A Year Ends

[mfh]

2011 is the first full year of the last 37 years of my life that Bill has not been in my life. Nothing I have done this year was shared with him. And as it winds down tomorrow, it feels like starting another year just puts me further and further from our life together. Usually New Year's meant nothing to us. But since Bill died, it seems to have taken on some meaning that is not pleasant.

Today I put our old VHS recordings onto DVDs. I watched as we sat, in one tape, with my closest-ever girlfriend and soul sister, Betty, who died on Dec. 29 in 1989. I sat with her two days a week for 11 months so Art could get away....those days brought us closer than ever. Her husband, Art, died in 1994 and of course Bill died last year. In the first video Bill and I had moved to a home on 67 glorious Wisconsin acres and Betty/Art came to spend the Christmas weekend with us. Our first Golden, Buffy, was in the video. Everyone in that video has died except me. I then copied videos of a walk Bill and I took through our woods, creeks and meadows; of our house and a mountain hike in Ouray, CO; trips we took and my Mom's 90th birthday, a video in which most friends and relatives in it had died including Bill, my mom, dad, girlfriends, cousins, and more. Bill was in and out of those videos...but there were short shots of him alone talking briefly to the camera (he was not nuts about video cameras on him); of the two of us cuddled up together while my dear Betty held the camera, and of our Buffy who died in 2,000. Of course I sat and wept. I started this project Monday but with my brother here and his unresponsiveness, I opted to do this alone after he left and have to return his equipment asap, the reason I chose this week? It was certainly a bittersweet experience to watch Bill and I curled up together in front of the fire chatting and laughing, so young and so fully alive and in love, together and enjoying our new country home on our second Christmas.

This is one lonely journey... how grateful I am for all we had....how sad I have been all week.

Mary

[Lainey]

This is one lonely journey... how grateful I am for all we had....how sad I have been all week

Dear Mary,

Your words are so beautiful,yet so sad. So much truth..

This is my second full year of doing everything without Lars and have found it very difficult most of the year.

Lainey

[mfh]

Yes, Lainey. I understand. It will be 2 years on March 27 for me and this second year has been tough. ...in some ways tougher than the first one. Onward we go....grateful for you and others here.

Mary

[kayc]

Mary, I've hear that said by others too, that the second year is worse than the first...I don't think I felt that way, the first year was such a shock, but I guess if one expected things to be better the second year it'd be quite a letdown. I don't know that I could watch all of those tapes/DVDs, that'd be tough. I still wake up wishing George could hold me. I guess it'll remain unrequited the rest of my life.

[mfh]

I agree, kay, I think every day when I awaken, I will look over to see if Bill is there....he never is...never will be....oh the pain....forever.

mary

[Susie Q]

Mary

Just last week it came to me too that most of the photos I have up in the house are of people that have died. The others are of people close to me, but that belong to someone else.

Just that one thought has made me feel so down all week that I can't get myself out of it. I don't want to go forward without him, I can't have him back and I don't want my life to be only about the past. I'm so stuck in pain and I don't see how anyone can help.

I'm hoping that its a NYE reaction because I see the rest of the world looking forward to the year ahead and making plans, just like we would have been doing.

All I feel is guilt that I have time and that it seems to be a burden to me - not the way we lived our lives and not the way I want to spend what's left. I keep on the go - I have returned to activities that used to be pleasurable, I volunteer some of my time, I socialise...but it's all just busy work.

I can check heaps off Marty's progress list but when will it feel like progress?

[mfh]

Susie, I think we all have weeks that are worse than others. None are good or great but some really take us to the bottom of the pit where it seems we will never rise. I think we do rise. I have been down there often and each time I come back up and I suspect you will also. I understand all your feelings and pain for I have felt just like that...and in fact this week I have visited the bottom again. I do think that New Year's Eve has triggered some of that....starting another year without Bill feels like I have miles and miles of desert in front of me....arid, empty, and yes, it all feels like busy work. I too have gotten back into things that used to have meaning. http://ptbertram.wordpress.com/ I have to force myself most days to sit at that table and paint and then sometimes I just sit...I do believe more people than either of us know walk in pain...many are not looking forward to a new year believe me....lots of pain out there...lots of loss and lots of lonely people...now we are one of them. perhaps not the pain you and I walk in but their own.

