Froggie4635

When I approached my workplace this morning, I saw something that is very bittersweet for me. A little while back, the executive vice president here was celebrating his 60th birthday. My old supervisor approached me to create a piece of art in his honor. It turned out really well and I was pleased. Well, this morning, the blinds to his office were open and from the parking lot I could see the piece displayed. Had it been Mark bringing me to work like he always did, he would have been beaming with pride. Today is 17 months that he is gone, and there are times it is so hard to breathe. The idea of not seeing him never walking through the door is a huge struggle. Something that should make me feel pride in myself, brings tears. I hope one day that tears won't be the first response to times like these. Seventeen months sounds like a really long time, but it feels so short.

Dear Mitch, When we married our beloved, we became a team. I imagine that you and Tammy were like Mark and I; no real ME decision, or HIM decision...but an OUR decision. We don't have to purposely include our spouses in those day to day decisions, because the US still exists. We were so in-sync. I understood what you were trying to say. Like you, I don't get out of bed with the intention of making it a GREAT day. Mostly when I wake up, my first thought is getting my three dogs taken care of. There is a rhythm to how things go in the house. Most times I am trying not to forget something important, especially when something in the morning throws me a curve, which could be as simple as laying my keys in a different place, or having to change my shirt for work (like this morning) when one of the babes decides to jump on me. I make sure I leave the house with my purse, keys, lunch and anything else I sat there that I needed to take with me. I come home the same time, and do the same things. It is all about the routine. It is what keeps life moving on track. I was off three days last week, and I only ventured away from the house ONCE. Mark and I were homebodies, so not going out isn't a big deal. I don't make plans to go someplace; but I will go along with someone else. My best friend comes over every other Saturday and spends time with me. Keeping it simple makes it bearable.

Dear Clematis, I can understand the things you are saying. It is funny how we think our experiences are the same as everyone else when we are growing up, until we meet someone whose life was so totally different. My husband grew up in a large family full of love...almost the Leave It to Beaver type family. When I shared with him how I grew up, he would hurt for me and want to take it away. My mom was an emotional abuser and my dad never said anything about it. I ended up having to care for my mom after she had a stroke, and I came to terms and forgave. She raised me the only way she knew how; the way her mother raised her...and it wasn't a very god foundation. I still have scars from those early years. But Mark helped me see the things she said were NOT gospel. I did NOT grieve for her on the level that I grieve for Mark. From Mark I only received LOVE. Of course my mom loved me in the only way she knew how, but it was not the nurturing I needed. I continued to live with my dad for a few years after Mom died, to watch over him. But there was a need in me to find MY life. My parents were willing to allow me to sacrifice it for them, but I wasn't. And both my dad and my younger brother (who ended up having to finally care for dad) treated me like I had deserted them, feeding that worthless feeling I had most of my life as I grew up. This is the very reason I decided very early on that I would NEVER have children. I want to state that I in NO WAY feels sorry for myself. My experiences are what made me who I am; are what have shaped my soul. People who know me and have never met my family see a different person than they did. I got out from under and away from that person. And I am now free to continue to learn and love...and perhaps make a difference. You will too, Clematis.

