Brad

Thank you, my friends.  This is so moving.  Especially "Yo queria" and "Mi vida sin tu amor".  My music library keeps expanding.

It has been quite a while since I've shared here; trust me you have never been far from my mind.  I'm now in the third year of grief.  For me, it is not as bad as the first two years were.  I still struggle to find joy but I have been able to find more happiness than sadness.  The challenge is to find contentment in my home.  I still go to bed very early just to move onto the next day.

I am fortunate in that I've been able to return to something I love: teaching.  For me, it 's a delightful distraction.  It allows me to focus on something other than my pain.  It gives me the thrill of watching the excitement of new discoveries.  It also gives me the ability to travel more, do more, take in more, than I could have had I not returned to my classroom.  

I've mentioned my friend whose husband is late stage Lewy Body.  It is nice to have someone with like interests: hiking, traveling, theatre, ballet, music and the arts.  People always jump to the conclusion we are dating; we aren't.  We are two lonely people who can commiserate with each other.  In each other, we have found companionship.  

For me the lack of meaningful human contact that has been the hardest challenge.  I can socialize but I end up finding excuses to leave early because so many people just cannot understand.  I gravitate to those who do.

Compared with where I was at two years ago, I am better.  Compared with where I was at on July 24, 2015, and before, I still have a very long way to go.

I saw a quote: don't know from whom, but it went something like this:

If you're sad you're looking toward the past.  If you're anxious you're looking toward the future.  If you're happy you're looking at today.

While I generally don't pay much attention to short truisms, I do try more to look at today and try to spend less time looking at yesterday.

On 10/22/2017 at 1:30 PM, TONY said:

My husband of 6 years just died of cancer and sometimes when I think back at those last days . I am so heartbroken that I could have done more. Even though I took him to every doctor appointment and loved him . I feel like I failed and miss him so much .l

Tony, 

I am so very sorry you have reason to be here. 

I don’t know if this will help but my first support group counselor always stressed that when we feel as if we failed our loved ones to remember everything you did was motivated by your love for your spouse and based on the best information you had. 

I lost my wife twenty-seven months ago, just got past her birthday a week ago; many tears, but I am finding joy again. I have a dear friend now whose husband is late stage Lewy Bodies Disease. We can talk and that’s something I haven’t found with others. So that’s good. 

Be kind to yourself. 

On 10/10/2017 at 5:47 PM, Janka said:

My dearest friend!

I can´t explain you what I´ve been going through so far,but I´ll tell you when the right time comes.

If you can put your postal address in PM,I´ll write you the more in the letter then.I promise you that.

 

My dear Janka, 

I’m so sorry to hear how you’re struggling. With grief, timing is everything and I understand. There will be a right time for you to write your thoughts and pain. 

I’m not here as much since I’ve gone back to teaching. But I do think about all of us frequently. 

I do hope life is better than it was a few weeks ago. 

You have shared so much wonderful music with me.  I think of you every time Ernesto comes on.  Thank you for that.

Your dear friend

Brad 

I am so very sorry Butch. 

It is nice to be back at school.  I had forgotten how much I enjoy the kids.  The distractions are wonderful.  The only downside is coming home.  For thirty-seven years, there'd be a hot cup of coffee and a wonderful woman to share our days with.  Now it's making dinner, get ready for tomorrow and count the minutes until I can go to bed.  

Well,  I start tomorrow and although I've already had forty first days of school, this one seems to have created a bit more anxiety than they did in the past.  I'm still amazed at how one of the side-effects of grief is what a beating my self-confidence has taken.  

I've decided that if I can handle three years of teaching, and if I can learn to live a more spartan life, and if I can save enough, then I'd like to spend a year in Europe, sectioning the continent into a dozen regions and the spend a month in each region.  Of course, that is a lot of ifs, but the last trip was so good for me, it proved to have a significant impact on my frame of mind.  

But then I always go back to the old saying: "If you ever wish to make God laugh, tell Him your plans."

6 hours ago, TomPB said:

I'm still saying "we". Sometimes add "I guess I should be saying "I" now". Too sad...

It's been two years and eleven days; we, our, us, are all still active parts of my vocabulary.  I am striving to make that transition from BradnDeedo to Brad.  I am finding success but it is, and always will be, a struggle.

Not to gloat but we've been in our monsoons since mid-July.  I personally haven't seen anything over 80 in three weeks.  You all are invited to come on over and cool off, lots of hiking in the area.

On 7/12/2017 at 0:44 PM, TomPB said:

Sometimes I feel like I died with Susan and am now a ghost, not really here, no longer concerned with "small problems", moving among the real people but half way to the other side. 

 

For me, I still feel like I am stuck in someone else's life.  This can't be mine now....but it is.  I've never had to make such a conscious effort to move in any direction as I do now.  I was just talking to a dear friend whose husband is late stage Lewy Body disease and the discussion turned into how shaken our confidence in ourselves has become.  I used to know where I was headed in life; now it seems to have swallowed me.  

