Froggie4635

Dear Butch, I am just beginning to try and catch up on posts. I am so very sorry for your losses. I do believe when you say that your dad died from a broken heart. I know also the shock and numbness that comes from witnessing and trying to save them. I know there are no words that can even touch your hurt, but know that we all care about you and hope you are doing everything to be kind to yourself. I have learned recently that taking care of ourselves has to be top priority. Sending you hugs across the wires, Maryann

I did not want to post in the Spouse forum. I know so many people are having a difficult time with grief anniversaries this month. I took some extended time off over the Labor Day weekend, just to try and rest my eyes and my spirit. The summer holidays were never a big deal for us; it was always far too hot to do anything. We basically hibernated until cooler temps. I found myself truly motivated to get some things done. I made a list of 7 things I hoped to accomplish in the five days I was off. I got to 4 of them. I felt really proud of myself for the things I did. I am also feeling the drive to get into the studio once again. Somehow, cutting paper and creating calms me (even though my eyesight is making it a little more challenging). I know Mark watches over me as I do. This health scare has shaken me up, and yet also provided some needed motivation. Even though I was feeling moments of peace and contentment, I would also quickly get aggravated when I dropped something, or I came upon a roadblock in my progress. What is written and said is so true...grief doesn't go away. I went to a party for Mark's uncle who turned 90. His siblings were not present; mostly his uncle's family/children. I felt his absence tremendously. He was my touchstone, and the social one. I missed his laughter and stories. I was glad to go because he loved his Uncle Bill, but I felt unprotected. Sometimes changes happen whether we want them or not, but taking baby steps forward is the only way. I felt proud of myself as I put myself to bed last night.

Dear Anne, Thanks It is just a major annoyance right now because I work with a computer and lots of fine print. When I use my readers, and then take them off if is just worse. I am hoping soon to have clear vision. I saw an ophthalmologist and my actual eyesight is 20/25....but until my blood sugar settles down, it is blurry city. I have made some major changes in the last 3 weeks, and have dropped 5 pounds because of it, but it makes it hard to do much that requires eyesight. I am not so bad that I am walking into walls; I can see the television and make my way around, but reading, writing, computing and anything with my Kindle are very difficult. I am taking a long weekend off work and try and rest.

Dearest Marg, I am sorry I haven't been posting, but my eyes have not cleared up yet and it is hard to read and write because focusing is bad. When my mom died, I cried at her funeral. I cried the night I found out she had cancer. But I do not grieve for her now. I believe I grieved when she had her stroke that left her in mine and my dad's care for 12 years. But, my relationship with my mom was never a warm and tender one. Mark's mom has been more of a mother to me in the years we were together, and now than my mom ever was. I am the person I am now because of what I went through with my mom. But I know it sounds harsh but I do not grieve for her. It is her critical voice I hear in my head, the one that I heard all my life. I feel bad that she missed out on the happiest part of my life. You did so much grieving while she was ill...although you did not look at it as grief. It may catch you by surprise one day as you filter through all you have been through, and continue to go through. We are here to listen and to help in anyway we can.

Dear Kim... I am so sorry for your loss. Being without the person we joined our lives with is one of the most unbearable things to go through. I am at 20 months. If your spouse passed suddenly and unexpectedly, then I would imagine you are still in that grief "fog". I know I was deep in it for the first 18 months, and did not begin to feel able to begin to make my way until just recently. I still feel I am mostly in survivor mode...but have started to find more peaceful times. I wasn't a big crier. I would have times when I was overcome; mostly when I was feeling frustrated/angry/scared. Since I went back to work pretty quickly after Mark died, I have learned to control the outpour of my emotions; but also created times that were better to get into that place and let all those emotions come out. Everyone develops their own coping mechanism; and it is unique to each and every person. There is NO incorrect way to grieve. Over these 20 months, I have learned who I can and whom I cannot share my grief with. I do know when it has been too long that I let those emotions come out...I have gauged it at about every 3 weeks or so...I then put in for a vacation or sick day to have a long weekend to rest and let myself deal with all the things I have tried to put on hold. I have recently been dealing with some health issues, and it kind of stirs up the emotions because I become afraid. All I can say is to give yourself PERMISSION to feel and do what you want at the time it is happening. This is a long journey and it will take time to adjust our lives. Please use this forum...to read, to post, to vent...to ask questions and share what you are experiencing. We are like a large, loving group who have been and continue to be moving along this journey.

