Steven

Your poem really makes clear how you've persevered, Carol Ann. It made me want to check out some of my old haiku. Thanks for sharing your poetry. ~ Steve

I have to run out to a committee meeting, so this reply will be uncharacteristically and mercifully short. I don't think you're going to get confirmation here from us that you're unforgivable, DM. No doubt, what you did was wrong, you hurt people you love. In my opinion, sometimes shame is an appropriate response. But don't you think it is important that now that you've owned your action, to acknowledge that it isn't reasonable to reduce yourself to a single incident--to reduce who you are to one single episode in a lifetime? If you were able to place your life actions on a scale, would this sole occurrence carry more weight than all your other actions throughout your life? Would you treat someone other than yourself so harshly? I'd like to think not. It's difficult to avoid sounding trite, but the truth is the truth: You cannot undo the past, but the future is yours to shape--give yourself a chance--show humanity to yourself--work on forgiving you. There is still time to make your wife proud again. ~ Steve

I have an idea of what occurred, but don't know exactly what happened in the weak moment you seem to feel has ruined everything, but I feel confident that if your loved ones have forgiven you, that you will be able to forgive yourself--if you work towards that. Please bear with my long-windedness. We share a similar history in at least a few ways. My wife Tanya was 9 months pregnant with our daughter, whom we had named Chelsea. I had gone to the appointments with our midwife, we had read books on babies, children, child-rearing; had done everything to avoid doing some of the things that had made much of our childhoods miserable. One day, we were out happily doing some errands in our car, getting ready for our new baby's arrival. While waiting to make a left turn, we were hit broadside--Tanya's side of the car. The impact crushed the car, injured Tanya badly, and killed our baby. (Skipping many details here) I went from being the most happy-go-lucky, best mood person you'd ever meet, to being chronically depressed--for years. Tanya tried her best to coax me into therapy, but I was a tough guy and thought I would get through it myself. It took close to a decade to get through it, and only after I finally listened to the smart half of us and went to a therapist. Fast forward about twenty years, during my wife's first battle with breast cancer. One of my two best friends died--dropped dead on an airplane while on a business trip. His wife called me--she was stunned. Fast forward another couple years. Tanya is now fighting her second battle with breast cancer. My other best friend, Kenny, is visiting--and no, he didn't die! He's visiting because he was one of many of our friends who was just in love with Tanya, and he knew she was fighting cancer so flew in from Florida to support her. By now our little cat was doing very poorly, I took him to the vet, and had to have him put to sleep. For some, losing a pet seems a small thing, but our pets helped us immensely in recovering from the loss of our baby. Shortly after our accident, we got a little basenji puppy--something for Tanya to hold. Rikki was a neurotic little dog, but we loved her dearly, and having Rikki was very therapeutic for Tanya in the months after our accident. Tanya was getting out of the house less and less during her second round of chemotherapy, lung draining, etc., so again, I took our 17 year old Rikki to the vet--our old dog was failing quickly. I had to have her put to sleep as well, and you won't believe how hard it was--especially without Tanya with me. Shortly after this, we received a call from Kenny's sister--they found him dead in his apartment. He was in his early 40s. We had just been with him. Not long after, Tanya's body finally could not keep up with her spirit, and she died. Tanya was the best person most of us had ever known, definitely the best I had, and she was instrumental in making me want to change, improve, be more kind, and help others. It is in our nature to deify our loved ones, but she was without doubt the kindest, sweetest person I've ever known. Why the long history? To illustrate that if you get the opportunity to live long enough, bad things will happen to you, bad things will happen because of you, and eventually, if you give good the opportunity, it will overshadow the bad. In my life, I grew up with a crazy mother, an angry father, I lost my baby (we were never able to have another), my best friends, our pets (surrogate children), and my very best friend, wife, and biggest cheerleader. It has been hard, and at times I have not wanted to go on. Tanya showed me that persevering, helping others when you are hurting, trying to be a good part of others lives--if you do these things, you will eventually recover. Will you still feel the pain of loss, hurt, bad memories? Absolutely. But, just as physical wounds heal leaving scars, our emotional wounds do much the same. But, healing these wounds is far, far less likely to happen without working towards it. I encourage you to seek help--continue posting here among people who care, find a therapist, counselor, chaplain--someone to lend an ear, offer feedback, to care for and help you deal with your guilt and shame. You are, by your own words imprisoned in your own skin. I believe you will find comfort in your skin by seeking help, accepting forgiveness, and most importantly, going through the process, and finally, forgiving yourself. ~ Steve

