My Wife is Dead

[Rudderless]

This is quite long. I just have to get it if me otherwise I'd keep it bottled up and that won't end well.

My wife died.

This is the first time I truly acknowledged it. I never pretended that she left me or that I left her. I never pretended that she is just somewhere far away. But somehow, for the past 12 years, I never connected the words “died” or “dead” with her. In my mind and when I refer to her, it is “lost my wife.”

Typing those words hurt like hell. It brings a heavy finality. She is not just gone or lost but dead. She’s not coming back. And like the wedding vows we made—till death do us part—she has parted from me and I from her.

I acknowledged that the woman I love is dead. Now what? Continue living, some might say. It hurts to look at her. Not through pictures. I made sure that photos with her on them were… disposed after her funeral. I may be a monster by doing that; I acknowledge it. It’s no excuse, but sometimes, grief makes people do silly things.

Like I said in my first post, my two sons are living reminders. The eldest is now 24 and he has her eyes. Green with hints of blue. And like his mother before him, those orbs can blaze like Greek fire or—as my youngest calls them—Avada Kedavra eyes (apparently that’s a Harry Potter thing).

The last time I saw those eyes blaze with fury was years and years ago, when he was in high school. I think he was telling me to actually buy something and not ask my aide. As anybody can guess, that did not go down well. He was punished. The next time I saw those eyes, the fire was gone. They were dead, glassy, and resigned.

My son works with me now and he is very polite. Painfully polite. He addresses me as “sir” at work. I told him he can call me Dad, since everyone knows who he is anyway. But all I got was “The training from HR said it’s not proper to be familiar with the boss, sir.” Might as well be talking to a soldier. When he visits on weekends, I notice that he calls me “Dad” when his younger brother is around. But he slips back to the military-like “sir” otherwise.

My youngest is 12; he looks like his mother. Looking at him brings so much pain. I can manage a meal with him, but I look at his forehead when we have to talk. And even that is minimal. I do not know anything about him. I remember the baby that my wife and I used to chase around the house (he hated getting dressed and preferred to be in his diapers only). I know nothing of the boy he’s grown into.

I am flying blind. I do not know what to do from here. I do not know how to talk to my boys and tell them I acknowledge their mother’s death now. Denial is over.

I’d ask my wife, if I could. She’d know what to say (after perhaps an earful). But she’s not here.

My wife is dead.

[kayc]

Have a frank talk with your son, long overdue, tell him you are sorry, ask him what you can do to bury the hatchet...then do it.

I am sorry for your loss.  It's been nearly 19 years Father's Day I lost my husband, George.  It was the 19th that year, and I've lived alone since except when my son was between Air Force and college, and my daughter was here a short time after George died.

You think you did something silly, I did something worse when in grief fog...I married.  Idiotic, I know, he never lived with me, just used my credit, to the tune of $57,000.00.  I'm still paying on it all these years later.  I know what I was thinking, I didn't want to do to my kids what my mom had done to us kids...I didn't want to make my life about my adult children, squelching them.  I felt I needed to rebuilt my life.  Fine job of it, huh?  His name is Con John.  I divorced him when I came to, should have been able to annul it but it was too late by then.  I haven't had any contact with him in years.  He's been on the lam so I can't collect what he owes, he's good at hiding, from anyone.  I live my life alone with my service dog, growing older (71 now) alone in the country where life is hard.

You have finally been able to acknowledge your wife is dead.  That's a start.  Is it possible to get any photos from family?  I know you haven't forgotten what she looks like...you see her in your son's eyes.  

I miss my husband every day he's gone, nothing changes that.  I can't listen to our music, I can't look at pictures of a life once lived...

We are like ghosts...

[MartyT]

On 4/14/2024 at 8:55 AM, Rudderless said:

 

I am flying blind. I do not know what to do from here. I do not know how to talk to my boys and tell them I acknowledge their mother’s death now. Denial is over.

