KathyG

Kay, thanks so much for this thread. Today's the one year anniversary of Bill's death, and even though writing about what I loved most in him reminds me of how much I've lost, it also makes me grateful that for awhile, I had this very special guy in my life. 1. HBill adored me and believed in me completely, and held back nothing. Every day he’d tell me how much he loved me and what I meant to him, praise my accomplishments and encourage me not to give up if I was struggling with anything. 2. He had the sweetest smile, and flashed it often. He was almost always happy; he looked for and tried to bring out the best in me and those around him. I never heard him gossip or say anything bad about anyone he knew (even when they didn’t treat him well). 3. He didn’t care about money and power, or worry about what other people thought of him. He believed that being kind and considerate and doing good for others were the most important things in life, and he lived those beliefs. 4. He loved animals intensely, treated them gently, and cared for our pets as if they were our kids. 5. He made fun and adventure out of even routine tasks like cleaning house or going grocery shopping by adding goofy songs and comments as a “soundtrack.” He also loved to tease, and his eyes twinkled with mischief when he was putting someone (usually, me) on. (I will love you forever, my Bee.)

Kay, I cried for you when I read about Lucky. Pets may not live as long as people, but they bring so much love and joy to us during their short lives that losing them cuts deep. When Bill and I married 12 years ago, he already had a dog named Winnie and as a wedding gift, we received a beautiful cocker puppy we called Jackie. We had to put Winnie down in 2004 and then two years later, Jackie died in her sleep while I was at work. I was angry with Bill because he took her to the vet for cremation before I got home that night, denying me a chance to see her one last time. But he told me he had done it because he wanted to spare me seeing her dead. I really believe that Bill fought so hard to stay alive after his heart attack not only because he didn't want to leave, but when he knew he couldn't survive he wanted to give me several days to say goodbye. It's comforting to think of Bill walking with Winnie and Jackie by his side, looking down on me and the two other little dogs, Josie and Polo, who are my family now. Hugs and prayers for you, Kathy

Bill used to tell me five to 10 times a day that he loved me and I'd hug him and answer, "That's good, because I love you." Sometimes he would say, "You must think I'm a broken record," but I always replied, "I will never get tired of hearing you love me, no matter how many times you tell me." And I never did. I know he still loves me, but I wish I could hear those words today. When Bill was here, no matter how bad or hard things got, his optimism and encouragement always made me feel like we'd come through OK. Now I just have to gut it out and do the best I can without my protector and cheerleader. Tomorrow, it will be one year since I kissed him goodbye for the last time. I felt like my heart was breaking then and I feel even more broken now.

Deborah, What a nice way to commemorate Larry's birthday! As long as you remember him, he'll never be completely gone from this world. Today is also the day when my husband had his fatal heart attack (though he lived on for four more days). I'm having a tough time, but I decided I'll think about at least one happy memory for each year he and I knew each other. Then later tonight, I'll open a bottle of wine I've been saving and toast him and our life together.

Tara, I'm so sorry this loss has happened to you. It's great that you have supportive family and friends to help you, and now that you've found this site, you'll find additional support and comfort too. My husband died unexpectedly too; a year ago yesterday, he had the heart attack he died from four days later. About moving back with your parents: your words indicate you'd rather stay independent, so do what feels right. But maybe consider staying with them overnight or spending most of the day with them if the aloneness becomes too much to handle. My mother died before my husband, but when my first marriage broke up she insisted that I come over for dinner every day after work. At first I went just to please her, but then I began looking forward to it because I knew I'd have someone to talk to and share my day with instead of going home to an empty house. I know you must feel overwhelmed by all the paperwork and arrangements that follow when your spouse dies, because I was. Some of these things are more urgent than others, but take as long as you need to get them done and tackle only what you feel up to at any given time. It might take weeks, months, or a year or more before you can finish every task, but that's OK; they will get done. Don't be afraid to ask yourself, from time to time, "Do I feel I can deal with this right now?" If the answer's "No," don't hesitate to step back, then return to whatever it is later. Your inner voice knows when you are or aren't ready. Like Kath suggests, make a list of everything you have to take care of, then go back through the list and break it down into items that are "must do immediately," "important, but not urgent," and "can do anytime." The list helps in several ways: it helps you remember what needs to be done (so nothing falls through the cracks), helps you identify tasks you can delegate to a friend or relative who wants to pitch in, and gives you a sense of accomplishment as you start to check off completed tasks. Above all, take care of yourself physically, emotionally and spiritually. Get as much rest as possible and even if you're not hungry, be sure to eat regularly. Exercise helps too; even if you don't do workouts, just going for a walk has benefits. And as much as you can, limit or avoid contact with people who upset or depress you; you don't need extra stress now. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

