Dew's Girl

I can't believe it is coming up on the first year anniversary. I have spent this last year thinking to myself, "just get through the first year" but I have no idea what I think will happen on day 366. I do not feel any less lost than I did on that first day. In many ways, I feel more so.

Thank you. It's been weird living somewhere new and this helps me stay connected to him. I miss him like crazy every single day.

Nice. I'm actually seriously considering getting a tattoo for Daniel. I just need to settle on the right one.

I've set up a couple of places in the new house. Over the mantle is a celebration of our marriage. It includes the mouse ears we wore on our honeymoon to Disney and a painting representing us together in Paris. In my bedroom is where I have Daniel's urn along with some things he enjoyed including the wooden owl we picked up on one of our vacations and the two bears we got that he said were "us" on our last trip to Colorado. It's a work in progress. I hope the picture attachments work. A link is here http://imgur.com/a/Ej78q in case they don't.

I feel like such a mess. I knew that this would always hurt, but I am a little surprised that it feels harder as time goes by. I have come to terms with the idea that this is my life now, but I feel overwhelmed by the amount of time still in front of me. I'm in my early 40's. What if I have 30 more years of this? It's just too much.

Mitch, I know exactly what you mean about feeling guilty. In a few months, it will be a year since I lost Daniel. It seems unfathomable to me that I would still be living life without him a year later. I don't know what I expected would happen, but that doesn't feel right. I know that your Tammy was your center and it must feel so dizzying to not have her in your life. Marianne, Your words surprised me because I didn't realize until reading them that I do the same thing. When I try to talk to Daniel, all that comes out is "I miss you" "I love you" and "Where are you?". After reading that, it prompted me to write a little letter to him in my blog. I think it might have helped a little. Thank you.

I am so sorry for your loss. I've been finding that our language just doesn't have the words to adequately describe the devastation of such a loss. I also have found that we don't have to struggle as hard here, because really only those who have lived through this understand the true depths of your loss. I hope you can find some moments of peace between the bottomless grief among your wonderful memories and the home you built together.

My heart goes out to Butch. I know how amazingly hard it is sometimes.

Maryann, my heart goes out to you. I know how hard it is to go through being ill without Mark there to take care of you. I also know what you mean about wanting more that foggy memories. One of the things I miss most about Daniel was his hugs. He could wrap me up in his arms and I would just feel my batteries recharging. I have been running on empty for 8 months now. I would give anything for 15 minutes in his arms one more time.

Mary, that is so true! Thanks for posting that.

I know you guys will understand this. My latest writing is about how I've reached a point where I really feel that it is no longer socially acceptable to talk about my grief to family and friends very often. This huge thing overshadows every single thing I do, but to others it seems like they are ready to move on.

My thoughts have been with you all although I haven't been around much. I am having a difficult time. Just wanted to share my new blog post. http://dewsgirl.blogspot.com/

Today would have been Daniel's 37th birthday. Two days from now will be 7 months since I lost him. The next day is my birthday. I am living half a life. During the work hours, I complete tasks and attend meetings as if life just carries on. But my heart stopped beating on January 13th. This juxtaposition is so surreal. Battle Lines dewsgirl.blogspot.com My ears hear my mouth saying that we are ok. It says how lucky we were to have Daniel for 13 1/2 amazing years and that some people never get to experience in a lifetime what we had for that short, blissful period. My head nods as my brain agrees completely. But my heart is screaming, "NO! It was not enough... there should have been more time." My eyes must agree, because they fill up at the thought. My heart considers my hands traitors as they to go through the day to day tasks of living- brushing my teeth and driving to work. They are conspiring with my feet to keep going from day to day. But my arms are not aligned with them. They would be fighting alongside my heart if they weren't so depressed from being empty for too long. My chest and throat are allies with my heart and tighten up in failed attempts catch my breath, that disloyally continues to move in and out. My soul just sits by staring, like a sad little girl looking forlornly out the window waiting for her best friend to come walking back home.

Karen, I am so sorry for what you are going through right now. I know it is difficult. You have found a place with amazing, compassionate, and understanding people. They have made things easier for me and I hope you find the same here. Amy

Jeff, My heart goes out to you. I know what you are feeling. The first few months are like trying to breathe under water. I hope that finding others here who have been where you are provides some measure of comfort. Amy

Today is our anniversary. We were so happy together and so fortunate to have found each other. It feels like we stuffed a lifetime of happiness into 13 short years.