I have no words. Tears. Heart. Healing. Thinking of you and Melissa tonight. ~ Steve

kayc, Fortunately, we're both very clear on each other's beliefs, and do not give one another a difficult time. We do tease each other, but that is something we're both comfortable with. The glass half-full/half-empty analogy is really fitting, as it works with both believers and nonbelievers. My Mom-in-law had a somewhat difficult early life and definitely sees a glass at the halfway mark as almost empty. In her case, I think a belief in an afterlife has much to do with wanting there to be something much better than she's experienced in this one. Also, she's not very proactive in life, so hoping is one way to endure for her. To be sure, I've known people who are extremely proactive believers who do all they can to make this world better--I do not hold that it has much to do with deity beliefs. Your BIL's account reminded me of listening to my MIL's account of a conversation Tanya and I overheard. Her account sounded absolutely nothing like what we both had heard, but she processes things how she preconceives or at times wants them to be, not as they are. We used to joke with her that you could play the 'telephone game' with only her--you could whisper "a yellow car with a driver" in her ear and by the time she processed it, she would report "a fleet of taxis without a driver invaded New York City at noon today, wreaking havoc on all traffic and commerce..." ;o) Dimcl, Glad you liked the proverb! I base my decisions/beliefs more on evidence than feelings as well, and am open to being wrong--in this case welcoming with arms wide open to being wrong, but I cannot believe just because I want to, and if there is divine inspiration, divinity has chosen not to visit me. I was only 19 years old when the first dinosaurs appeared, and had a similar experience. A love that I thought I'd never recover from; my one true love--until Tanya came along and made everything prior shrink, shrink, shrink. Like you, how wrong could I have been!? Again, like you I did not dream of Tanya (at least no dreams that I recalled), at all until recently--almost five years post. I can tell you something about it, Dimcl...It's worth the wait. I woke up smiling for the first time in ages. Another thing that others have described as happening that I've never experienced--waking and thinking my wife was next to me, in another room, in a crowd--nothing. I never have had a moment in which I thought for a second she was still alive. These experiences dealing with death have been described as an emotional roller coaster, but at times for me, normally extremely even-keeled emotionally, it has been more like an emotional pogo stick. Hang in there--it does improve. ~ Steve

I think it likely (as your wording indicates you might) that receiving signs from those departed reflects a difference in how believers and nonbelievers interpret their environment. As an example, my mother-in-law sees pennies, nickels, dimes on the ground and sees them as a message from Tanya (her daughter, my wife), and I see them as lost change on the ground. When her own mother died she said the same thing, and Tanya actually said words to the effect (jokingly) …"for the record, if I die, I won't come back as a penny." Tanya's mom would insist that there are far more on the ground now that she died--I believe the number varies by chance; I notice no difference in the number at all. I knew Tanya better than anyone knew her (including her Mom), and she simply would not have chosen money on the ground as a method of communication. This difference demonstrates our general belief system disparity. I'll admit to wishing at times that my brain could accept what to me are completely meaningless events, as signs from the departed. Unfortunately, my mind simply does not work that way at all. My Mother-in-law believes that prayers for those with cancer will be answered, and I believe if you have to ask a 'higher' being for this kind of help, you're not petitioning a benevolent being. It is quite clear that people without water need it, it is quite clear that people suffering from cancer need a cure, quite clear that helpless persons being attacked need help--if a higher power needs a nudge to see this, it would present a very difficult situation to me if I were a believer. I mention this not to initiate a debate (In my experience, there is no convincing a believer that they are wrong, and the same goes for nonbelievers being convinced that they are wrong. It seems to take a life-jarring event to cause a fundamental shift like this.), but instead to provide a couple of examples as to how I think belief systems affect how we interpret our world, and by connection the potential 'signs' from our loved ones. I will say that I believe it one of our choices whether or not those we loved remain present and powerful in our lives and hearts. They can inform our lives, decisions, and hearts, and we can remain unified with them in this way. So, I guess that I feel obligated--and by obligation, I mean a debt of the heart that I am compelled and and honored to fulfill, to try to do some of the good things Tanya would be doing to help those around her. This is not unlike to my feelings on prayer; I am glad that people pray and believe, but am disheartened that for so many their effort ends at prayer. As a nonbeliever, I 'preach' that WE must be the answer to prayers--that handing off what we can do ourselves is not the right thing to do, whether you believe in higher beings or not. ~ Steve As usual, I've gone on far too long, so one final quote I was reminded of: "Pray to God, but keep rowing to shore" ~ Russian Proverb

