shebert56

Today is my second day of really bad grieving. I think some of mine is that I've been pushing it aside for other things that needed attention. Those things are coming to a close. Also Halloween approaching. It was one of Stephen's favorite holidays. I've been invited to join a neighbor that night, and I may do that. If I feel like doing it. I give myself permission to do or not do. Yesterday I took the pup for a walk around the neighborhood, wearing sunglasses and crying most of the way. I still needed to get out. Retiring a year ago was such a joyous occasion for me, and trust me, I am so grateful that I was able to spend as much of my days as possible helping Stephen through his all too brief cancer journey. And no, I don't need nor want to go back to work. But I've got to find a way to refocus my soul elsewhere. There are a group of retired ladies in my neighborhood who lunch together once a month. I hear it's mostly a gossip session, so not sure that's what I really need right now. The silence doesn't bother me one way or the other. I have no anxiety in the mornings or going to bed at night. It's middle of the afternoon for me. So guess I need to find a distraction to fill that void. I am not "feeling" Stephen as I so clearly did the first month, and I am mourning that as well. Gosh, grief is a vicious circle. I have ordered a book on grief that was recommended on another post here. Wishing everyone moments of peace amongst the chaos. ~Shirley

Same wishes here Katie. Glad to know you took care of you. Let your soul start healing surrounded by your sons. We love you Katie.

Cr@p, I woke up yesterday perfectly fine, then had some sort of lower back muscle spasm big time. It even hurts when I take a very deep breath. Thank you Stephen for the muscle relaxers, the prescription ibuprofen, and the walker (who we affectionately call Gladys). Slept great, even got up during the night twice for bathroom, without an issue. Putting my feet on the floor this morning was another animal! So I will baby my back, ice and heat, gentle stretching, not staying in one place overly long (laying, sitting, standing). I am not irritated nor sad that I'm dealing with this alone. I have zero doubt Stephen is with me as I can feel a very warm comforting energy. I am learning to take it one day at a time. Saying that, but truly feeling that, are two different things. ~Shirley

I am so so sorry for your loss and your pain. I am two months post unexpected loss, and I recall vividly all of the feelings you are having. Come here to this place when you need to talk, as we all sincerely care. Be sure to make time to take care of you. Eat, even if a morsel, whenever you can. Stop and take a deep breath. We love you and are here for you. ~Shirley

Dee, I've got an appt first week in Nov with eye doc to check things out. Dad had macular degeneration. I take my eyes seriously which is why I'm having it checked out. If it's just the cataract, I know I can put that off until I move back home and am among family. My eye doc is like 1/4 a mile from my home, but the surgery center is way farther. And I don't have a support system to call upon to ask to be driven that far. I could ask a neighbor if push came to shove, but not necessary yet. Gwen, I hear you. Each bump I encounter seems like a hill. I just make myself start climbing. ~Shirley

I went this morning to get my flu shot. I was really anxious about it, being alone without Stephen. But I woke up this morning deciding I would not be fearful and got it done. I'm not allergic to eggs, but I've become intolerant to them. Cooked alone they go right through me. Cooked in food (like a cake, quiche, etc.), they don't bother me. I eat them anyway, as I love them. Last night I noticed that my eyesight is changing. I've got cataracts (most of us do as we age), but I'm starting to see a slight halo in one eye when looking at the moon or a street light. I don't drive at night unless it's absolutely critical to do so. Not having anything done until I move back home to Louisiana next year, where I have family and friends. Having this done here, alone, isn't comfortable for me. But I'm due for a checkup, so will schedule that just to ensure there's nothing else going on. I can live with the halo for a while. I had the shingles vaccine last year (I've already had a mild case of shingles about 12 years ago). I had a few side affects that made me question if I should have done that. Aches and general feeling unwell. But that passed in a few days. I'm a little young yet for the pneumonia vaccine, unless I want to pay for it. I've never had pneumonia, and actually never had the flu either. Or if I've had flu, symptoms were only that of a cold virus. Lucky me I suppose. ~Shirley

Darrel, your story lifted my spirits! 💙 You have inspired me to think about these things again, something I haven't done since August. I lunched today with a co-worker of Stephen's (to whom I already have a close relationship). For a couple of days I've felt "flat." Not grief, not exactly sadness. Just flat. Today broke that cycle. ~Shirley

Hi all, I made it through those couple of tough days. Actually I celebrated Stephen and all the wonderful memories on Oct 10 instead of being sad. I know I will eventually let those days of each month go by. Was just odd this month. I just love the sharing of pet stories and photos! If you don't mind, I'll share this one. It was one of the last photos taken. Louie (8 year old Westie) was daddy's boy. He is now very much momma's boy. Stephen grew up with two Westies. Louie is my first dog ever. ~Shirley

Tomorrow is two months since Stephen left. This afternoon has been really hard, and I'm trying not to have predetermined feelings about tomorrow. Gosh I wish there was some rhyme or reason when grief hits. I know there is none. I hate the broken heart feeling.... The only thing that seemed to help is taking off my wedding band and just wearing his. No idea why this is giving me some comfort, but I'll take it. Wishing peaceful moments for us all. ~Shirley

We love you Darrel. You are an important part of our family! ~Shirley

Kieron, this other person in your basement is probably part of your soul circle, although you don't recognize or know her. I would say Mark's soul is definitely touching you! How wonderful!

