Froggie4635

I guess in many respects I have gotten through this loss mostly unscathed legal-wise. There are no children and the only assets we shared were the house and the car. The car has been titled to me as the surviving spouse; the house still has his name on the deed. I have had the struggle of losing half my income, but still have the same bills, plus now I have to buy groceries and pay for the car, gas, insurance...I had some bills of Mark's that I had to take care of. Been thinking about re-financing the house; been in it 6 years this September. There are items that were Mark's that I have offered to his siblings; no one is in a hurry to claim them. The only thing that I really fret over is that Mark's piano is at his mom's house....he lived there before we were married. My issues I guess arise when something needs taken care of at the house...cutting the grass, the garage doors will not go up, the fence needs some work. When we bought the house, I had no worry about things being taken care of...Mark could do it all. Now I look around the house and even if I wanted to make changes to anything, I don't have the will or the heart. It is just not the same without him there to be a part of it. It was OUR home; now it is only MY home. I still love it. Knew it was the right place the moment we walked through the door. But something is missing...there is NO HEART anymore.

For June 6 in the book "hope & healing for transcending loss" by Ashley Davis Bush: "Grief is an invisible wound. You know that you are hurting and suffering, but you mostly look "just fine." You go through the motions of living - you show up for work, pay the bills, feed the pets, get up the next day. People might even praise you for "doing so well." What they may not realize is that you are broken inside, totn asunder. But know that healing will start to happen, bit by bit." Today - Pay attention to what is going on inside you, underneath everything that looks "fine".

I admit that there is a small part of me that is still waiting for Mark to return. I kind of feel I am in a "waiting" period...like he is "away" and will be home soon. I know reality, and Mark's coming back is NOT part of it; so why am I still looking for that? Why am I still just treading water at 18 months? I busy myself most times; but there are times I just sit and can't decide what I want to do next. There are MANY things that need done in the house...all I need to do is just START. But instead I watch television, pet the dogs and watch the clock. I don't ask people over because I just don't feel like entertaining. When Mark was alive, there were MANY times we just sat around...but he was here and I was in his presence and I didn't care. I was happy. Not even sure what that word means any more.

Coming to close on a very bittersweet day. It is 18 months today that Mark died, and it is one year that I had my wonderful trip to Eugene to meet with Theresa Caputo, to receive some messages from Mark. Also, tonight in Houston, Jimmy Buffett is playing (Mark's favorite). I spent the day just doing little things around the house. The dogs are so very tired of all the rain. Saying 18 months sounds like so long...but it has hardly felt like any time at all. I've grown tired of saying how much I miss him...

I haven't really thought about guilt in regards to Mark's death. He smoked and that contributed to his death. Like Brad said, the tense we are in is the only one we have control over. Mark was ill for Thanksgiving and we were in the ER the Friday after. It was one of his "cycles"...gastritis due to his drinking. Throwing up and not being able to keep anything down....I told him that we were not going to let it go on like before. Mark did not have insurance, so that meant a big payout each time he had one of his "cycles". This time, he told them that he was having pains in his chest. I didn't think it was anything more than esophageal spasms. They admitted him into the hospital, but released him the next morning. Once they got his stomach settled, he seemed much better. That Tuesday, December 2...his birthday, he was here at work helping me decorate for our luncheon. He was so excited to be a part of it; here he was climbing up and down ladders...did he push himself too much? That Thursday morning, when I woke to find him in the bathroom looking scared and telling me that what he was feeling was "different"...it makes me feel awful that the first thing I thought about was the cost if we ended up in the ER again. I NEVER thought that it was coming....that death was coming. On the way to the hospital, following behind the ambulance, my thought was what the rehab he was going to need was going to cost. What a HORRIBLE thing to be thinking about. I know I did everything I could do to keep him alive, because he still had a pulse and faint heartbeat when EMS arrived. Do I have second thoughts over what I was thinking that morning...you bet. I wasn't prepared for the outcome...and the reality is that nothing can change it. NOTHING. One thing I have NO REGRETS about is that I made sure that Mark knew EVERY DAY that I loved him...that I loved US. Unconditionally.

Mitch, If you want to do something to honor Tammy...why not put the caricature in a nice frame and add it to any new decor.

Dear Kay, Wish I could record you saying that, and play it for myself when I forget just how traumatic this has all been. Why is it so easy to listen to and believe the harsh things we are told, and tell ourselves...instead of the reality of how hard this is and that patience and kindness are needed. I admit I am VERY hard on myself, and say terrible words to myself. It is kind of like riding Space Mountain. You are in the dark whirling around at high speeds, and only every so often you get a glimpse of light to kind of situate yourself for the moment. Repeating a manta might work...but I have never been a person to do that.