Every once in awhile, the words "death is a cave" come to my mind--I have no idea why this happens--the words seem to come out of nowhere most of the time. This time, they occurred to me just as I read your words about the sorrow you felt for the way your wife Melissa was gang-raped, and how she felt driven to escape the pain through suicide. I thought, maybe that's what death is a cave could mean. When dealing with the death of those we love... standing in the cave, one way leads us deeper into the darkness, the other leads us toward light. It's been very close to five years since my wife died, and I alternate between walking into the cave and walking into light. It seems that I spend more time approaching the entrance as time passes, but it certainly isn't the rule. There are times when I do not get out of bed until I absolutely have to. Cancer took Tanya from me, and it is unbearable knowing that someone you love is suffering terribly and there's not much--or nothing that you can do to change the situation. Death is difficult under most circumstances. Add to that the complete senselessness of Melissa's death, and the meanness, cowardice, stupidity--all of the inadequate words used to describe what was done to her, you have another layer to deal with, and it is an enormous one. It sounds as though your hard work is taking root, Carol Ann. There is no making sense of the senseless, so the only avenue available is to make peace with the cruel reality you have been delivered. We can hope that your impact statement does have the intended impact, but after you make it, the finding will be out of your hands. You will have done all you can, and there is nothing else you can do. I'm droning on and on, knowing from my own experience that there is nothing to be said that will make things right. We can take steps to make things better, however, and you are doing just that. I think of the strength and courage you have shown under this most difficult of situations, knowing the sorrow you feel, and my heart goes out to you. Knowing that things get better is the only thing that makes these conditions bearable--your sorrow will pass; you will feel better. ~ Steve

It is curious how different folks respond to loss. My father loved his wife (my stepmother) a great deal, and when she died, he cried--one of two times I'd ever seen him reveal emotions of sadness in almost half a century. Several weeks after she died, he'd already packed up and donated her clothes, shoes etc. The speed in which he did this in no way reflected how much he loved her. Fast forward to 2006, and the death of my wife; It's 2011 & I still have everything--clothes, shoes, papers…everything. I loved and totally adored her, and as time passes, the 'stuff' does mean less than it used to. I think as the days and years cycle, I begin to better understand what some are able to process early in their loss. I think that what is more important, is that loss is dealt with and that the artifacts of those we loved aren't sent away as an avoidance of dealing, and just as importantly, aren't kept indefinitely for the same reason. I believe you're right about obvious grief. People feel powerless to help, and it is very tough to see other people suffer. It's probably a chief reason that after a short while if you haven't recovered (in their view) fast enough, people become scarce. It's also the reason that they comment that "you're doing so well" just because your eyes aren't full of tears constantly, or that your grief isn't as apparent as it was previously. Grieving is an extremely personal and individual experience. I think my father's handling of his wife's death might have interrupted his grieving process--I'm not certain at all that he allowed himself time to grieve, but he dealt with it in his own way and was not open to discussing it. Grief is no fun, but it's a road we have to travel. It's good that you realize that nobody's experience is universal--that there is no reason to believe that just because someone reports to you that the second year is worse, that it is the truth universally. If one person's experience were guaranteed to be reflected by another's--I'd have to choose someone whose wife is still alive and avoid the grief thing altogether. There is small solace in knowing that most people are just trying to assist you through this rough time. True, they often stink at it, but people largely have their hearts in the right place. I predict that you will experience things as an individual--you , and that your grieving will proceed just as it does for all--differently, personally--your way. There is also the very likely possibility that in the future, you will be able to think of your husband, feel grief, smile a real smile, AND live happily, all at the same time. ~ Steve ~ Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man. ~ Benjamin Help me fight cancer? www.RockYourKarma.com

