Steven

Hi Mary,

Forgive me if I've missed something critical from a previous posting--I do not read or post often any longer.

Have you considered trying out "Mary and the Voice" online? Maybe a short blog that touches on some of the things that you covered in your publication? Something that would wean you off rather than quitting cold turkey?

Anyhoo, just an idea to consider...or not . ~ Steve

Yikes! I completely forgot to leave the URL of the site I mentioned below with the applications. Here's the link.

Good and helpful post, widower.

There's an application (available for win/mac/iphone and in browser) that might be of use to you. On the right side of the page, there's a section that reads "WHY WOULD I USE A MOOD CHART?"

While we're all quite sure of why we are feeling sad, grief, depressed, this app might help some. Their description:

I do hope this helps someone. ~ S

Hi Anne,

That's a very cute pic. Thanks for sharing.

I've attached your photo resized--I hope it works for you. ~ Steve

Carol Ann,

Your courage goes well beyond what anyone could expect from anyone, especially one with your incredibly difficult past. Your wife Melissa would be so proud to see the masterpiece you are working on assembling from the disorder your life was left in through no fault of your own.

Your message of hope, compassion, and heart have been a real help to me, and your diligence in pursuing your abusive therapist despite all that has happened places you in a very rare space. That you refused to be pushed aside in your quest to keep her from being a danger to others is fantastic.

If I could stand with you in court, Carol Ann, I would. I hope you know that I will be there for you in heart.

YCF ~ Steve

"The bravest are surely those who have the clearest vision of what is before them, glory and danger alike, and yet notwithstanding, go out to meet it." ~ Thucydides

I see big pluses here:

• You could easily, at 8 PM, have put off action to get out of the house for another time. You didn't.

• You went to a place that you likely visited with Sally--probably not so easy.

• You did not drive under the influence & put anyone else at risk.

Of course, going to a bar does not require drinking--if it does, bars just might be places to avoid. One of my best friends was an alcoholic, and I just refused to drink with him when we learned of his alcoholism. If it's possible that drinking to dull your feelings could get out of hand for you, it looks like you've thought of a solution for that as well--a Karaoke party at your home. Sounds great--we play RockBand and I agree that it's waaaay more fun than I would have thought before trying it.

Congrats on taking action, having a learning experience (in my opinion), and not abandoning something that makes you happy.

Not a failure.

Wow. It's rare to read poetry with such intensity. Just beautiful.

Thank you for posting that.

It was: Sonnet XCIV, by Pablo Neruda

What's the good word, Carol Ann? I hope it was a positive experience today! ~ Steve

Congratulation on being such a progressive, positive part of Arizona! ~ Steve

We all know why, of course...it was terrible because your Mom died recently and you miss her--that's completely natural, Cat_Lady. Transitioning from the Mom who lived a phone call away to the one who resides in your heart takes some time, but it will happen.

Because you've decided not to talk about this with your daughter, and your husband doesn't have the words or temperament, have you considered a support group or therapy?

In retrospect, I should have gone to a counselor far sooner than I did, so it's something I recommend to anyone dealing with grief. If you're open to the idea, I hope it's something that is an option for you, Cat_Lady. ~ Steve

Hello hello123,

Every relationship has its pros and cons. You mention that she was a good friend, but clearly is not empathetic with your great loss. ..."don't you think I know how you feel," indicates that either she does not know how you feel, is simply not equipped emotionally to help you with your grief, or could have a completely different scale of pain and loss than you do. There are a small percentage of people who just cannot empathize. Your friend might have shown many instances of great, caring response, and this one glaring example of unskilled response is out of character for her. Only you know why you consider her a good friend. We have only this one example that obviously isn't a positive one. If you both are very young, it's possible that she is just inexperienced in dealing with emotional issues, hasn't had good examples to follow and doesn't know how to deal.

Not everybody is a great communicator. Everyone isn't good at expressing sympathy. Comparing pain is a zero sum game, but it does seem your friend is in the clueless column on this one. If you're not comfortable educating her, or if you can't discuss this with your friend, then it seems your choices are limited and clear.

So, in answer to your question… This is obviously distressing to you, so it seems from here that you can either discuss it with her, or even write a careful, caring note if you think it a better approach--one which will avoid a confrontation, or one you're more comfortable with, or let this be something you don't discuss with your friend.

I'm so sorry that you're having to deal with this. I hope you're able to work this out with your friend.

