heidi1

Chris, There was an article in a national newspaper here yesterday, where a husband and wife died within 2 hours of each other, they were cremated in a double coffin, they were both 64, he died of MS, and she died of a chest infection brought on by worry over her husband. As is often the case, the readers comments are as interesting as the article, many say they want to go around the same time as their partner, one says that having seen the sadness her widowed mother carried around with her for 10 years, until her recent death, she wouldn't wish it on anybody, another says that the grief and pain and loneliness of his widowed father is so hard to see, in spite of all the company and help he could wish for. The paper is the Daily Mail and the article was headed with something about the double coffin if you wanted to read it, the comments are below the article. I just thought it would help to validate your feelings Chris, because your feelings ARE valid, grief is so isolating, no one can really help us except by knowing that others feel as we do. A complete escape from this haunting reality you say, I say Amen to that, if you find it, please let me know. Heidi.

Jan, you and Pete sound like me and Robert, he was only 16 when i met him, and I was 18, (he was my toyboy), we too came from similar backgrounds, I am one of two sisters, he was one of two brothers. We shaped and formed our adult personalities together with each other in mind, we were just kids when we met, but we had some wonderful times together. I keep torturing myself with thoughts of how he must have suffered over the last few years and more recently of course, and I'm so afraid of the future. I don't want to have life that he doesn't have, he really didn't deserve what happened to him. I know I keep saying the same things over and over, but I really don't want to continue living without him, nothing means anything anymore. You are so right, no one can understand unless they have suffered it too, and you can see in their eyes when they do understand. Heidi.

Chris, I understand what you are saying about the person you were having died too, I feel just the same, I too long for the person I was, but I can't be that person without Robert, my soul is bound up with his, when the bible says we become one flesh, that is just how it was with me and Robert. So a large part of me has died with him, I can't ever be the person I was again, I feel like shadows of bits of me. And I understand your reluctance to leave your home for the trip to Mass., is it a long way? I know you don't view distances the same in the U.S. as we do in the UK. heidi

Congratulations Chris.

Chris, It's just occurred to me that he might think antidepressants would be a better answer. Heidi.

Chris, Robert used to have Temazepm 10mgs, two of those worked well for him,( he only took them occasionally so he built up a war chest of them) I also took his Temazepam every night for over a year when he had a serious illness 3 years ago, the doctor was reluctant to give me any of my own, sometimes I would need two to make me sleep, but they worked well for me and Robert, we had no side effects, and I found it easy to come off them when I felt ready. They do belong to the same group of drugs as Valium (benzodiazepines) and are said to be addictive, but I can only speak from our experience. All drugs have potential to do harm, and people react differently, but I can certainly understand your need for sleep, when Robert was so ill almost 3 years ago my only respite was in the oblivion that the sleeping tablets gave me, I couldn't have carried on without them, they were a lifeline to me. When I used to work nights at the hospital I sometimes had Nitrazepam (again, same group of drugs) to help me get enough sleep in the day, but I would feel a hangover effect from them, for me Temazepam is better, I still have some of Roberts' left, and don't hesitate to take one if I have a difficult day ahead (funeral, taking camper). Doctors are cagey about giving sleeping tablets, I hope you get what you need Chris. Heidi.

Kay, that's wonderful, such a horrible, frightening disease. It's a testament to human nature that he is so well looked after, I think that's one of the diseases that some people in the UK are wanting voluntary euthanasia for, and you can understand it. When Robert was in the hospital I was humbled by the kindness of strangers, a little OT assistant brought me a cup of tea at 7.30 most mornings, the1st time she did it I burst into tears, because no one had offered me anything from 7am to 11.30pm. Fae, you are so right, our attitude is crucial to every situation we face, we are all different. I wish I didn't get so easily cast down, I've taken my blood pressure today and it's good, so probably no heart attack for me, that makes me feel desperate instead of pleased, I'd kind of pinned my hopes on a big fat heart attack. Chris is probably smiling at my 'quaint phraseology', but I mean it, I'm a stinking coward, and a heart attack in my sleep will do me just fine, a quality death, like my dad had. I really admire ones on here who are making the best of what they have, post encouragement, and try to help ones like myself who are so early on and so deep in grief and despair. I dreamed once, years ago, that Robert had died, and I was standing on the edge of a cliff looking out at my future, and there was nothing, it was just black. It must have been a prophetic dream because that's just how it is. Heidi.

I really didn't want to sell the camper, but, it is almost new and worth a lot of money, money that I need to pay debts, also I will never use it, I will never go away in it alone, and it makes no sense sitting there losing money. It's too big for me to get out of the drive alone at 8 metres long. Anyway, It's done. I have taken it to be sold, they think they will sell it quite quickly. It's been a truly terrible day, all the memories, layer upon layer of pain and loss, the end of an era. I kept it together pretty well at the motorhome place, and most of the way home with my daughter because I don't like to upset her, and there's nothing anybody can do to help me, but I feel so bad. I'm frightened of my feelings, frightened of the future, so frightened of being without Robert, frightened of not being able to remember everything about him. I used to be afraid of dying, now I'm afraid of living. Heidi.

