tuxedo" cat who was a hand-me-down and had been with us for many years. He and my Black Lab were best friends, but he would not tolerate any other dogs, so only he remained when the lab left us. A year after my daughter died, "Batman" went to "Cat Heaven". After losing my husband and daughter, the hole in my heart was almost too big to repair and I needed a friend. I found Marley at the Humane Society. She is a beautiful, now 5 year old Shepherd-Lab-Husky. She is my constant companion and a true blessing for me. Furry friends have a way of making things just a little bit easier.

Darrell, You brought me a small smile. "Cowgirl up" was my daughter's mantra. She was my tough little cowgirl. I thank you for that. Peace to you. Karen

Joyce, In the beginning, I was filled with hate and anger at the many medical professionals that gave improper care to Ron and hastened his death. I'll never forget bagging up all the unused medicine, taking it to the hospital and throwing it at them screaming "You take it. You killed him" I'm sure they thought I was a raving maniac. If I could have killed the Hospice nurses that let my daughter suffer, I would have done so without conscience. But all for naught. I am a big fan of "What goes around, comes around". Not my place to interfere. The funny thing is that I'm not really a violent person. Just don't hurt my family. I think I lost my mind for a while. It took me years to let the anger go. Even after almost four years, the emptiness remains. I don't think in terms of a future, rather just getting through each day with a roof over my head. Together we could have "lived under a rock". There is no together anymore. In time I hope we can look upon all these anniversaries and birthdays with fondness, and not sadness. My heart is with you.

I wonder if it is just a "sign of the times" and the environment we now live in, Gin. At age 38(my son's age), I was still out climbing mountains and wilderness hiking. My daughter was 44 when she was diagnosed with cancer, fairly young but of course, cancer can strike at any age. I will be 70 this year and "knock on wood" have never really had any major problems, except the blasted fungal pneumonia in Kentucky which left me with Aspergillus. I just take it in stride. Another setback for my son. He called several of the doctors on his list looking for a new PCP today and none of them would accept the insurance. So he called the insurance provider. It seems United Healthcare has bought his plan, but it does not take effect until Feb. 1, so he is without insurance until then. He can still go to the hospital, if needed, but won't be able to do anything more about his hip or the bleeding(which has slowed down). He has one of Ron's old canes to help a little. He's supposed to return to work on Wed. Don't know if he will be able to or not.

AB3, You are not complaining. We are a family, here to listen as you express your feelings and help if we can. The hurt does not go away, but in time somehow we learn to accept what has happened to us and those we loved so very much. We try to move forward a little each day. I cannot truly describe how I felt after losing my husband and my beautiful daughter one year later. My life and my heart have been destroyed, yet I rise each day and go on. It is a long, hard journey we are all on. Please know that we understand. Your mother and your in-laws will also. Do not keep the pain locked up.

Brad, Have you ever heard Kitaro? He is probably my favorite of New Age. I especially like Silk Road Suite. I don't know how to post the music here.

Marie, I think it is a matter of personal preference. No one should be able to judge you. Only your heart knows what feels right for you. That being said, I would only caution you to not mistake love for loneliness. You are an adult and probably already know that. I am definitely not wise. I think I would be lost trying to start a new relationship. Times have changed way too much since I went on a "date" LOL Take care.

Butch, you and your family are always in my thoughts and prayers. You are the strongest person I know, my friend. Mary would be so proud of you.

In the beginning, I think we all agree that our grief was constant, kind of like drowning. After a few years, mine has become random, like Marie's. So many other of life's trials have appeared that grief moves to the back burner for a bit. Mine seems to hit when I'm overly tired or watching a certain movie, but mostly when listening to music. I lean toward CW music which is a trigger in itself. It's funny, but I have never once wished that he was here to help me over some of the humps. I have always been relieved that he was gone before Debbie died, for he would not have survived her death. I have never had panic attacks, probably just anger attacks at life in general.