New Milestones, Old Grief

[melina]

Hi everyone,

It's been quite a while since I've contributed anything to this site. I've felt I was ready to move on in life and didn't need the assistance of a place such as this, especially since I've been unable to follow up posts and provide any real help and comfort to others here. In short, I'm somewhat socially dysfunctional and don't make friends easily. I wish I did, because it's a lonely path, as I'm sure most of you know.

For those who are new, I lost my husband to lung cancer nearly four years ago. It will be four years on August 5th. He had never smoked in his life, but had been exposed to asbestos as a teenager working in the engine room of a ship.

Previously I had lost my father to cancer and a brother to suicide. That was tough - but nothing could have prepared me for my husband's death. We had been together for nearly 30 years when he passed, and we have four grown sons who were very close to him.

As I said, I thought I was ready to move on in life. I've felt strengthened and changed in a number of ways. I still think about my husband every day, and I miss him terribly, yet I thought I was getting "back to normal".

That was - until now. I have four great sons - ages 30, 28, 26 and 23. All of them live in different countries - far away from me. This has been very difficult, but I've tried to accept it and be glad they're living their lives the way they wish. They've all found girlfriends/wives from other countries, meaning they've ended up where their partners' families live. We're still a reasonably close family, but it's tough when everyone is so far away. I am American, but have lived in Europe for the past 34 years, and just expected everyone would stay close to where they grew up. But they didn't.

I love my sons and they all chose wonderful, loving partners. I just wish they lived closer. This summer I've visited Canada and now the East Coast of the U.S. - spending time with two of my sons and daughters-in-law. Now here in Maine, I've just been told my oldest son and his wife are expecting their first baby. My first grandchild!!

I have mixed emotions - both thrilled to be a grandmother for the first time - and devastated that they are living in the other side of the world where I won't be able to see this child grow up - at least not on a regular basis. And most of all, my husband is not here to be a grandfather and to be by my side during this journey. I don't have my best friend to talk to, my son won't have his father around for advice, and my grandchild will never know this grandfather.

All this has sent me into new wave of surprisingly intense grief and it's just so hard. I feel fortunate to have what I have, but so unlucky to have lost someone who means so much to me and to my sons, and also unlucky to have to deal with "losing" my four children to other countries. We went to visit my daughter-in-law's parents who live nearby, and they're over the moon with happiness. They are a couple who clearly love each other and who have been together for 34 years - just as long as my husband and I would have had. They don't seem to have a care in the world.

I'm so tired of having to deal with new grief all the time - and this milestone just brought all the pain rushing back at a time when I should be happy and excited. Why can't life ever be easy?

I just wanted to put this out there and see if anyone understands or can relate.

Thanks,

Melina

[HAP]

Dear Melina,

It seems like every time we begin to get a handle on things something new emerges that finds a new way to kick us to the ground. I spent a week earlier this month with an old friend who also lost her husband. Then her mother-in-law, with whom she had been very close, died. She left to head for her memorial service, but that death opened old wounds I thought I had healed. That was followed by word of two deaths in the NET cancer communities I am involved with. I spent yesterday in a fog I could not afford as I am teaching a course this month and find myself putting lots of chores into the weekend.

So I am up at 4:30 a.m., wide awake and filled with guilt and pain and anxiety.

In short, a day like any other.

I feel your pain as intimately as if it were my own.

You have children. You are going to have grandchildren. You are going to be a grandma. Yes, they are far from you--as your grandchildren will be. But you and your husband raised children who can fly--and they will raise children who can fly. And they have a grandmother who has seen the world and has a heart tested by the worst strains imaginable, yet who still remains a compassionate and caring human being. Their other grandparents may be close to hand, but you are the one whose strength and love they will come to admire.

I envy you all of that. Jane and I were childless. Our legacy is more tenuous, more fragile. Ideals instilled by parents and grandparents have greater durability than those instilled in brief contacts with teachers or small philanthropies.