You are all so right, this is one of the very hardest things I have had to do, all the memories, tremendously painful. it's done. It's taken me all day, but it's finally done. No I don't have anyone travelling with me, but my daughter will follow to bring me back. May God allow me to die in my sleep tonight so I don't have to do it, or an accident on the way to the cemetery, anything, anything to be allowed to go to Robert today, I feel so terrible. Heidi.

Chris and Kay, German is a very expressive language, as you may know since lots of people in the U.S. have German ancestry. I suppose the literal translation would be, Was man tief in seinem Herzen besitzt What one deep in his heart possesses, kann man night durch den Tod verlieren can one not through (the) death lose It is a verse seen on 'sympathy' cards in Germany. Today I must complete the clear out of our camper van, and tomorrow take it 200 miles (I know in the U.S. 200 miles is practically next door, but here in the UK it is quite a long way) to be sold, the task is harrowing, so filled with pain and memories, another bit of our lives together gone, but I will never go away in it again, and I need the money. I think of the song that begins 'what a difference a day makes, 24 hours' after my mum died I used to think whenever I heard that, 'yesterday I had a mum, today, 24 hours later, I don't', how your life can change in an instant, and nothing is ever the same again. My life is over. All I want is to be with Robert again. Today. Heidi.

Chris, I posted on another thread about a dear relative in Germany who lost her husband of 50 years, 7 years ago. I vividly remember how she was when she visited us 3 months after Heinz died, she was so utterly lost, so sad and silent like me. I kept it in my heart how she grieved, when she came the next year she was the same, 4 years later she still burst into tears at the mention of him. Now it is my turn, and I knew she would understand how I feel. She said the 1st thing that gave her any comfort are these words on a card sent to her. Was man tief in seinem Herzen besitzt, kann man nicht durch den Tod verlieren. Goethe. It means, what one holds deep in his heart, cannot be lost by death. Heidi.

Chris, I would never have eaten those prawns 6 months ago, they were old, having been in the freezer ages, and 6 months ago I couldn't afford to get ill as I had to look after Robert, but it doesn't seem to matter now. Nothing really matters now. Heidi.

Jan, A dear relative in Germany lost her husband 7 years ago, I vividly remember how she was when she visited 3months after Heinz died, she was so utterly lost, so quiet, so……, I can't verbalise it, but I kept it in my heart how she grieved, the next year she came and she was the same, even years later when I asked how many years it had been, she burst into tears and said 4 years. Now it is my turn, and I knew straight away that she would be one person who understood, as at the time I didn't know any one else who had been so obviously affected. She said the1st thing that gave her any comfort are these words. Was man tief in seinem Herzen besitzt, kann man nicht durch den Tod verlieren. Goethe It means, what one holds deep in his heart, cannot be lost by death. Heidi.

Chris, Believe me, even when you have family with you, although as you say it can be a welcome distraction, it can also be a trial, to keep a face on things, when all you want to do is cry and talk to your loved one. And even when you're with others, you are still lonely for the one special person who made your life worthwhile. Maybe I'm just a weak individual, or maybe it's because we were so young when we got together, but I do know I don't want to live on without him, he is in the best place, and I long to go to him. My only solace is in hoping this might be my last day, an accident, a heart attack (some dodgy prawns I've just eaten), something, to end the pointless misery of the lonely frightening world I now inhabit. It was all worthwhile when Robert was alive, things had meaning, even a cold wet Saturday like today, I would have read a story to him, he loved me reading to him as his eyesight was affected by the stroke, and I loved reading to him. We could have gone out, although it was difficult . With him by my side all the frustrations and disappointments of life were of little moment, we were a team, together we could, and did face the world. And I am an ungrateful wretch. I have been blessed with so much, I have children who love me, grandchildren too. I have a lovely home in a beautiful part of England, many material things. I appear to be in good health (although who knows). I had a long and happy marriage. Yet my soul is brought down to the depths of despair. Anyone who has ever disliked me or wished me ill, has their revenge now. May God have mercy upon me. Heidi.

Chris, I hear your words, and can echo your sentiments, when I wrote of the mother of my daughters' friend dying last Saturday, a couple of months after her husband had died, I thought how fortunate she was not to have to carry on without him. That's what I want too. Another friend of ours who died suddenly a month ago had said to his wife of over 50 years that if she died he would be five minutes behind her, in the event it was he who died, but I want to be right behind Robert too. I don't think I can add much to what you say, you put it so eloquently, just to say again that your words and sentiments find an echo in my heart, I have no desire at all to continue a life without Robert, a life without meaning. Heidi.