Froggie4635

I am 25 months into this journey. I was never a big socializer in my life; that continued into my marriage. Mark and I were homebodies. We went to work and we came home and were completely content with that. Mark did the cooking, I took care of the dogs. We sat in the living room and ate dinner...never sat at a table. We really only went to family events. The weekends were for running errands, and getting groceries. Friday night was our Whataburger night (or whatever take out we wanted). I don't make an effort to create get-togethers with friends or co-workers. I like my alone time. Staying at home, I can control the triggers. I changed my life by finally getting my driver's license...but I don't have any desire to go anywhere...other than groceries and getting to and from work. That's all I can handle now. Thinking about driving and being careful has now affected my focus (what focus I still have left). I wish I could describe what is going on with my thinking...and my forgetfulness. Today I walked passed a desk, and there was a vase of tulips on it. Tulips were the first flowers that Mark sent me for our first Valentine's Day. I have been working so hard to get comfortable with driving that I have stopped working on my grief. My best friend came over last weekend, and it was nice to see her...but she has so much going on in her life, and I don't have the energy to keep up. She likes coming to the house because it is peaceful and quiet. That is because it is a home of love...the love Mark and I had filled it to the brim. No problems could bring it down; we left our frustrations outside when we came home. Not that there was never some issues...but it never upset the peacefulness. That's because it was full of love. I have three dogs who love getting my attention, and I have a home full of projects to occupy my time. I am a solo spirit and it suits me...because it is the only choice I have. I will never be able to have the one thing I wish for...so everything else pales against that.

Darrel, If you haven't already learned it, grief does some really terrible things to our brain. There are some posts here about "widow brain"...and it is a good search to do online. I found many helpful articles. I am just passed two year out, and my ability to multi-task has never returned. Early on, I locked myself out of my house twice. I made sure I have extra keys at my disposal. One thing going for me now...since I have been driving, I have to have a key to start the car...and the house key is on the same ring. I am still not able to try and read a novel or follow a really complicated story. This site is a wealth of knowledge, and there is compassion in abundance. Grieving makes us almost hyper-sensitive. We are having to navigate new waters, and can change in a moments notice. I am sure that everyone here is so glad that you decided to keep returning.

Just getting the rest that we NEED can help us in dealing with the loss in our life. I always tried to keep it in the back of my mind that the body WILL override the mind when it came to sleep. Losing someone we love so deeply is a shock to the system, and it takes some time for the body to re-sync itself and do what is necessary to keep us functioning. I am glad you got some much needed sleep.

I just found this on Facebook, and really felt it might help explain what happens to our loved ones when they pass, and transform into spirit: The Dragonfly Story By Walter Dudley Cavert “In the bottom of an old pond lived some grubs who could not understand why none of their group ever came back after crawling up the lily stems to the top of the water. They promised each other that the next one who was called to make the upward climb would return and tell what had happened to him. Soon one of them felt an urgent impulse to seek the surface; he rested himself on the top of a lily pad and went through a glorious transformation which made him a dragonfly with beautiful wings. In vain he tried to keep his promise. Flying back and forth over the pond, he peered down at his friends below. Then he realized that even if they could see him they would not recognize such a radiant creature as one of their number. The fact that we cannot see our friends or communicate with them after the transformation which we call death is no proof that they cease to exist.”

Dear Darrell... I am glad you have decided to continue here. We all learn from each other here. It is good to have a place where we can find validation about things we are going through, and especially things we experience...things we might not feel comfortable sharing with someone who has not lost the most significant person in their life. As my journey has brought me out of the grief fog I felt was so overwhelming, I can clearly and rationally think things through (although it still takes a bit and I can't be trying to juggle too many things mentally when I do), and I have come to the idea that while we are deep in our grief, and it is hard to think of and deal with OUR emotions...we must also realize that the ones that we lost must also be in some way grieving at the separation from us. The benefit that they have, is their spirit can come and linger around us, and feel a connection to us in the best way THEY can. That bond of love cannot be broken and I am pretty sure if they had the choice of whether they were leaving us or not, the choice would be obvious. Our adjustment is learning to live without their physical presence....that loving person we had with us every day. It really sounds cliche, but someone really cannot understand it until they experience it. Without going into a lot of detail, there was a scene in the show "This Is Us" where an actress was trying to get across to her acting partner what it would be like to lose someone. It wasn't shown, but they were intimate as a couple. Then she questioned him later about how what they did made him feel. When he talked about the connection between them and how it was really good...she then said, "Now know you will NEVER have that again." She was playing his dead wife in a play and she was trying to teach him about grieving. I know it sounds simple, but I got what she was trying to teach. I guess what I am trying to say is there is much to learn here, and many, many wonderful and understanding members who can help, and listen, and be of comfort.