I've posted before about times when my husband has sent me signs or messages. For example, he helped me find the spare remote control for my car alarm system when without it, I would have had to spend several hundred dollars to have the old system stripped out so I could regain control of the car's ignition system. Bill also has helped me locate his wallet and important documents I needed to collect his life insurance benefits. There was also the time he left me the little Lucite stone with the message "Miracles happen to those who believe." I feel his presence all the time, and even though I've seen several articles about bees dying off and becoming scarce, almost every day I see them around the front of my house. That's significant because "Bee" or "Mr. Bee" was my nickname for Bill. Also, my dad was great at handyman stuff so whenever I'm having trouble trying to fix something by myself, I call on him for help. And either suddenly, I'll know how to get the job done or I'll hear from someone who can do it for me. Kay, if you need George's help or just want some reassurance that he's still around you, just tell him and you should receive his response. You may not get an answer or a sign right away, and it may not come in the form you expect, so be open to receiving contact in any way at any time. You'll know when it's him.

Within the past few days, I received the best news I've had in a very long time: my husband's family still loves me and wants me to be part of their lives. Since July, I've been hurt, angry and upset because my sister-in-law and her family dropped all contact with me; they never called, texted, wrote, etc. I couldn't understand why because I had done nothing to make them turn away. But I thought maybe they didn't want me around because it was too painful to see me without Bill. I was afraid to call them because my own relatives had shut me out and I didn't want to be hurt further. Then a few nights ago, I had a very vivid dream about being at my sister-in-law's house and everyone telling me, "No we aren't mad at you. We never were!" The dream left such an impression that I wrote and mailed a letter to them, telling them what I've been up to all these months, how I've missed them and letting them know I hoped our relationship would continue, but if they didn't want it to, I would accept that and move on. The next day, two birthday cards from Bill's family arrived. I decided maybe it was OK to contact them, so I called. And I found out that they do still consider me part of their family; they missed me too and were hoping to hear from me, but thought I was staying away because I needed time alone. We were all crying; lots of emotion. I found out that they've had their own problems these past few months. My sister-in-law had orthopedic surgery that went wrong, had to have a second operation, and developed a serious infection in the main artery of one of her legs. She was incapacitated and in pain for weeks. They also found out that sister-in-law's granddaaughter has a learning disability and she had to undergo multiple medical tests and have remedial tutoring to avoid flunking. And Bill's nephews nearly lost their jobs; one did lose his but was able to find a new one. Though we've been through a lot individually and collectively since Bill's ddeath, it's so good to renew our relationship. We've already started making holiday plans. Now that I know we were separated only by misunderstanding each other, I wish I had contacted them sooner. I guess the old saying is true: "When you assume, it makes an ass out of U and me."

Rosemary, you're smart in planning to do what feels right to you for the holidays. It can be comforting to try to keep up some of the old traditions you shared before your loss, but setting those traditions aside and just celebrating in whatever way you feel you can can be even better. And the old traditions don't have to be put aside forever. You can bring them back in the future if you want to and as you feel able to. Later on, bringing back some of the old ways might rekindle some happy memories for you. If not, you can start brand new traditions. Last year, my husband died the day before Thanksgiving. Then and last Christmas, I was mostly too numb to have any holiday spirit. I had dinner with my sister-in-law and her family both days, and my sister came in from out of town to spend some time with me, and it was good to have them around; better than spending those days alone, crying. My husband and I always decorated a big Christmas tree and the rest of the house, and we'd drive around the neighborhoods to see people's holiday lighting displays and sing carols and I'd cook and bake dozens of special foods. Last year, I didn't feel up to any of that, but wanted to do something mostly for my sister's benefit. So I put up a little three-foot tree, baked my sister's favorite cookies for her and cooked my special lasagna for her because she loves it. It felt strange not doing all the usual holiday activities but at the time, it was a lot less stressful than it would have been trying to go on with "normal" celebrations as though nothing had happened. This year I'll spend Thanksgiving with friends, and my sister is coming to visit again. I don't know yet if things will be easier, or I'll feel like doing any decorating or making any special foods, but I've decided to play it by ear. Somewhere in all that, I plan to find a way to honor my husband's memory.

