mittam99

Kay, Here's to hoping you find your way back online asap. And wishing you a very very ... Mitch

I don't think it's a matter of time but of the bond. Think of it this way, if a couple was together 50 years, that doesn't mean they were soul mates. Many people stay together because of the kids or just the fact that they've been together so long they wouldn't know any other way. On the other hand, a couple may only be together a very short time but they have that instant bond where they know they are perfect for each other. Tammy and I came from different worlds, we were 14 years apart in age and our families didn't understand the whole meeting each other on the internet concept. Tammy's mom was worried I could be a serial killer or something and my brother in law questioned why I'd want to start a relationship with someone with a severe illness. But Tammy and I had an amazing connection and a profoundly deep love for one another. I'm happy for those who have found love again. If that's the answer to their prayers, that's a wonderful thing. For me, Tammy was my perfect angel. My everything. The one person that brought happiness to me in a very challenging world. We were and always will be a team. She was all I ever wanted and I wanted us to grow old together. No one could ever take her place in my heart and never will.

So Alone, I lost my darling wife Tammy more than 2 and a half years ago and the pain and the tears are still there. She was only 45. Losing someone who you love more than life itself is something none of us could ever prepare for. It's our worst nightmare come true. I know you said you have no one to talk to, but let me tell you, the members here understand what you're going through. We all live with this grief, this pain and this sadness 24/7. It's all encompassing. Please continue to post here. It will help. Your grief journey is just starting and believe me, along the way, a compassionate, understanding ear makes a big difference. Thank you for your first post, that's not an easy thing to do. I'm so sorry for your loss. Mitch

No tv for several years? Wow. Sadly, the tv is my main companion these days and it's great for ambient background noise when my mind drifts off to another time and place (as it often does). Just like everyone else, it's hard to watch shows we used to watch together. I still watch a few of them but I sometimes feel guilty that I get to see new episodes but Tammy doesn't. Then again, the shows in heaven might be better than what we get on earth. Just sayin'.

Very nice and loving tribute to a beautiful little girl who sadly only had a short time on this earth.

Close encounter of the worst (scary) kind... Driving home today, merging onto the highway at nearly 60 MPH, a deer decided to run full blast towards the side of my new car. I did everything in my power to avoid it. As I awaited and cringed expecting to hear the sound of crunched sheet metal, I only heard a lighter sounding bump. That was at least a little bit encouraging. Shaken, I drove the seven miles to my house expecting to see some damage. I got out of my car and prayed to the heavens. Well, there were no dents at all. The deer hit my rear driver's taillight and only caused a long gouge in the plastic lens cover. It could have been much, much worse. Special thanks to my sweet angel Tammy. She is always looking out for me.

On occasion, I'm a "busyaholic" too, Ana. I do projects that occupy my time and put my mind in a different place. But ultimately, when the work is done I'm still who I am... A man devastated by the loss of his wife. Struggling to understand how to live a life of meaning in a world without the person who gave it meaning.

Indescribably stressful day today. I got home from a difficult day at work at about 2:30 and spent the next 5 hours dealing with this parking mess. I called my county, the local police, the landlord, the homeowner's association and confronted the next door renters in person. Turns out the landlord told the folks renting the house next door that the two parking spaces in front of my house came with the rental of their house. Seriously??? I've been a homeowner here for 30 years and they're telling me those spaces are theirs? I was livid. Hopefully, my being proactive and a bit of a squeaky wheel will be a positive catalyst in this situation. On the other hand, I don't know these new neighbors or whether or not they'll be more considerate in the future. I sure hope they will be. So here it is at 8 o'clock and I'm finally trying to "relax". Haven't even eaten dinner. Just too worked up. All the while knowing that if Tammy was here, I'd feel differently. More at ease, comforted. And knowing that someone loves me, cares about me and is on my side. This new life alone without my beloved is hard enough in a normal 24/7 cycle. When stressful times happen, the overwhelming nature of this grief gets ramped up to a new level that's almost unbearable. Sometimes it feels like I need the conductor to stop this train 'cause I want off. How much sadness and stress can one human being endure? How much heartache? How much emotional pain? I wonder if this is some sort of test. A test that's a helluva lot harder than the SAT's! I titled this topic "Healing" to point out that while the concept of grief healing sounds wonderful and soothing, I'm not sure that a grief this deep and all encompassing can ever heal. It's not unlike those horrific MRSA sores that Tammy endured for so many years. We'd treat them and some would go away for a time but, sure enough, they'd reappear time and time again. It felt like a no-win situation. We were treading water but ultimately getting that sinking feeling. It seems to me that grieving a soul mate is an open emotional wound that just won't heal no matter what you try. You learn to live with it but you are forever scarred. A day like today hammers home that my life will never be the same. That I'm all alone in this world. Alone and unloved. A good man in a horrible situation. Living life without the one person that made my life livable. Tammy was all I had. She was my life. My everything. She was all I ever wanted and all I ever needed.