Everyone has a story...at some point in their lives...everyone has pain....and I know what we are going through is really really tough stuff. we are not alone...many feel the same way you feel....Somehow it helps me to know others are in pain and grieving. I was reading Pat Bertram's blog today (her husband died the same day Bill did and we have connected). Here is her link....read some of her grief columns and the comments people make. You will know you are not alone. She is an author who writes about grief in her blog and many are following her who are in grief....there are so many of us in this club and we all feel similar feelings. The best we can do is take care of ourselves, be patient and gentle, let others support us and try to do something that fills our time and has meaning. You are volunteering and that is good even if it feels like busy work. I wish I had a magic answer....I wish you had one for me but I guess the best we can do is hang in together and ride this out....forever perhaps. It is 1:30am and I have been dozing and crying most of the evening. I do not want to see this year end and that feeling is so powerful...it feels like another loss. Right now I can say to myself that Bill died last year...Sunday I can't say that any longer...and it seems like it just puts more distance between us and i know it is all silly but real. You and I are in this together along with a lot of others. Let's keep holding each other up. One tide lifts all boats in the harbor. I want to believe there is a tide....right now I do not know. Neither do you. I have never felt this much pain in my entire life and for so long. I know you haven't either.

Peace, Mary

[kayc]

Forget having the next year to look forward to,how about just tonight? It's depressing to me that it's another holiday spent alone. And my next year? I don't even want to think about it, losing my home, no jobs, I don't want to be my age without health insurance...I don't even want to think about the upcoming year. I want George back, I feel I've done enough time...even most inmates get a parole, when's mine? I'm sorry, this isn't very positive sounding, but it's how I feel right now. I got through Christmas because my kids were here, but how do I get through the rest of the holidays, alone? Always alone...

[mfh]

New Year's Eve 2011

It has been an extremely and unexpectedly tough and endless holiday season with lots of pieces, big and small, fueling the pain I live each day. My tears have flowed often and as 2012 approaches within hours,they have increased. This morning I was driving through fog on fairly slippery, slightly icy, country roads en route to interview a young couple for my magazine. The fog enveloped my car protecting me from a painful world. I knew I had to pull myself together for this interview and true to form, did. Their house sat just off an isolated country road. In the distance were two barns, one open sided and housing three kilns and tons of cut wood.

They were young and cute, full of energy and enthusiasm and a certain depth I do not often see. Grateful for the exposure my magazine would give them as they build their pottery business outside of small town America, they also exuded creativity and excitement about their life and art form, their use of local clay, their two rescued standard poodles who spent the time sniffing traces of my Bentley. In three years, they had moved a house onto the property, renovated it, put in a well; built three kilns, a brick and clay furnace in their barn workroom; and started a successful business. It so reminded me of Bill's and my energy and enthusiasm as we spent our early years renovating a home, working on and enjoying our land, and building a clinic. Her mom is a Hospice Social Worker, her dad a small town physician. His are both psychologists. Their caring upbringing was obvious. After two hours of talking, drinking hot tea out of mugs they had created from the earth around their home, looking at kilns and lovely finished pots and plates, I drove away. Tears instantly rolled down my face. So raw these days, it takes little to trip off tears. I remembered so well when Bill and I were young and enthusiastic about life, our land, renovating one home and building another, hiking our woods, traveling full time for two years in our luxurious RV, building our practices and so much more. Because we had each other nothing looked impossible. Life was full of our dreams, the joys we shared and even a rare disagreement all couples experience. And now it was over....a lifetime of waiting for each other, of having each other, had come to an end and never again would I see him, hold him, look into his incredibly blue and kind eyes. The thought is still shocking, catching my breath. For 37 years he was the most important person in my life and I in his. An amputation has occurred...taking part of my heart and lungs and maybe a leg and an arm leaving deep and empty canyons within me. This young couple, would someday face a loss.One of them will weep alone someday as I do and watch their joy come to an end. The circle of life goes on. I felt sad for them knowing what was ahead yet happy for what they were now enjoying.

Love is so painful when death robs one of the other. We hoped we would die as we had lived -- together...we even joked about going out to our woods when we were old and gray and could barely walk and sitting at the foot of our favorite tree until death carried us over its threshold...together. But life had other plans....and now I wait again to be with him...each day one day closer, one day less and each day mostly unbearably painful and long - filled with thoughts of him. Grateful for what life gave us, sad for what death took away....I trek alone now...waiting again.