Kay... I also made some cards I use for correspondence. I took plain notecards (greeting card size) and used a stencil to cut out an M from black wrapping paper, then glued it to a piece of scrapbook paper on the front. Inside the card, I cut and glued some paper to write on and then sized and cut a piece of coordinating scrapbook paper (could also use wrapping paper and glued it inside the envelope as a liner. I did the same thing when I made our wedding invitations...and I did it for Christmas cards. It gives it a little extra when it is opened. MM

Kay, The picture below is a scanned copy of one of the pieces. I printed out the square in the middle, and then matched it up to scrapbook paper the suited it most. After, I took some ribbon that matched the color and glued it around the square. I also took the same picture and then mounted it on two solid color scrapbook paper to get it to an 8 X 10 size (originally it was 4 X 6). Then I put it in a frame. It could also be modge-podged onto a piece of wood and hung on the wall. All of these started by printing out images from Pinterest. If you go onto Pinterest and do a search for a board called Losing You...I tried it and found my own board. It has my name listed.

Although I am still struggling with my blurry vision, I spent most of the weekend in my studio. I am working creatively only for myself, but it has brought me some joy. I have gone through my many Pinterest "pins" for some time, and printing out the ones that touch me, either through a picture or a saying. Many of them are about grief... the deep hurting part of it, but also the soul-stirring part of it. I print them out, and then mount them on coordinating scrapbook paper. It is fun to match them up...mash them together and come up with a new piece of art. I have put some of them in those clear sleeves with a magnet to put on my cubicle at work. A lot of the others I have mounted to black sheets and put them in clear sleeves and have them in a binder. I will use them as prompts to continue my writing...in my journal and hopefully a future blog. When I fell in love with Mark, and as our love grew...it awakened my creative soul. He LOVED to watch me create and was always in awe of what I came up with. I feel so close to him when I am doing something creative. Right now, grief is my muse. Some pins express sadness; some speak of hope and the push to move forward (not move ON). Some speak to me personally about being brave in the face of grief; some speak of allowing me to feel all the elements of grief without judging myself. Grief teaches you to go deeper inside yourself, and being creative helps me to show it to the world.

Haven't treaded into this topic for a while. I know I am no longer in the fog...I feel myself missing Mark so very strongly. I finally allowed myself to watch a movie I had purchased a while ago..."PS I Love You". In the movie, the main character Holly carries the box which holds her husbands ashes into the bedroom and sits it on the bench at the foot of the bed, then crawls into bed and continuously calls her husbands phone to listen to his message (I did that quite frequently). Mark's brother made a beautiful box to hold his ashes and it has been sitting in my foyer since the day of this service 20 months ago today. I decided that I want his ashes in the bedroom, so I took an old bedside table and sat his box there. I will see if perhaps this helps bring some peace to my days.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/courtney-fitzgerald/you-went-to-a-funeral-and-then-you-went-home_b_5412138.html This article is so wonderful.

Everything that has been said here, I completely relate to. The issue with me is I have this totally negative voice that lives in my head and instead of being supportive, tells me that I am just being lazy and unmotivated. I read the phrase empty shell, and that describes exactly how I feel. And I read somewhere else about feeling so much older now. When I was with Mark, I felt so much younger and believed I could take on the world, with him by my side. It has been 20 months and I feel like I have aged 20 years. I am a little younger in age than many people who post here, but I do not feel that way. I also understand the "selfish" term. Now, I have been declining invitations more recently due to not feeling well physically (creating some fear) and the extreme heat here in Houston this summer. Thank goodness we are now halfway through August and really only need to face September before the cooler temps come. I hope by then I will find my motivation. I watch a LOT of television (escaping) and then hate myself for wasting so much time. I just can't find the thing that will pull me out of this. I try so much to give "permission" and be understanding and accepting and allow myself...but that voice that almost tries to shame me for being so passive is VERY powerful. I don't have the strength to stand up to it; it takes everything I have to go out into the world and function at work so I can eat and pay the bills. I can say these things to you all, because you all understand, have or currently are still experiencing the same. Mark's absence is a HUGE presence in my life. I begin to wonder should I still be feeling this way. I want so much to measure myself against some chart that can let me know I have felt this way long enough, to check off the final thing that allows me to move to a different level. I am not sure who I am waiting to give me permission, to have the authority I need to tell me it is OKAY to feel sad this way, and unmotivated and stay to myself. I know I am the only person whose permission I need...and I can't seem to be okay with that. What does one do?