I've heard from so many how much work it takes to have a good relationship.  For Deedo and I, it was as easy as slipping on an icy sidewalk; it just happened and it was wonderful.

Well, life is indeed interesting.  So many changes, so much to process, so many emotions all colliding and leaving me feeling in and out of the twilight zone (cue Rod Serling).  All in all, things are significantly better than they were a year ago and yet I still find myself crumbling for now apparent reason other than a moment of reflection.  I probably will for the rest of my life.  You know things are better because I seldom report and contribute, I still lurk in the background but not with the frequency of the past.  

I made it through the dreaded two-year anniversary; it was a struggle that started about ten days before that horrible date.  I had actually been rather good since my return from Europe, and then...  For the next ten days, it was a daily struggle to stay focused on the present and not the past; lots of tears keeping my cheeks wet; the distance between my mind and my heart growing galactically by the minute.  But I survived last Saturday, not as I would like, but I survived.  

And then Sunday I got up and decided to return to teaching!  The teacher who replaced me is leaving and I had the opportunity to get my old classroom back.  Those who know me know I had four major loves in my life: first, foremost, and always, my Deedo; second and thirdly, my kids and grandkids (not necessarily in that order); and then there were my classes.  Oh, how I loved teaching.  

For the past two years, every time I felt the need for help, I would walk.  So I walked and walked and walked some more; I've covered nearly five-thousand miles walking since my wife passed.  Needless to say, very few of those miles included walking with others.  I have a friend who enjoys hiking as much as I do but she lives two-hundred miles away; so we hike when we can but that's only a few times a year.  I tried a hiking club but it didn't work out (six water/potty breaks on a five-mile hike).  So my time has been spent largely by myself, talking to myself (frankly I'm not that interesting and I know all of my stories by now)  By throwing in the towel on retirement, for a few years, I will be forced to leave the house in the morning and interact with humans (if you can call teenagers that) for a significant part of the day.  Since the decision was made, I haven't had time to think about the past, only about how many hoops I need to jump through to get my certificate renewed.  Once I'm good to go it'll be back to something I really enjoy, something that will help me to focus on being Brad, no longer BradnDeedo.

I do want to thank everyone here.  By sharing your pain, you've helped me experience and cope with mine.  I truly hope it has been reciprocated.  For those who are just joining us, I share your pain and hope you know that someday, life will be better.  My gratitude extends far beyone my limited skills to express; know that I truly appreciate everyone here.

My Dear MBBH-

I  am so sorry to hear you have reason to join our group.  The emotions you feel are so raw and so new.  Seven months is such a difficult time.  I understand you being there at this moment and will be there for a very long time to come.  It sounds as if you are doing all you can at this time.  Grief is such a challenge.  You wrote of "We" and, for me, that was a difficult challenge.  Since 1978 "we" were "BradnDeedo".  It's been nearly twenty-three months for me and I am just starting to learn how to become "Brad" again.  I can tell you this: It does get better.  Someday, you will realize you went an hour, a few hours, maybe a whole day without crying.  Someday, you will find yourself smiling or even chuckling for a bit.  Someday, you may even find a modicum of peace with where you are and where you are heading.  Until then, hold on.  Until then, understand that the sorrow will never end, but you will find a way to find a future without him.  

I wish you peace.  I wish you comfort.

Brad

My Dear Janka -

I am so sorry we weren't able to get together.  You live in a spectacular part of Europe by the way and I would have so much enjoyed meeting for lunch.

I love your poems and choice of music.

Brad

Hello All,

I'm back and am starting to settle back in.  The trip was better than I ever hoped for.  It was a journey Deedo would not have enjoyed as it was centered around all of my interests and passions like operas, concerts, museums, history, and churches; and walking and walking and climbing and more climbing.  It was wonderful for me and allowed me to put my life in a different perspective; I hope.  I met many wonderful, kind and caring people everywhere I went; eleven countries, seventeen cities.  Once I catch up on my sleep and doctor appointments I'll participate more.

Hope all is well and know that more than once I lurked in when I couldn't sleep.  

Plitvice Lakes, Croatia

Ana -

I can't imagine going through what you face daily.  You're right; the thirties are for building for the future, not facing the end of dreams.  I want to believe that you will someday be strong enough to find genuine joy in what your friends are finding but then I also believe that it will always be tainted by what you lost.  

Espero que usted encuentre paz mi amiga.

Brad

Gin - What a nightmare.  I personally believe that those of us who are struggling with intense grief should be exempt from all of the other miseries of daily life.  I am so sorry!

Brad

Oh! Butch - I am so very sorry.  Please share my condolences with your family.  You and they have been through so much.

AB,

It has only been a few months for you.  You are still so early into this journey.  If I may, I'd like to caution you about second-guessing the past.  What you did, you did because you were looking ahead.  Your fiancé had health issues and you knew that the best thing you could do would be to create a stable environment.  Otherwise, your actions were based on love and the best information you had.  What was lacking was knowledge about the future.  