Gwen, I hear you on the changes. I've never liked change. I'm basically a creature of habit. On March 6, 2015 my whole world changed and not for the better. All these subsequent life changes just seem to pile on to the overwhelming grief we already are experiencing. In the past, Tammy was here and we would comfort each other when things that were out of our control happened around us. Now, it's only me, myself and I dealing with every situation 24/7 and there's absolutely no comfort in sight. It's a life of misery that somehow we're supposed to find hope in. Talk about a nearly impossible task! Mitch

Frustration and bs... I don't know about all of you but since Tammy died I have just about zero tolerance for bull$hit and I'm much more easily frustrated. Right now both of those issues have come to the forefront. I've lived in the same townhouse for nearly 30 years. For the most part it's been a decent neighborhood over the years. It recent years, many townhouses have been bought by some folks who rent them out and that's when the problems began. We have limited parking (no assigned spaces) and the renters park haphazardly, often taking up two spaces. I rarely get to park in front of my own home. Neighbors throw trash on my lawn. Vandals throw firecrackers in my yard. My next door neighbors make noise running up and down their steps until 3 in the morning. When I've complained to my homeowners association they tell me to contact the landlords or the police. The bottom line, as a homeowner I apparently have less rights then renters. The police could care less. So I'm at the point where I don't know what to do. I like my house and all of my time with Tammy was spent here. I don't want to move. But, I know this neighborhood will continue to become less and less tight knit and friendly. It's horrible to think I'm getting pushed out of my home by these new renters but I don't know how much more of this I can take. Vent over.

I think this is one of the biggest hurdles in our grief journey, Gwen. Living this life with so much love to give and not being on the receiving end of any either. We all need love. We all want to feel needed. This new life alone, longing for what we had is simply unbearable at times. It's torture. What do we do with that love we feel for our departed? For me, it's locked inside my heart and I threw away the key so it will never leave me. I always will be Tammy's man and she is and always will be my perfect bride. Beyond that, I don't know how to make this life alone feel happy or meaningful or worthwhile. It's drudgery and sameness and monotony for the most part. Not to be a downer but I've come to accept that this may be as good as it gets all the while hoping that miraculously I will find meaning and a semblance of happiness. This is all new territory for all of us. I guess we can either look at it as another 24 hours to "get through" or use those 24 hours to accomplish some positive goals. Either way, the life we loved died along with our soul mate. At some point, maybe the answers we need will come. I sure hope so. Mitch

I am so shocked and saddened to hear this. I just don't have the words. How much pain can Butch endure?

I hear you Sean. My logical side tells me that I was a very good husband. Tammy would "brag" about me to all her friends, co-workers and relatives. People at work who know how devoted I was to Tammy tell me I was a wonderful husband. I once had a doctor tell me how much he "admired" me when he saw I stayed with Tammy 24/7 through an entire month long hospital stay. Yet, at times, I still feel like I failed Tammy. I was her knight in shining armor, her protector, the man who cared about her and loved her more than life itself. But I'm here now and she isn't. Ultimately, I realize the ravages of 25 years of severe Lupus took it's toll. Tammy's will to live was still strong but her body simply broke down. It's just that all these scenarios run through my mind these days. For example, Tammy loved to shop but after she lost her job our money was extremely tight. We lived paycheck to paycheck. On occasion, I'd get on her case about all of her spending. Hindsight says I'm sorry I did that but in real time I was just being practical. I did all the cooking and Tammy loved the food I made. She always said my secret ingredient was TLC. But, I wonder if I was making the wrong type of foods. I know I shouldn't beat myself up but it's hard not to wonder about the "what-ifs". Tammy was all that mattered to me in the world. I would do anything for her. I just wanted her to get better. To have a life that was pain free and worry free. I wanted us to grow old together and share our amazingly love forever. Life without her is life without purpose, it's life with very little meaning, a life without love. But mostly it's a life of longing for the past. Hoping to wake up, open my eyes and see Tammy sleeping comfortably, my arms wrapped around her. Hoping against hope that this is just some sort of cruel nightmare.

