TerriL

Joyce, your crossed fingers must have worked! The rain never showed up and everything finally got installed. he only left just a short time ago, because he didn't have the correct receiver and then he did something that messed up my cable. We had to wait about a half hour for another worker to bring him the correct receiver and he messed up around and finally got the cable working again. So, everything seems to be great now and I finally have a receiver that's compatible with my HDTV. The picture is unbelievable! I only wish Paul was here tp watch his NCIS and Blue Bloods on it. He'd love how crystal clear the picture is. Of course, when I was moving my car to make room for him to bring his ladder to the side of the house, I discovered that my TRAC OFF and ABS lights are staying on. I looked that up online and apparently, it has something to do with the brakes. Really? Maybe that's why there was no rain. It wasn't a rain cloud at all, but the little black cloud that's hovering over MY head! I wonder how much THIS one is going to cost me? Karen, even though it's sweltering here, I turned off my AC, opened all the windows (so someone could hear me if I screamed---lol), opened the little door to my alarm system (so I could run for it and easily push the panic button if he tried something---lol) and I kept my phone clutched in my hand the whole time he was here. Isn't it terrible? He was a very nice, friendly guy. But, if it makes us feel safer, we have to do what we feel is best! Isn't it better to be prepared and have nothing happen than the other way around? I don't care if I look silly or even appear rude in some circumstances. I've learned to heed my natural instincts. They've saved me from being a crime victim on more than one occasion.

Thank you, Joyce! You are Joyce, right? HAHA!!! This whole situation began simply because I wanted to watch a Pay Per View movie---Hello, My Name Is Doris (even if I'm afraid "Doris" might too closely resemble "me"---haha!). My satellite wouldn't get the movie and I discovered it's because I have the T. Rex of receivers. I'm praying for a great outcome. All I know is that my TV and satellite dish had better be working fine when the new episode of Outlander comes on Saturday night! Oh, of course! It's been hot and sunny all morning and now, I'm hearing thunder and black clouds are rolling in! Welcome to summertime in South Florida. I'm NOT rescheduling this time!

Thank you Polly and Joyce! (And I apologize to Joyce and Gwen for getting their names mixed up! My mind is a jumble sometimes.) Update on the TV situation: it's still where it was before I wrote my earlier post. The TV itself isn't so hard to move, but it's hooked up to so many wires, boxes, etc. and I'm just afraid of messing something up. And the shelves underneath----I couldn't even slide it when I pushed into it with my whole body. I'm not completely sure what I might be doing wrong, so I'm just leaving it and maybe the guy that comes here, Royston is the tech named on my order, will be able to handle it. I did the best I could and was unsuccessful at moving it. There we have it. I can only do so much and I'm really wishing Paul was back again. I'd feel better having Paul with me when the guy would come into the house. I'm always on edge, just a little bit, even when they're nice guys. I'll get on here and post something after he leaves. If you don't hear from me, call the cops! Haha!

Right on, SW, aka Marg!!! I really liked that article so much. I feel like printing it out and sending it to a few people who have had "opinions" on how I should be grieving. I'll grab a bright yellow highlighting marker and just run that sucker through the whole article! Haha! Mitch, you made me laugh---sometimes I DO call my little ginger boy, "Frankenstein" when he's misbehaving. He was actually named for Frank Sinatra, (who could also be a bit of a Frankenstein at times from what I've read about him). I'm not really worried about Frankie having ulterior motives----yet. If the day comes that I spot him carrying teeny-weeny salt and pepper shakers or a bottle of hot sauce, then I may become a bit concerned. Joyce, thats such a great idea if you have the right community, but with my neighbors, I'd be afraid of getting into the bartering habit. The one next door never knows when to quit asking for favors and to borrow things. In the past, she's even asked to borrow my deodorant! Um........NO. She's also the one who offered to help me with taking care of the pool, on the condition of her being allowed to access my yard anytime she wants during the summer to go in it. Again. NO. I value my privacy here and do not want to turn my home into a public park. It's also a liability I can't afford. I'd rather just drain the pool and be as self-sufficient as possible. Well, I'm getting ready for a visit this afternoon from the satellite dish repair guy. Yes, there is yet another appliance malfunction! The appointment was originally scheduled for yesterday afternoon, but shortly before he was due to arrive, it began pouring rain. Since the company informed me that the dish issues I've been experiencing are due to needing a new receiver (the man called mine "obsolete" and I felt like he was talking about ME) and a brand new dish itself on the outside of my home, I figured it was pointless for him to still come out. I called and rescheduled. I should have known better. Ten minutes after I rescheduled, it quit raining and the sun was out for the rest of the day. I just shake my head sometimes. It turned out for the best though, because it dawned on me that while I had cleared off the shelf above the TV and where the other equipment is stored, all the wiring and stuff is BEHIND the TV and the shelves underneath that the TV rests upon. That area back there has not seen a vacuum in so long, I'm afraid of what I'll discover. For all I know, Jimmy Hoffa could be back there. Okay, maybe not. But I realized that the whole "pulling everything out so the guy could access it" part of this used to be Paul's job. I never had to worry about it. It didn't even cross my mind until the time drew closer for the man to actually show up. So, after I post this, I'm off to pull the TV out and see what lies beyond! I didn't want to mess with it too early and potentially screw up my cable and everything else. :::heavy sigh::: I don't even know how everything is hooked up---Paul knew all that. Please wish me luck. I need l i can get!