Hi Mary, For some reason, I don't think I received notification that you'd replied to my reply . It really is an odd, unsettling feeling, isn't it, this waiting for a train when there isn't even a train track?! Stranger still, that we do it when we know there's no train, no train track--nothing even scheduled to arrive. I suppose it takes time to remap our minds, the way we think, and such after a devastating loss. When the object of our love is no longer around to receive, the love remains--what to do with it though? Also, just because nothing is scheduled to arrive does not mean nothing is on the way, right? Life is complex and unpredictable. My wife Tanya arrived at just such a time in my life--things were not so good--one day she was unknown to me, the next, my life was forever transformed and brightened. I think (hope) that eventually, we find our way, but the finding is sure a trial at times. Desire is a strange thing--especially when what you want you can't have, but your mind and heart refuse to accommodate the new, unwanted reality. Dry wheat thins just don't work when you want chocolate ice cream! I hope this new year brings us all, especially you, plenty of spiritual chocolate ice cream. ~ Steve ~ Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man. ~ Benjamin Help me fight cancer? www.RockYourKarma.com

I plan (when the time feels right) to have some of my wife's ashes made into a diamond. It has been almost five years since she died, but my hope is to do it to commemorate something she would have been proud of. I thought perhaps I would have felt the time was right after I ran a half-marathon to raise funds to fight cancer, but I didn't, and still don't after running every year. I'm still doing the run to fight cancer, and she would have been proud and happy about it, but that isn't the thing that has made me feel the time was right. Anyhoo, that's the extremely long version of "no, you're not nuts for thinking of buying a piece of cremation jewelry." (Unless we're all nuts too...)

Hi Tammy, It's tough finding a balance after such an enormous loss, so if you're able to function, complete tasks, and hold things together, kudos to you. It has been almost five years now since my wife died (cancer for her too), and I am only beginning to get it together, and very, very slowly at that. Right now, for instance, I should be studying for a psychology final (I'm an ancient college student), but here I sit reading a grief forum--almost FIVE YEARS after my sweet wife died. I truly admire & congratulate you for your ability to sustain. Steve Help me fight cancer? [attachment=594:ryktransparent.png]

Hi Deborah, Time sure has taken on a different meaning for us, hasn't it? I had an odd realization of sorts today--sort of made me wonder if my head is ever going to be right about this stuff. I realized that I have the feeling of waiting--waiting for something to happen that never IS going to happen, and I have that feeling almost all of the time. There really are moments, and I wonder if you ever experience them like I do, in which I feel like I might be making progress in recovery…then, nope. Maybe tiny breakthroughs eventually lead to bigger ones. I wish for us all who are here for the unhappy events that make this forum necessary (and welcome), happier lives, better understanding, and peace this season. ~ Steve This is my simple religion. There is no need for temples; no need for complicated philosophy. Our own brain, our own heart is our temple; the philosophy is kindness. - Dalai Lama [attachment=593:ladybugtiny2.png]

Hi Joe, Only you will be able to tell what you are capable of, and when you can begin, but I encourage you to continue volunteering to fight the disease that took your wife (breast cancer took my wife too, and about 40,000 other wives, sisters, life-partners, and mothers a year). To be honest, I still find little satisfaction on many days well over two years after the death of my wife from breast cancer, but one thing I do that does bring satisfaction, is volunteer for the American Cancer Society. I hope in addition to helping with the Avon Walk, and their Crusade Against Breast Cancer you will check out a local ACS Relay For Life, or a Making Strides Against Breast Cancer event. There you will meet people who have gone through what you are going through, are enduring the same sort of treatments that our wives did, or are there walking and volunteering out of goodness. Trust me, being around the kind of people who support these kinds of events will do you good. When and if you are ready, you can be a part of the fight to end to suffering and death caused by cancer--with people who understand on a level that others simply cannot. That may seem like a commercial, but doing something to confront my wife's killer...or to at least address the seemingly endless grief in a way that will ultimately save other's from the difficult ends our loved ones had, feels as if I have something of a purpose, and it may help you on your journey as well. I do hope so. - Steve Please Help Fight Cancer http://main.acsevents.org/goto/Tanya.Sharp

