Widows & Widowers Support Group
This community is dedicated to those who have lost a husband, wife, or partner. Anything is open for discussion here, with the hope that we can focus on grief, bereavement, life after loss, and continuing on after a great loss.
New here - first post and wanted to say "hello" to all who are on this difficult journey of losing a loved one...to finding their "new normal."
May we all find peace, courage and strength to move forward in life and be blessed by HIS grace and wisdom.
I lost my beloved husband of 30 yrs almost four years ago at 63, and my loss remains profound. I miss him everyday and feel very alone without him. I think most days I am doing well, and others, not so much. He died in my arms - at home - after losing his courageous battle with cancer. I was privileged to be his caregiver for seven years and promised him I would look after his mother. I lost her a year later. I lost my mother the following year and my best friend last summer. I recently learned her husband died unexpectedly almost 7 months to the date and doctors said his "broken-heart" contributed to his passing. I dislike these losses very much and unfortunately, know there will be more-
I am just now feeling, after all these years of spinning my wheels going nowhere, that I need to make some changes in my life that may bring more joy, peace and happiness. However, many days, I just feel "stuck" as if life is passing by too quickly. My support systems are limited. My hopes and dreams are many!
What has been your biggest challenge after losing your spouse?
Once again, sending positive thoughts and good wishes to those who are struggling. You are not alone-
-
Today I feel grateful. Grateful for my dog Blue (Blue Jean Baby Queen, Prettiest girl I've ever seen). Grateful I'm still kickin'. Grateful I'm finally taking responsibility for my health. Grateful I own my home. Grateful for good friends and neighbors who watch over me. Grateful to God for His everlasting love and patience with me. Grateful I survived the 10 years since my wife of 30 years...
I so much can identify with you. After my husband passed away, I, too, had multiple losses. I lost my three siblings and both brothers' wives; my daughter moved four hours away, and now my son plans to move states away within the year. I think my biggest challenge has been finding purpose to live. Although I still work full-time, I am at retirement age; but I continue to work. If I didn't go into work, I know I would spend my time on the couch (even though I have plenty to do here at home). Yes, I, too, feel that I am in a rut and as you said, "spinning my wheels." My husband and I were so devoted to each other, and a large part of me went with him when he passed away. The therapist that I see keeps telling me that in order for there to be a change, a change must be made. I know it is up to me to quit dwelling in the past and longing for "the way that it used to be." However, change, at my age, is hard and scary. I wonder if I am ever going to be able to find peace and acceptance that my life is never ever going to be the way it was when my dear husband was here. Roxanne
I still long for my husband, I want to hear his voice, see him, touch him. Have the day to day life we had before his passing. While I know he's gone its so hard for me to think that each day I face has been and will be faced alone. Making a "new" something is not what I wanted but what I was forced to do. Nothing is the same and my heart hurts. Its a daily fight to figure out the next step in this grief journey. Hugs to you
Lisa
I hope there is progress ahead for you soon with your husband's headstone graphics .... and completed perfectly - exactly as you want! I imagine it is hard to head towards the cemetery knowing his grave isn't marked yet.
I waited seven months for my dear husband's and when it was finally placed, the folks chipped the bottom and scratched the back side badly. I was furious, I guess they figured I wouldn't notice, but I sure did!!! Others probably not so much. It was placed on a concrete slab to keep it level and accommodate the groundskeeper. My daughter picked it out and was very pleased even with the imperfections....just like how we were - imperfectly perfect for one another.
It was kind of you to respond...this reaching out via internet is new to me...I thought maybe I could get additional strength and clarity from others, as well as share some of my experiences if it could possibly help someone else
I am sending my positive thoughts to you today
I wanted to go back to work, but after taking care of my husband for so many years, the position was no longer available to me - and I had my hands full with my mother-in-law
I use to volunteer at a local hospital, but after my journey with dear husband and his serious health needs - well, I never wanted to see another doctor or be in a hospital environment again if i didn't have to... it took me 3 years to make appointments for general checkups - everytime I picked up the phone I about had an anxiety attack - haha
Silly I know, but finally figured out no one is here for me and I'm really on my own and better make sure everything is good - which it is for now. I am grateful for that, as I have three siblings with cancer presently and it all gets scary again
Your desire for peace and acceptance that things will never be the same has to be universal - I know it won't either, but on another level, I want it to be so much...
I wish he would have allowed me to be a bit more independent over the years and involved in the maintenance with the house, the finances, etc. because that would have served me well when I lost him, He was my rock, my superstar, my protector, and would absolutely do anything to keep his "girls" happy and well-cared for.
Change is hard and scary, especially with a lack of support. I lost so many supposedly friends after several years of his cancer treatment. I don't think people knew what to say or do anymore and maybe it scared them looking at their own mortality. I feel like a third wheel when out with the still marrieds and there are just a few widows here my age...they have since moved closer to family and out of state.
I really want to get this moving thing right - its such a huge decision
The house is too big and makes me feel even more alone.. and although, I love the memories connected to it, it's getting to be the time to move along...plus I find that the yard work and general upkeep isn't as fun or meaningful without him.
I am grateful we let each other know every day of our married life how much we loved each other and how appreciative we were to have found each other to love and care for in our mid-thirties...which seemed so old for a first marriage back in the day (hahaha)
I hope your days get easier for you...I do very well for awhile and then "Boom" - something out of the blue triggers a mini meltdown for me
I am leaning hard right now on my faith to get me through this and seek HIS guidance on what HE would want for my life...I just need to be more patient and listen for answers
Hugs to you-
So kind of you to share your thoughts and I am sorry for your loss and struggles
It all seems so unfair! It hurts so much knowing things will never be the same and he won't be back - I struggle with the nights. Big house, no kids around except my fur baby, and the silence is deafening sometimes - it makes me anxious- sometimes I answer my thoughts aloud just to hear a voice ( should I be worried? - lol))
It's no fun... I hate loss, obituaries, death, funerals, the whole shebang...just seems to magnify my own loss substantially and think it's one of he hardest things to accept as an adult
I am sending hugs to you and hoping in some way your day went better than expected - we have to be aware, happy and grateful when that happens!!! and again, I am very sorry for your loss and that you have to go through this chapter
Hugs to you-
“Alright, here goes. I’m old. What that means is that I’ve survived (so far) and a lot of people I’ve known and loved did not. I’ve lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can’t imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here’s my two cents.
I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to “not matter”. I don’t want it to be something that just passes.
My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gouged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see.
As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive.
In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life.
Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out. Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.”
I am very sorry for for your losses and like your positive perspective
It was very helpful to my head and heart as I start my day!
I have a strong feeling others would concur.
May your day be blessed. Peace to you-