Very interesting thread. Thanks, Marsha, for starting it. I think it can't be coincidence that all of us are coping with our spouses' loss than they would have done if we had died. Maybe it really is true that God is merciful and makes sure that the strongest half of a couple survives. Because of Bill's dementia, if I had died he would have been helpless and incapable of living day to day without someone to take care of him. But even if he had had a healthy mind, he still would have had it rougher than I have. He was a gentle, sweet, sensitive man who was happy and optimistic 98% of the time, but I doubt he would have been able to withstand the pressure of having to assume all the decisions and responsibilities. The grief attacks alone would have destroyed him. When I think of how tough this situation would have been on Bill, and how much more helplessness and frustration he would have felt as he continued to see his mental faculties slip away, then I realize it's a blessing he went first. I know he's waiting for me and I look forward to the day I can go to him. But I've accepted that there's more for me to do on earth before that happens. And it feels good to realize how much inner strength I didn't know I had -- though I wish I hadn't had to find out. I wish none of us had to find out! But here we are, still standing.

Thank you, my friends, for your hugs and understanding and reassurances. I need those things so much. I think I was looking not so much for advice, but for confirmation that I'm not the only one who struggles with flashbacks. It helps to know I'm not alone, though I wish I could spare you all the sorrow the flashbacks bring. You guys and this place are a Godsend. If anyone or anything has helped me stay sane, you have! What if feels like to survive your soulmate's death truly is something that only people who have experienced it can understand. We are our own community, united by grief and also care and concern for each other. What a coincidence that so many of us have names that are variations on "Katherine" --Kay, Kath, and Teny. I'm the third-generation Katherine in my family; my grandmother called herself Kate, my aunt calls herself Kay and I'm Kathy. If I had had a daughter, I probably would have named her Katherine too. Kath, though it was hard to stop Bill's life support and recalling the day I had to do it causes so much pain, I don't feel guilty about it. Many times before Bill died, he had told me that if he were ever incapacitated and would never regain consciousness, he didn't want to be kept alive artificially. During those days he was comatose, his words came back to me but I felt stunned and helpless -- and above all, I did not want to lose him. Then on the third day when I walked into his hospital room, immediately I felt agitated and upset and I sensed those feelings were coming from him, not me. I felt his spirit telling me, "You know I never wanted this. You promised you'd let me go. Please!" I didn't want to listen, but the voice I heard was so strong and insistent. So I prayed for guidance and my prayers led me to the answer; I needed to let him go to God. It was the hardest thing I've ever done. But as soon as the doctors and nurses shut down the machines and removed the tubes from him, I felt nothing but calm. Although Bill continued to breathe for a few more hours, I knew he was at peace.

In earlier posts, many of you have written about flashing back to the day or circumstances of your spouse's or partner's death and how much pain those flashbacks cause. I know it's normal to have these flashbacks, especially when the death occurred suddenly. But I hope no one will mind if I bring up the subject of flashbacks again. My husband had his heart attack last year on November 17. The next four days were the worst of my life, as I watched and waited and prayed he'd come out of his coma and then (though everything in me was screaming, "No!") had to give the order to turn off his life support and let him go. Right after Bill died, I mentally replayed those days over and over again. I haven't had any such flashbacks for months. But now this past week, with the anniversary coming up, the flashbacks are back in full force and I feel like I'm reliving those days again, even more in anguish than I was then because now I'm also grieving for all the other losses that have happened since. Till now, I was slowly recovering and even feeling a little hope about the future. It feels like all those gains I've made have been wiped out and I'm in even worse shape than when this all started. I also keep remembering how Bill and I looked forward to having a happy retirement together on the savings we so carefully put away for so many years. Now I can't even bring myself to open the latest statementa on my retirement accounts because in my current mood, I'm afraid to see the damage. I'm afraid that even dreams of a quiet solo retirement have died now. What can I do to turn off the flashbacks and calm my worries about the future? I can't stop thinking about them and I'm not sleeping at night; if this keeps up, by November 17 I'll be a complete wreck. Does anyone know what may help?