Kay, thank you. You are so kind. I spoke with my elderly friend this afternoon and I was chastised for not calling her back last night. For some reason, she has it in her head that I'm going to fall and when I'm finally found, my cats will have had me for a five course meal. I try to reassure her, but to no avail. Let's just say I take many deep breaths so I can deal with it. Although, now that I think about it, sometimes my cat Frankie does look at me funny. Haha!

Dawn, my grief is complicated, no doubt, by the fact that I have a life long anxiety disorder and was also diagnosed with Crohn's a few years ago. I have to make sure I eat and take care of myself so I don't go into a flare. I also have not had much support at all and my sister compared the stress of what I've been going through to the stress she faces on her job. A job she chose and can retire from or quit if it becomes too much to handle. I, like all of us, did not choose my situation. It was forced on us against our will. I can't "quit" or retire from my husband being gone. If only! I hope you find the journaling freeing and helpful. When I wanted to scream at every person who thought they "knew what I was going through" but never had experienced it, I would sit down and take to my journal and let it ALL out. Honestly, if a sailor or truck driver happened upon those pages, they'd blush! I held nothing back. and afterward, I'd feel just a bit calmer. Sometimes, I'd end up in tears again. It's everything coming out instead of being bottled up. It doesn't happen all at once, but if you keep at it, you should feel at least some of the weight fall off your shoulders. Oh, and although I wish this was true, it isn't a miracle either. I'm still missing Paul and wanting him back all the time. I'm sure it will be that way as long as I live. I still can't believe that this week marks eight months since he died. How that much time flew by is beyond me. It doesn't seem that long.

That's it, Marg. With our husbands by our side, there were still adventures to look forward to. I think the same thing.....Paul and I loved to drive out to the Everglades and watch the wildlife, the breeze moving the water and the swaying sawgrass. Alligators are my thing. What am I supposed to do now? Go out there and---I'll use your example---hold up Paul's urn so he can "look around"? Putting my arms around an urn isn't quite the same. That 89 year old friend who calls every day flips out if I'm not able to answer the phone and will call and call. I get a bit aggravated because, while I understand that she means well, I don't feel the need to inform her of my every move. Sometimes, you just need to ignore the phone and relax. It's my home phone, not an office phone, where I have to jump and pick up by a certain number of rings! The oddest thing-----I had a disturbing dream last night with Paul in it. We were arguing and he was saying such hurtful things. I sure hope that wasn't a "visitation" type dream! No matter, it still woke me up around 4:00am and I never got back to sleep. It bothered me. I have to share something positive that happened today. The neighbor down the street whom Paul had always helped out, finally came through. My grass has been getting rather long since I suspended my lawn service. He called this morning and asked if I would like for him to come down and mow it. I hesitated at first but then told him I would greatly appreciate it. I am so not used to asking for help, but I'm learning to stop allowing pride and stubbornness to get in my way when I truly do need assistance. Now, my grass is cut and knowing he drinks beer, I gave him a half case of Coors Light that Paul had stored in our kitchen. I don't drink alcohol so it would only go to waste. Paul approved, I'm sure.