Rough couple of days for me. I got a text from my sister last night that my brother in law was in the cardiac ICU of a local hospital. A hospital and ICU that me and Tammy spent many traumatic moments/days/weeks/months in. All sorts of thoughts raced through my head. And to top it off, I’ve been watching a show called ”the OA” on Netflix. The show is about a group of people kidnapped by a scientist who is studying them and their near death experiences. Well, last night, right after texting back and forth with my sister, I had one of the most intense grief bursts I've had in a long time. It felt like I was going to explode and I could not stop crying... In the show, one of the five NDE characters is killed by the kidnapper. Two of the others start doing these odd movements and chants and somehow their friend is brought back to life. At the moment he was brought back to life, I completely lost it. Screaming at the top of my lungs that I needed Tammy back... over and over. I screamed and sobbed into my blanket so my neighbors (hopefully) couldn't hear me. Two years and six months after my sweet Tammy died, I felt intense and overwhelming sadness that absolutely took my breath away. My life is, for the most part, tolerable these days. That's about as good as it seems to get. Losing Tammy means losing every happiness I had in life. Losing the best friend I ever had. Losing the love of the one person I loved like no other. Losing my identity. My passion. At times, it feels like it's too much to bear. Why couldn't I save her?

Hugs Gin. Note: mini-rant ahead... You're right, she doesn't have a clue. Sure, in a perfect world, we'd all have tons of best friends that are understanding, compassionate, caring and loving. But as you know the world we live in is far from perfect (unless perfectly awful counts). All those people who give us advice... the ones who have never walked in our shoes, have never lost a soul mate, and yet tell us what we "should do". Why on earth do they think they know what we need? What expertise do they have? Yes, they mean well, I have no doubt. I just wish they could understand the pain and torment we feel. The utter sense of hopelessness that often accompanies us on our journey. The empty, meaningless life we live and the constant longing to be with our beloved. Then and only then could they even remotely give advice that was truly helpful and worthwhile. End of rant. Mitch

A little update featuring some surprisingly good news. I definitely needed some after that harrowing incident on the highway today. I got my mail and in it was another tax bill (usually that's not a good thing but today it was). That crazy charge of $800 based on my water consumption from 2014 had been reduced to $250. I'm not sure how that happened but I am grateful and relieved.

Tammy is always looking out for me... So, I was just driving home from work on the highway when all hell broke loose. I was driving my new car in the slow lane of a 3 lane highway. Up ahead I could see everyone's brake lights going on and traffic was really slowing down. I saw that the center lane was moving faster so I went to go into that lane... Just as I went to make the move to the center lane, the van that was in front of me decided he was going to do the same thing and he cut me off. I had two choices. Slam on my brakes or veer into the fast lane. I chose to do the latter and that's when it got dicey. As I started to move into the fast lane I heard the sound of screeching tires. I had cut off someone in the fast lane. Seeing that, I had to brake hard and veer to the right to avoid hitting him all the while the van was on my right side in the center lane. This I was at 65 MPH, and I'm fishtailing and trying to control my car with a van inches away on the right and the car inches away on the left. I had nowhere to go and could only try to drive like a stunt driver to avoid a collision. All I could think about were the dents on my brand new car. But somehow in Mario Andretti style I avoided any metal to metal contact. This had all the makings of a great movie car chase/stunt scene. I don't know how I controlled the car to avoid a collision. I was frantically turning left and right, the wheels had locked up and I was sliding, but somehow I got through unscathed. I know Tammy was protecting me today. No doubt in my mind. I'm still shaking as I write this.