It is interesting how different people read the same thing, and their responses look as though they're responding to entirely different things. I read Teny's post and wondered if you and I had read the same thing. It seemed to me that Teny was describing pain and loss rather than feelings of inadequacy, as some of your response seems to address. Clearly, you phrase your reply in terms of possible reasons for Teny's feelings, and are not accusatory, but I saw nothing of the "I'm nothing without him/her" business in her text, tho that may be the case, and might have been revealed in other posts (I rarely visit this forum). Clearly, feeling as though one is nothing without a partner or spouse is unhealthy, but being unhappy about the loss of one's partner is only natural and I feel more accurately portrays Teny's position. I think if my friends and family were asked about my sense of identity, they'd be hard-pressed to name someone with a more distinct persona. This sense of identity in no way informed anyone about how I would respond to the death of my wife or how I would feel in social situations after she died. I miss T with an intensity I cannot compare to anything else--period. In social situations, these feelings of loss are sometimes even more acute. e.g., couples often develop a shorthand through the years, and missing a partner that could look in your eyes from across the room at a party and get the joke w/o it even being told doesn't reveal a personal flaw, it reveals only that the most important person in one's life still maintains a position of great importance. There is no natural metric in this scenario that indicates inadequacy or unworthiness. For what it's worth! (i will admit to being unworthy of T, tho!) - Steve ~ A strong sense of identity gives man an idea he can do no wrong; too little accomplishes the same. ~ Djuna Barnes

Hi Kayc, You don't mention whether erratic sleep patterns are normal for you now or not. But I'm in the same boat as you--sleep is not what it used to be for me. Awake for two days--sleep for 4 hours--trying to resist falling asleep during the day, then wide awake at bedtime--sleeping for 12 hours straight after one of the no-sleep stretches. It's a year-and-a-half for me, but what has changed are not the feelings of loss and pain, but how they appear to others. ("You're doing so well!"..."ummm...thanks.") I've had the same problems with concentration as you have. After the death of our baby, I went from reading 4-6 books at a time, to zero. It took years for me to read again, but it eventually happened. My concentration level hasn't returned to let me read a rack of books a year, but I was able to read at least a couple a year eventually. Now, after Tanya's death, I have the same problem as you. I'll find myself reading for an hour and having absolutely no idea what I just read. Ditto TV or movies...what was that movie about? Heck if I know--don't even recall who was in it. If your library has audiobooks, they're worth a try. It usually takes me multiple listens to get the gist any longer, but it sure isn't as frustrating as reading and getting nothing out of it. It might be nice to hear a voice in the house too. Kay, I'm sure you know that someone like you going through the anguish you are, sure doesn't deserve it. Unfortunately, life's chaotic non-pattern reveals itself in moments, and there is no way to accurately predict the outcome of the next one, or when elusive relief might unveil itself. Know only that while your journey is being travelled alone, many are on the same road--some in front of you, some behind. We all understand the pain and difficulty because we're living it too, and we all wish you relief. ~ Steven Sorrow comes to all...Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You cannot now realize that you will ever feel better and yet you are sure to be happy again. Abraham Lincoln

Deborah, The loss is too great, and the knowledge that at least half of us will have to endure the pain of losing the most important, most loved person in our lives does not make it much, if any, easier. I'm right with you here with the way you feel. It seems that recovery for some of us comes much, much slower than it does for others, and I'm in same the glacially slow recovery camp as you. There are many references to prayer and God responding to your post, but I recall you mentioning some time ago that your faith had been challenged to the core. If your feelings about faith haven't changed since that post, prayer and God's plan may not hold much comfort for you right now. If your feelings are less about belief in God and more about anger at being abandoned by God or at God ignoring your prayers, I hope you'll consider speaking with a cleric who can rationalize, and possibly make it possible for you to reconcile your beliefs with your deity. If you do not believe/have strong doubts in God, know that there are other ways to find relief. I would be happy to share some of my experiences and strategies for relief through action with you in a Personal email if you are interested in trying something out. As for not doing enough for Larry, not holding him long enough, not comforting him enough, I believe you can trust with absolute certainty that if those of us who never knew Larry can understand with complete clarity through your writing, that you loved Larry deeply and truly, he knew it unquestioningly and would require nothing more from you than what you gave. - Steven