~ Steve

Tony,

What a nice gesture, and beautiful, generous way to memorialize your grandmother. You've done a great job with the site and I'm sure many will appreciate all the love and effort you've put into it.

Carol Ann,

Your feelings do not seem overly sensitive at all; I'm certain we all understand why you feel as you do. My thoughts and positive energy to you during this particularly difficult time of year for you. You're a miracle in your own right.

~ Steve

Hi Melina,

I wanted to add my support for you staying. Sometimes I'm not sure I should post about still hitting a low sometimes even 5 years post my wife's death--I don't want anyone to think that six months after the death of a loved one, that it could still be going on just as bad four years later! It does hurt still, but it does change. Of course loss is still no fun, but it is now bearable and I do have fun these days.

Hang in, type out how you're feeling and dealing here, and it may help. It surely won't hurt, and you'll likely get some feedback that will help or let you know that others understand and empathize.

Hope and optimism are nice components of these forums, but they are only part of the reasons for coming here. Having people that know, people that care, and people that will listen, are other good components, and I think good reasons for you to continue to share your voice here. I hope to see your name here when you dry up--and in the days leading to that day. ~ Steve

You're very welcome--I'm glad you like the song too.

Hi Perkins, I have just a couple minutes until I have to run out, but wanted to voice my support for you and offer an opinion on how your friends and family are handling things with you.

First, I am glad that you are able to enjoy the company of someone who is able to make you smile. You already know that your husband would want this for you, so, as you've stated, the problem doesn't lie with inner turmoil, but instead with the turmoil others are creating. For what it's worth, I think not matter how things eventually go, you will never regret taking the high road in this situation. No doubt, everyone who was friends with you and Jeff, and especially family members, are still dealing with Jeff's death. As you mentioned, people react in wildly different ways in grief, and while some of the people in your life are not yet open to the idea of you having someone new in your life, and are not handling it as we wish people would, I don't believe it equates to them not being your friend, family member, or wanting happiness for you.

While it is true that effectively, their actions are impeding your happiness, I believe it highly unlikely that is their end goal. Not everyone is good at grief, and I speak as someone in that group--my recovery at losing my wife will be measured in geologic time. I know beyond a doubt that my Tanya would want nothing more than my happiness and for me to find someone to share my life with--that's the intellectual take. My internal wiring makes me feel like I'm cheating, being disloyal, etc., even though I know intellectually this is not true. I don't hold anyone else to this standard, so I don't know why my brain is holding me hostage.

You know the friends and family that are causing you distress, so only you can determine whether or not their actions are directed at you because they're unconcerned about your happiness, or whether they are having trouble processing Jeff's death as it relates to you as a couple. It could also be cultural dogma that insists you wait a certain amount of time before removing your black veil. These sorts of things are part of our history, and consequently are part of our internal wiring--some more than others.

If you are gentler with your friends and family than they're being with you, it could pay lifelong dividends.

I hope this helps a little--gotta run! ~ Steve

You know, I really make an effort to not be angry, but it really made me mad to think that after you had such a good experience today; finally getting back to swim, that your manager had the unbelievably bad taste to do what he did. Completely inexcusable. Strong people don't do what he did--strength is gentle unless forced to be otherwise. Given the opportunity to be kind and gentle with you, he chose the opposite. I have to think it must be awful to have the kind of makeup that makes that kind of behavior possible. Someone who can do that can't possibly connect with others in the way you and Melissa connected with each other, so they can't possibly understand what you had. He will never experience the degree of loss you have because he doesn't have the capacity to love or be loved as you and Melissa do. I'm so sorry that you had to come home to that idiot's call after having reached such an important realization. But…you said it yourself--your dreams are still alive.

I know for a fact that you won't let a buffoon stop your progress, but it stinks that he had to make an appearance and make an unbelievably insensitive and stupid remark to you. I don't think hanging up was a mistake. If you were thinking anything close to what I thought when I read what he said, hanging up was far better than speaking.

Words fall short, but I hope you know that you have a group of people here who stand behind you, wish you wonderful things, are glad of your progress, and understanding of your losses. It is so difficult to have to give up your bike riding--it is very tough, and very sad, but fortunately this is not the end of your story, just the end of a chapter. For your entire life, you have refused to let others decide your fate--I don't see that changing. ~ Steve

As I rushed through last week, then hiked along on the National Trail Trek yesterday (15 tranquil miles), the same beautiful song has been playing through my mind. It is a repeating theme for me throughout my life that a song will be on my mind, and there it will stay until I go through my collection, or find it online and play it. I have this CD, but think people here will identify with this beautiful song. It is one of my favorites, because it so perfectly captures my feelings about Tanya.