Kath, Several things may be at work here, all of them common reactions to loss. Maybe you're having trouble completing tasks not because you get bored with them, but because you're having trouble staying focused on them. People in grief often report difficulty concentrating and thinking straight, and you'll hear that complaint many times from people on this site. Problems with concentration have been one of my biggest chaallenges since my husband died last year. You also may be impulsively throwing yourself into projects in an effort to stay busy (and try to take your mind off your loss), or to find some purpose or project that can become an anchor for you. Example: because my husband was ill for a long time before he died, we put off a bunch of badly-needed home repairs and renovations. I've made it my mission to get those jobs done and finishing off the repairs Bill started has kept me going, even when I haven't felt like doing anything except crying. The repairs aren't so urgent that the house is crumbling around me, but it has become important to me to get them done, one at a time. You also may be trying to take on tasks that would be easy to do under normal circumstances, but may feel or be too "big" for you to tackle when you're grieving, feeling depressed and weak. If this is the case, it might help to break the big tasks down into smaller steps and give yourself credit for completing each step. When you're in mourning, no task is so small that it doesn't deserve a self-pat on the back. It may sound weird, but some days even getting out of bed and getting dressed can be big achievements! And believe it or not, giving yourself recognition for small accomplishments helps to rebuild your self-confidence. After awhile, you start to think, "I did this, this and this. Maybe I'm not such a hopeless case after all."

PattyAnn, I choked up when I read about how your Walter thought he had won the lottery when he found you, because my Bill used to tell me almost the same thing. He'd say, "I'm so blessed to have you. Finding you turned my whole life around." And he did the same for me. Like you and Jan, I've heard people tell me I'm a good person, yet hardly anyone calls or visits. I've done so much soul searching, trying to figure out if I've been deliberately pushing people away or if I did anything to upset them. I don't think either thing is true; I would welcome more contact. I've been told people avoid being around mourners because it makes them feel uncomfortable and they don't like being reminded that, yes, someday they'll have to face their own death or the death of someone close to them. For awhile I believed that, but as time goes on and I still find myself being excluded, my loneliness grows and I'm no longer willing to accept that as a valid excuse. I wonder: friends and acquaintances disappear when a woman becomes a widow. But what happens when a widow enters a new relationship or remarries? Do her newer friends, the people who have only known her as a widow, drift away because she's now part of a couple? Does a change in someone's marital or relationship status (whether they go from single to married or vice versa) always make friends and acquaintances disappear? People's desire to spend time with someone should NOT depend on that person's being single, married, or widowed. Wouldn't it make more sense to base it on whether the person is kind, considerate and loyal; whether you and he or she have things in common; and whether you genuinely enjoy his or her company?

Like everyone else, I've been dropped by my husband's family. I took it hard because they were the only family I had here in Arizona; all my relatives are back east. Bill's family and I always got along well. He and I used to get together with them not often, but regularly. For the first few months after he died his sister and niece and I were in close touch, and they seemed glad when I told them I didn't plan to move back to Pennsylvania. But since July, I haven't heard from any of them. And like Wendy, I was the last one to initiate contact so I feel that if they want our relationship to continue, they should call me. However, I've discussed this with friends and they suggested that maybe I should give Bill's family one more chance; write them a letter that reminds them I'm still here and I miss them, but make it clear that the next move is theirs and if they want to end the relationship, fine, I'll live with it. On one hand, I feel like a letter to them would either give me closure or reopen communication between us. But another part of me thinks that their actions (lack of them, really) have already made their intentions clear and writing would be a waste of time. What do you all think? Would it be worthwhile to send the letter?