Hello All, I thought of another song that reminds me of how I felt sometimes while sitting with Tanya for those days and weeks in the hospital room. It isn't an exact fit for Tanya because she didn't have much fear about what was happening, nor did she often cry while in the hospital. Instead, the song really reflects my feelings and the subtle evolution in perspective that occurred while dealing with T's cancer, treatments, and death, as well as ideas of what I thought was important prior to these things versus what I learned through our ordeal. - Steve (Hynde 1994) Oh, why you look so sad? Tears are in your eyes, Come on and come to me now. Don't be ashamed to cry, Let me see you through, Cause I've seen the dark side too. And when the night falls on you, And you don't know what to do, Nothing you confess could make me love you less I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you, Won't let nobody hurt you, I'll stand by you. So, if you're mad get mad, Don't hold it all inside, Come on and talk to me now. Hey, what you got to hide? I get angry too Well I'm alive like you, When you're standing at the crossroads, don't know which path to choose, Let me come along, cause even if you're wrong I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you, Won't let nobody hurt you, I'll stand by you. Take me in into your darkest hour, and I'll never desert you. I'll stand by you. And when, when the night falls on you baby, You're feeling all alone, You won't be on your own, I'll stand by you. I'll stand by you I'll stand by you, Won't let nobody hurt you, I'll stand by you Take me in into your darkest hour, And I'll never desert you I'll stand by you. Hynde, C. (1994). I'll Stand By You/Last of the Independents, Sire / London/Rhino.

Hi Starkiss, My question wasn't directed at anyone, so please don't spend a moment worrying about it. FYI, I've changed my settings to have postings emailed to me, so I can use email filters. I sure don't want anyone to change or censor their posts based on my beliefs or lack of, so I am setting up a couple of simple filters to route ideas that aren't helpful to my personal attempts at recovering from my wife's death. At the risk of saying too much, I'm truly glad that so many find comfort with these ideas, but they often affect me in the opposite way. So, rather than withdrawing from this helpful, caring group, I am adjusting settings to allow myself access without encountering topics that are a bit sensitive for me. I thank Marty too, as well as the many well-intentioned people frequenting this forum. Thanks! Steven

Looking over the settings, it doesn't look as if it is possible to sort or filter results using words. Is this correct? e.g., if I wanted to avoid topics/comments using the word 'supernatural' or 'magical thinking' how would I accomplish this? Thanks! BTW, I'm not referring to search criteria; instead, I mean all posts to all threads.

Annie, When Tanya and I spoke about a situation in which one of us would need the other to make decisions such as the one you describe, she said "I know you will do what is best for me, and I will do what is best for you." I trusted her implicitly, and know she trusted me in the same way. Because we talked incessantly about just about everything, we knew what one another thought and felt about end-of-life decisions, suffering, etc., but we did make legal declarations as well, something I suggest for everyone. Unfortunately, I have experience in making these kinds of decisions, and as difficult as the determination to end T's suffering was, knowing she would have to continue suffering if I didn't look after her was far, far worse. This is a very personal decision; I have a friend whose wife stated to him with absolute clarity that she did not want to continue fighting. He attempted to override her decision with the doctors. (the docs followed her directive) I can tell you that he has mentioned this more than once with shame. He feels selfish about his attempt. You will have to make the tough choice, but it seems that cultures and religions throughout time have recorded various versions of the golden rule for good reason. It might help to ask yourself the same question you asked if you don't make the decision to reduce his suffering. "...can we live with that?" Steven Do not do to others what you would not want done to you.~ Confucius