What you have may seem a small blessing and a difficult one to reconcile. But there is great joy in it--and great consolation if you choose to embrace it.

I am trying this summer to look at what I have rather than at what I have lost. It's hard because the riches I had were so great and what remains seems so small by comparison. I think, for all of us who have had a great love, that is the case. But while much is taken, as Tennyson's Ulysses says, much remains. The gods have hurt our souls but the spirit of who we were--and who we are--is still there.

So, like George Washington Carver, we put our buckets down where we are and drink what sweet water there is to be found in them.

I'm just down the road in Massachusetts. Enjoy Maine--and all that is dear to you there.

Peace,

Harry

[mfh]

Dear Melina,

So good to see you here. You are not alone with your pain. Like you I, too, think of Bill every single day and when a new grief comes along it tends to rip off the thin membrane "covering" the grief I carry around Bill's death. We are vulnerable to loss. I certainly understand your pain regarding the distance between you and your sons and now a future grandchild. You long for family, of course. Having your sons so far away has to be very difficult and I was glad to see (on Facebook) that you were in Maine with one of them. You have talked before about returning to the USA and maybe now is the time to consider that move.

As for life being easy...well, I think most of us go along for a while and life works well and then comes a bump in the road or a gigantic hole that we fall into like losing our partners. I do not think life is easy but I do believe it is made easier when we surround ourselves with folks who walk through each day (or stumble through them) feeling the loss of a spouse or other significant other. for that reason I am glad to see you back here in this warm loving circle.

I hope to see you here often. We all welcome you.

Peace

Mary

[enna]

Thank you for coming back and sharing your continued story here, Melina. As someone still ‘new’ to this grief journey I am amazed at how resilient those who have been living this nightmare really are and it gives me a different understanding of the meaning of perseverance. Those who have been on this journey longer than I have been are beacons of light and so appreciated.

We can do this and we do it by being open to the journeys of others. I continue to learn everyday from others who have gone before me. Our stories are different but the same in so many ways.

I am grateful to all those who continue to bravely walk this path of pain and joy. It takes a strong stomach to stay on the roller coaster.

Anne

[MartyT]

Melina, my dear, welcome back ~ you've been missed, and it's good to "see" you here again. ♥

You asked if anyone understands or can relate, and as the mother of two grown sons I certainly can and do relate. On the one hand, I take great pride in the fact that we raised our sons to be strong, independent, well rounded, and well-educated men ~ but the price we pay for that is high. They both live thousands of miles away from me (one in the middle east, the other across the country) and so do all four of my grandchildren. That old saying (that a son is a son until he takes himself a wife) holds very true in my family ~ and as much as I believe that is as it should be, it's still very difficult to accept. I just want you to know that you are not alone in experiencing yet another form of loss, and the grief you feel about your circumstances is legitimate and real. ♥

[kayc]

Melina,

This is what I was feeling when my son was considering moving to Boise (last Christmas). I cannot afford to fly and I knew he would be busy working long hours and we would not see each other. I have very little contact with my daughter and to lose my son too seemed unbearable. On Mother's Day I learned that my son and his wife lost the baby that would have been my first grandchild.

I used to have lots of friends but they disappeared and it seems I don't make friends as easily as I once did. It is easy for me to hibernate, but I know it's not good for me.

I don't see much of my kids even though they live in the same state. My son was "home" last weekend, the first time since before Christmas, but most of the time he and his wife were off visiting friends. That's just how it is. It is not like it was for my mother, for I made time to go see her every week and she got to enjoy having her grandchildren close by.

The town that I live in has a lot of retired people in it...some fortunate enough to have children, grandchildren close by. But many, many others are in the same situation I am in...alone. I am resigned to living alone, but still make effort to get out and see people now and then, try to make friends. It's tough because every time I make one, they move. I am facing that now as my best friend is spending more and more time in TX with her BF and her BF is wanting to get married and live there.

I think we were successful parents that raised our kids to be happy and independent. But of course, we miss them. The days when I had a family of my own are gone and the baton has been handed down.