Dec. 31, 2011 mfh

[kayc]

Gosh Mary, you're sounding a lot like I am today in "my turn's over". It's weird to see another young couple starting their lives when yours seems over...at least over in the sense that it was. It's more than heartbreaking to know that all lives come to an end like this eventually. Why couldn't we have died together, indeed? I suppose that would be too hard for our children, although they're grown and off somewhere living their lives separate and apart from ours. The fact is, they can live their lives happily, knowing we're still here if they should want to reach out but if we died, it would impact them in ways we can't begin to fathom. so for that reason I guess we must live on. Still, my greatest reason for continuing is this amazing dog of mine...this dog that has chewed up everything and is difficult to handle in his cumbersome size and powerful strength...this dog is so loving and so funny, he's stolen my heart.

[mfh]

Hi Kay

After I posted I thought of the similarity...the pain, the young ones....right now my Bentley is trying his best to get food out of a Kong....he bangs it against the doors and ultimately succeeds in emptying it. I put his meals in it to give him something to do.

I know over time I will find meaning but I also know over time I will grief just below the thin thin membrane that envelopes my pain....and you also.

Just over 21 months....an eternity.

Mary

[HAP]

Why is today so different? I feel very much of what you feel. Is it the year-end thing? Does that explain it? My emotions are all over the map.

The no longer able to say "last year" strikes a new chord for me all at once. I had not thought of that until now. And I see what you are saying with it.

Peace,

Harry

[mfh]

Harry, this New Year's thing has taken me by surprise also. The week has been tumultuous....and I think the "not being able to say last year" is a part of it. It just makes it feel like a longer and longer time since Bill was here. It means starting a second full year without him...more distance. It means starting a year, something most people cherish and I dread to a large degree....and then another year and then another year. New Year's day has never meant a lot and last year I don't remember it grabbing me as it has this year but I am a mess...emotions, like you, all over the map. It just feels like I am losing more of him, losing him again....fear of forgetting all our memories, distance...loss on loss....I do not know.

Mary

[mfh]

OK, I did a little scouting around the internet and found the following about why we are struggling so on this evening....it basically says what we have been saying:

1. http://www.connect.l...-eve?&sn=smh-au The entire holiday season, beginning with Thanksgiving and extending throughJanuary 1, is a stressful time for most adults. Supposedly perfect familiessurround us, and we often have unrealistic expectations of happy experiencesahead. For recent widows, the holidays—and especially New Year's Eve—are particularly difficult, seeming to underline all that they have lost.

2. http://www.griefwatc...a-new-year-mean In simplistic terms when life wasuncomplicated by grief it meant starting over…a clean slate…making resolutionsto clean up our act. Some of us like the feeling of getting a fresh startand forgetting the past. We like believing that, during this next year, thingswill be better. But when we are grieving, our tendency is to stand at the threshold of a new year looking back rather than forward. We fear that to walk through that door into a new year means leaving our lostloved one behind. To move on seems like an act of betrayal of or abandonment ofthe one we love. There may also be a fear of forgetting, or maybe a fear of letting go. We experience a contradiction: we want to feel better, but at what cost?

Remember, January 1st is just anotherday. It has nomeaning or power except the meaning we choose to give to it. Acknowledging ourspecial needs as grieving persons, we can choose to make softer resolutions forthe new year—resolutions that can still be challenging, yet are notunrealistic. Why not frame your New Year's resolutions in terms of hope for agentler year; for gaining control of your emotions, for better understanding ofthe grief process and what we can learn about ourselves as we journey thru it? Why not resolve to enter into a future that can be good, even though it lacksall that we might desire, and offers a hope that we will be at peace withsorrow and enjoy life even though we grieve.

3. From Marty's site: http://www.griefheal...r-new-year.html

Resolutionsfor the Bereaved

In the same spirit, I offer the followingsuggestions for those who are coping with the loss of a loved one:

• Educate yourself about what happens in grief and learn what reactions are normal.
  Find a book on grief (check the library, local or online bookstore, Companion Press,Compassion Books, or Centering Corporation); consider journals, workbooks, poetry. Look for workshops on grief, loss and bereavement that are open to the public and sponsored by your local hospice, the Compassionate Friends, AARP, mortuaries, churches and other community organizations.
  Subscribe to a healing magazine or journal such as Grief Digest or Living with Loss.
  Find and visit helpful Web sites for the bereaved, such as GriefHealing.com.
• Join an online grief support group, such as Hospice of the Valley's Grief Healing Discussion Groups.
• Attend an in-person support group, and go at least three times before you decide if the group you've chosen is right for you.
• Let yourself mourn, in whatever ways you need to. Recognize that there is no right or wrong way to do the work of grief.
• Take it one day (one hour, one moment) at a time.
• Take good care of yourself. Get checked out by your doctor and your dentist. Eat healthy, balanced meals. Rest as much as you can. Get some exercise. Drink lots of water.
• Pamper yourself. Listen to uplifting music, read a good book, soak in a hot tub, write in a journal, get a new haircut, have a massage, call a friend, take a walk.
• Plan ahead for difficult days (holidays, anniversary dates, birthdays) to alleviate some of the worry and stress.
• Do whatever you can to actively remember and maintain a connection with your loved one.Plan a ritual of remembrance (light a candle online, ask family and friends to share memories, plant a tree or a garden) or construct a memory book; make a quilt or Teddy bear using your loved one's clothing. Find ways to mention your beloved's name in family rituals, conversations with family and friends, religious services, memorials and donations to charity.
  