I don't have the energy to say anything else today, so I will copy from my blog post. I know you all will understand in a way that others do not. The last time I was truly happy, was falling asleep beside Daniel on January 12, 2015. Daniel left us at 3:20 am on January 13th. I thought I would die on that day too. Each day after, I expected my heart to stop beating. Yet, each day it continues and so do I. But I am not living either. Now, I am a ghost haunting this life. No longer a part of it. The world has lost all of it's color and I move through the day in scales of grey. I am just bidding time until I get to see him again. I know that sounds depressing as hell, even as I type it. But I don't mean it that way and it's not me feeling sorry for myself despite the tone. I can still laugh with friends. I can still enjoy time with family. I still have pride and a sense of accomplishment from my job. But as great as these things are, they do not come close to touching the hole that Daniel left behind. I just feel disconnected from the people around me. With the perspective of the last half year, I can finally admit to myself without breaking in to tears that I will have a life without Daniel. I know that it will be full of people who love me and that there will be good times to come. But I also know, in my heart, that it will forever be in the shadow of what was and will always be compared with what can never be. Six months in when people ask if things are getting easier, it is hard to answer. The truth is that yes, it is getting easier, but not in the way that they mean. I don't miss him any less and I am not starting to move past the loss. It is just easier because I am coming to terms with the fact that this is my new reality. I won't ever again feel the way I did when Daniel was with me in this lifetime. Whether it is 40 days from now or 40 years, the next time I will be truly happy will be when I am with him again.

Thank you Maryann and Kay. I had not heard that song before, but I love it.

I spent the evening listening to songs that remind me of Daniel and looking at old pictures. I am a mess. I miss him so much but at the same time, I really realize how amazingly lucky I was to have him for as long as I did. It was almost like the universe was making up for the fact that we wouldn't be together very long by giving us so much love to share during the time we did have.

Just finished writing a wonderful memory about my first 4th of July celebration with Daniel for my blog. These memories are so precious, but also a bit hard too. It reminds me all over again what I've lost. A couple more small memories that I thought I'd share: -Whenever I told Daniel "I love you so much" he would always respond with "I love you la much." Being a band geek, he was just expressing how much he loved me with the music scales.... do re mi fa so la ti do. -One time I was texting Daniel and mistyped I love you with I live you. Daniel thought that was so appropriate since we were each other's lives. So he would often send me a text saying I live you after that.

Congratulations on your wonderful news about the granddaughters. My mom had both knees replaced about a year ago. She said that it was very difficult, but that it was worth it because that pain was just temporary where the pain she was in before the surgery was never ending. Unfortunately, there is not a medical procedure that can make the pain of losing Mary easier, but I bet those sweet baby girls can bring you a bit of comfort.

It has been wonderful to have this place to come and share about my deep, overwhelming loss. But after talking to a few of the members one on one and hearing the fun, loving memories they have of their spouses I thought it might be nice to start a thread where we can share good memories as they pop up. Daniel had a voice activated app on his phone similar to Siri called Cortana . One day when we sitting around and he picked up his phone and grinned at me and activated it. He said, " Cortana, remind me to tell my wife how much I love her at noon each day." After that I would randomly get a text message from him at noon saying things like more than cowboys love saddles more than chunky monkey ice cream more than the number of people Chuck Norris has punched more than there are stars in the sky

I know that they say not to make any big decisions in the first year, but I've sold the house and will be moving in a few weeks. It has been difficult, but for health reasons I need to be closer to my family. Right now I am over an hour away and the new house is 5 minutes from my sister and 20 from my parents. Packing has been difficult. I was prepared for the big things like saying goodbye to the 10 years of memories in each room. It's the small, insignificant stuff that really creeped up on me. Before it was easy to just leave Daniel's tooth brush in the holder. Now I have to decide... throw it away or keep an old, used toothbrush. Neither sounds right. It's those small things that I didn't think anticipate.

I hope you find some comfort here, as I have. There are many wonderful people who have been through this and understand. From my experience, only a few months longer than you, on this road I will say that it is just really important to give yourself some grace and do little things that bring you comfort. I know it is cliche, but like they say on the airplane before it takes off, in case of a crash you have to put the oxygen mask on yourself first so that you will be ok to take care of those that depend on you.

I am so sorry for your loss. I understand how you feel. July 13th will be 6 months since my Daniel left us. I have begun to think of us survivors as amputees. We've lost a piece of ourselves. I hear that people who have lost a limb sometimes still feel it... phantom limb syndrome. 6 months in and I still expect to turn over in bed and feel his warm body there with me. When I get together with friends or family, they are always awkward and don't know whether to talk about it or not just like people sometimes don't know how to be around those who have been amputated. I guess I will live through this, but I will never be the same.