Froggie4635

I have an appointment for my interview for tomorrow with Erin.

I think it might be something to ask everyone. I know that grief is grief and loss is loss, but I go to the Widow Village and they have a topic of Suddenly Widowed. That one is REAL specific and I can focus specifically on being a suddenly widowed person. I know the topic would kind of cross over many topics, but it is so specific. Why do you think everyone posts in the Spouse category, even if they haven't lost a spouse (which I really felt wasn't right) is because the Spouse category gets the MOST hits and responses. I would probably spend more of my time in the sudden loss category than the spouse one. I do not know how many of our spouse posters also go to the anticipatory category. I wouldn't hurt to ask.

I was wondering if it were possible to add a topic for those who lost a loved one suddenly and unexpectedly. It might be a good area for all those who experienced to help and understand the shock. We have a topic for those who are anticipating their loved ones death...losing someone suddenly is so different. In fact, there will soon be an opportunity through Grief Diaries to add their story. I suggested it to Lynda and she added "Sudden Loss" to the list of books to be started this month. I have been in the anticipatory position, when we waited for my mom to die from cancer (it was a short 11 days); losing Mark with NO preparation was so very different, and harder to deal with. Might really like to work through that topic here on the forum.

Going over things that might have given us a different outcome in the loss of our spouses is a total waste of our healing energy. We cannot change anything. We also know that they would want us to go on. One thing that we can say in our defense of grieving as long as we need to: Yes, our loved ones would want us to go on, but they would not have knowledge as to how very HARD it would be. Yes, us younger widows do have a life with so many possibilities, but we also have a longer time to have that absence; that void that cannot be filled. Each journey is individual and some people heal quicker, move forward at a quicker pace. Timelines for grief only exist for those who are not in the midst of it. We are all entitled to grieve as deep and as long as is necessary for each of us. But one thing we need to remember is that even in our grief, we need to keep some motion forward. If we shut all the windows and doors and seal them up, pull down all the blinds and sit in the dark, how is light ever going to enter again? Of course our first response is to turn away from it...that we are grieving and there should be NO light. But in all matters of being a human being, life DOES find a way. When you are in the first deep days ,weeks months of grief, you do not wish to see it and do not feel it is right to even want it. But that little voice you hear that says, "hey, take a walk outside" comes from our loved ones trying to encourage us. When we are deep in our grief, it is harder to hear or feel them trying to reach us. We KNOW they do not leave us; who else would want to give us the comfort we need. They can't take the hurt away, but they can stay near us and keep trying to send us thoughts, and messages and something to continue to guide us. Think back (if you can) to that first time that you REALLY smiled...something brought that smile out. We were open enough, had let go of that grief for a moment or two, and they slipped in next to us and helped us see it. Their spirit no longer holds the heaviness and burdens they had while they were with us; illness and pain are gone and they are completely filled with LOVE and they want us to have a part of that, even in their absence. I am not sure where all these thoughts are coming from, but respect everyone on this forum enough to say it. Many of us lost our spouses within the same time frame. We cannot say or believe we are happy on this new journey. But there has been a moving forward, and a level of acceptance that we can live with. That is not to say that we do not find ourselves back in that dark place. Our journey will NEVER be a straight line. It does NOT mean we do not miss our loved ones each minute of every day, and would give anything to turn back the clock. We know how hard it is to want the one thing we can NEVER have. But that love we have for them still...it helps keep us going. The first question we asked right after the loss was "how can I survive without them?". The answer turns out to be "how can we not?"

Mitch, I was thinking about time this morning...I can't make myself say approaching 2 1/2 years; I still count the months. Saturday was 27 of them. Two years makes it sound so long, and it IS long; a long time to be without the person who was our world. But where did two years go? I am sure that Tammy would be (and is) VERY proud of you. She whispers each day to "keep going forward". You and everyone else on this site knows each of our journeys is individual and unique. Helping those who came after we did is a remarkable thing. Just keep doing what you do.

I think grief has given me ADHD....and I get frustrated when my focus wavers enough to make me pick something else up and nothing truly gets finished. Kay, you are right....there is such a HUGE hole in my life. I go to work every day; I did that before Mark died, so it is just a portion of my day but he still became a big part of it. What is missing are so many of the wonderful things on Anne's list...those things that make his being gone even harder. Simple things that most people might not even notice. We weren't in each others' lives for a long period of time, but the intensity of our being together filled every ounce of my being. I looked forward every noon time to his call, just to hear his voice and listen to him talk about nothing at all. When I hung up, I knew it would only be a few more hours until we would be together and could close out the rest of the world. The measurement of a "lifetime" can sometimes be so very short, but be SO full. I still only give myself tempered glimpses into how much I miss him. I can't completely absorb the idea of his being gone from my life.

