widow'15

Your words are very much appreciated and I thank you for each kind word and your forgiveness. You and your wife were fortunate to have had that wonderful last Valentine Day together to share your love with each other. You have beautiful memories to be cherished. I do feel blessed to know that my husband’s last words to me were that he loved me and I was able to tell him I loved him and good night, will see you in the morning. I treasure those words and can still hear him saying it. If only I could have a recording of those last words. Dee

Rahn: So very sorry for your loss. After three years I am still trying to solve my feelings of guilt. I don't have answers for you, but after your having the opportunity to talk with your wife about your disagreements says a lot how much you two loved one another. Your loss is so new right now. I would guess managing to get through one day at a time, you will get to the place where you can forgive yourself. After spending four days in the hospital fighting an infection recovering from bladder cancer surgery, my husband was scheduled to come home the following day, (he had his bladder removed). As luck would have it, my 2 adult kids and I spent the day dealing with some plumbing issues in my home. After plumbers left, instead of going to see him that evening, I decided I would get some good sleep, go to my doctor's appointment the next morning then go to the hospital. He was scheduled to be released the next day. I asked my son if he would mind going to the hospital to see his Dad on his way home and he said he was planning to go anyway since he hadn't seen his Dad for a few days. About that time, the phone rang and it was my husband asking about the plumbing issue and we were able to tell him, it was all taken care of. I explained to him I was terribly exhausted and would he mind if I waited until the next morning after my doctor's appointment and then I'd be bringing him home. He said of course, that would be fine and he loved me and would be happy to be coming home. About an hour later, the phone is ringing and my son is sobbing, "Dad is having some kind of an attack". My daughter and I jumped in her truck, got to the hospital as they were still trying to revive him, but to no avail. Don't know if I ever will forgive myself for not being there with him. I couldn't have changed the outcome, but I should have been there. Keeping you in my thoughts. Dee

For the past year I have visited your site and found solace in reading how each of you have managed to go on in your individual way. Your strength in sharing your life has helped me in many ways, mainly that I am not alone. Despite this, some days I feel I am totally alone. My two children have their own complicated lives and barely seem to manage their problems so I feel I can't dump my loneliness on them as they are also dealing with the loss of a Dad that gave them an amazing childhood. My son, lives at least an hour away, is in a shaky relationship and has a job that keeps him away from his home sometimes10+ hours a day. My daughter lives a six hour drive from me, has a loving, supportive husband but has to deal with daily debilitating chronic pain. Life used to be comfortable, full and happily lived with my husband as we enjoyed our low keyed life for over 50 years; retired, being grandparents and living the life we chose. Since I did not grow up in the town where we met and married, the friends and family we had as a couple were primarily his, and have for different reasons dropped from my life. I don't blame them. I do understand everyone has their own busy lives. I have to take a good part of the blame for being alone. They were his friends and family, and being somewhat of an introvert, I find it challenging to put myself out into new situations to make friends or instigate a lunch or visit. Additionally, minor health issues keep me from being able to jump in my car and get out and about as I used to do. Since his death happened suddenly, my first year as a widow was involved with paperwork, sorting through financial issues, learning how to manage a house on my own, trying to downsize, etc. The second year I continued on in my lonely, singular life and managed somehow. And now, this third year, there are days when something creeps up on me, out of nowhere, and tells me, "Oh no, you can't do this" and now I am beginning to believe I can't do this. A trigger moment can make me break down and crumble into a blob of tears, heartache and fear. I constantly ask, "Why did he have to go before me? I was supposed to go first". He was the gregarious, loved every-moment-of-life man that saw adventure and beauty in nature and life. He never met anyone he couldn't have a conversation with about almost anything. Daily I tell my love I won't give up, but sometimes, a switch is flipped, and the pain stabs me where my heart used to be. Last week, I thought I could go into his workshop and find something I needed and as I stepped through the door, I could hardly see past the flow of tears. As l continue to visit your site, I want to say how much I appreciate you all being there.Dee