I refuse to let go of my grief

[Maxmars]

Oh I didn't take it that way, but thank you for explaining it.

I just edited my post, but you replied before reading it.

I feel I have so much to share here, maybe I will do that later when I have more time.

Sharing is - in the end - why we are here. 

I would be happy to speak further... take your time...

[xpert11]

My husband is my soul mate.   We met when I was 8 and he was 10.  We have known each other 54 years and have been married almost 35 years.  He recently had bladder cancer and has just been diagnosed with Parkinsons.  That means the future is going to be rough (and expensive).

This means he's probably going to die before me.   And I can't imagine being separated from my soul mate.  I've thought about that a lot in the past couple of months.  How very difficult life is probably going to get while he's here, and then what it's going to be like after he's gone.   It just doesnt' seem right.  it's cruel.


Sorry about the late reply. I will keep you in my thoughts as the spring days grow longer, but a shadow is cast over you.

[LightAngel]

Sharing is - in the end - why we are here. 

I would be happy to speak further... take your time...

I am from Denmark so when I posted the last time it was way too early.   ​​​​​​​

I just want to say that many people get signs from the other side, but many don't notice them, or they think it is just a coincidence. Sometimes it is indeed just a coincidence, but other times it isn't (just like the case I told you about the perfume).

[Velvet Elvis]

I have to admit, I have been avoiding reading this thread.  The loss of my husband this past May is still very raw for me and we have yet to find one of the parties responsible.  But, seeing your comment this morning on my post about his accident gave me the strength I needed to venture in.  Thank you so much for thinking of me and taking the time to check in.  That means a lot more than you might imagine. 

As I write this, I just opened a $200 bottle of tequila that one on my husband's clients gave him for his 50th birthday.  A birthday he would unfortunately not be around to celebrate because someone ran a red light and he was at the wrong place at the wrong time.  I'm pouring a glass for myself and toasting to all those we have loved and lost. Your wife, Jaded's husband, my husband and all the other's I know must be out there reading this.  

My husband and I were together for 13 years and the loss for me has been earth shatteringly profound.  I cannot imagine what it must be like for you after 43 years of marriage. The void must be overwhelming.  I'm not really in a place to give advice as I am still navigating this course.  I can only offer what others who have been on this journey longer have shared with me.  I've had many people reach out to me to share their own stories of grief and loss and there seems to be one theme I hear again and again. People talk about the beauty they have found in the midst of the tragedy.  I have to admit, this was a hard one for me to wrap my head around but, I think I understand now.  The beauty is the love that endures through it all.  You said it hurts you that you appreciate her more now than when she was alive.  I too have experienced that feeling. Is it shameful?  I don't think so.  I think it's part of the beauty.  Something that we couldn't see otherwise.  

I'll share an experience that happened the day of my husband's death.  He had left for work early in the morning like he normally did.  I had a Dr. appointment that morning and left about an hour after him (little did I know he was already gone by then) My drive would have taken me through the intersection where he had his accident, but it was blocked off and I had to detour around.  I had no idea this was in any way related to my husband until much later.  When I got home, my husband's cat Max was hiding under the couch and seemed very freaked out.  This was completely unlike him and I though it very odd.  I tried to get him to come out, but he wouldn't.  I decided to let Max be and got on my treadmill and started to work out.  I wasn't even 5 minutes into my run when I suddenly and for no apparent reason said out loud, "There's going to be a lot of changes." At that very moment the phone rang.  It was the hospital calling.  Apparently, my husband had forgotten his wallet at home that day and it had taken them awhile to locate my number. I can't shake the feeling that he was there with me right before the call, trying to prepare me for what was to come.  Trying to say goodbye.  

I miss him every single day and like you there's not a moment since the accident that he's not on my mind.  Sometimes I'm angry at him for insisting on riding that stupid motorcycle, sometimes I grieve over the senselessness of it all, but the love never goes away, and I suspect that's what you're really holding onto - the love.  Don't let it go.  Don't ever let it go.

[Rigel4]

This subject has entered my conversations before.

After 43 years of marriage, my wife died.  It happened last November.  And it has never once, left my mind.

The memory has been as intrusive as a sudden sneeze, as stifling as a tangled blanket, as oppressive as summer heat, as penetrating as winter cold.  It is entirely at once both defining my every moment, and yet as comforting as one of her warm embraces.  Grief has become my new companion...

She is silent, but insistent...
"Never forget," she somehow wordlessly demands,
"But always remember the love first."

Yeah, recently I've been torturing myself with blessed memories.

While carousing among the offerings of what the algorithms 'decide' to show me on popular "short attention-span theater" I became frustrated about messages about grief and loss.  