Cookie, I don't know how much of this thread you've had a chance to read but earlier I mentioned Tammy's combs that are on the bathroom vanity. Well, they still have Tammy's red hair in them and always will. Maybe someday I'll put them away in storage, but emotionally, that time hasn't arrived yet.

When Tammy died, I made the decision that she should wear her ring forever. That ring was the symbol of the bond we shared and the overwhelming love I will always have for her. Early on, I wore my ring after Tammy's death and would probably still be wearing it today if not for an awful experience I had. I was wearing it at work as usual and went home. I washed my hands and realized the ring was gone and must have fallen off (I've lost a lot of weight). In a panic, I drove madly back to my workplace. Luckily someone found it and put it in the safe at work, but I was visibly shaken and vowed not to chance losing it again. That ring is precious to me. As far as not wearing it anymore in public... (as you said Sean), I still feel married to Tammy and always will.

There's no "have to” Gin, it's up to you whether Al's things stay or go. And that goes for everything in this grieving life. We can do whatever we think feels best for us. Of course, sometimes it feels like we're damned if we do and damned if we don't. Like Cookie mentioned, she felt pain being surrounded by John's clothes and pain when she gave them away. Nothing is easy for us. Today was actually a pretty good day for me. The sun was shining and I was in good spirits. Even found myself laughing uncontrollably at a movie I was watching. And still, I felt a twinge of guilt. Guilt that I was laughing and enjoying myself alone. Tammy loved seeing me happy and I know she wouldn't want me feeling miserable, and yet, I still felt guilt. I'm still learning how live life without Tammy by my side.

Some unexplainable things just can't be coincidence... OK, this may be a long read. And for members who have been here a while, I've mentioned most of these things before but they bear repeating. Tammy died unexpectedly on March 6, 2015 and it felt like my world had ended. Truth is, the life I loved, with the woman I loved, had ended. This will be the story of the "unusual" things that have happened (since Tammy died) that lead me to believe she is still with me, still trying to communicate and still loving me. Tammy lived most of her life in Illinois. She moved to Maryland with daughter Katie (who was 3 at the time) to live with me. All of Tammy's family lives in Illinois. When she died, her mom told me it was her wish to be buried back in Illinois in the family plot. I honored that and I drove to Illinois to go to Tammy's funeral and deliver the eulogy. Driving there, I fell asleep at the wheel. Going 70MPH, I was awakened by the sound of my car veering into a concrete construction barrier. I was physically "OK" but all I could think was I ruined the car and wouldn't be able to attend my own wife's funeral. Anyway, I exited at the next rest stop to survey the damage to my car. I stared in disbelief at the side of the car. There was NO visible damage. I mean, I heard the crunch of metal to concrete. WTF??? And then it hit me. That was Tammy. She knew how I loved my cars so she somehow made arrangements up there in heaven to "fix" my car and protect me. I have no other explanation for such a miracle. Since then, there have been numerous other things that make me feel Tammy is looking out and loving me still. I was talking on the phone to my niece about Tammy and how Katie (as a teenager) was sort of mean to Tammy. And how it hurt Tammy so much. I was getting visibly upset thinking about the hell that Katie sometimes put Tammy through. All of the sudden, the bedroom ceiling fan (which was off at the time) beeped and turned itself on to the highest setting. That startled me so much that I told my niece I had to call her back. Laying in bed shivers went up my spine. Tammy loved that fan because she was always warm. And she loved the highest setting. It had to be Tammy! There was no electrical surge in the house. This was Tammy's way of getting my attention and telling me not to get upset. No other explanation. And then there was the venetian blind incident. We had a blind on a long window next to our front door that had gotten stuck in the open position. It had been like that for years. Every now and then, I would try to "un-jam" it to no avail when Tammy was alive. It just wouldn't budge no matter what I tried. One day, I decided to try again. This time before going downstairs to fix it, I said out loud "Tammy if there's any way you can get this unstuck it would be great". Well, I pulled the string on the blind and it released immediately. Closed up perfectly. I fell to my knees. I knew Tammy heard me and was with me. I have no explanation for any of that. People can say "stuff happens" or it was a coincidence but I'm not buying that. Too many things have happened including that butterfly that followed me wherever I went outside not long after Tammy died. Unfortunately, that was before I knew butterflies related to our departed ones. I remember trying to shoo the butterfly away as it tried to get into the house. Afterward, I thought, "Oh no... if that was Tammy I sure hope she didn't think I was mad at her". Oh how our grieving minds sometime work. All of that brings me to last night's hair raising moment. Tammy had 3 different types of styling combs she left on the bathroom vanity. After she died, I left them there but put them in a slightly different place... in the corner of the vanity. From time to time, I would notice they slightly moved position and I wondered if that was Tammy's way of letting me know she's here. Then my logical mind would say "maybe I nudged them myself and didn't know it". But, the thing is, they are in the corner out of reach. Last night I was getting up to do my business in the middle of the night and went to wash my hands. I then saw the sight that stopped me in my tracks. And here it is: First of all sorry for the poor quality cell phone pic. OK, those three combs are always laying there flat. Stacked one on top of the other. But look at the rat tail comb. It's up on it's edge now. I literally found my self staring in disbelief and doing double takes for what seemed like 3 minutes. Then I cried out to Tammy. All of this reinforces, to me anyway, that Tammy is still in my life. I can't see her or touch her but it does give me some small sense of comfort. Of course, I still want to go back in time (after I've invented that time machine) and cure Tammy's lupus. Some of you may think I'm adding 1+1 and coming up with 3. And trust me, I am generally a skeptic and quite logical. But like I said, some things defy logic. None of us know anything about life after death so who knows what is ahead for all of us. This gives me a sense that Tammy's love will always be there. It doesn't lessen the pain of not having Tammy by my side 24/7, but it does give me a glimmer of hope. Mitch