I know what you mean, rdownes. It's difficult to even imagine any kind of future without my husband. We had plans, but they were for both of us as a couple. It wouldn't be the same if I attempted any of them alone.

Dawn, I was that way by the third month after my husband passed away. It's what brought me to this forum, because I was scared. My sleeping patterns were so messed up, I'd spend the entire day in my pajamas and I'd alternate between being angry at the world and crying inconsolably. It didn't help that January 25 was also the 34th anniversary of our first date. We celebrated that date, too, because it was after that night we both realized we had something special. Paul and I had been considering renewing our vows on our Silver Anniversary, which would have been in March 2017. I knew there was a chance we might not make it to a 50th, but thought certain that we'd see our 25th. As it turned out, we didn't even see our 24th anniversary together. So many things we had planned and none will happen now. One thing that has helped me is journaling. I started writing a journal back in January and just poured out all my anger, frustration, grief and misery into that thing. I didn't care if I sounded like a raving lunatic. No one else is going to see it anyway. It's for YOU alone. It may be something you'd want to try or maybe not. What helps one person might not be another person's "cup of tea". This forum has been a tremendous help for me. When I read the posts from people I didn't even know, yet who wrote things that could have come directly from me, I felt understood for the first time since Paul died. I do wish you well and hope you find something that brings you comfort.

And every so often, SW, my headband falls down over my eyes! Haha! Don't worry about having the strength to fly. I'll pick you up in my invisible plane. I love that picture and the message, too. It is a lot like being on a strange path. Like Hansel and Gretel turning around to look back and realizing all the crumbs were eaten up by those danged birds, the only thing you can do is keep walking on, alone, and do what you can to avoid those candy houses.

Yes, I'm with you, Mitch, and everyone else. What I want more than anything is to just have Paul back again, healthy, and to have my old life with him back, too. But, as Mitch said, (and you put it so well, Mitch), that desire is futile because it isn't going to happen no matter how much energy I invest in it. So, I'm trying to look for the next thing in line that I would want and that's to be able, for the first time ever, to discover who I am---just me---without being someone's daughter, sister, wife, etc. I'm looking inward for strength rather than grasping outward to latch on to somebody else in desperation. Ironically, it's because of Paul and his deep love for me that I am fortunate enough to be able to do this. He took care of me and I did the same for him. I feel responsible now for carrying on that legacy of love that he left to me and not taking it for granted. I'm being very careful in trying to manage everything so as not to mess it all up. It seems so surreal still. I remember when Paul telling me I needed to know stuff "in case something happened to him" was just a conversation. Now, it's become reality, except it doesn't always seem real.

Thank you, Kay! The biggest problem for me is having to combat the physical symptoms that begin manifesting after having regular contact with my BIL. I have an autoimmune condition and it's hard to tell whether I'm having a flare or if my muscle and joint pain are being caused by tension. I experience constant tension when I know my next encounter with him is right around the corner and my body is bracing itself. (Talk about a toxic person!) I'm not even aware of it sometimes until I begin hurting. Maybe it's my imagination, but I get the feeling he wants me to end up having to depend on him the way I depended on Paul and I am making every effort to avoid that sort of situation. It's like this never-ending power struggle. When he sat on that couch, looked at my finances and said he was "proud" of me, all I could think was "would he say that to one of his male friends that had asked for financial advice?". No. Right after Paul had passed and my BIL was supposed to be "helping" me, he looked over how Paul had handled the finances and said, "I"m impressed." Not "I'm proud of him". Not only that, but reading what I just wrote makes me cringe, "I"m impressed"??? Who the hell does he think he is? Oh, if you have my BIL's approval, your life is complete! What more could you p[ossibly want? Pfffttt! Now I'm beginning to think about this some more. I initially asked for BIL's help with safely investing my money because he has always been very good with finances. I needed to talk to someone that I felt might have my best interests at heart. But, if he's always seeing me as his wife's "little sister" and can't treat me like an adult on an equal level, perhaps it would be better for me to seek financial advice from someone who doesn't know me personally. Guess who is the only person who can make this choice? :::sigh::: Haha!

