KathyG

Oh, Teresa, I'm sorry you've had to go through this and my prayers are with you. Losing your dad is a rough experience anytime, but it's even harder to lose someone at this time of year. I'm in about the same situation you're in right now because my husband died three weeks ago today. Your dad must have been an amazing, courageous man. He obviously loved you and your family very much, because he settled his affairs himself and took charge of his own arrangements for leaving this earth, so you wouldn't have to do it at this sad time. Take comfort from the fact that when he passed, your dad was surrounded by you and other family and friends. That so many people cared about him speaks volumes. He probably knew you were with him at the end even though he wasn't awake, so it was good that you talked and sang to him. I did the same thing for my husband while he was on life support for four days before his death. His brain was already dead, and his spirit had already gone to Heaven, but I am certain that he heard me anyway. I'm glad you found this site because the people here are like a warm, caring family who understand how hard and painful it is to survive a loved one. I hope you'll come back and continue to post.

Thanks, ladies! I found the ornament and ordered one with my dad's name on it. I hope I'll get it in time for Christmas.

Kay, Can I ask where you found your fishing hat ornament? I'd love to have one like it because like George, my dad adored fishing. He hunted with his friends too, but went more for the poker than for bagging game.

Thanks, Marty. Your article did help. I probably will have another pet one day; I believe that when it's time, he or she will find me. This may sound strange, but in addition to lighting a candle for Jackie today, Josie and I are going to eat ham for dinner tonight. This will commemorate one of the funniest things Jackie ever did. Jackie's back was a little broad. One day, while I was fixing myself a ham sandwich she nudged me and begged for a taste. I took a slice of ham and tossed it to her, thinking she'd catch it. Instead, it landed on her back. The poor baby panicked, twisting and turning and rolling her eyes like she was trying to say, "My ham! Where's my ham? Where did it go? Help me!" If only I had had a video camera. I laughed for hours afterwards, and I still chuckle when I remember it. By the way - I did give Jackie her ham. She earned it!

A year ago today, my beautiful cocker spaniel, Jackie, died suddenly in her sleep. We had had her for 10 happy years; she came to us as a wedding gift when she was just a few weeks old. I've had many furry children and loved them all. But I had and still have an extra-strong bond with Jackie and her stepsister Josie (a lhasapoo who's still with me). Jackie especially was like an extension of me; we both had the same temperaments, funniness, similar health problems, similar tastes in food, etc. She was uncommonly pretty and intelligent, so much so that we called her "the princess." Though my husband loved her too, she was always her mommy's girl. I was unconsolable when she died. Maybe because she was a wedding present, I thought we'd have her for many more years. She meant so much to me. All these months later, I still can't talk about her without tearing up. Several times this past year, my husband asked me if it was time to get another dog, a buddy for Josie. "No, it isn't," I always answered. I'm not over losing Jackie and maybe never will be. And now that my husband has passed too, all my friends and family are telling me a new dog might help. Sorry, but I'm still not ready. I love my Josie with all my heart, and maybe someday I'll give her a new playmate. But I don't feel the time is right. A new pet won't replace Jackie, and certainly won't make me feel Bill's loss any less. Jackie, I still love you and always will. We'll be together again someday.

I didn't feel like putting up any Christmas decorations this year. But my sister is coming to spend the holidays with me. Though she says she doesn't care about decorating or celebrating (she just wants to be there to help me however she can), she knew Bill and I used to have fun decorating a big, elaborate Christmas tree together every year and she told me, "Wait till I get there and we'll put the tree up together." I didn't want to do that. Right now, I don't have the energy to spend hours hauling out all the decorations, assemble the tree, untangle the lights, string garlands, etc. etc. And as much as I love my sister, decorating a big tree would trigger good memories of past years with Bill - but along with those memories would come deeper anguish than I'm already suffering. So yesterday, I bought a little 4-foot aluminum tree, prewired with lights, took it out of the box and set it up. I didn't add any ornaments except for a silver filigree star I had bought earlier this year (thinking we'd put it atop the usual big spruce). Looking at the little tree, I thought, "Hmmf. Pretty pathetic." And then I turned on the tree lights. I don't know; there was something so pure and calming and peaceful about the white lights and silver shimmering branches. The longer I looked at the tree, the more I began to like it. It didn't cost much, isn't ornate and splashy, doesn't have any pretensions of being elegant - it just stands there and pours out as much brightness as its tiny lights can produce. And I realized I can be like that little tree: losing Bill has torn away my happiness and a large part of my life and identity. But with God's help, I can stand up straight and strong, be lifted in spirit and give back as much light as I have in me. It may not be much, but it will be the best I can do right now. Maybe next year I'll decorate the big spruce again. Maybe (almost certainly) I won't be back to "normal" by then. But I hope I'll have grown and will be casting a brighter light.