Kath, Welcome to the site. Please accept my sympathy for your loss, and know that here, you always have friends who will listen and support you. I agree with Kay that you should be honest about your time out of the workplace and you can present it in a positive light. Some of the things you might emphasize: -- You WERE productive during the past 16 months, even though you weren't sitting behind a desk. You gave your children the extra support they needed, you've used the time to regroup and now you're ready to refocus on work. -- You can point out that dealing with the overwhelming flood of arrangements, legal details, paperwork, etc. that follow the death of a spouse is no small accomplishment. It requires strong project management skills that would be valuable on the job, such as organizing, prioritizing, and a take-charge approach. The fact that you've carried out these tasks successfully while adjusting to a major life change demonstrates strong ability to perform under pressure - something employers always value. I don't know what types of interviews you may be called for, but these days many interviewers don't just ask what you did at previous jobs; they also want you to describe how you've handled challenges in the past. For example, the interviewer might say, "Tell me about how you handle crises," or "What do you typically do when confronted by an unfamiliar situation that you need to handle immediately?" You may be able to use some of the things you've experienced since losing your husband as examples of your strengths and ability to adapt. Best of luck with your job search!

Mary Linda, As rough as it gets when you're overwhelmed by losses and problems, remember that this time is temporary -- it will pass and eventually, things will settle down again. Crises always find resolution somehow; it's just a question of hanging in there until it happens. Whenever I'm being battered by one crisis or loss after another, I remember an old "Peanuts" cartoon. In it, Charlie Brown has had all the trouble he can stand and he screams, "That's it! I give up!" Then he thinks for a moment, puzzled, and asks, "Where do you go to give up?" That one line -- "Where do you go to give up?" -- has gotten me through many bad times. It helps us realize that giving up isn't an option, that trouble won't go away no matter how much we wish for it to, and that we need to look within ourselves for ways to cope and carry on. The line also reminds us that though there is no place labeled "Line for giving up forms here," we have someone to go to: we can take our fears and sorrow to the Lord, put ourselves into His hands and have faith that He will give us strength to play out the hand we've been dealt. I hope your series of losses will end soon. Blessings to you.

Kim, you are one strong, tough, determined lady who's an inspiration to all! I can only marvel at what you've accomplished while bearing so many burdens, but I'm sure Dan and God have been at your side all this time. Many, many congratulations! Kathy

Joe, I'm sorry you're having to deal with so many anniversaries close together. I know how much that hurts. Unexpectedly finding something your spouse wrote in most cases is a pleasant surprise. But for people who are present when their spouse dies, anything that reminds us of that horrible day will dredge up the pain and make it feel fresh again. I love my dog, but my husband was crazy about her and sometimes when I look at her, I see Bill playing with her and I remember how when he was in the hospital dying, a volunteer brought his puppy into the room. Bill was in a coma, and seeing him not respond to the puppy just destroyed me. I read a quote recently that said something like "Pain is only temporary, but unless we feel it, we don't realize fully how much we loved someone who's gone or how much we need to do to fix something that has gone wrong in our lives."

Today is the happiest day I've had in months because a new little furry guy came into my life. I adopted a little lhasapoo (lhasa apso/poodle) who was rescued from a local backyard puppy mill. The rescue group members told me they found Polo and his brothers, sisters and kids crowded into a filthy kennel, their coats completely matted and covered with ticks. You'd think Polo would have a mean streak or be shy because of the way he was treated, but he's cute, sweet-natured and friendly. He's getting along great with Josie, the lhasapoo I raised from puppyhood. (Well, there's a little jealousy on both sides but they seem to like each other so I doubt it will last.) This is all still new. But I think it's a very good sign that I'm finally able to let someone new into my life and make his life better at the same time. Even just a few weeks ago, it felt impossible to take any pleasure in life or feel anything beyond my own pain and sorrow. But by taking over responsibility for another life, I realize I still have something to offer, I'm deciding to re-embrace life, and I'm starting to envision a new direction for myself. My husband adored Josie. He would have loved Polo too and in my heart, I can hear him saying he approves that now I have a new "son."