@Tom, this is exactly my philosophy as well. I've been doing a lot of reading on the subject and also practicing meditation daily. Friends of mine who lost a son some six or so years ago shared quite a bit of reading material with me. All of this helps keeps my soul centered and open. Of course there will be grief along the way. When that bubbles up, I sometimes go out in the yard and whack at a few bushes.😊 The past few days I feel a tickle on the back of my neck off and on. I know it's Stephen's energy. ~Shirley

So last night I woke during the night and swear Stephen was in bed next to me. I felt him distinctly. And I wasn't sad when I realized he isn't there. Just a deep soul peaceful feeling as I drifted back to sleep. Last night a friend stopped by to pick up Stephen's business suits, dress shirts and ties to share with two very worthy causes. I felt very content with that decision. I know Stephen did as well. I love typing or speaking Stephen's name. I do it all the time as I want to honor him and acknowledge his soul is still with me. ~Shirley

Tom, I am a spiritual person, not a religious one. I've been doing some reading on afterlife. It sounds to me you are receiving messages loud and clear from Susan. I, too, wish I could receive Stephen in conversation form, as I miss the conversation. But I am grateful and accept the signs I am receiving. It's all those little coincidences that really aren't coincidences. I don't even ask Stephen if that was him. I thank him for the sign and for reaching out to me. I had participated in an online webinar about afterlife and was selected at random for a reading. It was very special and comforting. Interesting philosophy on afterlife, what happens to the transitioned soul and how our souls are eternally connected. The journeys and the lessons. Gwen, I have no dreams of Stephen. It doesn't make me sad. I am keeping a few items of Stephen's for me for the wintertime (although they'll be big for me, I can still knock around in them). Some Tshirts, couple of sweatshirts, couple of jersey cotton pants, his favorite funky work socks (he was into stripes and bold patterns), and three sweaters. On the top of the Tshirts, there is a purple one that he wore sometimes, but it wasn't cotton. Stephen was a 100 percent cotton guy. I was moving things around, took down the purple shirt, and sure enough, he had worn it and it had not been washed. And it smells of him. I smiled, folded it, and put it on top of the pile. I know it's there if I need to feel a little extra love. ~Shirley

I had a really bad grief day yesterday. Out of the blue for no reason. Here's what happened in my life today. I have arranged, through a kind neighbor, to donate all of Stephen's business suits, dress shirts, and ties to a local organization that helps young fathers dress professionally for job interviews. In going through the closet, I saw tucked in the back another suit bag. This is Stephen's tuxedo. I was really sad and struggling with letting this item go, due to so many memories. When I went to zip up the bag, I immediately smelled Stephen's cologne. I unzipped the bag again, took the tux out, smelled all over it (knowing this item had been dry cleaned), and there was zero scent of cologne. I know he was reaching out to tell me it's okay to let this item go. I try not to ask for signs. He is always there reaching out. Then a hole opens and he comes through. And everything inside of me tingles, like static electricity. I am truly blessed.

Cookie, it's been one of those days for me. When they come, they come very hard. I hate these days when I can't focus on all the positive wonderful things I had in life with Stephen, and instead have the overwhelming alone feeling. I'm so much like you, a happy loner, content to be home and nesting. Now I have a void in the nest. I do have lunch planned Thursday with a neighbor, fully knowing if I can't go there, I won't. I have that someone kicked me in the stomach feeling right now, along with nausea. And clock watching today for some reason. It's pretty exhausting. But I know just as the sun sets today, it will rise again tomorrow. ~Shirley

All, I made it through yesterday better than I could have imagined. And without any meds. I filled the day with positive and happy thoughts of Stephen. Many conversations with him for sure. No weeping either. I considered attending a prayer service the hospital chapel had invited me to, but I decided not to attend. Stephen would not hesitate to say if it will make you unhappy, don't do it. So I didn't, and I was at great peace with that decision. A day at a time. Hugs, Shirley

Gin, just wanted to send some love your way. I've done a little bit of this here and there (and yes, it's only been a month for me). But I was absolutely sure when doing so, and if even a moment of doubt, I let it be. I tell myself these things are not Stephen. They are remembrances of him, but they are not him. Some items I will never part with. It makes me smile, that I am departing with the multitude of fishing equipment that had been collecting dust for years, but I cannot part with his father's fishing hat, nor Stephen's wader boots. I swear, it's like those items spoke to me, pleading to stay. So stay they will. ~Shirley

