Eagle-96

I get anxiety when I think about going through Lori's clothes but then I remember it's right when I think it's right. Sometimes I have to be reminded of that(thanks Mitch). And that time may never come, and it's ok if it doesn't. The one thing that weighs on my mind and heart is my wedding ring. I have no plans to remove it but it's like I am being dishonest for wearing it(I think Tom brought this up earlier). Then I think that people pity me when they see me wear it. "Oh poor Sean still thinks he's married". Truth be told, I still feel like I am married and probably always will. BTW Mitch, Don't ever feel guilty for feeling good every now and then. It's ok to smile. It's ok to laugh. It's ok to feel hope. We have so many bad feelings in our grief that we must embrace ANY good feelings we get no matter how small or how fleeting.

I still cringe at the reaction of your sister. I can't fathom that someone would rather gamble(or do anything) rather than get you to your husband as soon as they could. I am so sorry for that. Kay, You didn't desert him. You were held out of the room by the doctors and nurses. It wasn't your choice. It's strange that they think they are doing us a favor by keeping us out, when in reality we want desperately to be there to see them through their transition.

Here's hoping that you can muster the strength to make it through both of these things.

It's not a babble Gwen. Sometimes we just need to release some steam so the boiler doesn't explode. It seems like a lot of emotions and difficulties are piling up on you at once. I am sorry you are dealing with all of it. My first doctors visit after Lori died I found out that my doctor of 20 years had retired. It was quite a punch to the gut so I know how difficult that can be. Praying for peace and comfort for you.

It's funny how something we might have taken for granted for so long means so very much now. I wore my ring every day we were married and really never paid it much mind. It was just something I wore. Sure it had meaning. It was the symbol of my commitment to Lori but I really never gave it a lot of thought. Now it means everything to me. I want people to see it and ask about my wife. I want to tell our story. Funny how the things that were so normal and maybe even mundane before seem like Mt Everest now.

Makes me cringe every time I hear someone lay conditions or time-frames on our grief. After everything we see and hear during this process I guess we shouldn't really be surprised. I'm sorry you visualize seeing her there like that. I know the visions are hard and I truly hope those will fade from your mind. I go over the few moments of CPR with Lori in my head constantly. And then the 2nd guessing hits me full force. It's in the bathroom I and guests at the house use most often. I'm in there every day and I can see her lying there struggling to live. I honestly don't think people understand that we went from the happiest we have ever been to the saddest in one second.

It was all so quick for me too. At 3:29 AM on 04/01/17 I was happily married. At 3:30 AM my world is spinning as Lori was having a heart attack. At 10:43 AM on 04/01/17 I was a widower. From Eden to the desert in a heartbeat(literally). I go on and shuffle through the minutiae of the day but I also ask myself, "what's the point". Every day is another day of me wanting to be with Lori. It's like the movie Groundhog Day. Same thing, different day. Except I can't fathom this movie having a happy ending.

Understood Tom. The only opinion on the matter that should count is yours. I'm glad you feel that way. It is hard for me to fathom taking it off. I kept it on throughout our marriage 24/7. I took it off once while in the shower and forgot to put it back on for work. I felt naked without it. So in 13 years I have had it off for a total of about nine hours. I hated every minute of it so I will probably never take it off again.

I still wear my ring and I intend to keep doing so. The family and friends that knew and loved Lori know why I continue to wear the ring so no explanation is needed for them. The ones I will encounter who never knew Lori will receive the explanation that "I was married for thirteen years and I am now a widower. I will always be married to Lori. If you have an issue with me still wearing my wedding ring then we can part ways now". Tom, Courage has nothing to do with it. You wear the ring as long as you want to. If people have an issue then it's THEIR issue not yours. In your heart you will always be married. You will always be T & S. Show the world that she is still yours and you are still hers.

Don't beat yourself up too much Dave. You did the best you could under the circumstances. The Pacific will be there when your are ready and able to make the trip. I'm sure she would be proud of your efforts and with the knowledge that you intend to keep your word. I hope you can make it soon.

I haven't touched Lori's side of the closet or bathroom. My mind knows she's gone but my heart tells me that she might need her brush or her favorite pajamas. I know it's crazy because she won't ever need them again but I just can't bring myself to move anything. It is a quiet comfort to see her things as she left them. It's a touchstone of sorts. My brother in laws dad just cleared out his wife's closet and it has been two and a half years. Maybe one day but not yet.

Sugar-coating is the worst thing we can do. It's like the doctor who knows there is no hope but still tells the family there is a chance. It's just setting people up for a fall. I remember coming onto one of the forums and the first post in response to my initial post said "normal is over now, you can forget those days". It was harsh but true and I appreciated the posters candor. It would have been easy for them to say "it's all going to be fine" but that would not have done me any good.

I mark the calendar at work every day and whisper, "One day closer to you Lori". It's sadly the only thing I have to look forward to anymore.