I just made an observation of myself. When Mark was alive, we would talk all the time. All I ever wanted was to hear his voice ,listen to his thoughts and take in all of who he was. I didn't care how many times I had heard the story; I listened intently, because it was HIM telling the story. I gave him a hard time sometimes about all the corny jokes he told...asked him if someone long ago gave him a corny joke book. I couldn't get enough of the words and the sound. Now, when someone calls me to chat, it is like I just am not even a part of the whole conversation. I try and listen with interest. A lot of times I am just waiting for them to stop talking and to let me go. I hope it doesn't sound terrible. My phone calls to people are short and sweet. I know that sounds so self-absorbed that I don't want to give people the attention that a long conversation on the phone needs. Most times I just do not have much to contribute to the conversation. But Mark's absence makes me so much more aware of this.

Mitch, I let my fingers fly when my thoughts are clear...it is in the "fog" that I really pace myself. I feel today is a good day for sharing...it helps and heals.

Dear Heather, Please let all those wonderful people in your life shower you with all the love possible. This is time when you are in the deepest need of receiving. There will come a time when you won't feel so empty, and in fact will find yourself giving help and hope to someone else in need.

Dear Mitch, George & Stephen... Am so grateful to have you wonderful men amongst the posters here. Kind of gives everything so many different perspectives. I can relate to the things that Marg posted. Sex was not really an aspect in our marriage. Mark had some issues and he felt he was failing me because he couldn't be intimate. I told him in no uncertain terms that I did not care. I told him I was satisfied with all the affection he bestowed on me, and it was really kind of nice and simple. It took me quite a while to reassure him, but I kept at it, I wanted him to understand that the love I felt for him and for us was on a level that took care of everything. Like I said in my first post here...the one thing, the first thing I really liked about him was he was a gentleman...not just someone looking to score. I told him that I never felt I was sacrificing anything...and Marg is right. HUGS were the BEST.

Dear Gin, The definition of JOY changes for someone who has lost a spouse. I can honestly say that the last time I felt true joy was before Mark died. There are things that will make me laugh, that will lift my spirit for a short time... but I do not believe I have reached a state of JOY in a long time. I think one of the first questions in our group (after we finally had everyone show up and there were no new people to meet and hear stories) was what one thing has helped you the most. My answer was my dogs...because I have to take care of them first thing in the morning, so I don't wake thinking about or missing Mark right off the bat. I am still trying to find out who I am also...

Dear Heather, I am so sorry for your loss, but I am glad that you found us. I came here when I was about 2 months in; now I am approaching 18 months (and it doesn't feel that long). There are many, many posts with so much information and stories shared. If you feel up to it, just read the things people post and you will see that NORMAL is different now. Sudden death is a shock...I lost my husband sudden and unexpectedly to a heart attack. In about an hour from when I called 911 to when he was taken to the hospital, he was gone. I lived in a continuous deep fog for about 14 months. The most important thing you can do is to take care of YOU. I know it gets overstated sometimes, but it takes more strength (physical and mental) than anyone can know to deal with the grief of losing our spouse. It affects every aspect of who you are. We have a very good group of people here...many at different stages, who will share their story and help you understand this new world you are a part of. Rest as much as you can because it is essential. Hugs to you... Maryann

Dear Dawn, I am so sorry for your loss, and sad you have to be here with us...but this is a good place to be, for there are many here who will walk along with you. I lost my husband, Mark, in December 2014. It is not the life I ever pictured for myself, but I am in it. I found this site the February after he died, and I am so thankful I did. This is a place you can share WHATEVER it is you are experiencing, and everyone here will help you through it. Your life is going to seem unreal for quite a while; it is the shock of having everything you knew completely obliterated. But know that you ARE standing. There will be lots of learned experience offered to you. Number one is to TAKE CARE OF YOU. And also that whatever you are going through, is NORMAL. Read as much as you can about grief and loss of spouse. You will see in those books and articles just how normal what you experience truly is. Rest as much as you can, and eat and nourish yourself. Those are really BIG steps in the beginning. There are NO rules in grief. There are many archived posts here to read over and see yourself in. I know I found so much comfort coming here. We all wish your pain didn't exist, but we know the reality of it. Come often, even if it is just to read along. There is love and understanding here...but no judgment. Sending you BIG HUGS. Maryann

