It is so impossibly difficult at times. In the beginning, all the time. It is all about love, what we were together, the magic that only two meant to be together can share. I lived in my happy bubble for 30 years. Never had a clue how fortunate we really were to have found each other in this life until she was gone. I wish I had words to help you, but really, there are no words. In time, you'll adjust. And believe it or not, you will find some aspects of your new life that you like. And then you will feel so guilty about it. Adjust or die. Push forward, fall back. Try this, try that, nothing works. It is a roller coaster of emotions filled with emptiness. And yet, something inside us wants so badly to put the grief away, to just be done with it, and we can't break free from it. In time, you will be able to control the where and when, but it can't be suppressed for very long. But that becomes way better than the uncontrollable sobs that can come whenever and wherever. Along the way, you come to realize that you are still alive, and it becomes up to you to build a new life. So you begin to learn who you are, what you like about yourself, and what you need to change. And so we learn how to be at peace within ourselves, and come to like and love ourselves. For me, it seems like it was always "us". That was who I was, one part of an "us", and that was my identity. So really, what we lose is our identity. And we've got to look inward to find out who we are before we are able to become just a "me". A transformation occurs, barely noticeable, but we learn how to do things we never did before, how to not do things that no longer fit our lifestyle, and we become so focused on living life because we have come to realize how precious life is. And at some point, we may decide to create a new life. Or we may decide to live in our remnants until our day to join them comes. But we begin by just surviving what is without a doubt the most terrible tragedy known to mankind. No rule book. No right way and no wrong way. We just do the best we can and take it day by day, week by week, month by month, and then year by year. And someday, we find acceptance and peace about it all. And if we chose, one day we find we are in a whole new life of our choosing, happy with who we have become, and for some, another totally different person to begin building a new life all over again, but with new perspective on life and love itself. It's okay to feel bad, to feel good, to cry, to laugh, to do nothing, or do everything. But we have to go through the grief. That is the one common path we all must take. And learn to lean on all the loving people here that are suffering the same nightmare. Hope something I rambled helped a smidgen. Sometimes I think I'm more screwed up now than ever before. And that is when my saving grace of laughing at myself pulls me back up and onto my feet again. Take good care of yourself. Life is good when and if we decide to live it again. You'll be fine. Just give it time, time and more time. ~~~ Scottie

To Scottie,
Thank you for your message and your words of wisdom. I am new to this group but I hope that at sometime I will be able to make some sense of the loss of my loving husband, and the new world that faces me. Karen

Scottie, your rambling is beautiful; I know I need to go through the grieving process but it's so hard when you still think of how (retire, go to Italy, we were supposed to (retire, move to a warmer area, watch the grandbabies grow up) together. I feel I have lost my purpose and desparately need to find what that is now.

Purpose? That's a tough one. I was always the provider and now only myself to provide for. I am so focused now on living in the moment that I can't consider anything more than a month or so out. What a change for me. I had everything planned to the nth degree and never even considered the possibility of her dying at my then age of 57. And then I came to realize that the only memories I had were the moments I shared with her (and I'm not talking about mere physical presence sitting next to her working on my "project" at hand. So my whole philosophy of living life changed. I came to understand that it is the shared moments of life that matter. And it is in those moments that memories are born, and become like a necklace of precious jewels we wear around our heart. Tough lesson for me. No longer a workaholic. No longer do I try to plan ahead. I just live life in the moment today, and begin afresh with the dawn of a new day. Wait on any major decisions. I thought the one year rule didn't apply to me. But then I've made some bonehead decisions both before and after the one year mark. I've come to the hard reality that my lonely heart skews my judgment, and that is something I no longer can rely on. But the one thing I don't do is worry about it. I am attempting to live what I have come to call a life of "no regrets". I want it, I get it. I want to do it, I do it. Reckless? You bet. Purpose? To be honest, I have none that I can recognize. But purpose is sometimes best seen through the rear view mirror once it is behind us. Shortly before my wife passed, she told me that the only thing that was keeping her here was her wanting to see her grandchildren grow up. She so loved them and they were the biggest blessing of her life, having come when we had given up hope that either of her 2 kids would ever have children. So she was able to seize every moment she could with them, never knowing how short her time remaining was to be. The best I can offer you is that you make surviving this grief your sole purpose for now. Life just has a way of working it all out when we just let it come to us. ~~~ Scottie

Yes, for me this is my retirement, ALONE
My husband was 3 months from retirement. Unrealized dreams
Our life is a changing journey
We each grieve in own way & in our own time
It's little steps...
Each day will pose its challenges
Do what you can, give yourself credit
Another day dawns, the ups & downs level out in time
Keep the faith
jdp

Rays_light,
When I read your post it is so similar to mine. Married 30 years, planning to go to Italy, just had our first grandbaby and thought we had more time than we did. I am I shock that my Tom is gone , 2 weeks tomorrow. He had stage 4 throat cancer and lost 70 lbs. he was at home on hospice for 2 weeks. My daughter and I were with him when he tom his last breath and I was holding his hand. The loom on his face will never be forgotten. I miss him so much, my stomach and my heart hurt. I cannot believe at 55 I am a widow. We had plans, we loved being together, we were the best of friends....now I can hardly breath. Big hugs to you and peace.

Your last remark--that you may be ok--is something that many of us feel with mixed reactions. In the intensity of grief, we remain connected to our loved one. It may feel like dishonor to conceive of a time when it hurts less, but the connection doesn't have to end. The pain can be replaced with recognizing how we have grown as a result of giving and receiving love, by carrying on important traditions and rituals, by seeing the beauty of life through his or her lens. Even knowing the suffering I am going through, I would not trade one moment of the life we had together--because I am better for it ❤️