Monday will mark one month that Stephen's soul took flight. It's been a tough weekend. And I'm feeling very alone. Although I truly know I'm not. It's one of those mornings where I just want to run and hide somewhere. I did get out for a half-mile walk. I need to do more of that. My neighbor and one or two other ladies walk every morning, so perhaps it's time I join them. Just for some company and conversation. I miss both of those things. Wishing everyone moments of peace today. ~Shirley

While picking up a prescription at CVS, I had to pass the Halloween display. Immediately that sent me to tears. It was a favorite of ours. For those of you who have traveled this path, what helped you get through the first holidays without your loved one? I intend to travel to be with family for the big ones, but even this small holiday is raising jitters. I know, live in the moment, but sometimes the mind wanders aimlessly. Thank you. ~Shirley

Marty, thank you for posting this. I am participating as I type this. I had an unexpected reading. Stephen came through. It was eerily remarkable. Just remarkable.

Last night was the first night I managed to have eight full hours of sleep and woke up when daylight was here. Typically I'm awake at 4 am. I had a dream last night. Not a dream where I am somewhere else, but a dream in the present. I woke up to pee, then couldn't get back to sleep from thinking of Stephen's passing. As I drifted off, I'm not sure if in a dream or not, I felt gentle hands on my shoulders, then drifted to sleep, or drifted to sleep in my dream. I'm not sure what happened, but I feel that Stephen visited me. And I woke up for the first time not immediately in a grief state. Just thought I'd share. ~Shirley

George, Stephen and I were second marriages. Neither of us had children. I always said I must have had them in a prior life, as I never had that motherly feeling. I have no regrets. Your dad is from a different generation. My father had 17 in his family, my mother 11. Both were from poor farming families. All siblings from both families are gone, except for one of my dad's brothers, who is 94 and close to end stages of his life. Embrace your visits with your father. Listen to the same stories, over and over. My uncle fought in the Battle of the Bulge. As I grew older, I loved listening to the stories. It's part of my family history. Your family name will never die. It will forever remain in the stars. Hugs, Shirley

Gwen, I applaud you for the small gestures you did on behalf of Steve. It speaks volumes to the kindness in his heart, and you honored him by paying it forward. I'm finding some of my Stephen's things fit me, and it gives me comfort. All those v-neck white t-shirts he wore under his regular shirts, and his shorts, those are keepers for me. His favorite winter sweaters and some t-shirts that are full of holes.... he would never part with his favorite things. At some point, I want to donate all of his business suits and many button down long sleeved shirts to an organization that gives men an opportunity to have clothing for job interviews, etc., those working towards a second start. It would please Stephen. His favorite camel coat and jacket, those are keepers for now. He must have had 40 ties. I will keep his favorite. And all those suspenders he wore in the 80's which was his style. I will keep the red ones, as the first day I met him, he wore those. My Stephen's shaving cream is the "scent" of him that I remember most. So I'll keep the multiple cans of that. The scent brings back great memories for me. A small bottle of vodka I am keeping. When he had a bad belly from eating something that didn't agree with him, one shot of vodka with lemon did the trick. I'm not a fan of vodka, so that bottle will be with me a very long time. I've learned not to touch anything until I'm ready to do so. And I'm more than comfortable with that decision. I'm transcribing our last very long text we had back and forth. It was from back in April, and takes us back to when things were good, then as we transitioned to his diagnosis of cancer and his treatment. So so many I love you, you are amazing, I adore you darling. I don't want to lose that dialogue should my phone go out, so transcribing it into a PDF will give me comfort. I do a little each day. Waiting for daybreak. I hate the dark as I'm still up at 4 am most mornings. ~Shirley

@Kayc, I totally agree. There are two items I did, one of them too quickly. I went to my bank. The gracious lady there reached over to me, held my hand, and said do nothing with your and Step[hen's accounts for at least six months. Nothing, leave it as is, there's no legal reason to change anything. I saw the wisdom there. When I cancelled Stephen's cell line (long story why I did this), I was told oh it's okay we'll just cancel his line. Then later I received a call stating I needed to close the account, then open one in my name with my number only. I was pretty upset about this. My financial business is very complicated. I mean very complicated. Today I was on the hamster wheel all day, and most days, since Stephen's passing. Tonight the grief hit me, and it hit me hard. I am so exhausted mentally. Physically I'm holding my own. Appetite is up, and sleeping is good. But the "mind on all day long" caught up with me. So tomorrow, other than two errands I need to run, I'm turning off all business. Period. There is nothing that needs doing that can't wait until next week. I must spend a day for me. Whether it's grieving or sitting outdoors or reading or even sleeping, I deserve a day for me. This tired to the bone grief was unlike any I experienced thus far. The worst mental fatigue I've experienced in my life. Today is over, tomorrow is a new day. ~Shirley