Dear Terri, I think we all had that conversation with our spouses at one time or another. After Mark's dad passed away in hospice, he talked about how he felt about that. He talked about how he hoped he would go...and I hate to say, but he got his wish...to die quickly and instantly. I am sure he wasn't thinking it was going to be at 53. Letting people linger in a state that is painful and scary has always been wrong in my eyes. I remember when my mom got diagnosed with cancer, and was dead 11 days later. It was some sort of miracle that the cancer affected the part of her brain where the pain was generated, because she never appeared to be suffering. She just slept a lot. There is NO good way to lose a loved one.

My heart goes out to you, Marc. You were/are a good daughter. I hope you can now feel a sense of peace.

The first article that I opened (and printed out, of course) was by Pat Bertram. The Five Major Challenges We Face During the Second Year of Grief. There is a line that just struck with me, and inside I screamed loudly YES: "The first year of yearning was hard, but somehow many of us had the strange idea that this was some sort of test and that after we passed the test, he'd pop back into our lives and we'd go on as before. Well, now we know this is no test. It's the real thing. And there is NOTHING protecting us from that great clawing yearning." Thanks, Marty.

Does anyone notice that health issues are more prevalent further down the road in your grief journey? I just passed 20 months, and I am having more issues. I am having a harder time this year handling the excessive heat. It is hot EVERY summer here in Houston, but this year just seems harder. I thought I was doing good at taking care of myself, but perhaps it just seemed like I was because of the fog of grief. It has been hard adjusting to it only being me in the house; cooking just doesn't interest me and shopping for groceries is a joke. I never end up wanting the things I bought....always want something that I do not have. I guess my question is am I just simply more aware of things now, further along, than that first year?

Dear Butch, I really understand your hurting. Thursday was 20 months that Mark has been gone and the missing just seems to keep growing stronger. I had a big scare today. I haven't written in a few days; haven't been feeling well. I took a couple days off because my body and my mind were telling me I needed a break. I have noticed that my vision has been blurry...but I have been doing a lot of computer work. But something wasn't feeling right, so I tested my blood sugar and it was up WAY high; the really scary kind of numbers. I kept trying to do things to get it to come down, but it wasn't. It really made me see that I am really alone, and that made me so afraid. I finally called a friend to take me to the ER. They kept me there and gave me an IV and the numbers started coming down. I don't think about being alone so much, because the dogs are here. But then I thought "what if something happens, that I pass out?" Then I was afraid what would happen if I ended up in the hospital; who would take care of my dogs? I didn't like feeling so afraid; and that made me feel helpless. I don't like this "new" life, not one bit.

Dear Tannn... Thanks for posting. I can only speak from personal experience, but in person is how I received the messages and was easier to believe. I recently did a phone reading with a friend who did my first reading in person, and I did not feel the connection over the phone.

Dear Polly, I can relate. Mark was a drinker. Annually we would end up in the ER with him suffering from pancreatitis or gastritis. He would be completely dehydrated and drop weight because he couldn't keep anything down. He went to the ER the Friday after Thanksgiving for the same thing, but this time mentioned he was having pains in his chest, so he got admitted. Of course when he was released he was told he needed to quit drinking. Each time he went through this, he would ask for a drug to help him with withdrawal symptoms when he tried to quit. But it was always short lived. He didn't hide his purchases very well. The morning he died, when I found him standing in the bathroom and he told me something felt different...he had taken a drink. I asked him when I went into the living room to see if he was feeling better and he admitted it. I got REALLY PO'd at the moment. But it wasn't his drinking that was his cause of death. It was actually his smoking. After he died and I cleaned out the room he had been sleeping in...I found so many bottles under the bed, and hidden in the garage. Those demons had such a strong hold on him. His dad was an alcoholic...and was his drinking buddy when he lived at home before we were married. There was a time before we were married that he tried to stop drinking; he was at my home and his hands were shaking and I asked him about it. Later that evening he called me and told me he was an alcoholic and gave me the option to walk away. But I saw beyond the illness. I knew early on that I could not make him quit; he had to do it on his own. I knew I could not threaten to leave him, because I couldn't walk away from him. I also know that if it had been me who went first, he would have drunk himself to death. I could never put myself in his place, because I did not have any addictions. It's kind of funny. When I met his mom for the first time, she asked me if I could get him to stop smoking; did not say anything about getting him to stop drinking.