I say this all the time but it really is a one day at a time life now. Or more precisely, one moment at a time. No one's formula for "success" is the same. Success has a new meaning these days that's for sure. An accomplishment could be something as basic as making it in to work or watching a movie from beginning to end without our mind drifting off. We all want our old life back but we know that's not happening. I guess the only thing we can do is try to make lemonade out of sour lemons, right?

I was surprised your grief counselor said it was "important" for you to make changes. I always thought this was a journey where there was no rulebook, no timetable and no "definites". That's certainly not to say I know more than your counselor. Just my own observation. My experience with a grief counselor was poor. Unfortunately, my work insurance gave me a very limited choice of counselors and while she was basically a nice person, her expertise was not in grief. I also have learned that grief has an element of "on the job training" to it. Unless someone has personally lost their soul mate, I might just take their advice with a grain of salt. That's why Marty's forum has been a godsend for me. Being here has been very therapeutic. Surrounded by others who are suffering through and living this nightmarish life. It doesn't feel like I belong anywhere anymore. But this community is a place I feel a part of and feel I can make a difference at. The members here have each other's back. I am so grateful this forum exists. TGFMP!!! (Thank God for Marty's place) Mitch

I know Tom mentioned that his grief counselor said it's important to make his place a little like his own. For me, this house would feel much more cold and sterile if Tammy's stuff wasn't all around me. That's not to say I haven't made some changes. I have done some house updating to an extent but for the most part it still looks and feels like Mitch and Tammy's place. One example is a caricature of Tammy's dad that she put on her nightstand after his untimely death. It was important to her because her dad was so special to her. That caricature is still there today because it meant so much to Tammy. I miss my Tammy so much. I can't feel those sweet hugs or hear her laugh or see her smile in person but I can in mind's eye. She was all that mattered to me. She was my everything. She was my life. Now all I can do is hold on. Hold on to the memories. Hold on to the hope that we will be reunited some day in some way. And some days, I just hold on and ride those overwhelming waves that hit me over and over. Mitch

Something hit me last night. I was in bed and looking at the closet door and saw a shoe rack filled with Tammy's shoes and that got me to thinking... Keep or Dispose/Remove/Donate etc... ?? For the most part, I've kept Tammy's things and in many cases they've barely moved an inch since she died. I thought about that rack of shoes and how I would feel if it was no longer there. For me anyway, there is a certain comfort in seeing Tammy's things. Maybe it's my way of protecting myself from the reality that she's no longer here. If the rack was gone I think I'd feel a serious twinge in the pit of my stomach. I know for some people these physical reminders are painful. Something that emphasizes that their beloved is no longer here to use them. So where are you at in your journey? Keep or remove?