I hope you love it as I do.

This song is present tense, but the sentiment is timeless. ~ Steve

Performance captured live: http://tinyurl.com/ld8luy

Recorded version with captioned lyrics: http://tinyurl.com/6ebljub

© BENNY BIRD MUSIC; MUSIC CORPORATION OF AMERICA

Now, back to studying...

Di,

Everyone's mileage varies on this, and I'm adding some of my experience so you'll see that you're not at all alone in the way you feel. My progress has been glacial, and I've found that I have to do a very small amount at a time. It took years for me to remove my wife's toothbrush, so you can see you've moved at light speed compared to me. I actually walked to a closet in another room to get my clothes for four years rather than start to relocate Tanya's clothes from our bedroom closet--and some of them are still in the closet. First, I moved some of them to another room. Then, I laid some of them on the bed in that room--months later. I then moved them to hangers on a rack--again, months later. They are now hanging on a line in the garage. By the time I've actually moved them out of the house, they'll be antiques. :blink:By contrast, I know people (again, who very much loved their partner), who have been able to do these things quickly.

Hearing about other couple's plans is just part of the deal now. Some of my family went to Australia a couple of years ago, and I just had no interest in going at all. Tanya and I had planned on going to New Zealand and Australia when she had recovered from her cancer, so I completely understand your feelings. That really brought me back, and I'm really sorry that you're going through it now. It's brutal, but will get easier over time.

The married/widowed thing threw me too--I still felt married. I do know people who have been dating within a year of their partner dying, and I'm quite sure they loved them--dealing with loss is very different and very personal. It could be that for you, this particular job of cleaning up just doesn't need to be done on your usual 'get it done now' schedule. This is something different, and maybe if you cut yourself some slack for a while you'll know better how to approach? If your Getting Things Done now agenda is causing you to add stress to an already enormous stress, do you think it worth trying a decelerated level of progress to see whether it suits this big adjustment better? Have you considered staying busy doing something just for yourself? I took some classes some time after Tanya died, and honestly wasn't thrilled at the time to do it. In retrospect, I do think it helped, so if you're at all open to the idea, please give it some thought.

While the quilter's choice of the word 'destroy' is unfortunate, the idea of the quilt seems really good. Is your sister local? If you're worried about cutting material from the clothing by yourself, is it something you could do with her or a friend? We all understand the desire to crawl into a hole after your loss--we've been there. Please know--you will feel better in time, Di, but you must first give yourself time.

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey. ~ Kenji Miyazawa

I think we've all wondered that same thing, Lainey. You've made it through a tough time just as most of us on this forum have, and you have every reason to be proud of coping with tremendous loss. Five years ago, I did not think I would be alive in 2011, but here I am.

We all deal in different ways; My father cried when his wife died, but I sincerely doubt that he has cried at all with the exception of the two weeks following her unexpected death. He loved her, but that is not his way. Me? I can still cry very, very easily, but I've stopped giving myself even more grief because some people think it's been too long in the past since my wife died, it makes them uncomfortable, or men shouldn't cry--I used to think nothing could make me cry--I was way too tough. Not.

I hope you let yourself grieve, cry, be sad without regret or giving yourself a hard time, Lainey. Grieving no fun, but it is needed, and there need not be an expiration date on feelings. ~ Steve

Carol Ann,

I think if you polled people who ride, and asked them to narrow down to a single word what riding meant to them, the word would be precisely the one you mentioned--Freedom. I capitalized the word on purpose, because I think that reflects the importance riding has to motorcycle owners. I stopped riding years ago when I was quite young because I just didn't have good sense on a bike; it was a survival instinct--I became a complete idiot while on a motorcycle to be truthful. And, I agree--there isn't anything that is the same as riding. But, Carol Ann you will find something--or things that help fill the void.

While nothing will feel just like riding your motorcycle, there is a world full of experiences open to you, and I am sure with your worldview you will find satisfaction. For instance, in the future, I wouldn't at all be surprised to see you on the Oprah Winfrey Network talking about a book you have written. To emerge from the challenges you've experienced in your life with your generous, kind disposition and wisdom offers a practical guarantee that you should share your vision. It's true that certain objects and experiences become iconic in our lives, and the loss of them while being an end, does not have to be only that. It can signal--even fuel a genesis or new beginning as well, especially for someone with your life experiences, challenges, and ultimately victories. You have an uncommon gift--please continue to share it.