Well, I got a call from the funeral home saying they laid the marker for Lori. Sort of brings a brand new reality to this. I mean, I know she's gone but each little thing sort of twists the knife a little bit more. When I heard the message from the funeral home it was everything I could do to hold it together at my desk at work. I know it's just a piece of bronze on top of a granite square. It's a benign inanimate object carved by a person who never met Lori and knows nothing about how special she was. It marks a spot on the ground that holds the shell she used for 46 years. It's not her there in the ground. So why does it hurt so much all over again?

There are so many things about this that cannot be explained to those that have not gone through it. No amount of words can prepare someone for what we endure. I honestly don't think I could sit down and begin to try to prepare someone I knew was about to go through this. Not that I wouldn't want to, but I don't think it's possible.

Cookie, Either she is really great at wearing her grief mask or she simply didn't have the kind of relationship that most of us on the forum did. She may not realize that her mask gives off the false appearance. You are not behind. You are exactly where you should be on your journey.

That just goes to show that we, as grievers, sometimes forget what our fellow grievers are experiencing. We get caught up in our own situation and forget that grief has many faces and is with us as long as IT wants to be. I know the conversation you are referring to and I was also taken aback. What I have found through this journey is that I have to stop down and reflect from time to time. A reset, if you will, to remember that I am not the only one grieving Lori. I have to take the time to check on her friends and family. To be there for them and provide them the support they need on their journey. It's not easy because I tend to focus on my intense pain and sadness. I am always glad when those reminders come because it allows me to heal while also helping others to heal as well. Kay, know this. I find your advice and assistance invaluable as it provides me with a road-map to your grief(even though mine is not the same) and helps me along my path.

We have nobody to bounce ideas or hopes off of. We don't have that one person to go to for counsel in the decisions of life. We don't have that person that has our back no matter what. That is a hard reality to get used to.

I've said it before but it bears repeating. When we don't "get over" our loss in the time-frame our so-called friends deem appropriate then WE are the ones in the wrong. We are the living reminder of the ultimate pain in life and people want us to move on as quickly as possible so as to assuage their own fears. They don't want to imagine themselves in our position, but sadly 50% of them will be there whether they want to or not. If they see us "move on" quickly then there is hope for them in their future grief. They see us have one fleeting moment of happiness(the reality is that that moment is really just less crappy than the other ones in our lives) and they extrapolate that to, "they are happy again" or "they are getting over it". In their mind we are better and that makes them feel better. What they don't see is the other 99% of our day spent in pain and despair. Ahhhh, to see the world through rose colored glasses again.

Aimless existence is an understatement if there ever was one. Before 04/01/17, I was living. Lori and I had an amazing life that Shakespeare could not have penned any more eloquently. After that day I started existing. Fighting with everything I have to get through each day of despair just to get to another day filled with despair. My reward for soldiering on is to get more grief the next day. But fight on we do. I saw a quote somewhere that said our journey is like being drafted into war. We didn't volunteer for the service but we are fighting like Hell with everything we got in the face of unbelievable odds. I guess it's kind of like being on the beach at Normandy on D-Day. Every morning we wake up and the run onto the beach amidst a hail of bullets and bombs. And we do it all over again the next day.

Reminds me of the quote: "Through my grieving process I don't want to be admired for my strength nor pitied for my weakness. I just want to be understood. Some days I may be strong. Some days I may be weak. I chose neither".

It's sad that sometimes it gets to that point where you have to be blunt and tell it like it is. I had someone in my life post on FB that they were so sad that they(niece and her husband) had to move out of their trailer and move in with my parents. They wouldn't get to be near their friends and life was changing and it was so sad. He lost the trailer because he refused to work for 2 years and wanted to just take free handouts. Not to mention that he hoarded and left the trailer in shambles. BOO HOO. I wanted to tell him that anytime he wants to trade places with me just hit me up.

I feel you. It's such a hard reality to see. What was once a duo, a team, a pair reduced to one. I still refer to OUR house, HER car, or restaurants WE like. Maybe it's my mind refusing to accept the reality that she's gone. Maybe I want the concept of us to live on. Maybe in my heart it will never truly be over. Just so sad to contemplate.

Right on. As if we have a say so in the matter. It always comes back to, "If they only knew". And they don't know. They have no clue what our daily lives look like now. They're used to the "old" us that we were before the worst day in our lives. They see us for a few minutes or a few hours with our mask on and think "Wow, Tom sure is doing great". We ought to invite them along to see 24 hours in the life. Introduce them to our new reality.

I know a marriage takes work and really is a full-time job, but it is wonderful to read about the stories of the marriages that were easy. Easy in the sense that they didn't seem like work at all. Lori and I just fit. We just clicked. Sure we argued and had disagreements but her words to my SIL "We just get each other" should be on the coat of arms of our marriage. Loving Lori was simple, easy, effortless. I almost feel guilty when I see friends that have to fight tooth and nail to keep their marriages together when our marriage was a well oiled machine. It also brings back the reality that I lost a REALLY REALLY great thing.