Great choice for a topic, Mitch. Like you, I was a bachelor until I married Mark in 2009. We met in a Texas chat room one lonely Sunday. I used to try my hand at dating; nothing significant ever happened. I have always been somewhat of a solo person. I had lots of responsibilities growing up, and not a lot of happiness. I had a few close friends. My life changed for the first time when my mom had a stroke at the age of 55 (I was 24). For twelve years, my life revolved around working part-time and helping to care for my mom. My family expected a lot from me, including giving up MY life so they could continue on with theirs. One thing that did come from it, was that I was able to come to terms with my relationship with my mom, and in a way forgive her. When she died, after a very short battle with cancer, I stayed to watch over my dad. My heart aches now for him, because I NOW understand the hurt he was having at the loss of his wife. My dad did not talk much about anything. When I saw he was getting somewhat dependent on me for his social life, I knew that I needed to go and find MY life...after all, I had put it on hold for like 15 years. So, I took a HUGE leap of faith and moved to Texas. I managed to find a job (still at the same place now, but changed departments about 5 years ago) and a place to live. I was okay being alone, but was lonely and wanted to finally have love in my life. Three years later, enter Mark. He was very different than any of the guys I had met...he wasn't interested in sex right off the bat. He LOVED conversation, and he was good at it. We chatted for about a month before we met physically...even though he only lived about 5 minutes from me. He was cautious; I was hopeful. Once we met in May 2006, I knew there was something really special happening. He was VERY intelligent, but had lots of self-doubt. He had some personal issues (he drank). He never tried to make me feel sorry for him. And oh, could he make me laugh. I found out later that he let me give him HOPE. And that was all that was needed. I never sugar-coat anything. His problem made things difficult sometimes; all I wanted was to help him...but I learned he had to help himself. Up until the day he died, he was never able to walk away from it; but he never let it get out of hand. When he finally confessed to me that he was an alcoholic, it was his way of giving me an out early on. I didn't take it. I loved him. And continue to do so. What fills my days now? I work. I went back to work less than a week after Mark died. It isn't always a stressful job, but it has its moments. I don't handle the stress well at all now, without my rock. I have three dogs...all around the age of three and they occupy most of my free time at home. They want love and interaction, and I believe they are a HUGE saving grace. They are the reason I have get out of bed in the morning without a head filled with thoughts of Mark. I go into the office early (7 am) and am home by 3:30. But most times I get home and just crash. It takes a lot of energy to focus all day...to continue to do my job at the same level as before my loss. I am part of a team, and it is important that I keep up my part of that. By Friday, I am drained. I am okay for about three weeks, then need a longer break...because my brain gets tired of making myself live without Mark. Like Mitch, I was truly independent...and even after I met Mark, I still had my independent spirit. I think that is how the greatest marriages work; each person is an independent individual first. We know WHO we are before giving ourselves to someone else. But something happens when you join your life with another person. You merge and mesh into ONE. It is even part of the vows you make...two become one. Still acting independently, but as a team. And we were good at it. Although, we were only married just over 5 years...the love we had was VERY deep. We saw in each other that missing piece. It was true soul mates. We LOVED learning from each other. We had each others back. And if I close my eyes, and picture his face...I STILL get butterflies. I watch a lot of television; it keeps me company. I push myself to work around the house...most times it is futile because I really have no URGENCY. Mark gave me a gift by loving me. His love helped give me the courage to release my creative inner person. She disappeared around the time my mom had her stroke; and she did not really re-appear until Mark proposed to me. I planned and created everything for our wedding (except the food...lol). I started by doing the invitations, and the programs. We worked on the ceremony together. I wanted EVERYONE in our presence on that date (Valentine's Day...Mark initially thought it was HOKEY to marry on that day, but later REALLY saw the light) to FEEL the love we had for each other, and hope that it would make them realize the love THEY had in their lives. It was a first marriage for both of us... in our mid forties. My creative energy continued to blossom after we married...and Mark was always my biggest fan. When I asked, he would critique, but always in an encouraging way...a way that helped my vision become even clearer. I am beginning to feel HER stirring inside again...and when my focus is better, I will once again try and create. Till that time, I indulge her in ways that help move her along. And I know that Mark is helping with that. The night before he died, he was beaming with pride over my last creative endeavor. It is easier to think of that now, than the next morning when my life changed AGAIN. Do I miss him? Well, you all know THAT answer. Every waking moment I am in the presence of his absence. And it hurts; and I ache...for the sound of his voice and his laughter....for the touch of his hand, For the unending support he gave me EVERY DAY. I'm okay being alone ( but then who is alone with three dogs in the house). But I miss being Mark's bride.