Dear Marg, This may not be an appropriate place for this post or subject. I guess I equate the word "faith" with HOPE. Without going into too much family history, my parents never really took care of our spiritual lives. So in regards to what goes on in a church, I am truly faithless because I have no foundation in that regards. I believe in a guiding force, but it is not something that I feel I can lean on. I believe I will see Mark again, because I WANT to see Mark again. I think it is one of the reasons why I never got angry with God. I saw a post in one of these forum topics that was Joyce Meyer (spelling) and she was speaking with a minister about the loss of his wife to cancer and how he dealt with all those feelings of anger and questions. One of the things he said that stuck with me, and being the analytical person I am, he said that his wife's death was between her and God and was none of his business. I know Mark didn't "leave" me; he died. He had a heart attack. It is something that happened in his body. Am I to think that God made him have a heart attack? The body is a machine, at least that is what we are taught in school. Without all the religious teachings and stories and preachings, I can only look at death as what it is. The body stopped working. That doesn't mean I do not believe in souls. Souls are WHO WE ARE. We are encased in a body that moves us around, and gets us to the places, and people and experiences we have in our life. Our soul guides us, and learns, and experiences hurt and love and peace and hate. I can't find peace by going into a church, any church, because i know not of their teachings and rules. I have been on my knees numerous times since Mark died speaking to God...but I am not a person of formal prayer. Somewhere along my spiritual education, I was told that God hears and sees all...and anywhere you are you can talk to Him. I have always looked at it like this...there is so much going on in the world right now that is more important than my grieving my husband. God needs to focus on THOSE things. But I sense that I am not alone. I kind of have talked in a circle. I guess my hope for you, Marg, is that whatever is blocking you, that you can find a way to release it. I don't want to start a HUGE debate on spirituality and religion and faith...everyone has their own thoughts, beliefs and practices. The only person I can "blame" Mark's death on is Mark. He didn't take care of himself and made choices that were not healthy. But am I angry with him? I used to get irritated by him and the things he continued to do to himself (smoking and drinking), and sure it would be easy for me to HATE him now because he did those things and now he is gone. But I grieve my loss, and I miss him more than words can describe. Being angry about it won't change the outcome. He did what he did, for whatever reason that was, and he paid the price. Maybe somewhere inside he knew he wasn't going to live a long life and wanted to do the things he did. There is no one who is going to answer all those questions; the questions that send us in circles, and tons of what ifs, or shoulda, woulda, coulda. I know Mark wasn't perfect...neither am I. I loved him with every ounce of me, even though I did not understand why he did the things he did. He lived his life. Now I mourn his loss, while still loving him with every ounce of me.

Dear Marty, Is funny. I received the same piece in my email inbox and glanced at it. When I got home from work, and after you pointed it out, I took time to read it and of course you were so right. Now I just need to get it to sink in. I really wish I could find a way to make this irritating, antagonizing, negative voice in my head to disappear. My therapist called it authoritative. It is not the best to have around as I make my way through all these changes and adjustments. It makes it hard to do those nice things I need to do for myself. I probably have had it all along...but I was able to ignore it when I was happy and had so much positive in my life. I get nervous when I talk about a "voice"...but we all know what it is.

Cardinals are mostly shy and skittish. I stay in a spot and sing/call to me is a message being given.

Well I wouldn't be surprised if that loud cardinal isn't Billy letting you know he still loves you.

I know I have listed my experiences many places on this forum. Some are just small little moments, and then sometimes there are big OMG moments that I know could only come from my husband, Mark and not just me having wishful thinking. I know how very deeply Mark loved me, and he would do as much as he could to let me know he was still here. When I tell people the story of the giant rooster outside my hotel window in Oregon, many tell me they get goose bumps. I have begun researching/reading about such events and many of those who write from the grief end of it explain that we are so deep in our grief and sadness that we actually block the messages and signs they send us. For such things to happen, you really do have to be "open" to it, and sometimes the grief just surrounds us too much. But whether we "get" the messages, our loved ones are there watching and staying near. After all, don't you think they miss us too?

Dear Anne... I am approaching 17 months that my husband, Mark...love of my life has been gone. Your post makes me feel better, and yet also makes me sigh. Everything you said, I am in the midst of. I keep trying to tell myself that I do not need any more books on grief. I have at least two stacks that I have only glimpsed at. I got rid of a nice collection of the ones that I read (though not really comprehending them). I have taken notes, and written down prompts for writing in my journal. I spend so much time printing out Pinterest posts and making art out of them. There is no true urgency in my life; no one to do these things for. I took off three days work, intending to do so many things. I did not leave my house but twice in 5 days...and I was content with that. I don't seem to break down sobbing any longer, but I get hit with little emotional patches that make me tear up and my bottom lip tremble. Is it possible to STILL be so exhausted from grief? I have this voice in my head telling me, "why don't you do this, or do that" and I just DON'T. Sometimes I miss Mark so much that I find myself breathless. There is a lot of empty space in my head that I fill with whatever television show is on. Your post just really rang true to me...and if you are feeling like this at 4 years...am I at the right place at 17 months? I really am so glad you wrote what you did.