Kay, I like free cake.

George, thank you very much! I will definitely check that web site. I'm trying to educate myself as I go along, but with my colander brain, I sometimes have to return to re-read information. So, it might take me a few tries but I hope I will figure it all out eventually. I'll also look into that book----I'm reading The Tender Scar right now and still love to read those daily grief affirmations. All those resources have really helped give me comfort. Gwen and Joyce, if it's any consolation, I do often feel numb when I watch the news or read the paper. I can still get upset, especially when something has happened to children or animals, but I only have so much room for pain and my own pain takes precedence. I have an 89 year old friend who calls me every single day and half the time she's crying or hysterical over her 60 year old alcoholic son that she makes excuses for. I feel for her and she claims I always manage to calm her down, but I can't help but marvel how I'm the one who lost my husband and she's dumping all her problems on me. She called one night around ten o'clock and I just let it go to voicemail. I was just going to bed and Ithought, "No. I can't do this now." Like you all said, it isn't that I don't care, it's that I have my own pain to deal with and have to know when to say "when". If it was someone a lot younger, I would have simply asked them to quit calling. But, I don't know what it feels like to be 89 and lonely, so I listen to her and try to be her voice of reason. I'm sure I'd want someone to do that for me. Heck, that's why I'm here! To talk and to listen. I have often said I would like to see 89 or even beyond. My goal is to get my face on a Smucker's jar. I want to be grape jelly. Haha! (Today Show viewers will get that one!)

Joyce, thank you so much for the encouragement! You're right. Instead of telling them I can do it, I need to just SHOW them I can do it. I've had trouble making decisions all my life because I was never allowed to really do that. My parents would tell me that something was my choice or my decision to make, but if it didn't align with their choice or agenda, they'd quickly tell me, "No, that isn't what you want. You're wrong. You can't do this without our help." Add to that, some major trust issues, which have only been exacerbated by what's going on with the city pension board (some of these people who are screwing us over worked side by side with my husband when he was still on active duty---he considered them "good friends"). I already experienced the worst possible situation in my life where I had no control whatsoever---the passing of my husband. Maybe that's why I feel the need to be able to control whatever it is I CAN, just to retain my own sanity. It gets sadder and sadder the more I'm hearing on TV about that mass shooting. One, insane person. That's all it takes. And it's so difficult to make sense of it, probably because none exists. I love people and I can't imagine hurting anyone, other than in self-defense.

That's the hardest thing of all, too, isn't it? Having to live when the ones we loved more than anything aren't alive with us. I'll have moments where I panic. I think I'm doing better or going along just fine and then, I'll wake up in the middle of the night panicking. Or, the finality of it all hits me during the day and I'll freak out. I don't have a whole group of other people relying on me either, the way you do Marg, and it still happens to me. So, it seems that it would be normal for you to have the occasional meltdown and maybe not so normal if you DIDN'T. Forgive me for this analogy, but I'm reminded of the safety valve on a propane gas tank (my dad once owned a propane company and I worked in the office, so I think of things like that---haha!). Liquid propane gas expands and contracts, depending on the outside temperature, so tanks are never filled all the way up to the top. It leaves room for the expansion. However, should a tank be accidentally overfilled on a hot day and the gas expands, to avoid the tank rupturing, there is a release on the valve that will "blow" the excess gas off. It scares the bejeebies out of most people, because it makes this loud WHOOSH noise when the safety blows and gas spews into the air. I think when we have our little meltdowns, it's our bodies' safety valves blowing. We've filled ourselves up a little too much and something has to give or risk a total explosion. It's in these moments that I have to resist, with all my might, reverting to the lost little girl side of me. She's still there, but she's learning for the first time to stand up on her own two feet and no longer allow others to tell her she can't take care of herself, as I had done to me in the past. The funniest thing is, in the back of my head, I still have to fight off that fear: "What if they're right and YOU'RE the one that's wrong?". Shoo, noisy little devil on my shoulder! Get outta here! Paul is telling me that I can do this and I believe HIM. Always. Thank you so much Marty, for the vote of confidence! I'm a work in progress.

