Dew's Girl

I am so sorry for your loss. I was 43 when my husband passed away 18 months ago, so I know how daunting it can be to look ahead at the next 30+ years without having them in our lives. I believe keeping a forward momentum is important when we can. I don't have children, but I know that those little ones are always looking at what parents do as much as what they say. I think modeling a healthy, full life including a strong social network of supportive friends is one of the best things you can do for them.

I am so happy that things have fallen into place for you. I moved about six months after Daniel's death to be closer to my family and support system and have not regretted it at all. I suspect you will have a lot of mixed emotions during the transition, I know I did. But in the end, it was the right thing for me. I hope the move goes smoothly for you as well.

I know this feeling well. My heart goes out to you. I am so sorry that you are having to go through this. I could barely keep myself together and you have a little one to care for was well. It must feel so overwhelming. For me, it felt like my body was betraying me by continuing to function. I wrote a post about it here: http://dewsgirl.blogspot.com/2015/08/battle-lines.html If it helps, I can tell you that I am feeling much less disjointed these days. I think my mind has made a peace treaty with my parts.

Polly, I feel the exact same way. I never quite make it into the sun, there is always a shadow overhead. Even if I am having a good time there is always the thought in the back of my head that Daniel should be here to enjoy it with me. I just miss him like crazy. Every day.

I totally agree that permission is the best word. As others have said, it's not permission from others or even from Daniel that I need. It's permission from myself. I've found that this isn't a one time thing either. It isn't like flipping a light switch where I'm now ready to start living again. It's a decision that I have to make every day, sometimes every hour. For me, it was my desire to live for both of us. If Daniel is watching, and I hope in some way he is, then I want him to see the Amy he fell in love with instead of the wreck I've become. I try to stretch past my comfort zone a little at a time. I give myself permission to laugh and to enjoy friends and family. But like Maryanne says, I find it's also important to give myself permission to still be sad and to still grieve as well. I spent the weekend with my nephews being super silly and just having fun. Below is a picture that would never have been possible even six weeks ago.

Daniel always fretted if I was the slightest bit uncomfortable or upset. He couldn't rest until he tried to "fix" it for me. He was so aware of my moods and needs. I'm trying to choose happiness wherever possible in case he is watching. I'm living for two now until we are together again.

I know what you mean. Regularly when I'm out and my plans change, my first thought is that I need to call and let Daniel know so that he doesn't worry. It's been 18 months and I still do that.

I dreaded my first Christmas without Daniel but found that it wasn't too bad. Let's just say I've had worse days during this grief journey on non-holidays. I've found its impossible for me to predict what will trigger my grief. Things I thought I'd never get through were easier than expected and then something that I never anticipated being a problem has me on the floor in tears. The key for me during the holidays was giving myself permission to be selfish and setting boundaries up front for my family. For instance I insisted on taking my own car so that I could leave whenever I felt overwhelmed.

I know how difficult this is for you. Your poem was beautiful. I get exactly what mean by wondering if we are the only ones still missing them. It seems like the rest of the world just keeps moving but we're still here feeling the loss just like it was day one.

Thank you. I don't think it's ever too late. I know that I'd love to read about your journey.

Hi friends, I wanted to share my new blog post with you. Today marks 18 months since I last really held my beloved. http://dewsgirl.blogspot.com Here is an excerpt:"People ask me if time has helped to heal the wounds from your loss. The honest answer is no. I still feel your absence as deeply and intensely today as I did on January 13, 2015. If I am still alive 50 years from now, the pain will not have dulled one bit. But, time has made things better in a surprising way..." I also want to share this song with you all.

I wear my wedding band in its place and Daniel's next to it on my middle finger.

My family is always trying to "fix" it for me or make it better. I just stopped talking to them about it. It makes them sad that I'm not ok and makes me frustrated that they don't understand. I love them and it's better to just ignore the elephant and pretend it's all fine.

I find that in the almost 18 months since Daniel left, I've grown apart from almost all of our friends. They were kind, but they wanted to move on with their lives and not talk about Daniel all the time. I was jealous of their luck at still having their spouses and it was hard to be around them. I want to find friends who have walked this road and understand.

Your Kevin sounds like an amazing guy. I'm so glad you found each other in this life. I share your same doubts but they don't stop me from talking to my Daniel every day. I live to believe we will find Kevin and Daniel in the next life. It's all that keeps me going despite the doubts.

I know how you feel. I mentioned to my boss that I was abstaining from wearing makeup because I was in mourning and her literal response was "that's crazy in this day and age".