I don't know if "those things" are meant to bring us happiness but they are meant to bring us security.  Happiness is found in sharing with others experiences that enrich our lives.  At least that is what I've always found for me.  Now we are missing that one special person life does seem empty and lonely.  For my trip, I booked various operas, concerts, and musicals in the cities I will be traveling to.  For each event, I booked two tickets with the hopes that I might be able to find someone on the tour who would like to go to an event with me.  I did this simply because going alone sounds daunting.  I want to share this with someone.  

My hope for you, today, is that you can be kind to yourself.  You spent time concerned with your future and that isn't a bad thing.  My marriage was about as perfect as any I have ever seen.  We sailed through thirty-seven years without a hiccup.  Deedo loved me and I her; unconditionally.  And yet, if I allow myself, I regret the times I spent on the computer, reading, working in the yard; times that I wasn't worshiping her.  But then these times were all part of who we were; they were also what made our relationship so unique.

Cookie -

Of course, you adored him and everything you did, you did out of love.  I know from experience how difficult it is to watch someone you love so deeply suffer.  Those last months, weeks, days, we were caregivers.  We were doing everything in our power to provide love and comfort.  You were providing CPR to keep him with you longer.  I have guilt from those last days because I knew Deedo was dying and I hated so much to see her suffer; I hoped that she would pass in her sleep.  It wasn't that I wanted to lose her, it was I wanted her pain and misery to end.  The fact that you were fighting for his life indicates the depth of love and adoration you felt for John.  Be kind to yourself, you did all you could and loved John deeply.

1 hour ago, Froggie4635 said:

Now that I have gained my independence (and really enjoying it), and have a strong need to stand alone and come out from under her protectiveness. Part of me believes I haven't shouldered the full brunt of my grief just yet, or am I misguided? She still wants me to call her when I get to work, and when I get home...and I am beginning to feel a bit smothered.  Is that wrong?  

She kind of wants to mother me, and I am having a hard time with that.  Do you think my relationship with her has been a crutch of some sort?  I just feel this strong desire to stand on my own and face grief.  I have had so much support this entire time from friends and co-workers, and of course from Mark's family.  I just feel the need to step out from the protection.  

 

Maryanne -

My children are very protective of me but they don't call me when they get to work.  My youngest son calls every day, either on his way to work or on his way home; depending on his schedule.  My daughter will call most days, but not always, on her way home.  My oldest will call sometimes weekly, sometimes a couple of times in a week.  I would feel smothered if any of them called twice daily.  I don't think Deedo ever called her mom twice every day.  So to answer your question "Is that wrong?"  In my opinion: nope; I think those feelings are fully justified,

I do think that your relationship with her is more of a crutch for her.  I understand your need to "stand on your own and face grief".  If there is one thing I've learned is that although we all share this common denominator, each of us needs to face grief on our own.  There is no consigning it to anyone else.

For myself, it seems to be a bit of a conundrum; I maintain a sense of devotion and commitment to Deedo and yet I miss human contact.  This forum is wonderful but it does not meet my need to have face to face interaction.  As with many things I play mind games.  I have a friend in the Valley.  We go out for dinners together, we attend concerts and musicals together, we hike together; we are not dating.  We are doing many of those things dating couples do but we are not dating.  She is still married even though her husband left her in all ways but body over the past several years.  He has Lewy Body disease and is in the final stages where he rarely knows she is there.  In my mind, I am still married to Deedo.  I still wear my wedding ring with hers on the pinky finger next to it.  For me, it isn't as much a sense of betrayal.  In Deedo's final letter to me, she wrote that she wanted me to grieve for a short amount of time but that she wanted me to find companionship.  It is companionship I now find myself longing for.   I am not looking for romance.  I have no desire to marry again.  I simply want someone to have a meal with; someone to share travel with, someone to go to a movie with.

I've written before how I choose to believe I will be with Deedo again; it brings me comfort, and what that afterlife will be I haven't got a clue.  I do know that my idea of an afterlife is not remotely close to traditional Judeo-Christian ideology regarding Heaven and Hell.  I know this is a choice.  If this life is all there is then once I die I will not know anything more, hence, I will not realize I was wrong.  If Deedo and I are not together then I assume I will understand why and will be okay with that: or else I will not have any memory of her, not dissimilar to being born here on Earth, assuming there were possible prior existences.  In either case, it is what it is and I will be okay.  So I choose to believe that we are destined to find each other and travel together come what may.

5 hours ago, Cookie said:

I'm a little worried about that too, but feel like maybe I need some more release.  I have such a hard time dealing with just feeling all this.  I also would like to contribute in some way to an understanding of what we are all going through.  But, I don't think this is for everyone.  Good to talk to you Gwenivere.  I'll let you know how it goes.  I'm a little anxious....Cookie

 

I was impressed with how compassionate Erin is.  More than once she asked me if I needed a break to compose myself.  I was concerned that my tears would make her uncomfortable but she was very warm and accepting.

Marg -

I leave in two weeks and will be gone for two months.  I'll check back in when I return.