[Wifflesnook]

Dear. Melina

I too really feel for you. I'm lucky enough to have two grand daughters but my Pete died when the eldest was only 2 and sadly, although he knew our daughter was pregnant he died the day after our second grand daughter was born. And only today I came across an email he had sent to someone when he found that our daughter was pregnant, in which he said he had lost hope of becoming a grand-dad and now he was going to be one with two. And as you can imagine this made me so sad to read. All I can say is that we have to do our best with what we do have, even though that sounds so trite and unhelpful. My heart is sad for you, but despite the distance I do so hope that you can have as much of a relationship as possible with your new grand child. I've just been on Face Time with ours. That does help to keep the relationship going. It's not the same as a cuddle of course. Jan

[melina]

Thanks everyone for your warm replies. I forgot how helpful this site can be, and how kind and giving people are here.

Harry - I've been working hard to look at the positives and have tried to view the more difficult times as learning experiences. I'm grateful I had children - it's just that having children also involves pain and sorrow in many ways. It looks like I'll be visiting Maine quite often - flying from Oslo via Reykjavik to Boston. So maybe one day we'll have coffee and talk about how far we've come.

Mary, Anne, Marty, Kay and Jan - thanks for your words too. Kay - I know that it was tough having to face the prospect of your son moving away. Believe me, I know that pain - especially now. Marty, it sounds like your sons are successful and doing well, even though they're far away.

My main worry - and it's a huge one - is that despite good educations, my sons are not doing very well in the job department. My oldest son, the one in Maine, is working at a poorly paid job with awful hours, and he's feeling pretty down and depressed about it, especially with the baby coming. I'm working extra jobs to help out my sons with their student loans. Norwegian student loans with American and Canadian paychecks are extremely difficult to pay.

I have long suspected that we made some big mistakes in not steering out sons into educations that would actually land them good jobs. My sons are fine people, but they're not doing well financially. I'm feeling very panicky about the whole situation. I don't know if they'll ever really manage. What if they end up destitute?

After my husband - their father - died, we all sort of froze. My oldest son was especially affected, and was unable to finish his Masters degree because of it. Had my husband lived, I think they'd all be doing much better. I wish I could reset my life and do things properly this time - not make any mistakes. That includes handling my husband's illness differently.

It just feels unfair to have to deal with all this worry alone. I know I shouldn't compare my life with other people's lives, but it's hard not to. I see other couples the same age still alive and well and together, and have children with good jobs and grandchildren nearby. I just don't understand why this has to happen to me. I know other people are struggling far more than we are, but still...

Anyway, thanks for listening. If anyone knows of a decently-paid job in the eastern United States for a hard-working young man with a bachelors degree and a few years of job experience - let me know!

Melina

[feralfae]

Dear Melina,

Your heart is troubled on so many levels, and I am so sorry for all your are going through right now. The worries about your sons must add another heavy layer to the burden of grief.

I am just wondering if you have talked with your sons about their grief, because perhaps they need some help to cope with moving through their grief, and I think we all know how stuck we can get when we try to hold everything together and go on after a few days of paid bereavement leave from a job.

I am sorry you are in such a situation. These special days have not become easier for me, either. Doug has been gone 29 months, and I still have days of needing to cocoon and just gently care for myself with funny movies, good books, napping, meditation, guided imagery, and the occasional toasted GF bagel with ghee. That is my comfort food these days.

Perhaps it is time for a family conference. Maybe there are things that could change to make the situation better for everyone. Just a thought.

I wish you some peace and some time when you are able to smile and find joy in the moment.

*<twinkles>*

fae

[kayc]

I know that here in America they are considering doing something to help the college loan situation because ultimately, it affects the economy, with people not being able to move on or buy a house, less $ to spend, etc. I don't know anything about Norwegian student loans, but I assume the $ was taken out at a higher exchange than it's being paid back with, and that is a tough situation. Perhaps your son could continue working towards his Master's where he is at, even if slowly.