I just received an email update and now, they're tallying the Orlando attack as 50 dead and over 50 wounded. It's about a four hour drive from where I live and I have younger acquaintances there. (My goddaughter attended and graduated from UCF in Orlando. Some of her friends still live and work there.) So, I just hope and pray that those people are okay and I pray for the victims and their friends and families. My issues with my brother in law can probably best be summed up as having personalities like "oil and water". He apologized for how he behaved the first time he offered his "help" and after what appeared to be a promising start, all of a sudden he's back trying to "take over" again, telling me how I should organize my home or how this is going to be done or that. All I did was ask for his advice on what sort of account or investment would be a safe place for me to roll over the money the pension people are illegally attempting to force the retirees and their surviving spouses---haha, see what I did there?---to remove from the accounts they have now. During a conversation, he asked if there were any other matters I needed taken care of around the house and reluctantly, I mentioned the pool that needs draining and an old sewing desk I needed to get rid of. That's all it took! Then, he looks around and decides he doesn't like my books and magazines and he's telling me I need to do something about that, too. He sits on my couch and looks at me and says, "I'm proud of you. You've been paying your bills and not going crazy with your money." WHAT? So, you're proud that I'm not the idiot you thought I was? First of all, I'm 57 years old, I'm not 10. Secondly, I'm pretty smart and I don't want to end up in financial trouble, if I can help it. I'm really tired of the condescending attitude and what appears to have been a very insincere apology, since he's back using the same passive-aggressive tactics with me. He asked me who ended up doing my taxes (he had recommended his CPA) and I just told him I went to someone my friends recommended. He began telling me how he had given me the name of a highly-respected and competent CPA but if I wanted to go with who my friends told me about, it was my money, my life and I have to be comfortable with my choices. With the tone of voice he was using, it sounded like he needed to be convinced of that fact more than I do. I already know that whatever it is I'm dealing with, it ultimately comes down to me. I don't need his approval or for him to be proud of me. I don't need to make him happy. I need to make ME happy. I'm thinking of telling him the next time we speak, that I'd like to just concentrate for now on the original issue I had asked him about, which was a place to roll over my money. One thing at a time. I do know that I can't control his behavior, so I'm trying to control my reaction to it. I've been allowing him to push my buttons and I need to find a way to stop that in myself. He had me in a very vulnerable state when Paul first passed, but I'm not quite as helpless as he'd like to think. So, that's my tale of woe, but as I said, compared to what others are going through right now, it's more of an aggravation than a true crisis.

I've had my own issues lately (my brother in law is trying to "help" me again---let's just leave it at that) and that's why I took a sabbatical of a few days to get calmed down. I was going to get on here and vent, but then I see what's going on wth Marg and her daughter and the comments about the senseless, horrific terror attack in that club in Orlando that killed at least 20 people and injured around 42 and my "problems" seem pretty lame in comparison. So, I will just say that everyone is in my thoughts and prayers. My heart goes out to all of us.

You're absolutely right, Kay. I come from a family where we were encouraged to hold everything in; the only acceptable emotion was to smile and be cheerful. (All that did for me was to make me feel like the village idiot.) When my Nana died, I began crying when I entered her place for the first time with her not there and I was told by my parents that if I was going to cry, I should leave because no one wanted to deal with that. I thought it was a generational thing, but apparently it's in some peoples' natures to just be that way.

Karen, my heart goes out to you and you are in my prayers. I wish I had something more helpful to say that would help you sleep, but I'm afraid I'm not much better at it myself. The fact that you are here and sharing your feelings is a testament itself to how strong you are.

Patty, I know how hard it's been for me to try and navigate the financial aspects of life without Paul and I cannot begin to imagine how hard it must be when you're operating a business at the same time you are grieving. You need to be more careful with yourself and keep an eye on that thumb. If you think you need to go to an urgent care clinic to have it looked at, do not hesitate. I don't understand the attitudes of people like that ad salesman. You know what? So what if you had to cry? So what? It was an honest emotion and you are such a brave woman to be moving forward, trying to make these decisions on your own. Ron is proud of you, always remember that.