  
  • What meaning is there to be found in this loss?
  • What lessons have you learned, or what can be learned from this experience?
  • What self-discoveries are you making?
  • What personal qualities have been strengthened as a result of this experience?
  • What strengths can you identify that were not apparent before?
  • What is becoming of the person you used to be? Who are you now?
  • What was important to you before this loss, compared to what is important now?
  • How has this experience impacted your values and spiritual beliefs?
  • Do you see the world any differently now?

[ksbeachbum]

I too am feeling blue and down after thinking I had got through Christmas OK. The reflection back on this year with our battle with his cancer, the sickness he endured, his death and my life without my spouse is not something I relish but I have done today. It has been a sad and tearful day... and Mary I think you are exactly right. I don't want to forget but yet I can't seem to propel forward, just stuck here feeling blue and so wishing I had my Randy back. I loved my old life and I am growing tired of trying to go forward only to remember the past that I still long for. I feel like I am stuck in the twilight zone. So hoping that 2012 brings a new outlook.

Becky

[mfh]

The anticipation of beginning another year has ended. I fell asleep in the chair and when I awoke, sleep had carried me over the threshold to 2012. It feels no different than an hour ago-which was now last year-the sadness I have carried in my heart and on my shoulders for many many months and years (as this trek began years ago when Bill began to spiral towards death) is identical. It means nothing that it is now 2012 except in some weird way it is now more than an hour longer ago since Bill died....since I held his hand in my hand....the hour that just passed was a year long.

May this year ahead bring each of us moments of peace and acceptance; a sense of hope for something...anything meaningful; a smile now and then; and the knowledge that our loved one is, in some way our minds can not comprehend, right next to us and deep in our hearts guiding us and lighting our paths. May each of us take care of our bodies so that slowly our own health and energy returns and makes walking through 2012 a bit easier. For each of you, I am grateful.

[melina]

Christmas went fine, but New Years Eve was the worst one ever. Today I woke up wondering how I was going to get through this next year.

A few days ago I thought to myself that this new year couldn't possibly be any worse than the past two years. It had to get better.

Now I'm wondering if that's true.

Melina

[mfh]

Melina,

I am so sorry New Year's was so tough. Reading here, it is clear you are not alone. Many of us had a tough tough week. We are all with you. As for 2012....none of us knows what the months will bring.

I plan to do one day and sometimes one hour at a time hoping the year gets easier than last year. I guess that is the only hope I do have right now. It would be nice if I became a more skilled artist this year but frankly if I am, I am and if I am not, I am not. It would be nice if..... I do not even know what I want right now....outside of Bill's return to me.

I do have a goal to take better care of myself as I am so tired of physical pain....and there are some things I can do to ease that some. I just tossed all the Christmas crap....left over cookies (people around here bring cookies....lots of cookies), bread that I made yesterday that was less than good...ice cream...all gone. I am grabbing my carbo counter again and will start counting carbs today as I feel better when the carbs are under 150. That is about the only goal I have, that and painting improvement and survival.

I wish I had a magic wand for all of us. When I started doing therapy, I was visiting my parents (both gone now) and was telling them how clients want a magic wand. My dad disappeared to his basement and a couple hours later came up with a dozen magic wands he made out of wood, paint, dowel rods. He said, "Give them one of these." so cute. Well, I want one that works....first I would bring Bill back in perfect health, then everyone else's lost loves back, then world peace with no hunger or poverty, sickness or war. I need a powerful magic wand.

[melina]

"Give them one of these." so cute. Well, I want one that works....first I would bring Bill back in perfect health, then everyone else's lost loves back, then world peace with no hunger or poverty, sickness or war. I need a powerful magic wand.

[mfh]

I suspect the next life is way beyond a magic wand....beyond our imaginations....no time, no space, to start....how can we even imagine that? What i want is a magic wand TODAY!!