Given how you describe your relationship with both your boys, and given how long this has been going on in your family, you would be wise to consider some professional guidance and support. There is way too much to unpack here, to think that you can do it all by yourself.  Meeting with a qualified grief counselor or family therapist could go a long way in helping you open the lines of communication with your sons and come to terms with the death of your wife ~ and their mother. See, for example,

Seeing A Specialist in Grief Counseling: Why It Matters

How We Mourn: Understanding Our Differences

Supporting Children and Adolescents in Grief

In Grief: Coping with Denial and Disbelief

[V. R.]

On 4/14/2024 at 2:55 PM, Rudderless said:

This is quite long. I just have to get it if me otherwise I'd keep it bottled up and that won't end well.

My wife died.

This is the first time I truly acknowledged it. I never pretended that she left me or that I left her. I never pretended that she is just somewhere far away. But somehow, for the past 12 years, I never connected the words “died” or “dead” with her. In my mind and when I refer to her, it is “lost my wife.”

Typing those words hurt like hell. It brings a heavy finality. She is not just gone or lost but dead. She’s not coming back. And like the wedding vows we made—till death do us part—she has parted from me and I from her.

I acknowledged that the woman I love is dead. Now what? Continue living, some might say. It hurts to look at her. Not through pictures. I made sure that photos with her on them were… disposed after her funeral. I may be a monster by doing that; I acknowledge it. It’s no excuse, but sometimes, grief makes people do silly things.

Like I said in my first post, my two sons are living reminders. The eldest is now 24 and he has her eyes. Green with hints of blue. And like his mother before him, those orbs can blaze like Greek fire or—as my youngest calls them—Avada Kedavra eyes (apparently that’s a Harry Potter thing).

The last time I saw those eyes blaze with fury was years and years ago, when he was in high school. I think he was telling me to actually buy something and not ask my aide. As anybody can guess, that did not go down well. He was punished. The next time I saw those eyes, the fire was gone. They were dead, glassy, and resigned.

My son works with me now and he is very polite. Painfully polite. He addresses me as “sir” at work. I told him he can call me Dad, since everyone knows who he is anyway. But all I got was “The training from HR said it’s not proper to be familiar with the boss, sir.” Might as well be talking to a soldier. When he visits on weekends, I notice that he calls me “Dad” when his younger brother is around. But he slips back to the military-like “sir” otherwise.

My youngest is 12; he looks like his mother. Looking at him brings so much pain. I can manage a meal with him, but I look at his forehead when we have to talk. And even that is minimal. I do not know anything about him. I remember the baby that my wife and I used to chase around the house (he hated getting dressed and preferred to be in his diapers only). I know nothing of the boy he’s grown into.

I am flying blind. I do not know what to do from here. I do not know how to talk to my boys and tell them I acknowledge their mother’s death now. Denial is over.

I’d ask my wife, if I could. She’d know what to say (after perhaps an earful). But she’s not here.

My wife is dead.

 

Hello @Rudderless, I haven't been on the site much lately , it's just so hard to put grief feelings into words at times, I think to myself: "What am I gonna say?", but when I checked in and saw your post, I was particularly touched. You echo my words so much, I thought I was going crazy with my "stuck in denial" situation after three and a half years. I'm not ready to pronounce that "d" word you mention that you can finally say out loud. I don't think I ever will be ready.  You've passed a giant hurdle and I'm glad for you, wishing you all the strength you need for you and your young family. I also see every part of my husband in my two adult children, both physically and through their behavior and way of reasoning. I find that my husband is speaking through me in certain occasions, he's helping me out a lot in solving problems. We always say: "this is what dad would do/think/say". I love that, it keeps me going, but for me, their dad is just "not here" whereas on the other hand he is present in our lives in every way, even if not physically. His influence on our way of life, our decision-making, his legacy of knowledge, these precious gifts we have from him are giving us our fuel to carry on, "taking" him with us for the rest of our lives.

I also have difficulty talking to my son and daughter, it's just still so painful, there is no perfect time perhaps to talk , it will all just happen gradually and spontaneously, without planning anything. There are "no rules in grief", like my friends here on this site have perfectly explained to me. 

Wishing you better, more peaceful days.