I wish I'd found this site earlier. My husband was killed last Spring, on the day before my birthday. After several tough years we were on the "vacation of a lifetime," a month in New Zealand. Two weeks into the trip a tour bus backed over Rich. I was not with him at the time. He was Medivacced by helicopter to the local hospital but I never saw him alive again. I never had a chance to say goodbye. I flew home by myself, a 22-hour trip. He is Canadian and wanted to be buried in Canada. So I had his remains sent from New Zealand to Boston (our home), and then, when I knew where in Canada he wanted to rest, from Boston to Canada. I dealt with 3 funeral homes in 3 countries, 3 death bureaucracies, 3 sets of fees and remains transport costs. I honestly don't know how I did it. I guess I was in shock. I can't put Closed to the story, because there was an inquest into his death, and the government of New Zealand has decided to prosecute the bus driver, for their equivalent of vehicular homicide. The driver has pleaded Not Guilty, so she will go to trial and now I must continue to deal with the New Zealand police and government, and the slow process of their law.
Rich and I were together for 42 years. He was the love of my life and my best friend. We had no children and I have no surviving relatives. My mother died two years ago and I am still sorting her stuff, and now Rich's. When it asks to put "next of kin" on forms, I just write "none." I'm fortunate to have friends who have become good, best friends and support me well. But they are not Rich, and they don't understand what I'm going through, although they really try.
I guess I'm learning how to handle the grief. I was diagnosed with PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), and was treated for that. But my life is filled with emotional land mines. Just when I think I've got myself under control, and feel sort of okay, I stumble into an event we used to attend together, or a can of food Rich bought before he was killed, or a book he loved, and everything explodes. I deal with it, but I'm exhausted, physically and emotionally. Some days I can't get out of bed, not from depression, but simply because I am too tired. I guess I want to know, How do people deal with these land mines? They are wearing me out. That said, it's good to be in this group.