Even with being completely qualified, my son has not been able to find an opening in Robotics, but he still hopes to do so some day. For now, he's working on making a nice life for himself and his wife, buying a house, still trying for a baby. I hope it doesn't take them long to get pregnant again, I know it's very desired and I know all too well the pain of not having one when you're wanting that so badly.

I am sorry you are in so much pain, we've all been there too, because of one circumstance or another. I, too, see friends on FB going on trips to the Bahamas, etc. and I struggle to get groceries or make much needed home repairs. Others have great weekends and family time on holidays, and I face day after day being the same and being alone. This is not what George and I had planned! I don't know the answer, but I try to be happy for those with good fortune and avoid the envy pit. I do try to stay in the present moment and remember what I do have to be thankful for. Last night I learned of a lady who is in a horrible marriage with someone who threatens to kill her, etc., and I thought how fortunate I was to have peace in my home even if it means being alone. There are worse things.

I do understand how you feel being so far away from your first grandchild...this is what I fear too. To me, it seems as unreachable to have to travel across the state, particularly in the winter as I can't do overnight trips then and don't drive in the dark, it limits me. And with limited finances, I don't have the gas $ to do a lot of out of town driving. Yes everything changed for us the day we lost our soul mate and best friend. I try not to think unduly about how my life would be different if George hadn't had a heart attack.

I do hope you can find a compromise, lots of skyping, and occasional trips/visits.

[melina]

Thanks Kaye,

I am trying to stay positive - but sometimes there's too much stuff to take in and process, and I just want to escape from it all.

I got home from the states a couple of hours ago - feeling kind of sad and worried about my kids, and really alone, but too tired to care. Hopefully things will look better tomorrow.

It's true though - even though kids are in the same country - even in the same city - we may not see them that often. On the plane there were all these happy couples returning home from vacation, or coming to Norway for vacation. The couple behind me were constantly talking about their grandkids and how they were looking forward to coming home to be with them - together. It just feels extra tough right now.

Thanks for letting me vent...

Melina

[kayc]

Melina, it IS hard, and there's nothing wrong with venting. Sometimes I find I handle things really well and seem so well adjusted and doing okay, happy, independent, making great decisions. Other times I feel overwhelmed, alone, and despair of the life I'm living. I guess we have a myriad of emotions, all of them real and valid, each one to be lived and gotten through. For the most part I do okay, but I have my times...I guess we all do.

It seems unfair that some get to see their kids and have grandchildren nearby to visit and enrich their lives with while others are left alone to fend for themselves and spend their holidays alone. But life is unfair and sure isn't doled out evenly! I continually have to try to look for the good and live in the present, it's the only way I can bear it.

[mfh]

Hi Melina, I imagine coming home to that silent house was painful. I know it is for me. Bentley's presence helps some but the bottom line is it is lonely when we walk in that door and no one is there to embrace us and listen to our stories. Just know I am thinking of you.

Mary

[HAP]

We all are.

--H

[melina]

Thanks guys, it does help me to feel less alone...

[mfh]

I am so glad you are here with us, Melina. I think having a place to come to...day or night...to share feelings, joy, pain, whatever does help us feel we are less alone. As wonderful as it is to have kids and grand kids, my experience with those I see around me is that the lives of their kids are busy and though they may or may not keep in touch with their parents, they have their own lives and tend to get very involved in them frequently being unavailable to their bereaved parent. It is the way of life. This group is always here for you...always.

[melina]

Thank you; Mary - that's very true. It's good to have people to talk to.

You know what's weird - it's been almost four years now, four years of being alone, and some days I just can't believe this really happened. It still seems so strange to be here without him.

I wonder if that feeling will ever go away.

[mfh]

Melina, I surely get that. It is 4 years and 4 months yesterday that Bill died and there are days I still am left breathless at the shock of what has happened. And yes to be without him (especially since he was part of who I am) is strange and unreal. I hear you very well. As for the feeling going away...I have talked to many whose loves died any number of years ago (1, 5, 10, 22) and everyone is different. As for me I will miss him forever and I know you will miss our beloved forever also.