Marg, I have a big folder full of articles I have printed out...I want to go through them all and highlight the thoughts and phrases that I need to absorb to teach me to not be so hard on myself. I have this gift for research; it gives me something to focus on. I would love some day to collect all my thoughts and put them on a blog, or write a book. I think part of this grief education could be of help to others someday. I remember how lost I was at first, overwhelmed by so much information. Perhaps it is something I am being called to do.

I decided I needed to change my screensaver at work. I used to have all these beautiful pictures and sayings that I found on Pinterest all over my cubicle. But I found that I did not really take time to look at them...so I removed them and took them home to put into a book. Instead, I saved the ones that were more visual and added them to my screensaver, mixed in with photos of Mark. I try and indulge my creative side while honoring Mark in whatever ways I can. I will never get new photos of him, so I wanted to add some sentiments that were tied to him, and how I am dealing with losing him. I am encouraged by the strength of this creative drive I have inside. I know it was something that Mark enjoyed...he LOVED seeing what I created and my process; just as I loved watching his when he turned his pens. His love is what helped free this part of me...and I will honor him until I die using it.

Marg, There are MANY articles about Grief Fog...and the affects on the brain. Megan Devine had a great article about it. I collected quite a few so I could "show" myself that I wasn't making all this up. Losing Mark has had a PROFOUND affect on my brain and how I function. I find myself in a very frustrated state when I am bombarded with multiple requests/tasks and cannot juggle them like I used to. I have about a three week limit. My mind knows when I am approaching that limit, and begins to shut down and not want to think about anything but getting away. It takes a toll on my physically, and I find my exhaustion level rises the closer I get to three weeks. I am concerned that it might get worse now that I am halfway through my second year. The protective fog is gone, and now on top of all the widow brain stuff, memories are popping up more often, leading me to miss Mark so much I can't breathe. I haven't really allowed myself to deal with the anger of never seeing him again...about having to do it against my will. Most of my life, if I wanted something, I worked at getting it. But I have never had to deal with not being able to have something; something that there is no substitute for. We are all in that boat...having to find a way to deal with a lie without the one person who filled our lives with love.

Marg, That is widow brain. I have a HUGE case of it. At least I no longer lock myself out of my house (because I have spare keys in three different locations). It has nothing to do with age, because I am 54 and have always had the GREATEST memory. But not any more.

Dear Mitch and Marty... I am always thankful to have you all to come to when things go topsy-turvy...who understand the difficulties that sometimes arise from no where. My supervisor has been really fantastic and she has always said if there was anything I needed she would try and help. In my job review last week, she said she thought I was doing amazing considering.The same has come from HR. My problem is I have always made it a point of stating that I felt funny asking for special treatment, especially now that I am at almost a year and a half. This week started out really hectic and stressful, but it has calmed down. I get frustrated because my brain doesn't work like it did before, and I overlooked some things that caused the stress.My organization is no different than any other work place; mostly everyone thinks their request is the most important. Now that my multi-task function seems to be gone, and I try and get the easier things out of the way first, only one really complicated problem/correction and I just stop functioning and want to cry. Our fiscal year ends the end of this month, and I will have a whole new bunch of vacation days to give myself a break. I have to learn to stop telling myself I don't deserve to take more breaks than I did before I lost Mark. I also need to keep telling myself that is it not right for anyone to think I can go one and just not think about what I have lost. I have learned to avoid those people who don't have my best interest at hand. And it is nice to learn that I have people looking out for me without making it obvious.

Dear Cookie, I did not read your post as being angry at anyone here; I understand what you are feeling. My therapist has told me that society in general does not know how to deal with grief. society in general doesn't even like the idea of dealing with death, let alone all the feelings and emotions that go along with grief. You are right in that celebrities do not realize the help they could give to getting grief to be understood as something that affects all facets of your life, and just saying I am being strong really doesn't even scratch the surface. I think we are all being strong...what choice do we really have? There was a saying I have seen that says basically you didn't know about being strong until that was your only choice. I know how you feel about people telling you to "buck up"; how much it truly hurts. I had someone here at work, who I know was just concerned and cared, tell me to stop feeling sorry for myself...on all days Christmas Eve. Yesterday I had someone tell me how much better they thought I was doing; that they could see it in the way I walked in the hall now. They also told me how very proud Mark would be of how I am handling things. I know it is supposed to be our "goal" to not be so sad all the time...but I am not sure I am ready yet to give that up. People don't realized that now I seem to get slammed more with the little mundane things that I miss...the times I want to share my day, or bitch about something, or laugh about something one of the dogs did. Since I have stepped out of my fog, the missing is so much more INTENSE, and facing the fact that I can't change what happened, no matter how badly I close my eyes and wish it. We are all united here in our learning about how this journey works.