Dear Cookie, That is an interesting take on things...I have often said that as hard as it is for me to be the surviving spouse, I would have hurt to see Mark grieving. So often, he would say he would NEVER be able to stay in our home if I were gone. I would have been so afraid of what would become of him. I don't like to sound like I am thinking so much of myself, but his family always tell me how I saved his life. So many of them had written him off and just waited for him to drink himself to death. I know that I brought some peace to his life (although is demons NEVER disappeared) and I could not imagine how he would handle being a widower. I remember how hard he held me the day my dog Annie had to be put to sleep. I know he loved her as much as I did, and looked at her as if she were his own. I remember him holding me up as I sobbed. I also remember how much he wanted to comfort me when my dad passed away. I think that is why I feel him around me so often...he is going to be around watching out and seeing me get stronger as the time passes. I do understand the distractions, too. I seem to keep myself moving from one thing to another...almost as if I have ADHD. My three dogs are a HUGE distraction and keep me surrounded with love.

I am also slowly learning to have joy and grief co-exist in my life. Someone said to me the other day it was so good to hear me laugh. I know that Mark would want me to enjoy my life and not hold on to the sadness of losing him. It is more probable now for people to hear me laugh, than to cry. The times that I cry are more private now, and come at strange times...when I hear something or see something that I wish to share with Mark, and he is not there. We loved the show "Parenthood" and a cable channel started running the series and Monday night was the last three episodes, and so many emotions surfaced. Mark never got to see how the series ended, but I know he would have also cried. I have been feeling so unsettled lately, and I think it started when the car went in the shop after losing its battle with the falling palm tree (thank goodness it wasn't an oak tree). Now that I have our car back, and I can sit in it and be with Mark in a way....I am feeling some of the uneasiness leaving. Today is Go Texan Day here in Houston and I am dressed head to toe in my "cowboy" duds. I bring Mark with me because he was my cowboy (even though he really detested those who only "dressed cowboy" at rodeo time). I find joy in the ways I am able to honor him with my life, but also when I find "ME" in those things I do. I know I am not ready to share my life with someone else right now; I can be okay with the solitude because I was alone so much before we met and he changed my life. Like Steven said, the ones we grieve for can and will never be replaced in our hearts or lives...but perhaps when the time is right our hearts can expand to allow new love to enter. I can't ever imagine loving someone the way I loved Mark....and I can't because Mark was Mark; with all his flaws and imperfections. Like George said, Mark loved me with all my flaws; they are what make us who we are....the good and the bad. There will never be another Mark, just like there will never be another Kathy, of Ron or Rose Anne. But they would want us to live our lives and find happiness, wherever it comes from. I hope that my blossoming writing career can touch those who grieve, but also help those who don't to understand what we go through and how drastically it changes our lives.

I guess I left out a third event that might be affecting my outlook. I am not sure if you have seen the news stories lately, but I work at a Jewish community center, and on Monday we were one of the cities that received a bomb threat. It was what they called a non-credible one, and honestly I was not afraid because I did not think there was an actual bomb in our building. We had put in a protocol and practiced it, because we felt it was inevitable that our facility would also get a call. I guess I wasn't afraid for my life, because if there was a bomb, and it went off...it would give me a chance to be with Mark sooner. I never really think about how much our building is a target, especially in these hateful times we live in...but Mark did. He was always concerned that something like this would happen. I am thankful he was not alive to see it happen; that he did not have to have a reason to be afraid.

I read these posts and hope I can share the same sentiment and give others the same encouragement when I find myself at five years. Right now, I am just passed two years and for the most part recently have found a sense of balance (though it doesn't stay for long enough). I have recently been thinking about going back to grief counseling for a time. There have been some events recently that have brought up new feelings and emotions...some that I do not like very much. It is hard to sort through them on my own. Two events have recently shaken my "balance" and have left me feeling somewhat off-kilter. One of them is a very dear friend and co-worker is leaving. He has been one of my core people; he was with me the entire day that Mark died, and has always been my rock and gave me a sense of stability here at work. We, of course, will remain friends and get together. But it will now be very different where I work. I spoke at his going away party, and it was not easy. He was there on the happiest day of my life, when Mark and I were married, and he dropped everything on his schedule to be with me at the hospital and afterwards the day Mark died. I wish him nothing but the very best as he moves on to find a new path. The other event is not something I feel able to discuss...it has more to do with how I am FEELING about it, not what happened. My personal views are MY issue, and I am trying to find a way to work through them. My whole way of looking at things and my personal principles are being tested. I have dealt very well with learning how to handle the sadness and feelings of losing Mark and never having him here again...mostly by compartmentalizing everything. I know I was still in shock at 18 months, and my brain has not yet recovered back to the way it was before Mark died. I have tried to compensate for that by simplifying things in my life...but many times it is still so frustrating for me. I have learned to take the time and be more compassionate to those who find themselves on a grief journey of their own, but I also want to have the option to have my right to grieve for as long as needed. I haven't been posting too much lately, because my thoughts change so frequently and I don't want to give mixed messages to those who need the stability of our experience. As always, I am very hard on myself.

