Hi Everyone! 

So many new folks here and so much time has passed since my last post- I feel I should reintroduce myself.  My name is Robyne and I am a widow of a wonderful man named Bernie.  He died, age 57, 5 days after his last radiation treatment for cancer of the throat.  He died suddenly of a heart attack.  Today is the 36 month anniversary of his death.

These are some of the things I experienced- 

The first two weeks I was in shock mode.  Couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep without medication- and then only briefly, couldn’t hardly finish a thought- probably because of a lack of sleep.  During this phase, I took pride in how well I handled my grief- I tried to take care of everyone else’s feelings.  When asked how I was doing, I caught myself saying “amazingly well” more than once and kicked myself for being so nonchalant.  In truth, looking back, I think I felt guilty for not feeling worse then I did.

Then came week three- when the visits and calls died down and I went back to work and life went on without him and reality sank in.  I no longer felt guilty for not feeling worse because I never in my life felt  or even realized other people could feel so bad.  As soon as I realized he really wasn’t coming back- I just wanted to be with him. I went to the cemetery to visit him and when I finished visiting him I spent two hours going to all the double stones to try to figure out how long the average spouse survived after being widowed because I needed to know how long I would have to suffer.  I was blessed with many beautiful signs that Bernie was still near- but I wanted him with me physically.  I’d cry myself to sleep almost every night and wake up and say aloud “No- Bernie no- Breathe!” just as I had the morning he died.  I struggled to get to work and hated facing another day without my love and best friend beside me.

Then, somewhere between months 3-4, suddenly, a weight lifted.  I woke up one morning and I did not feel quite as miserable as I had the morning before.  With this realization- came the most welcome knowledge that maybe, just maybe, it does get a little more bearable.  I had a glimmer of hope and that made a world of difference.

The following two years have taught me that those who speak of grief coming in “waves” have found the perfect metaphor.  There are days when I am full of hope and there are days when life is a struggle without him- but most days are somewhere in between- with me always loving and remembering him- but some days with a grateful attitude  for having ever had the experience of his love and others an overwhelming attitude of loss- for him, for me and for the wonderful future that we had planned.

When he died, I fully expected that my life as a couple died with him.  I never expected I would date again.  After all- he had been “the one.”  People tried encouraging me to join a dating service- and uggghh I couldn’t even fathom doing that- too much trouble.  Then, about a year and a half after Bernie was gone- I met someone who showed an interest in me.  With the agreement to just be “casual” I started seeing him.  It didn’t work out- but it opened me up to the possibility of enjoying time with someone without strings.  

On and off since Bernie passed, I experienced sleep issues.  I would sleep 2-3 hours a night and wake up unable to sleep any longer.  This would go on for a week or two and then I’d go back to sleeping 5-6 hours.  About 8 weeks ago, I was going through the 2-3 hour sleep cycle and it had been going on for about a month.  I was wearing myself out.  I had a dream about an ex-boyfriend of mine and woke up thinking about the dream and remembered a time, while I was in college and he was located far away we had talked to each other on the phone and when I was stressed he could calm me down and help me sleep better.  Over the years I had lost touch with him- but his mother and I remained in contact.  She had, not subtly, suggested I should contact him several times recently because he was divorced and had three kids that needed a mother.  Uggghhh!  “No thanks- I am a grandmother now- my mothering days are, thankfully, over.”  But it didn’t stop her from suggesting it again, the next time we talked.

Out of desperation to solve my sleep problems, and, admittedly because I was so doggone lonely, I sent him a message via Facebook that morning.  It was the first contact we had in twenty years.  We texted that evening and then we talked all night on the phone.  By the third day- he made the trip to see me.  Two weeks ago we were married.

This post is already far longer than I intended, but it is important for me to share it with you because I want you all to know that I firmly believe that God has such beautiful things in store for you- things that in your grief- you might not even imagine possible right now.  I don’t presume to know that your beauty will be another marriage- but I believe that what is right for you will be yours and it is possible to find happiness again.  It will never be the same, but even in its difference- it might be just as beautiful.

With Love,

Robyne