Yesterday was another first. I attended a staff outing, and our tables were assigned so that we were with staff we did not interact with very often (took us out of our department groups). Well, I didn't really know the lady sitting next to me. In my mind, I was thinking I needed to tell my story about losing Mark, but something stopped me. I did not feel it was a necessary topic. I guess my being a widow wasn't relevant, so I did not feel the need to bring it up. I guess it was my first time stepping out without putting on the widow cloak. Part of me hurts, because in some small way I feel I am denying my relationship with Mark. I spoke of him numerous times...especially since part of the outing was bowling. Mark and I had talked about going bowling many times. The triggers seem to have softened. It could be that I am now giving so much focus to my new driving skills. My widow brain is working overtime.

Before I set out on my new driving adventures, I burned a CD with songs that helped keep Mark close. Some were songs we had shared together; some were songs that he shared with me...some were new ones that bring him to mind whenever I hear them. It gives me comfort as I start out every morning. I also have his jacket sitting in the passenger seat, and his sunglasses on my visor, over my head. I haven't really let myself think about how significant this step is, and all the things it represents. Most people would not see it as such a big deal....EVERYONE drives a car. But it marks a HUGE leap in my journey. If I had never met Mark, I probably would not have taken this step. I believe he knows. I try not to focus on his absence, but there are times and events that make it so very present. Music has always been a thing for me...it keeps the journey moving; it helps to give fullness to whatever I am feeling at that moment.

The problem is that so many people buying the "condolence" cards haven't really suffered a great loss. Those who have, well, they know when they read what is available, that the phrases and meanings just do not capture the right thing. I find so many things listed on Pinterest that say they are sympathy cards, really DO know the right things that need to be said. I save them on my board...it sounds like something that perhaps needs a market.

It is time for me to return to work after a long New Year's break...and it feels like a whole new world for me. My world changed when I passed my driving test. It is still hugely overwhelming...and adds some additional pressure, but in a good way. I feel more confident, and know that Mark rides along with me. His jacket sits in the front seat. The morning I prepared to take my test, I asked him to please be with me. When I was preparing to pull out of the driveway, his clip on sunglasses jumped from the visor and bopped me in the forehead...his little way of letting me know it was going to be fine. I had taken a couple short little jaunts, taking advantage of the sparse traffic. It feels good. Only those people who are close to me know how big a step this is for me. I just wanted to end 2016 on a very big up note. Know that when you make big changes, our loved ones are there with us, and are so proud of all we are doing.

Just wanted to share the news to all my friends here...I PASSED MY DRIVER'S TEST!!!! It hasn't really hit me just yet, but I wanted to share the news.

Dear Patty... I have been wondering how you trip was going. I took a sabbatical from Christmas this year. I went and spent time with my mother-in-law Christmas morning, because I knew that she wasn't going to have any visits from her children...they all have families, and the older children no longer wish to leave their Christmas to go and be at grandmother's house. I did not go to the annual Mueller get-together. One of the only things I loved about being with SO many people, was watching Mark interacting with his siblings and all their children. I loved seeing the enjoyment he got from it. Now that is gone, and it just makes his absence so much bigger, and I just felt I needed to avoid it. The wreath that my mother-in-law placed on my front door will be coming down pretty soon. It's funny now when we find or look upon a photograph we haven't seen in a while, or never saw before, that for a few seconds, you feel the excitement of them being here.

We all know how feelings and emotions can roller coaster up and down, even within a 24 hour period. I feel awful because I don't want to participate in any of the holiday, but I also get angry because of the expectations that it places on my life. I do NOT deny anyone happiness and feelings of good will this time of year, but it's approach has been going on now long enough. On top of doing my hardest to maintain an even keel while working and not let emotions and feelings interfere, add in all the hullabaloo of the holidays and all the anticipation; it leaves me just empty by weeks end. I know it is not a good feeling, but I am upset with all the wishes that will come true this season; I know that my wish will never come true, and there is no gift or get together that can erase that feeling. I try and do things for myself, and things to honor the love I still have for Mark. And some moments are very light and come close to almost joyful. But so much of it is an effort. I went and saw "Collateral Beauty" this passed weekend, and am still processing it internally. It didn't make me feel good; it didn't make me feel sadder. I let myself get lost in the story. I was upset by all the very critical comments about it. People who have never lost someone close to them, a life changing loss, can't understand some of the significance of the movie. I just passed two years without Mark, and I still had to finalize his existence. He received a jury summons. I contacted the court that it came from, and their answer to my inquiry was to write "deceased" across the front and to mail it back. I agree with grief as love with no place to go. Life goes on, and I try and go along with it, best that I can. But I am still only exposing myself to the hurt of being without Mark a little at a time. It's all we can do.