There are so many different forums and choices on this site. I am a "black and white" analytical type person. The forum set up for those grieving the loss of spouse is the most active out of them all, and people come to this website for interaction. I have found myself wandering off to the other forums, those set up for posters who are not so fresh in their grief. A lot of people who post want a response; some just want to vent and be heard. I know myself that I do not read posts in any of the forums that are not something I am dealing with. Right now my focus is simply the grief I am handling in regards to the loss of my husband. I have lost a pet, my mom and my father and my very best childhood friend. In my honest opinion, none of them can even touch what I have felt losing Mark. I am sure that somewhere in this world of grief I am dealing with, they are all in there. When you are hurting, you want to be around others who are hurting like you are. We are not supposed to compare our loss against anyone else's, but it does happen. There are also people who post who are "stuck" and don't want to move on, and can at times drag down a topic. I look back and read so many older posts, and so many of the people have moved on. I'm not sure what I am really trying to say. These forums are here to help, but not cure. There is nothing that is going to make the hurt go away. Sometimes getting away from others who are hurting allows you to see how far you have come. Grief is a truly personal thing, an emotional thing.

I am truly thankful to have my forum family to help get past these times when nothing makes sense, and I somehow want to crawl into a hole (for a little bit). Reading the responses brought tears to my eyes; to feel all the caring and compassion. I don't understand why I cannot allow myself to have all the leeway possible...to be okay with just sitting. It is true. I also felt as if I sat on a spring. Mark did his things, I did my things, and we did our things. There were many times I sat in my studio for hours working on a project and NEVER felt guilty about what got done. Mark never made me feel I was wasting time...he LOVED seeing me in my studio. So now, all of a sudden I look at myself as a slacker because I mostly tidy up a little, take care of the fur babes...but mostly walk around LOOKING at what I could be doing. There is no urgency. There is no joy. It eases things knowing I am not going through it all alone. Thank you all for sharing your stories and feelings and freely giving support. It is truly appreciated.

I seem to be on this same route with myself. Questioning myself about everything. Is it possible to still be so tired at 16 months, to just drag? Every little thing just feels like it zaps my strength. I have this pushy voice that is so agitated with my lack of motivation. I have been off of work for 4 days now, and had high hopes of accomplishing so much. Part of me just wants to sit and cut out pictures I printed from Pinterest and create something with them all. Sometimes grief feels a lot like laziness. It is only 9:45 am, but it feels like it should be noon already. What is wrong with me?

Kay, I can relate. When Mark started his last job, we created a routine. He would drop me off at work (he didn't work too far off; I went in early so our schedules would jive); lots of kisses and I love you before I got out of the car. Then he would call me every afternoon when he went home to have lunch and take care of the babes. I looked forward to that mid-day fix of Mark. He liked the break of leaving work to go have lunch and also to make sure the dogs got to go out. He would call me when he left work, so I could finish up and meet him out front. Some days, he would show up without calling and surprise me and come in the office. He loved seeing me in my work cubicle. He also liked to visit with everyone I worked with. We didn't live too far from where I worked, but on the way home he or I would vent about our day. By the time we pulled in the driveway, things were good and we walked into the home feeling peaceful (most times). I agree with you...missing him is the hardest thing. I notice his absence more and more. One thing I am so grateful for...we ALWAYS made sure we said I love you, and showed it all the time. It was the one true constant in our life.

I just finished writing a letter that will be sent to the recipient of Mark's corneas. It took me a long while to be comfortable with the idea of someone else walking around with Mark's eyes. But I am so very proud of him for being so very selfless. I hope perhaps to maybe meet these two people some day, when the time is right.