The movie "The Rose" was loosely based on the life of Janis Joplin, so it is no wonder that is where your thoughts went, Marg. Sometimes it is hard to perceive that something beautiful can come from so much pain. Music just cuts to the heart of everything.

Today would have been our eighth wedding anniversary. I remember that day so very clearly. I was up at 4 am and realizing that plans for the day had to change, because we were to get married outdoors and it was a cold and rainy Saturday. We were not supposed to say our vows until 7:30 that evening; but since I was setting everything up (I was my own personal wedding coordinator), I had to change it up. It really didn't matter if we said our vows in a beautiful garden setting, or inside at the reception hall...I KNEW it was going to be beautiful because of ALL the LOVE we had. I remember walking into the hall, full of family and friends and my eyes meeting up with Mark's. I could see the tears of happiness there as I took his hand and we walked together to the altar that had been created in the middle of the room. I managed to keep my composure up until it was time for me to state my vows, and my voice began to tremble. I looked in his eyes and saw all that love and I Was able to finish my words before the tears of happiness fell. I LOVED (and STILL DO) being his wife. I waited my entire life for him and he was the final thing to complete my life. Things weren't always perfect, but our love was. You don't think on your wedding day that in just over five short years, your life would shatter into a million pieces. I can say that I always made sure that Mark knew how very much he was loved; he did the same. On this third anniversary without him, his absence is GREATLY present. He was truly the love of my life...and I was his. I never ever have to wonder how he felt, and that is a wonderful blessing he gave to me. I hope as the years go by, that the hurt will diminish a little. What I would not give to be able to go back in time and have him all over again. It was a wonderful, magical, romantic day FILLED with love. I miss you, Mark with everything I am.

A VERY Happy Birthday, Marty. May all your wishes come true and your blessings be many.... Maryann

As Marty said, there is no charge to participate or contribute; only if you wish to be listed as an author. As a participant, and answering the questions, you get to have a dedication to your loved one, and a bio in the back. I look at it as a way to get our loved ones story out there, and also to help other widows who find themselves where we were in the beginning. I found that reading books that had personal experience were more helpful; to know that there IS someone out there who understands and has been through what I have.

Kay, From what I have seen going over the initial manuscript, there are people contributing who are not recent widows. I think your knowledge would be very valuable. The responses can be as long or as brief as you like.

Karen... HUGS to you, my friend. Like you, I don't drink or do drugs...never been a gambler. But oh, I can SHOP!!! and I do it well and often. There is NO judgement here....

Dear Darrel, The word PITY holds some negative connotations, but it is something necessary for a grieving spouse. It is not pity, or feeling sorry for ourselves when we mourn and grieve the loss of the most important person in our lives. We MUST allow ourselves the time to go deep inside the feelings we have coming at us on a continuous basis. If you need to wallow, then by all means do it. It is necessary to help us sort out and try and process all that has happened, and what will continue to happen in the coming days, weeks, months and years. I was always hard on myself, and my grief counselor told me so, about allowing and permitting myself to FEEL my feelings and emotions whatever t hey were at the time. She had to point out to me that losing my husband unexpectedly at the age of 53 was a SHOCK to my system and a trauma to my life. Anyone who did not see it as such were not to be paid attention to. Whatever ways you can find to help you, do them. By reading your posts, you are a very intelligent man who does have a grip on the situation...but is just trying to make your way through each day. Sometimes we have to just stop and for a few minutes tell ourselves we are doing the best we can. We are all her e for you.

Marty, Thanks so much for the article. This will be my third Valentine anniversary without Mark and it might be nice to have some fresh rituals to attempt. Autumn and Nats, I am so sorry for all you are enduring. Valentine's Day has always been a very special time of year for me, and I have hope that one day it will be again. Right now, it is a future thing; only really focusing on today and not allowing myself to anticipate too much the date that is coming up. I remember when I chose Valentine's Day as our wedding day, how Mark just thought how hokey it was....but he learned to really appreciate the holiday and all it stands for. Just keep writing; it really DOES help.