Fred and Wendy, You are two of the most empathetic and eloquent people on this site, and you've helped so many of us, including me -- it's awesome that the site has brought you together. It was meant to be! I wish you every happiness together. You renew my faith and remind all of us that not all of life's surprises are bad ones. Kathy

Karen, I'm so glad things are working out for your son and he'll be away from those vulture druggies. As Wendy says, please let us all know when you're back home and safe. I pray things will come together for my sister as they did for Danny. She was supposed to have started back to work last Monday, seemed to be in good spirits and was excited about seeing her work friends again. I'd been trying to call her all this week to see if work went well, but she wasn't picking up her messages. This morning, I found out why: she went off her meds again and has ended up back in the psych ward with her bipolar disease, diabetes and blood pressure all out of control and making her sick. She has run out of chances at her job, and they don't want her back. It's highly doubtful she'll ever be able to work again. Because I live so far away, up till now my relatives back in Pennsylvania have been helping Alice every time she got in trouble. But they're elderly and they've reached the point where they can't do it anymore; their own health problems need attention. I told them how grateful I am for all the help they've given up to this point, but I can't ask them to do any more. So now I have sole responsibility for Alice. I hope I can handle it, because I know in my heart how much easier it would be if I had my Bill here to support me and help me talk and think through my fears for my sister and make the right decisions for her future.

Carrieboo, I've experienced some problems with in-laws, so I know how much anguish they cause. My husband's relatives haven't questioned my legal right to inherit everything he left behind. But without any prompting I gave them some of Bill's belongings that I felt they should have or I knew I wouldn't use: the family Bible recording all the family history, Bill's coin collection, an almost-new electronic keyboard, some things that belonged to his mother, etc. Shortly after that, they broke off contact with me and we haven't spoken since. Why some people think things and money are more important than relationships is beyond me. It sounds like some "helpful" friend of your fiance's parents may have stepped in and encouraged them to get what they can from his estate. While they may have a legal claim, morally they're wrong for doing this, especially since they're reneging on their promise that the estate would go to you. And I'm sure this is not how your fiance would have wanted his parents to treat you. Hire a good attorney who's an expert in family law, and stand your ground. Don't allow your fiance's parents' betrayal to trouble you much; if they were people worth staying connected to, they wouldn't be fighting you when they should be grieving with you. Best of luck.

Leeann, I agree, we are shadows of our former selves because loss has torn us in half and left a gaping void in who and what we are. We won't be whole again until we learn how to replace that void. And as you said, redefining ourselves and merging what's left of our old selves with the new selves we're trying to grow is exhausting work -- added work on top of having to deal with everyday issues as life flows on. I also agree that no widow or widower is "weak." How can we be, given the challenges we all face? Sure, we feel overwhelmed and depressed sometimes. But being a widow or widower makes you resourceful; somehow, we find a way to pull ourselves back up and move forward again.

Pauline, I'm so sorry for the loss of your mother. You sound as if you're still very much in the numb, on-autopilot stage that's typical of the first few weeks after a loved one has died. It's common during this time for things to feel dreamlike and very unreal, but those feelings fade gradually once the shock subsides. You ask if your life will ever again be as it was; it won't be and can't be the same without your mother's presence. You'll find a way to go on, but once someone is gone you can never recapture the past. The best you can do is to cultivate your memories of them and keep them alive. You'll need strength for the long road ahead. So the most important thing you can do right now is to put yourself and your needs first. Eat healthily and get as much rest as you can. If possible, postpone doing anything that's difficult or painful for you until you feel more grounded -- or, if the thing can't wait, ask someone you trust to help you with it or even do it for you. If you don't feel like being around other people at this time, that's OK. But if you have people offering to help or do things for you, don't turn them away completely; thank them and tell them you may call them later when you feel more up to it. You need to do this because in a few weeks, the activity stops and all the would-be companions and helpers fade away and go back to the regular lives, leaving you alone to pick up the pieces. True friends won't abandon you, but many people will stay away because they're uncomfortable interacting with the bereaved. This isn't because they're bad people; they just don't know how to deal with the aftermath of death. It's probably too soon right now, but in a few weeks it will help you to find a grief counselor or support group. You've already found this site, and the people will welcome you, listen to you and offer their stories about how they have dealt with loss. Good luck and God bless. You and your mother will be in my prayers. Kathy

Gail, congratulations!