Dear Terri... Even though I am a bit younger than so many of my friends here, I can relate everything you wrote. I am coming up on 18 months since Mark has gone. I am not sure why it feels more significant than every other month before, but it does. Mark died suddenly of a heart attack and sent my world spinning. Before we had met, I was a totally independent person. That changed when I got married. Oh, sure, there were still parts of me there, but as husband and wife, decisions were mutually made. Now, how do I go back to being the only one to make decisions again? I am fortunate that I had great support (emotionally) after Mark died. But as is typical, after a year has gone by, things don't get talked about as much. I am not having outbursts at work like before. The last one was in February. We really have no idea how things out of the cameras go for Kathie Lee and Celine. And it is fine if they prefer for their grief to be private. But you are right that they have the benefit of having people to take care of the tasks that sometimes make our grief more intense. It just goes to show that grieving IS unique and individual. There is a family that lives in our neighborhood that has the same car as we do. There were times when I would go past their house (riding with my MIL) and think "why would Mark be there?" Early on, when we would approach the house, and I would see the car sitting there, my heart would leap for a second, like it always did when I knew he was waiting inside for my arrival home...then reality came around and I knew there was no one (except the dogs) waiting inside for me. I don't feel that same feeling anymore...and it makes me sad.

Dear Cookie... I am fast approaching my 18th month (not ready to say year and a half) and I can assure you that I have never really hid my grief, except around my mother-in-law when I can. I don't cry like I did in the beginning; not a lot of sobbing. But there are times when little things hit me, and the tears come and a little bit of crying. Perhaps I have gotten better at getting it under control once it begins, to minimize the length as to not give me a headache. But when I talk to other widows, and share my experiences....the tears and emotions come. I'm not sure about grieving and being a truly public person, such as Celine is. I never looked at crying as being weak; I look at it as being REAL. I am blessed to work among some great, supportive ladies who look out for me without intruding. Like you, I do have some bright moments, and find things that make me laugh...but most times I just kind of wander around with my mind completely blank...still kind of going on auto-pilot. I get some things done, because to not do them would create chaos. But there is NO urgency in my life, nothing really to look forward to. You are in good company here , Cookie.

Okay...here I go again. A week from this Saturday will be 18 months that Mark has been gone. I am at the beginning of a very hectic period at work; our summer camp season and it brings all sorts of changes and added stresses. I can honestly say that this year feels super ultra hectic, as opposed to last year. I don't remember being this stressed. I just came off a long weekend away from work, and here it is Tuesday and I am ready to run out of the building. I just feel extra-sensitive. I went home yesterday and all I could do was veg on the couch because I left work feeling like I had drank 4 cups of coffee. I know I am still trying to navigate my way through all of this...but I hope this is not how the whole summer is going to be because I am not sure I will be okay. I have had it so "together" for the passed 9 months (relatively), so how is it going to look if I start falling to pieces now? If I were to talk to my supervisor, I am not even sure how to explain it. Anyone have any suggestions? I don't want to do anything to jeopardize my job...don't need that worry on top of things. I know that there are many people on this forum who are facing so much more, and I don't want to sound like a whiner. But this is so not who I am...I feel like a complete scatterbrain.

I don't feel I am feeling sorry for myself either, but I believe that others might interpret that way. I don't invite people into my grief, but I expect them to respect it. Sometime I need outsiders to remind me that what I experienced was a truly "big deal". When Mark was alive, we never worried about what the outside world thought of us. In my mind, that hasn't changed. We lived in our little corner of the world, and that is what I do. I'm not ready to invite too many people into it. Gwen, I have never experienced a sudden death until Mark died. One night we are sitting at his mom's house having dinner, celebrating his birthday, and the next morning he is gone in less than an hour. Everything happened so fast; I never knew that I was losing him while it was going on. I don't really ask "why?". I guess I just don't use my energy to ask a question I know there will never be an answer for. I know we were brought together, and I am sure there was a reason for it; not sure if it was for Mark to learn something, or for me. All I know is I am doing my best to live in the aftermath. We lived a very simple life, and as I grieve it continues to be that way. I have to work at not being hard on myself; to not continue to place expectations on myself. I have to learn to be okay with just doing what I do. Today I think I took two naps. I have noticed that with any added stress to my already stressful, grieving existence I can last about three weeks without a break (meaning extra days off work). I haven't been able to stretch it out any longer than that. I have to be okay with that.