In this second year, it is all about the before and after...and the never will be. Before I met Mark and I lived all alone, what kept me going was the hope that one day I would have what I wanted most. When I found it, I was so happy living in the now. We never many plans, other than where we were going for this holiday or that holiday, and I was completely content with that. Even if it was just running to get groceries, it was an adventure. When we bought our house (which was MY idea...I wanted him to have a place where he could do his woodworking), THAT became our adventure. And it was our little corner of the world. And we were content with that. There were conversations about visiting some of the places he loved...and also a trip back home to where I grew up, so he could see my past. We were never able to do any of that. Like Marg says, everywhere I look in the house, I see Mark...even though I have re-arranged some furniture and hung things on the walls. Since the fog has lifted, I see him everywhere and there is no hiding it. Every so often, I get a little stirring to escape Houston, Texas and go somewhere and start over. But, for now, I am HOME. I have a difficult time deciding what I want to eat for dinner...can't imagine trying to decide where else I wanted to live. When I was younger, and before I married, I would always get an itch to change something, or venture somewhere...to just get lost. Well, now I feel lost, but for a different reason. My home is my safe place and the place I am most likely to walk into so many memories.

Patty, I have seen people re-purpose parts of furniture. Maybe the drawers from the desks can be used in your home, to at least keep part of them with you. Early on after I lost Mark, I was eager to hand off some of his things to his siblings; so they could have a piece of him. Well, no one really took me up on it, so now if they ask, it might not be as easy to release them. Each little piece that goes hurts so much. I had been using his lip balm, the one he had for so long and he last used it when he was in the hospital a week before he passed. I ended up using something to dig out every little bit of balm, and still the tube sits on my table in the living room. I am sure there will be a way to keep some part of him in your new desk. I bought these clear desk blotters and slipped many items under them to be able to look at whenever I need it. Sending hugs to you... Maryann

Marty posted the flyer on Pinterest and I printed it out. I feel so proud that I am able to be a part of this.

Stephen, What a beautiful job you did!! Makes my work look so professional. Mark would be so proud (my Mark). It is kind of bittersweet. He used to joke with me about how rich he would get after I died and he sold all my artwork. He always had a way of making me feel good about what I was doing. Thanks for all you are doing.

Dear Gin... It is amazing sometimes that the people who are supposed to be there for us end up judging us according to THEIR time table. The person who was supposed to be my best friend "sister" turned tables on me and was hurt because I did not make comments or like her Facebook. Then she said that she loved me and understood, but that all I seemed to do was post things about grief. I guess it was her way of saying she was tired of my grief. So I basically did not respond to any more of her emails. I sent her one on Friday, acknowledging I saw a story about the place she worked, and that I have stepped away from Facebook indefinitely. Did not want her to think I merely unfriended her. The thing that bothers me is that she HAD lost a husband when she was younger than I was, and should understand. But her grief of course would be different because it was her husband and her loss. Of course you are feeling depressed...as it is your right. I keep finding all kinds of little gems in this book I keep on my desk, "hope & healing for transcending loss" by Ashley Davis Bush ... This is the one listed for July 25... "Give yourself permission to do nothing. When you're grieving, your energy goes inward and it's hard to be productive. Our society wants you to DO, but grief wants you to BE. There will come a time when energy returns; but for now, whenever possible, be still. When you can, sit with no purpose other than to just be in stillness."

I am excited to be able to contribute some things...and thanks to you, Stephen and your friend Mark for making this REALLY happen. I wish I was closer to be able to help and make an appearance.

This one is for Marty.... Once again, "hope & healing for transcending loss - by Ashley Davis Bush" has so much wisdom today, like Marty: "Two things can be true simultaneously: You can be heartbroken and bereft, and you can be filled with gratitude for the amazing love that was in your life (and still is in your life, actually). Sorrow and joy exist side by side. Both are true and both are real. Wisdom is making space to hold two opposing truths at the same time."