I've been keeping up with everyone's posts. It just shows me how each individual life affects another. We are all working our way along this journey, stopping and staying in certain spots for as long as needed, but then moving along a little bit more. I believe, as Mitch put it, that those of us here are dealing with the loss of our soul mate...a connection not everyone has a chance to experience. When you try and explain that to someone, they look at you funny...sometimes that includes people that are close to us. That's because there a million different reasons why people get married. I know it will be part of my journey to find the gratitude of having Mark in my life for as long as I did...but right now all I can feel is disappointment that it wasn't for longer. But I just had a thought pop in my mind...perhaps from Mark. "Quantity versus quality". Oh, we had the highest of quality. It is hard to have such a taste of such unconditional love, and then have it be gone. We didn't have enough time to be able to do all those things we talked about. How were we to know that our time was going to be so limited. I am now beginning to feel those losses...those trips we never got to take, the things I never got to share with Mark. We loved being with each other, and it was enough for us. But all couples want to share times and places and make new memories with each other. I feel cheated right now...and it creates a feeling I can't explain. It is like anger, but who should it be directed at? We cherished the fact that we found each other, and never took that for granted. I am trying to use the love we had for each other to move myself forward, to hold on to that sweet feeling. Mark helped nurture my ever growing creative side, and I am trying to find a way to channel that. It is a way to keep my connection to him strong and vibrant. I hope he knows how much he was responsible for me being able to release this part of me. I couldn't find the way to "let it out" if not for the confidence his love gave me. He believed in me...and that is the greatest gift anyone can give. I know he knew that I believed in him, because I saw a change in him. When we met, he had given up on himself and the hope of having love. He wrote about it in all the cards he gave me over the time we had together. It is just proof to me that our souls knew when we came together just what we had found. It was what we had needed and wanted our entire lives. It took us a while to trust that we had found the :real" thing. Mark wrote to me about feeling so much in the dark, and when we met, it was like a slimmer of light breaking through the dark...something to move him forward. As he did, and opened himself up to it being real, the light got brighter; until he was completely out of that dark, scary forest and into the bright. I feel blessed that I was able to nurture that in him. But I got the strength to nurture him, by drawing it from him. I think it is the definition of soul mate. We opened each other up. And now it is my duty to honor him by keeping it going; to stay open to that love. I understand what Mitch talks about by having all that love to draw upon. Some days it is harder to have only the memories. But the love lives in those memories. A precious gift given to us.

Mark said a little while before he died, that if he were to go first, he wouldn't be able to stay in the house because I was everywhere...my touches and decorating. Well, he is everywhere also because I did the decorating and special touches to make it a home for him and I. I have spent the last 16 months adding new touches...hanging all the things we collected and creating a collage in the living room and the wall outside my studio. I have lots of projects I want to complete, but need some help on some. NO rush on them just yet. Keeping up with the three fur babes occupies so much of my free time; the time when I actually have energy to work. I want to spend time is his bedroom. I don't go in there too much right now. But I would never leave our home right now..

Dear Mitch... With only making two changes in what you wrote, replacing you with me and Tammy with Mark, it completely explains how my life is going presently. Mark did not struggle with illness as your wonderful Tammy; he was struck down sudden and unexpected. Two peas in a pod described us to a T. I put my birdfeeders back out today; knowing that the big one will get ravaged by squirrels...that is what the dogs are for. They get exercise, and I get to have a chance at watching the birds out my window. Like you, I try and find a glimmer of joy; I try and find a way to channel my creative energy. I am looking forward to having a few days off this coming week. I am trying to convince myself NOW to not let the time go by without making some productive use from it. It is still small victories that I look for. Something that I can take pride in. It is hard to get past that "it doesn't matter" frame of mind...because a LOT of the time it really doesn't. I am so glad to see your post today, Mitch. Thank you for putting it so perfectly.

Thank you ladies for the very warm words. I am glad the thoughts I put down are helpful. No one should ever feel like they are walking this road alone as we mourn and grieve. Who would have thought that 18 months ago (dating back to before Mark died) that I would find myself in this place of having to learn how to live a whole new life? Some days it still feels like a whole new realization; like I am just facing it for the first time. I work so hard during the week to put it out of my head, and just try to focus on what is at hand. This was a stressful week, and it had nothing to do with grief. But the grief is still there, regardless to whether or not you "feel" it. It kind of just waits there in silence until you have quiet moments, and it taps you on the shoulder...or it jumps on you like a giant bear. Whether you are ready for it or not. My fur babes have no distinction between work days and weekends, so of course I was up early. After trying to get back into bed, the thought that popped into my head was seeing my mother-in-laws face the morning she arrived at the hospital that morning. An odd thing to think about first thing in the morning, but sometimes that is how the mind works. I am following my Saturday morning ritual. I have a cd I made with soft, moving music and I will sit and write in my journal and "talk" to my husband. Sometimes I cannot elaborate more than to simply say "I miss you". I think my heart is finally getting to a place where it "understands" that he is not coming back, and it just feels exhausted from that hopeful ache that I have sort of been oblivious to while I tried to keep my life moving forward. Sometimes it is more work to put things out of your mind than to deal with it. At work, I look at his picture as I go about my tasks and smile a little...like a look from him keeps me going. When I get home, and the house feels an emptiness that nothing can fill, that little smile disappears. The news has been carrying interviews of friends of Prince reacting to his sudden death; a grieving fan said something that just took me back to the day Mark died. She said "he was JUST HERE yesterday; I touched his hand. How can he be gone just like that?" I shook my head as tears rolled down my cheeks and remember saying the exact same thing, and hearing it from my friends and colleagues who had just seen Mark the day before he died, so full of life and happy. The snap of the fingers and life is changed forever.