Dear Gwen, My thoughts are with you at this trying time for you, but I wanted to point something out. We often talk about "signs" from our loved ones, especially when we are struggling to make it through. I believe that Steve wanted to reach out to you at this time so you can know he is with you. When I was reading your post, that is exactly what came to my mind. I wish I could find a way to give you hope that there WILL be better days. Sunday will be 26 months that my Mark is gone...there is NOT a time that I am not missing him or wishing I could turn back time to have him once again by my side. I know I may sound like a Pollyanna, and I don't want to offend you or anyone here. We have all been there for each other, and continue to reach out a hand. There are moments of joy to be had. Looking for them is use less because we hurt so very much. But our loved ones WANT us to have them, and sometimes bring them to us. Our wedding anniversary is coming up on Valentine's Day...and I am not allowing myself to look that far ahead. Today is what I allow myself to focus on. It could hold triggers, and turn dark. But right now I have hope for a good day; it has taken almost 26 months to get to this point. I wish you moments of peace that build into minutes and hours and days. We should not feel guilty for having some joy; it does not lessen the love for our spouses...it is an extension of it. That love will be with us FOREVER, just as they will. I know having their spirit with us is NOT enough...We want MORE. But to begin to heal, we must accept whatever part of them we can have. Sorry if this sounds preaching, it is not my intention. It truly SUCKS to be without our loved one...and it is not fair. I hope Steve continues to try and touch your life to help you know his love is there.

It is kind of like a new "dance" learning to allow those happy moments and bits of excitement in our lives amongst the grief we carry. I wrestle with the feeling as well. This has been a tough week, for many reasons, and I was feeling so light this morning knowing it is Friday and that I have time to focus on getting some things done now that I am feeling much better. I feel a positive force and it is confusing because I also miss Mark so very much. His absence is ALWAYS present in my life. I just learned yesterday that one of my closest colleagues, someone who is more family than a colleague resigned and will be leaving. He was what Mark called my "work husband". The day Mark died, he rushed to the hospital to be with me, and went with me to the funeral home to make arrangements. He watched my dogs when I went off to Oregon to meet Theresa Caputo. I don't think I have processed how this change is going to affect my life. I read over the struggles that so many have on here, and I should feel thankful and blessed that my life for the most part holds no serious events to deal with. Doesn't it feel sometimes when we are reveling in a good moment that we are kind of "letting go" of our loved one? The idea of actually LETTING GO and MOVING ON still terrifies me.

Got the estimate on the car yesterday... $3,318.00. Am supposed to get it back on 02/07. Have been relatively pain free most of the week, although I haven't really been pushing myself to do anything. Have a prescription for pain meds if it returns. Have two more days on steroid treatment...keeping an eye on blood sugar, but so far it seems to be maintaining correct numbers. Is low dose of 40MG a day for five days.

Valentin'e Day is our wedding anniversary, and seeing the Valentine stuff in the stores starts the dread of it approaching. I am going to try and remember all the love we had on that day we joined our lives. Mark thought it was a hokie thing to do, to get married on that day...but he saw my way of thinking after I explained it was to help him to never forget our anniversary, not that he ever would. He was so very romantic. I have a copy of the card that came with my first Valentine's flowers from him...and I have the dried petals. He got me tulips, and when I see tulips I immediately thing of him. I will look at the link and share my story.

Doctor diagnosed the sciatica...going to be on steroids for a week and will have pain meds when the prescription is filled. I need to go and see a physical therapist to see ways to keep from aggravating it (have already figured that out). Yesterday was not a good day. They came and got the car to take it for inspection, and it broke my heart to see the car being towed away. See photos below. I'm lucky; it could have been worse. It could have fallen on my house. Bright spot was rescuing the baby squirrel. The lady sent me a photo this morning of the little baby girl. I stayed at work a little longer than usual yesterday to try and catch up (between two sick days and a rain day, missed a lot of time)and by days end I was really cranky and irritated. Thursday night when the pain hit bad, and I was alone and it was really too late to call anyone, I just really cried and wandered through the house just asking for the pain to stop. I know I was alone for a good part of my life here in Texas, but once you have someone there when times are bad and you are scared, it REALLY changes how you handle it. My emotions are still all stirred up and it is hard to describe why to other people. But I am glad that I now have a plan to treat this and try and get back to where I was before everything took a tumble, so to speak.

There was an adult squirrel near the base of the tree...tree has been dead a while, but birds had been nesting there, so never wanted to take it down. Car will be fixed...glad it did not fall on house...or neighbors cars. Heard HUGE thud, did not expect crushed windshield of car. Just hoping I get sleep tonight.

Have been dealing with sciatica for about a week. Terrible winds blowing today...blew down a palm tree onto my car and crushed the windshield, knocked off passenger mirror. Found a baby squirrel in the debris,,, figured out a way to keep her warm and was able to find someone to take it and save it. A little baby girl squirrel. My emotions are bouncing all over the place...and I still have a Steelers game to watch in an hour. I was in that car earlier today, moving it on the driveway to make room for my MIL's car. Didn't want to drive to store because was afraid leg would start cramping and might make me lose control of car. Going to doc tomorrow morning for check up and to find out about my leg.