Today is the 15th anniversary of one of the best days of my life. On 6-6-01 I went on my first date with Daniel and my life changed in all the best ways. Thank you Daniel for the amazing life you gave me. I miss you every day.

After Daniel left I stopped doing the little things things to keep myself looking attractive. Oh, I made sure to be presentable with brushed hair and clean clothes but did not take any special effort. Gone were the days of getting new a new hairstyle to surprise him or painting my toe nails fun colors. For over a year it was hair pulled up in a ponytail and no makeup. Firstly because it took too much energy which I never seemed to have enough of to make the effort and secondly I suppose that it felt wrong to me to not mark physically how empty I felt inside. (This was just my way, not saying it is the right way) A several weeks ago, I went and cut off about 10 inches of my long hair and styled in a cute short summer cut. This week I pulled out the old bag of pretty colored polishes, lipsticks, and things. I even bought a few new outfits. On one hand I feel more like my old self making this effort. But it freaks me out a bit too. I still feel just as empty. I know I'm never going to leave my mourning for him behind. I tell myself that it is not "moving on" but "carrying on". It's terrifying to stay stagnant and almost worse to step forward.

I apologize if this is offensive to anyone. I know religion is very personal. Please delete if it's a problem. I just needed to make a confession. The only thing that keeps me going, keeps me putting one foot in front of the other each day, is the thought of joining Daniel again after I die. I'd never admit it aloud outside of this place but I struggle every day to convince myself that is true. So many people believe different things about what happens after we die and religions teach differing philosophies. We can' all be right. Daniel wasn't my first husband. What if that means I'm stuck in eternity living with the short mistake I made when I was 17? What if we all return to the source of life (God) and heaven is a metaphor? What if we don't take memories from this world into the next? What if there is no "next"? Every night I go to bed and tell Daniel that I hope this is the night we are rejoined. My heart believes that this will happen when I pass on. But logic and thought during the day keeps tormenting me with these questions. I so envy those whose certainly provides them peace.

Yes, I believe she means well. She is always supportive but can't always help letting her own opinions override common sense. She is just struggling because she can't "fix" things.

I was wondering if this site had ever coordinated a get-together. I think it'd be cool to find an inexpensive location where we could have a weekend event and meet up. I feel like you all have been such a part of my journey and I'd love to say thanks in person. I know that finances can be a barrier and not everyone is located in the US, but maybe if we set it up far enough on advance that would help some of us to save up and we could do a donation fund for others who need help covering the costs. If we found a reasonable hotel and did some room sharing options it might relatively inexpensive. It would be nice if it turned into an annual event like a reunion.

I got really angry for the first time in many months on Friday. My mom started talking about when I remarry. I was saying how this house is a bit too big for me (thinking of getting a roommate) and she casually mentions that my next husband might have kids from a previous marriage and need the rooms. I can understand this from strangers and acquaintances but we' ve talked before about this, she has read my blog, she knows I still wear both my and Daniel's wedding rings on my fingers, she hears that I talk about Daniel in practically every conversation because he is never far from my thoughts. I've told her before that right now in my heart I'm still married. The thought of letting anyone into my bed or my heart is repugnant to me. The space is already full.

I read that yesterday. Great article. I loved the Option B analogy. I no longer have my Option A of growing old with Daniel and sharing a life with him. I don't feel like I'm kicking it out of the park with Option B of living without Daniel, but I'm just going to keep practicing.

Hi George, I always find something helpful in your posts. I am finding life after the first year to be so bizarre as well. On one hand, I thought I would never even make it through the first year and on the other hand I expected to be further along after one year. It's terrifying to think that this might be as good as it gets for the rest of my life. I am so lonely, yet I don't really want to be around anyone else and have to act like things are not completely broken. Thanks for sharing your journey, Amy

Sherbear, I am so sorry to hear about your loss. It just isn't fair. I know that we've all felt that we've been robbed of something essential to us. I imagine that you feel the same way. I also know how difficult it is to lose your love at such a young age. We look at all of the decades ahead of us and wonder how we can possibly go on for even another week, let alone 30+ years more without the one person we need most. For me, I've found that just giving myself grace and not trying to push myself too much works. Even after almost a year and a half, I still have to take each day one step at a time and allow myself to do what I need to get through it. Sometimes that is just giving myself space to cry or permission to still not be ok. Sometimes it is forgiving myself for being ok for a bit and laughing at a funny story or enjoying time out with a friend. I hope that you are able to find some measure of comfort here, even if it is in knowing that others are feeling the same pain and understand. Amy