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About mittam99

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  • Birthday May 10

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    Reisterstown, MD

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  • Your relationship to the individual who died
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  1. For a variety of reasons, this time of year has become the hardest for me. Not just because our anniversary was on Christmas Eve or all the celebratory holidays coming up that now have so little joy to them. Back in 2014, this was the time of year that Tammy's health took that turn for the worse. The weather that year and into 2015 was some of the worst we've ever had here. It's deeply depressing. There's a chill in the air and gloomy feelings abound for so many reasons. Let's hope all of us that live in cold weather States have mild winters. That would be a positive development, for sure.
  2. Gwen, unfortunately there's nothing I can say to truly give you any real comfort or solace. I'm so sorry these health issues are making things so much more difficult than they already are. And with it being the anniversary of Steve's birthday you probably feel like the poor critter in that whack-a-mole game. One hard hit after another. It's exhausting. It's overwhelming. It's just plain hard. Just know that we all care about you and hope that there's some glimmer of joy in your near future. Mitch
  3. With the Holidays rapidly approaching, I feel that same sense of heightened dread I've felt since Tammy died. Christmas was a huge event for Tammy. I mean, she listened to Christmas music virtually 24/7 from Thanksgiving to New Years. 😀 December 24th was her favorite day of the year. Wrapping gifts and anticipating the goodies Santa would bring. These days, Christmas takes on a palpable level of gloom for me. After all, knowing how the 24th was Tammy's favorite day of the year, I suggested we get married on the Christmas Eve. Why not make her favorite day even more memorable, right? We had a small ceremony at Tammy's parents house in Illinois with a select group of family and friends in attendance. We were married by the local preacher in front of the family's Christmas tree... in the family living room... located in a very small farming town (population 200, including cats and dogs). A truly special moment in time for me and Tammy. Like every holiday that's occured since March 6, 2015, It won't be easy. Nothing is easy in this life without our beloved.
  4. Over the years since Tammy died, I've detailed many of those explainable things that I'm sure were Tammy. From my falling asleep at the wheel traveling to Tammy's funeral, hitting a barrier and both me and the car ending up unscathed. To the ceiling fan that turned on by itself. Or Tammy's combs on the vanity that sometimes move a bit on their own. And many other things that tell me that Tammy is still loving me and communicating with me. The other day something happened that was amazing. A couple days before, I noticed something odd on my desk. I keep my phone laying on top of my tablet and I kept noticing the phone had shifted positions. In other words, I'd stack it vertically at night and in the morning it would be horizontal. Similar to Tammy's "moving" combs. One morning I sat at my desk and literally saw the phone move slowly on it's own. Right there in front of me! There's no way that could be anything other than Tammy trying to get my attention. Of course it would be even better if she was able to talk to me! Some may try to explain this stuff away with a scientific reasons for all this happening. But, in my mind, it's Tammy's loving me still and letting me know she's there.
  5. I don't cry as often as I did and there's a part of me that feels "guilty" that I don't. But the tears still happen when I least expect it. The biggest outburts for me are those moments when something memorable happens and I wish Tammy was here to see or enjoy it. My life is so empty without my Tammy by my side. But like we all do, I try my best.
  6. Marita, none our brains are working as well as they once did. Apparently, the warranty is up on mine because it's definitely in need of major repairs. 😋 Btw, thanks for the chuckle you gave me when I read "bad math" as your edit reason.