I signed up to have the articles come in my inbox. Also Refuge in Grief by Megan Devine. Glad to have you back, Marty.

This has felt like the longest week. I am thankful that I do not reside in a flooded area. But it has still created a tension that is so tiring. Our home has always been our sanctuary. It has taken on a whole new level since the flooding happened Monday. I have felt an even stronger desire to stay put and not go out into this troubled world. My life at home is somewhat disrupted, being that I still have some large puddles...and having three dogs, guess it is more of a nuisance disruption. But it leaves me feeling unsettled, and emotional. Today is only Thursday; yesterday felt like it should have been Friday. The news is filled with nothing but flooding reports. My heart goes out to the families that have to deal with the mess. But last night, sitting on my couch watching "The Turning Point" with my dogs nestled around me, I really ached from missing Mark. He always had a way of making me feel safe...safe on a completely different level than I feel now. I don't feel afraid...I just don't feel the comfort I did before. I have just grown so tired...

Dear Stephen, I think that is the way for most things we have to get used to. I was out and about with a friend on Saturday, and we drove passed the hospital where Mark died. It was from the freeway, not up close and I didn't cry...but it changed my mood for the rest of the day. When I got home and my friend left, it began to sink in with me. I went to my journal and started writing. Yesterday was the second time in just short of a year that we had life threatening flooding here in Houston. We were told to stay home from work; our facility stayed closed. It was surreal. Since it was the second time, and I felt safe from flooding (though not sure if it had not stopped raining when it did where things might have gone), i used my energy to keep the dogs calm. It was the second time dealing with such an event without Mark, though I imagine he was there standing by. Sometimes I like to watch something that will set off a trigger, so I can go and write about it. Sometimes watching the same movie sets off different triggers at different times. I still feel a good deal of numbness, so sometimes I have to push a little.

One of mine and Mark's favorite television shows is Grey's Anatomy. What they did at the end of last season was kill off a major character, a husband and father. That made the main character, Meredith Grey, a widow. I was in shock, but also intrigued by the direction they were taking the show. One of the first main episodes of the new season, brought everything home. There was a major flooding of the ER with older patients, and that meant some fatalities and having to inform family members. Meredith watched how the new interns were being "trained" to give such tragic news. Because she had been in the receptive position of such news, she took it upon herself to teach them a true lesson. I have never really felt compelled to write to a show, but it really hit home. The thing she told them was they were going to forever be tied to those families, that they will be the one face they clearly remember, and that they should take that responsibility seriously. It was so well written, so well acted. I know that because I have been in that position and that I completely understood where she was coming from with that scene. All the details of the morning that Mark died will forever be imbedded in my memory; something that I will NEVER forget. I know this post is about a television show, but it was also about an experience that we have all had. My heart goes out to all of us as we deal with these memories.

Marc, You could not have written about unconditional love any better. The things we would endure for the one we loved with all our heart.

Anne, That is how I am feeling today.

There are many people who have posted on different grief sites about those "Memory" posts that show up on Facebook. They do not take into consideration that lives can change drastically in 12 months. I had one of those in my face a little while back, and I too, broke down and had all sorts of emotions coming out. Never did find out if there is a way to discontinue yourself from those flashback reminders. It just proves the fact that society doesn't give a lot of thought to those who grieve. I am sorry, Kat for the insensitivity.