Dear Anne... I understand every word you wrote here. I am still learning how to dose my grief. I am sure Jim is so proud of all you have done without him. That is not to say he isn't around. I am sure they are missing us as much as we are missing them. Soul connections will never be broken. If I was there, I would give you a hug...

Last night I spent almost two hours with a driving instructor, sort of as an evaluation...more as a confidence booster. I had to stop because my widow brain was beginning to shut down and could no longer focus, but I did manage to parallel park 4 times. I was even doing it in my head when I laid down to bed last night. I felt good about myself and ready to go and take my test, which I scheduled for 12/30. I am still not wanting to be a participant in the holiday season, but my mother-in-law had a Christmas wreath with cardinals made and came and hung it on my door. (It's coming down 01/02). I am making plans with a friend to go and see "Collateral Beauty" this weekend. Ever since I saw the trailer, I knew I wanted to see it...like I NEED to see it. This morning I had to put out some heavy trash, something that Mark used to do. Lots of swinging emotions going on...laughing hysterically at a hula lady on my friends dashboard, to feeling a rush of sadness thinking about how badly I am missing Mark and dealing with it being two years since I have seen him, touched him, talked with him. It feels like so much going on...like my life is beginning to hit hyper-speed. At this moment I would rather be home with the fur babes than trying to do my job.

Gwen, I purchased that book, also. It is very good, even if you only read a little at a time. I was thinking about the movie I suggested, and something in it that really helped me. The gist of the story is the main character gets letters that were written by her late husband, to help her move forward as she grieved his loss. I don't want to give away anything, but there was a line from one of the letters that REALLY helped me... " If you can promise me anything, promise me that whenever you’re sad, or unsure, or you lose complete faith, that you’ll try to see yourself through my eyes. " It helped me to think of Mark telling me the same thing...that he understood I would be sad or unsure and not know what to do next, or question why, instead of all the people telling me that Mark wouldn't want me to be so sad, and he would want me to go on without him. I know my husband would be selfless enough to want that for me...but to think of him understanding my sadness enough to tell me to try and see myself as he saw me. It really hit me when watching.

I guess I am completely the opposite. I LOVE my routine and being alone. I guess there is no wanderlust in my soul. I still only focus on the present day, not looking too far down the road. I am very fortunate that I have a job that now rarely brings me any stress. I do get to a point, though, where I lose my concentration ability and I know it is time to take a break; usually every three weeks or so. I do have times when things are just creeping along, and the day seems so long. But I also have three dogs who seek out interaction almost all the time. In the very early times of grief, hunkering down in my home, my safe place, was the most important and necessary thing for me. I have trouble stepping outside the routine that is my life. Socializing isn't something I think about. We were such homebodies. Staff meetings practically shut me down. Big groups overwhelm me. Maybe I am so different from many on here because I am still working, which occupies a good 40 plus hours every week. When I get home and tend to the dogs, get a bite to eat for myself...evening falls and I am usually ready for bed by 8:30 (I get up before 5 am). Yesterday I allowed myself to avoid any mandatory tasks that needed done. It was rainy and chilly. I put on a warm sweater and Mark's slippers and did whatever my heart wanted. I wrote, and worked in my studio, shuffled through paper and organized things some. This morning it was cold and rainy, and I wished I was able to stay home...but duty called.

Dear Gwen, I can tell you something that was part of what has helped. The film "PS I Love You". The first time I watched it, I really cried because I felt the pain of the main character, Holly. But I began to watch it multiple times, and I began to see how the other characters each helped her. I now know it enough to recite lines from the movie. It had nothing really to do with how the spouse died, or how long they were together, or how old they were. It was about her, Holly, and how the loss of her spouse affected her and the aspects of her life and how her spouse helped her along her journey. I highly recommend it.