Kay, This is rough, isn't it? I don't know if reading about other's experiences will help you this morning, but here goes anyhow. Anymore, I rarely think about how long it has been since Tanya died. At one point, I thought (based on what I'd read) that I'd start to feel better in one year. It didn't happen--at all. Since then, I've tried to take a different approach, because passage of time really hasn't seemed to make any lasting difference in relation to my state of mind. Some days are bearable, and some don't seem to be, but somehow, I get out the other side. I find that what changes most for me is how I mask my emotion publicly, rather than how I really feel inside. As for lethargy and depression, I really think you're preaching to the choir this Sunday, Kay. My sleep patterns are too disparate for me to graph without using a computer. Truthfully, I don't think I have a pattern. Sometimes, 3-5 hours is fantastic, other times, and very rarely (like this weekend), I sleep so many hours I lose count. I think I slept close to 20 hours yesterday. It seems like a great way to pass the time painlessly, but I feel like I'm wasting hours Tanya would have loved to live. I'm still working on my project/fundraiser in memory of T, but every day is still a battle of sorts. You certainly aren't a failure at putting your life back together--way too early to call at this point! We should all be moving toward a life that is rewarding once again, but I've been doing my utmost to not fall into the timetable trap. Navigating through the day after losing the one who meant all to us is a victory of sorts, and tying yourself to anyone else's idea of recovery time doesn't seem realistic to me. You seem like a person who is happy helping others. Have you given thought to volunteering on weekends when John doesn't visit? I'm sure having someone like you around to help would absolutely change a person's day. Steve What we have done for ourselves alone dies with us; what we have done for others and the world remains and is immortal. ~Albert Pike .

Karen, That's exactly how I felt about my relationship with Tanya before we lucked out and 'ruined' our friendship with love; why mess up a perfectly good friendship? (The best I'd ever had, truth be known). Of course, I did not have a previous love that in any way compared to how I felt and continue to feel about her, so the comparison may be a little tortured. Steve

Once again, sorry for the lengthy response! There is so much to consider with such a decision. Through the years, after the death of a spouse/partner, I've heard people comment "it's too soon," or similar, but to me this is very much a personal determination (sometimes poorly determined). When my father's wife (my stepmother) died, he moved quickly, giving her clothes and other articles to charities, selling their house and moving all the way across the country in record time. He started going to dances very shortly after her death. It was too soon--if it had been me in his position, but that's the important detail; it wasn't my life or my decision to make. I know that he loved her, and his way to get through the pain was full steam ahead. Whether that was a wise decision in the end, well, that's not for me to decide either. I may have half my life ahead of me while he is in his mid-seventies. My perspective on time is no doubt different from his, and that surely affects his decision-making and sense of time. I don't think there is any disloyalty involved in seeking companionship after the death of loved ones. However, I think the rational mind may have to contend with the emotional mind when moving into any sort of close relationship in these cases. Karen, years ago, my relationship with Tanya was platonic, and I thought that was how I wanted it to remain. But that seems to be the way of love; you can pretend you have control, that you will only be friends, and the next thing you know, your platonic, best friend ever, is the passion of your life and your spouse. For what it is worth, I say take it as it comes. Decide when and if the occasion arises whether or not you want the relationship to be more than platonic. If platonic is how you want it from the outset, there's nothing wrong with making that clear. As I noted, deciding beforehand may just be self-delusion. I haven't given a moment's consideration to dating anyone, but I think that would be a big disappointment to Tanya (though it wouldn't surprise her at all). I believe that almost all of us visiting this site are painfully aware the dangers of predicting how life and relationships will play out. If you have the opportunity to be happier, why not give it a shot? - Steve

Kayc, My heart sunk when reading your post. I've experienced the same feelings of disbelief and displacement, as well as wondering what happened to all those people who proclaimed their love for Tanya. "Life goes on" surely means something different to me now. I believe these folks really mean what they've said, but life does just keep steaming along. I know it is of small consolation, but your description of your husband is one of someone we all would have wanted to know. Those who didn't know him cannot remember, but we think about the kind of man he was, and how he meant the world to you. My thoughts are with both of you. Long distance hug, Steve