I however, have come to appreciate its presence now... and no longer seek to 'snuff it out.' 
Or to 'move on' past this new thing that seems as much a part of me, as the very memory of her.

Yes, it hurts me... suddenly starved of her, and the light her very presence brought me.
It's a horrible thing... I find myself fantasizing about a different world where she is not gone.
It's getting tiresome to explain that I lost half of myself, I start to imagine that no one could ever truly care to empathize with such a thing.  And why should they? I'm not offended.

But I think with the first anniversary coming up... will I find a new depth of loss?  Will the time between the day before and the day after the anniversary bring any true change?  Still, it means something to some part of me... and I don't want to slip back into my memories.  Her absence is like a blinding light still... despite the time that has passed.  It hurts me that I appreciate her more, it seems, than when she was my one daily constant... that seems shameful to me; although I know when we look at the past we are often only speaking to ourselves; in our voice, with our own script.

I visited her every single day in the hospital for almost 6 months (she died there)... never missed one (wait - maybe one) ... It was weird to me that rather than feel any sense of relief ... I felt frustrated to not have that continue...

...


Forgive my rambling.  And forgive my self-indulgence please... when there are no real places to express myself, I come here... I seek neither pity nor condolences, I only intended to 'vent.'  I know that to some, actually discussing this is deplorable... I feel sorry for them.

I don't think I can talk about grief and also dispassionately exclude my own experience...  My grief is pervasive that way. 

And I don't feel like I actually want it to go away.

Shouldn't I want this to go away?

I am sorry for your loss sir. My wife died 7 years ago and it was a long a road to the end.

For me at least time has started to heal in a way , however every day i still think of her.

I expect everyone's path to be different, but at least, all we have in common in these circumstances is that things will never be the same again .

[Anna]

My condolences. It seems more like cherishing the memory of your wife than grief. If it doesn't interfere with your life or make you shut yourself off from the world and other people, then it's not a problem.

I lost my parents and grandmother and I didn't spend much time mourning. I can only imagine that the loss of a spouse hurts much more.

[Maxmars]

My condolences. It seems more like cherishing the memory of your wife than grief. If it doesn't interfere with your life or make you shut yourself off from the world and other people, then it's not a problem.

I lost my parents and grandmother and I didn't spend much time mourning. I can only imagine that the loss of a spouse hurts much more.

When I was young, I didn't think in terms of my "spouse was going to be my confidant and advisor, my emotional support and my stronghold/fortress."  I didn't even understand that she was my team mate until later in my marriage...  "When a spouse dies" for me, feels like an understatement.  She was so much more to me than a component of my world... it eventually became like there was no "I" unless there was "us."  What she thought and how she felt became part of me... 

But don't mistake that for a Disney/Hallmark marriage trope... we fought, we had issues, there was even a time when I realized that she could have done better than me for a husband... but I think that my feeling that way would hurt her now... so I'm trying to reject that idea... ugh!  I suppose I'm still growing up...  

This thread was waaaay more difficult than I imagined when I first vented about deciding not to fight the grief anymore.   I was initially prodded into it by watching one of those damned YouTube "Shorts,"  those life advice-spewing garbage droppings that are poisoning the world and telling people "how to feel" and "when." ("Don't think, just watch!")

[FlyingClayDisk]

Max, I'm sorry I don't have much to contribute other than saying how I empathize with your grief.  I cannot imagine losing my wife and soul mate, but I can imagine the grief of such a loss.  I am truly sorry for your loss.

[UltraBudgie]

I'm still with you

I'm still with you
On the continental divide facing east
The wind at my back on the cliff edge
Carrying for miles over pine trees
On the shores of Lake Michigan
With seven little beaches
And sand that won't rinse off
And by a ballpark in California
Where you can watch the game
In the scrub of northern Nevada
Keeping vigil with distant red cliffs
At a lake nameless to memory
With a sunken city below and
A concrete bunker on the shore
And nine thousand feet up
In the high New Mexico desert
Its the enchanted circle they say
I'm still with you
In the Great Sequoias so sad
Standing in the seaweed of Cape Cod
And by a river forest deep miles
In the Green Mountains of Vermont
And numb to the knee in the cruel
Ocean of the Pacific Northwest
I'm still with you
In all the places I've stood
Fixed on the beauty of the moment
As the wind takes your ashes
I'm still without you
And I'm still with you

[Iwant2believe323]

I am truly truly sorry for your loss. I want to thank you for sharing all of this with us. To bear witness to all thst you speak of is why we’re all here on this earth. To be there for one another. Even if it’s just a shoulder to lean on for the moment. Huge hugs to you ❤️.