Today is a very solemn day. I do not write this to make others sad, or to seek sympathy. Two years ago, I lost the love of my life. A wonderful man full of life, happy, oh, so funny and smarter than anyone I had ever met before in my life. The only thing, he said, that was missing in his life was love. He was good at loving me, and he gave me the greatest joy. He was my rock; my other half. He could make me see things in a very different way. He loved his family and w...as true to all the things in his life. He wasn't perfect, but who of us can say we are. He had his struggles, and the only good thing about his loss is that he doesn't struggle with them anymore. There continues to be a very large hole in my life that is Mark shaped. How could I not feel such a void? He deserves to have his story told, and his memory kept alive. The world is a lot duller without him here. He was my very best friend and taught me so many things, one of the most important was how to accept love. He was the answer to all those prayers about finding someone who would love me for me; someone who would accept all the love I had to give. He did, and gave it back a hundredfold. He had the biggest heart. He has a large family that is missing him, too. My heart hurts for them. It is hard each day to want something I cannot have...to have him walking through the door, whistling one of his tunes and looking at me with those wonderful eyes. I am thankful that I have no regrets when it comes to our love. I have peace in the fact that Mark KNEW he was loved. I always made it a priority...to make sure that a day did not go by without him knowing how I felt. I don't shed as many tears as I once did. That does not mean that I don't feel the tremendous void his loss has left in my life. I work every day to keep myself from slipping into the abyss. I smile more now, and have found ways to find joy, mostly in the things I do to honor Mark. I keep him actively in my life in whatever way feels right. He would smile at some of the ways. I am not sure when I turned that corner of not wanting to feel sad all the time. Nothing has changed in my life. I still go to work at the same place, and live in the same home. I still only have my three wonderful furry children, who make sure I know they love me. Perhaps I have learned how to wear the badge of widowhood, how to carry that weight. It does not mean I have given away my right to fall down into the mud and wallow in my hurt. I can't explain where the shift came from, but I wanted to share. Perhaps my heart has finally heard the whispers from Mark to try and find joy and know that he is with me for the rest of my days; that I no longer need to hold so tightly, afraid that I would forget. I would STILL give anything to be able to have him back, but have accepted that is not a possibility. I feel for those who are just beginning their unwanted journey, but hope to be a sign that there will be light again. It is not my intention to shower everyone with rainbows, so please do not be hurt by my words. I would hate that. I have avoided posting until now for that reason. Peace be with you all.

Today would have been Mark's 55th birthday...and I miss him as much today as the day he died, two years ago on Sunday, December 4. Two years ago I went from the highest of high, first celebrating a successful staff luncheon that my darling husband helped me prepare for, and was beaming with pride for all the work I had done, to a small but very warm birthday celebration with his mom; a simple steak dinner and his favorite cheesecake dessert...to the completely devastating, sudden and unexpected death that Thursday morning. The sadness is not as intense this year. I've had a year's worth of practice to keep the emotions just under the surface. I still wanted to take time to seclude myself away for a bit, to let the memories flow freely, both happy and sad. I feel the same, familiar energy around me that I associate with Mark's presence. I have felt it growing stronger the closer December came. We are expecting some very bad weather this weekend; a good chance to immerse myself in the things I wish to do. I continue to write, which leads to sorting through the feelings and emotions. I I fight the feeling of wanting the one thing that I can NEVER have; the return of my wonderful Mark...the light of my life. I don't talk about how much I miss him, because that never lessens the least little bit. I have daily distractions that help it not be the only thing to focus on. Two years have come, and gone...and I still cannot believe it. Time both moves ahead, and stays in place simultaneously. I smile when I think of the surprise party I threw for him on his 50th birthday, how he ruined the surprise by was completely blown away at my ability to pull it off; he had NO clue. I loved seeing him soaking up all the attention from family and friends...I loved giving him that moment (does that sound a little selfish?). It gave me GREAT joy to see him happy, and loving his life. I know I had something to do with that. But he did the same for me. We were so perfect for each other, both so ready to lose ourselves in a love that we both had waited for, for our entire lives. Two years ago he was still alive, and reveling in the moments. He was living and breathing...laughing and smiling and, oh yes, TALKING to anyone who would listen how proud he was of his wife. I know he left this Earth a man who had found contentment. I only wish I could have had more time. We loved each other every single minute we were together, and NEVER took that for granted. It is a blessing for me that I have no regrets in that regard. He left me so suddenly, that I did not get to tell him goodbye. But I wouldn't have said GOODBYE. Just one more I Love You to add to the collection. The pain of no longer having him is like a sharp knife against my heart. I'll never be able to turn around quickly and catch him walking around the corner. These are things I reflect on...two years later. Happy Birthday, my love.