So glad you are here.

Mary

[kayc]

For me it seems like a dream that he ever existed. I look at pictures of us, cards he wrote to me, things he bought me, but it still seems surreal that he was ever really here. It seems like so long since he's held me. It's just hard to believe all of this has happened.

[melina]

Feeling really out of sorts today as it's exactly four years since my husband's death. I really didn't expect it to hit me that hard. It's four years after all. But everything feels bleak. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

Melina

[mfh]

I thought of you this morning when I realized it was the anniversary of your husband's death. I still find these days to be difficult and I went through the 4th anniversary last March. We relive so much before and on the day. I truly hope tomorrow is easier...and since it is 8pm there now...you made it through most of the day. I usually feel relieved with these special days come to an end. Take care, Mary

[HAP]

Dear friends,

I find myself in a peculiar place these last several days. Writing the death piece took me back to the beginning of all this and reduced me to the tears i shed when I was alone right after Jane died. Usually, I feel better after a good cry, but not this time. Maybe I have just not cried enough. Maybe August--with all its awful anniversaries--our last vacation together, the biopsy, the diagnosis, the 44 month anniversary of her death, the first hospitalization, the first visit to the oncologist, our wedding anniversary at the beginning of September--was not the right time to write so heavy a piece.

Nothing seems right. Nothing seems real. Like Kay, it all seems like a dreadful dream. I am sitting here under the deck, as we did on so many summer afternoons, trapped in this loneliness without her in the chair next to me. It is in these simple moments that I am overwhelmed by what I--what we all--have lost.

This endless, ongoing gum surgery doesn't help matters. It, too, is a constant reminder of loss. I am constantly writing, constantly thinking, constantly feeling--but none of it is what I want to be writing, thinking, or feeling. The hummers have been flitting in and out all afternoon, but I have no one to share them with. I think it is the sharing I miss most of all.

Off to the north I can hear the thunder of the not too distant storm. It may or may not get here. We could use the rain--and I could use the metaphoric release of a good strong rain. But I need more than a metaphor to shake off this mood. I need to work at feeling alive again. I have spent too long in the grave--too long with the dead.

Peace,

Harry

[Wifflesnook]

Yes I know this. I keep still hoping that Pete will come back. Against all logic. It would make world news wouldn't it? But I still hope. When good and bad things happen we are so used to sharing. I can't get used to it.

I'm sorry that writing that heart felt piece has so unsettled you Harry. We are all here around this fire. It isn't much when we only want one thing, and that thing cannot happen. But it's something.

[ohsosad]

Harry,

I also feel overwhelmed when I see that empty chair on the deck. I cannot sit in my chair. It is too painful not to be sharing tea and conversation, looking out at the tall fir trees and watching the birds fly high in the sky. After Steve died I sent two balloons up into that sky and watched until I could no longer see them. Now I still look for them. Where are they? Did they reach him? Can I send myself up there also?

Twelve years ago this Friday (8/8) we moved into this lovely house which would be our place to live for the rest of our lives. August 18th would be our 40th wedding anniversary. These dates are only pain now, nothing to be celebrated with a special person who is gone.

Rita

[mfh]

Harry, you did a tough thing writing that amazing piece and I totally understand how the feelings you are now experiencing have surfaced. I agree with you...it is the sharing that is so missed. I read a piece about losing a spouse and the jist of it was that loneliness for that one person is the toughest part of this loss. Oh, there are many other secondary losses but sitting on a deck sharing the beauty of the hummingbirds is NOT secondary. It is what we lost. The sharing that each of us who have lost a spouse or partner had was sacred and unique and no one else can be there as our partners were. I do hear you and I experience that same desire to share every single day. I am thinking about you these days in this month of August and early September. Peace be yours in the midst of your pain, Mary