Marg, I know it won't be the same as Billy's shirts, but I'll hand you my crying towel to wipe all your sweat away. I used to use it when I bowled, but boy, the name sure is appropriate for what's going on now. Bitch away! We all have shoulders for you to lean on. Moving can push anyone to the brink. Kay, I didn't even think about that one! You're right! "Single". Seriously? I had to fill out some survey and they didn't even HAVE a "widow" category under marital status. You could choose either "single, living alone" or "single, living with partner or children under the age of 18", unless you were married or whatever, then they had those, too. I sat there for several minutes just re-reading them all. I felt that certainly, I must be missing one. But, nope.

That's much better. I wish government forms and the like would adopt this term.

Kay, Patty was the one with the unbelievably heartless insurance agent. But, I've dealt with others who are equally clueless and cold---we probably ALL have at some point after our losses. We don't have the plates that are front and back---only on the back. Right now, Paul's truck is backed in to our carport. We don't have a garage (one of the reason we were looking for a ew home at the time he passed was because Paul dreamt of having a garage for the vehicles and all his tools). He also has his '85 El Camino, but I don't drive that either. It's not in the best condition and I'm not sure it's reliable. I'm thinking about the renewal notice for our insurance that will arrive some time during the summer months. I paid the insurance on all three vehicles with the last notice at the start of 2016, but I'm wondering if I can save myself some money by insuring my PT Cruiser alone (I'll definitely look into that "storage" insurance, too--thank you, Kay!). These are the things I hate so much. Yes, Patty, HATE is exactly how it feels when you're dealing with stuff that is impossibly difficult and painful. You're between a rock and a hard place. Paying more money than I needed to was what finally kicked my butt to do something about Paul's cell phone. I paid the extra money for two phones for two months after Paul had passed and wasn't even using it any longer. There was something comforting about knowing his phone was still activated, as if somehow a part of him still lingered on this side of the "veil". Of course, then my washer unexpectedly broke down, I had to spend almost $900.00 for a new one, my brother in law threw his tantrum and quit doing my lawn so I had to pay money for a lawn service---all these things were happening and I knew I had to take some action to save money that was now needed in other areas. Patty, I also remember the first time I had to say I was a "widow" and yep, I burst into tears, too. I didn't want to say it, it was far too painful! I think I barely managed to choke it out. When I'm talking to someone, I still say I'm "Paul's wife" because I am. A while back, a few of us on here expressed our total disdain for that word "widow" or "widower". Why can't we find another term and relegate that word to wherever the word "spinster" was placed in storage. No one uses that one anymore! How about separated? We're separated, just not by choice, the way it is before couples divorce. Patty, you are strong enough. We are all strong enough. It's one of the most important and helpful things I've learned on here from talking with everyone else. It's helped to realize that grief isn't a linear process. That lesson was a biggie for me. At first, I thought I should be going from A to B and then, on to C, etc. and callous, uncaring family members were only reinforcing that belief system in me. Which turned out to be totally WRONG. That was what was better for THEM. I was feeling worse than ever and helpless. I can't thank everyone on this forum enough for figuratively picking me up off the floor, sitting me down in a chair and sharing their own stories with me so that I could see for myself that everything I was going through and feeling wasn't "abnormal" or "wrong". They validated my feelings that it was my family members who were out of line. I'm still in pain, I still get frightened from time to time, I will always love and miss Paul---forever---but I feel stronger now than I felt in February. I'm calmer and have more of a wait and see attitude than one of panicking every time I get a bill or hear disturbing news. When it gets too much, I get on here and get it out of me and everyone rallies around you. It's a wonderful feeling that we're here for each other, even though it's the worst pain that brings us together.

Thank you for that, Maryann. Do you know that I did the same thing with a message that my Paul had left on our voicemail a long time ago? It was from two years before he passed away and he had gone up to New Jersey for his father's funeral. All he said was "Just me. Talk to you later." I wish there had been more. But, I recorded it onto my iPhone, my iPad and then transferred it onto my iMac, too. I am making sure I do NOT ever lose that. Sometimes, when I've been having one of my bad days, I'll sit at my computer and play that small snippet again and again......... I close my eyes and picture him. Eventually, I guess I'm going to have to sell his truck. I don't want to have to pay money for insurance on something I don't even drive. Unless anyone has a suggestion! A neighbor mentioned taking the plate off the truck and not renewing the insurance. But, does anyone have any idea if that would hinder my selling it if I decided to go that route? I have no idea about cars and such.