I am sending you a late, spirit filled hug and a message of hope--Carol Ann: Your freedom resides along with Melissa in your heart, mind and spirit, the bike merely represented it. ~ Steve

Hi Blondie,

I'm so sorry to read of your daughter's heartbreaking diagnosis. I hope you will continue to visit us here, share your feelings, and know that you have a place where you can let anything out.

Being a caregiver, while rewarding, is very taxing both emotionally and physically. If you're a reader (or listen to audiobooks), you might be interested in Passages in Caregiving: Turning Chaos into Confidence by Gail Sheehy.

There are many resources and advocacy groups that help those of us who are thrust into the role of caregiver, and I hope that there is help for you in the book as well as here.

Please don't do it alone--at the very least visit here to let us know how you are doing. ~ Steve

Carol Ann, I mentioned to you that I think I understand how you feel as you have to let your bike go. It's been seven years since you lost your Melissa, and five years since I lost Tanya. As with you, my perspective shifts; some days I'm much better than others. As I ran my race the other day I often thought of Tanya, and the vacuum that remains in my life since she died. It hurts that these wonderful people and their direct influence are no longer felt, and that our experiences with them are largely reflective. (I do have a point here!)

We bought a little VW Cabrio for Tanya, and she just loved driving around in it. It was cute like her. Since T died, I've taken it out to keep it in good running condition, and I know it has driven my father crazy that I let the car lose value year after year without selling it. Like you, I really do have to let her little car go, and the thought of doing it is so, so difficult. Slowly, I am more and more feeling that, while letting go of these things is very hard, it helps to think about how our loved ones remain present in our lives. Example, you ask? Yes, I do have one (below).

I gave a keynote speech in which I became very emotional as I spoke about Tanya a couple days ago. I recall it as completely blanking out with a long silence, but a friend told me that it wasn't really perceived that way, and that my talk was actually very well-received. I thought he was just being kind, but I've received several emails post-race. Again, I mention this not to make it about me, but to try to share with you Carol Ann that while we do lose tangibles exactly as you said, the intangibles of true, profound love, are deeply rooted, and continue to nourish, and gift us. ~ Steve

One of the emails (name changed for her privacy) --with my response below:

Mrs. B., I think you'll find the consensus here is that your sister should stop. Of course you don't need anyone to tell you that she's only trying to help, but just doesn't know how to do that effectively in this instance.

My father isn't good at helping with this sort of thing either--his idea of help is along the lines of "you have to move on", "it's time", "you can't dwell...", etc. He really does want to help, but doesn't get that he makes things worse. I had told him several times that I understood he was trying to help, but that this wasn't his area of expertise. Finally, after he had started up again with the same old routine, I told him it would be best if he left the house if he was going to continue doing what I had told him was counterproductive.

He left, and while he still visits several times a week, he apparently rethought his stance--he has never tried that failed method again. Tough love? Yes, but you know it ain't easy raising parents.

I don't know if being emphatic is something that would work with your sister, or if someone has tried another more gentle approach they can share, but I hope that if having your sister(s) repeat that they think you should do something you're not ready to do is hurting you, that you will find a way to get them to understand this and stop doing it. ~ Steve

Melina, I think 'aftershock' is the perfect description for what we experience in grieving the loss of someone we love. Just as in a seismic occurrence, we go through those series of smaller shocks as our mind/spirit/bodies try to adjust to the initial & enormous first shock.

Time is definitely relative after death especially, and everyone deals with death in their own way. Some are able to adjust relatively quickly; some do not. It may be tough to shed the mindset that there is a specific or even never-ending period people should mourn to 'prove' their love and loyalty. And when it comes to emotions, you never know what might evoke an emotional response. Almost five years post my wife's death; I have multiple instances every day that make me think of her. The following is something important to note that came with the passage of time: I no longer feel like crying every time I experience an evocative moment. Slowly (very slowly in my case), I have begun to smile when these moments occur. As the days, weeks, months, and eventually years pass, you will be able to recall moments with happiness, but give your system time to find equilibrium--be gentle with yourself.

~ Steve

PS: If you're an acting coach, might it have been William Shatner's acting that caused your grief?

I'm glad you let us know what is going on, DM. I hope you continue to air your grief and progress here. It can be liberating. ~ Steve

A haiku inspired by Tanya.

she tended gardens

pulled weeds, planted seeds, knowing

hearts grow like flowers