Has anyone else found that bereavement is causing them to re-adopt old bad habits? How can you stop this from happening? Stress eating has always been a problem for me. Since January, I've lost a lot of weight thanks to a good diet/exercise plan. I'm happy about this and would like to lose more pounds. Up to now, the plan had (I thought) killed my cravings for sweets and carbs. But since Bill died, my appetite is completely out of whack. I've been sick with a cold, too. Either I don't want to eat at all, or I want the wrong kinds of food (cookies, candy, pasta, etc.). I don't want to ruin the success I've had. I do force myself to eat when I'm not hungry, just for nourishment. When I do, I stick to my diet plan but don't eat all the food I'm supposed to have. But then when I feel really depressed, that's when overeat the "bad" foods. How can I get my control back? It's so hard for me to do even simple things now.

Teny, If all you do is work and you're exhausting yourself, this isn't good for you. Maybe you're working so much because work gives you a temporary break from thinking about your loss, but work can't replace the love you lost with Yiany. Work is necessary, but it depletes you; love nourishes you. Be good to yourself. Find activities that soothe your spirit and/or make you feel better about yourself. Though it's hard to be happy when you've lost the light of your life, I think it's possible to at least find some peace. And for your kids and grandkids: now's the time when you need their love most and they need you. You and they and Yiani are connected forever. Give them your love and they'll return the love to you.

Wendy and Gail, Thanks for making me feel welcome. I'm so sorry for your losses and sad to hear that you're also finding this time of year hard. When you're grieving, you feel (at least I do) lucky to make it from hour to hour and get through a "normal" day. Christmas season makes it that much more difficult because in addition to all the regular things we have to do daily AND being slowed down by grief, there are the extra expectations placed on us, like shopping for gifts, decorating, etc. I also think it's worse for us on weekends because that's when we spent the most time with our husbands. The weekends really drive home the fact that HE'S GONE. I tried really hard to fight my lack of energy today and actually managed to clear out a good bit of the clutter in my living/dining room. I'm not talking about a few things out of place; the room looked like a bomb went off. Now that I've taken a chunk out of the mess, I feel proud I held off teh blues long enough to accomplish something. Gail has the right idea; between now and Christmas, let's try to check in with each other here every day.

Art, You're angry because you're in pain; totally understandable. But people would not be trying to help you if they didn't care and want to ease your misery. Allow them to enjoy and appreciate the happiness in their lives while they have it, because happiness can end in an instant. Don't envy their happiness, because you will know happiness again someday yourself. This will be my first Christmas without my husband; he passed the day before Thanksgiving. It's going to be tough to get through the holiday and it's already tough. I'm going to use the following strategies to cope - maybe some of them might work for you too. 1. This year, trying to observe all the usual traditions you've always followed for the holidays might be too much. Keep the traditions that really matter to you, but let the others go. You can always pick them up again next year if you feel like it. 2. Try some new activities you've never done before, or take a different approach to other activities. Look for things directed to others. For example, my husband and I always used to buy a few gifts for the angel tree programs at the malls. This year, I'm also volunteering to help distribute the gifts. Another example: if you always went to the same friends' or relatives' house for holiday dinner in the past, you could turn things around and have them over for a meal as a "thank you" for dinners past. 3. Write a letter to the person you're grieving for. Write about what he or she meant to you and about all the good things and blessings you shared over past holidays; those good times can never leave you as long as you remember them. Also write about how not having the person here THIS holiday changes things for you (you need to vent, too).

Hi, everyone, I'm posting to this forum for the first time after finding it through Hospice of the Valley. Reading through the previous posts, I have the feeling that this is a warm, supportive place where people talk openly about grief and share suggestions for dealing with it. That's exactly what I need right now. Eighteen days ago, I lost my precious husband, Bill. He had been on life support for four days after suffering a massive heart attack, after which he never regained consciousness. In the middle of the night before he passed, the nurses at hospice called to tell me he was near death - but I had already seen him die once and couldn't bear to see it again. This is my third major loss in the past two years. My mother died in August 2005, and then at this time last year my little cocker spaniel (my baby) passed away in her sleep. I was still mourning both of them, but felt like things were finally getting a little easier. And then Bill had his heart attack. I can't describe this pain to anyone who hasn't experienced it, but I know you forum members have already been there. The other posts here reassure me that many of the things I've been going through - the wild mood swings, chronic fatigue, irritability, etc. - are normal grief reactions and I'm not losing my mind. But I've been through so much, and though they say God does not give you more than you can stand, I think he must believe I'm Hercules. I've been blessed with another sweet little dog and wonderful support from my friends and coworkers, but most of my family is far away. As time passes and my supporters turn back to their normal lives and Christmas plans, I don't know how well I'll make it alone. I can't even motivate myself to clean my house or put up even a few small Christmas decorations. I'm usually a take-charge kind of person, but I feel so devastated and lethargic now that I don't recognize myself. Things aren't all bad. I feel Bill's presence around me all the time and believe he is communicating with me. And I've always been able to handle setbacks in the past. But this time, I can't do it without help. Please forgive me for being so long-winded. Guess I just needed to let this all out.