Dear Harry, I completely understand your sense of accomplishment. I recently took some time off work (thanks to the many Jewish holidays) and worked on some projects that I have wanted to finish for so long. The main thing I wanted to do was to do my best to remove my grief from my art studio, and try and create once more. I had been keeping everything to the one room: my journal writing, my grief books and articles all sitting on my studio table. I kept shuffling stuff from one side to another and I wrote and did my creative grief work. But I knew the only way to really allow the creativity to flow was to extricate the grief portion and place it somewhere else. Well, the only room I thought would be appropriate was the front bedroom; the place where Mark slept. It had been simply a catch-all since he died, and I really did not like that. So I began first by organizing the closets in the hall, so I could move and store some things away there. Then I had to make room for my grief library, so I cleared out some of the books that could be donated. I cleaned off the top of the desk Mark had brought from his childhood home and began to find places for all my writing paraphernalia, especially the pens he had made by hand. Half of the room is done, and I moved the office chair I had in the studio into that new "office". Once I had completely freed up the studio, I started on a project for my bedroom, based on some beautiful Hawaiian fabric I found on eBay...something I KNOW Mark would have loved and would have wanted to make a shirt from. I began going through all my paint chip colors, cautiously matching all the hues I found necessary for a piece. I then went on a shopping excursion to find the perfect frames. In a matter of a couple days, I had completed 7 coordinating pieces, and it felt really good. Mark LOVED to see me creating, and I know he would have enjoyed seeing me in there once again. Don't get me wrong, I am STILL missing him so much that it catches me in my throat, but I am integrating it into my life. When moving some items out of the closet, I came across the sign-in book from our wedding. I opened it and began to read the names and remember that day, and it hurt so bad...but I also could smile and remember just how very special that day was; all the planning that went into it, and all the LOVE it represented. I know that will NEVER go away. I would give ANYTHING to have him back, as I know we all would wish for ourselves. But life DOES go on. Each step we take brings us a little further along. I will try and post some photos once I get everything hung on the wall.

Sad emotions are not the only things that bubble under the surface. I had myself a nice little outburst at work because the cleaning crew threw away my empty water bottle. I know I should just bring a refillable water bottle from home once again. When the person at work whom I made my complaint to suggested that I put the empty bottle in the cabinet over my desk...I lost it. I was angry because I shouldn't have to REMEMBER to put my empty bottle away so it doesn't get removed from my desk. They don't really clean the desks anyway, given the large dust bunnies lurking behind my monitors. I know it is more than losing an empty bottle...but I still blew my top like a tea kettle. I think I am involving myself in too many things ,and dealing with changes that are overwhelming. I am still trying to get my blood sugar under control, so that my vision will get better....and the changes I have made to my diet should be resulting in weight coming off....but it is NOT and I am frustrated because now I can't eat those things that brought me comfort and the end result is LOTS of built up anger. I used to tell Mark that I rarely got angry; that when I acted MAD, it was usually because I was scared. So now I am wondering am I afraid? Things have been going along at a very good clip, and for the most part I have been doing well. But I also know that summer is ending, and with the fall comes all those BIG dates. Mark's mom was having a plumbing issue, and it just reminded me that he is not here to do all those little things. UGH...

This looks so fabulous...I'm starting to get excited (and a little nervous).

Marg... I can't really remember the last time I saw midnight, unless I had been asleep and woke up at that time. Early on, I would find myself up in the wee hours, make my way to the computer and look out at the world, so to speak. This latest health scare has kind of prodded me to be more motivated in my waking hours. I still tend to put some things off, but I am finding that I feel proud of what I do accomplish...which then pushes me to do more. I have three furry interruptions most times, but I like feeling that I did something. I know it could be one of those grief respites; but I might as well try and take advantage. I think the day that I pounded those nails in that plywood on my fence jarred something loose, made me feel capable once again. Take care of yourself, Marg.

Babe is a sweet movie. There are always sad bits in any film that involves animals...but it makes you want to go and get a pig. It is not sad like Charlotte's Web. I think you will find yourself rooting for Babe. I stopped Facebook too. A friend made a comment about what I posted and it hurt my feelings; so I deactivated my account. I got tired of the whole "liking" part of it. I haven't been on it in months and don't really miss it much.

Babe is a very sweet movie, although there are some dark undertones that adults would get but not children. I've been watching PS I Love you over and over again. There are so many scenes that I can relate to. I liked it so much that I purchased the soundtrack. It has Kathy Bates in it, who I adore. Today at work we were allowed to wear our NFL shirts to support our team. Our Executive Vice President is a BIG Steelers fan, as am I, so he really likes to do things like this for staff morale...and we look forward to it. It is kind of bittersweet for me. I LOVE my team, but miss having Mark to root along with me. He grew up here in Houston and the Oilers were a big rival. I like to think that those many years ago we were both watching the same games because our teams were in the same division. I am letting a little of ME come out by wearing my gear, hesitantly. I don't want people to think I am OVER my grief by being me.