  7. It's been a while... Marita my heart goes out to you and all of us who are struggling to find our way. I honestly don't really count the months or days or hours anymore (it's been nearly 44 months) since that life changing day I lost my Tammy. I knew Tammy had so many life threatening medical problems but I never thought she would die. And certainly not at 45 years old. When she died, so did life as I knew it. Replaced suddenly by a cold, dark, dismal place I didn't recognize. Nearly four years later, life is still hard, although I've adapted to ebb and flow of grief. It's still a one day and sometimes one moment at a time kind of life. A life where happiness comes in tiny increments. A chuckle here, a brief moment of success there and then it's back to the feeling of sadness, loneliness and emptiness. We're all here, but sometimes we want to be somewhere else. A place where our beloved is in our arms and we never want to let them go. It's so hard to have everything and suddenly nothing. To reach out and no one is there. All we can do is live our life with our beloved not only in our hearts but live as though they still walk beside us. Motivating us, telling us to move forward and to try to find those elusive moments of happiness. I wish you Marita, and everyone here a life that feels less painful, that feels more purposeful and that ultimately feels like a life truly worth living. Your friend, Mitch
  8. My sweet Tammy... my perfect for me wife, died on March 6, 2015. And it didn't take me long to find Marty's forum. I needed help and I found some sense of understanding and comfort from members here. One of the first topics I started was called "It hurts so bad". My life wasn't much of a life at that point. It was 24/7 of agony followed by another 24 hours of figuring out if I even wanted to survive alone without the only person that made my life worth living. The only person who gave my life joy. Tammy was all I ever wanted and needed. Every day was a struggle to find a reason to go on. Trying to find meaning in my emptiness and trying to come to grips with the question that resonated in my mind... That word was repeated over and over in my head... Why? Why was Tammy, a woman filled with amazing courage and beauty and love, taken from this world at only 45 years old? Why did she have to suffer so much? Why wasn't my love enough to save her? And then there were the woulda, coulda, shouldas that played on my mind and gave me much daily angst. This life alone just hurt. How was it possible that Tammy was gone? Didn't we just come home from an extended hospital and rehab stay? She was on the mend or so we thought. A day and a half after coming home, she died. It's been 3 years and 5 months since that day that is forever etched in my soul. Three years and 5 months without holding or kissing or touching my dear Tammy. Yet somehow, I'm still here. Coping and functioning in a world without Tammy. I've done it by living my life with Tammy in my heart. Living my life in a way that would make Tammy proud. I still feel married to Tammy and always will. She was the only one for me. Today, I felt gut wrenching pain that rocked me to my core. Pain so deep it took my breath away and I could not stop crying. I had just finished a project in the kitchen... adding a backsplash. It's something I always wanted, but never got around to doing. I put up the last tile, and stepped back to check out the room. And it look good, I mean amazingly good. Probably the best home project I've ever done. And in that moment, gazing at my work, all I could think of was how much Tammy would have loved it. And then it hit me. That deep, mind numbingly intense grief burst. Hell, this wasn't a burst, it was more like an atom bomb. I screamed out for Tammy... over and over... at the top of my lungs. Somehow hoping my voice could be heard all the way to heaven. And that word came up again... Why? Why can't this all just have been some sort of maddening nightmare? Why can't Tammy come back so we can live our life the way it was meant to be? Why is this life so hard? The hurt never goes away. You adapt. You cope. You get through the day. But, when love is this deep and forever, the pain (in one form or another) will also linger forever. Nothing is easy in this life. But... I still get up everyday and I try my very best. And I will love my Tammy for all eternity. Mitch
  9. Tammy's been gone over three years and in that time there have been many signs that she is still with me. Things that defy logical explanation. But, one thing that's bothered me is that she's rarely in my dreams. Last night though, I had a dream. One that was quite vivid and will be etched on my mind for some time. I opened the door to a house (it wasn't our house) and there was Tammy, looking beautiful and healthy and happy. I instantly ran to her with a huge smile on my face and held her and didn't want to let go. It was a moment of magic. I asked her where the heck she had been. I don't think she really answered but that dream gave me such an incredible feeling of happiness.
  10. Today was one of those days, definitely hellish. Nothing seemed to go right. The worst of it was finding out the hard way (sloshing through the flood) that my water main (inside the basement) had sprung a major leak. To make matters worse, the water shut off control had seized up and was stuck in the on position. High pressure city water was blasting into my house. I frantically started calling plumbers, holding a bucket in one hand and a phone in the other. Being a Saturday, it wasn't easy to even get somebody out to my house. Finally, a plumber came out but it was hours later. What a mess. I also was at the mercy of the plumber and he definitely overcharged me, but... based on the circumstances, what could I do? As if all that wasn't bad enough, my Tammy wasn't here to give me some sense of comfort, and compassion and most importantly of all, her love. The pain never ends. But, I'm still here and I'm still trying the best I can. But nothing about this life of grief says "easy".
  11. Tough day today. It would have been Tammy's 49th birthday. She was so incredibly young. And no one should have had to go through the medical ordeals that she had to endure. This life without Tammy by my side is so hard to bear. It's so lonely and filled with so much angst. There's no joy to be found. But I'm here and I'm trying the best I can. I love my Tammy, my sweet dear wife, forever and always.
  12. Gwen I'm not sure why but your nacho cheese joke reminded me of an old Flip Wilson joke about how Worcestershire sauce got it name... Back in the day it had no name unlike ketchup and mustard. People just called it "brown sauce". One day a newcomer to town saw a bottle of the brown sauce on the restaurant table and being the curious guy he was, asked the waiter... "what's dis here sauce??"... The rest is history. 😋
  13. Optimism. I think that's one of my better traits. I always try to look at things from the glass half full point of view. Throughout Tammy's illnesses, many of which were life threatening, I couldn't bear to think in a worse case scenario way. I had to try to be upbeat. In this grieving life, it's easy to become pessimistic. Our life has been torn apart. We're without the one person who brought joy and love to our world. If someone was already a glass half empty person, I think losing their soul mate could send them into a downward spiral of depression and despair. Being without my Tammy is so hard. The missing her never stops and never will. But, I keep plodding along... trying, hoping, pushing. There is some happiness out there... somewhere. It's just that there's no Google Maps to guide us and no definitive grief tutorial to show us the way. It's all trial and error. And it's all so very hard.
  14. I hear ya Gin. No question, we all want to feel like we matter. That someone cares even just a little about us. That we can somehow make a difference. Before our loved one died, we always knew someone had our back. We knew we mattered and we were loved. These days, we have very little true emotional support. It's us and our weakened emotional state against a world that, at times, feels like it's passed us by. A world we live in, but maybe don't feel we belong in. It's against that not so wonderful backdrop that we're expected to not only survive, but thrive. It's an uphill battle and we often find ourselves slipping trying to climb that hill. At best, it often just feels like we're just treading water. Some members here have moved forward and found love again or have decided to look for love again. And if that brings them happiness, that's absolutely wonderful. For me, Tammy truly was my perfect angel and my one and only. That's what my heart and my inner voice tells me. So for me, this grief journey will be taken alone. It hasn't been easy in any way and I know it never will. But I'll keep on pushing and trying. I'll keep looking for that elusive formula that ultimately gives me some sense that this life (after losing Tammy) will once again have meaning. And I'll do it with Tammy and her love always a part of me, always inspiring me. Telling me to never give up and to always do the very best I can. Mitch
  15. Gwen and Gin, let's face it, this existence we have is just an endless 24 hour cycle of trying to fill our time with "something". Unfortunately, that something seems mostly meaningless and repetitive and basically unfulfilling. A far cry from the life we had with our beloved where life felt like life. Where love and passion and joy and meaning was a given. Trying to find that meaning in this world of emptiness seems like an impossible task. I think we all are trying, but alone, it's hard to muster much enthusiam or energy for that seemingly impossible dream. I guess I'm emotionally in a better place than I was. I don't feel as though life isn't worth living, it is. It's just so hard to find anything that ultimately doesn't feel like drudgery. Not that Tammy and me were constantly on the go or doing amazing things all the time. We were basically homebodies. And unfortunately she was ill most of the time. But whatever we did or didn't do, we were together. Even the most mundane thing feels OK when you're with the one you love. We all ache for the one we lost. That sadness is a constant in our lives. We miss them so much. But ultimately, its also the loneliness that makes this new life so challenging. The thing is, I found the one person who was perfect for me. There is no substitute. Tammy was and forever will be the only one for me. Yet somehow, I need to find a way to make something of my life that resembles a life. And I haven't yet figured out that formula for success. And the beat goes on...