I was just recently accepted as a new member of this website. I lost my beloved wife a bit over 18 months ago. It was quite a "hill to climb" for me to make a "leap of faith" to put my very personal info (& that of my late wife) out there on the internet. I am very much NOT a "tech guy".
For me to give out my very personal data that I had to do in order to become a member here says how very much I'd like to communicate, to have support, from those who are in a similar situation to me.
However, the fact that this website demanded info to join (date of wife's death, full name, etc.) gave me a measure of reassurance that it was "for real".
Hope I'm not wrong.
I would like to hear from others who are in "the same boat".
So sorry for your loss. Like so many of us we never imagined ourselves having need of this type of forum ….but here we are and I for one am thankful. I am in reality an introvert so for me to 'expose" myself like this shows just how much of an affect my husband's passing has had on me. I missed him so much and I felt as if there was really no one I could actually just say what was in my heart. Yes, I thankfully have family and some very good friends but even they have not been able to always relate to what I am feeling. Here, I have found that there are others who are struggling and dealing with the loss of a spouse just like I am doing. somehow, that has given me the "courage" to try to make some sense out of this new journey that I am on. Because of some of the comments I joined a Griefshare group in my area and that has also helped me tremendously. You mention that its been 18 months since you lost your wife. It helps me to understand that at nine months it's ok if I still have those moments where I still cry.....and when someone acts as if I should be over "it" by now I don't feel odd or abnormal because I'm not.I hope you too will find some solace in coming to this site. Be kind to yourself and know that there are others who understand and share your grief.
My wife was only 59 when she passed, but had been in declining health for a few years. Bunch of medical problems, but what finally claimed her was pulmonary hypertension, after 29 extremely hard days in the hospital with associated pneumonia. Ironically, as horrible as it was, given her condition, any other outcome would have been worse. At least she didn't linger in anguish for months / years in a nursing home (she couldn't even shift position in bed on her own, or have enough strength to press the nurse "call button"). I was with her 22 hours per day, tending to her every need, sleeping at most 20 minutes at a time, but I couldn't keep that up forever. Eventually, I'd HAVE to go back to work, what then? She had the very best doctors and medical facilities, so at least I have no gut-wrenching regrets that something else "coulda-shoulda" been done.
I just try to count my blessings that I was able to have a life with her in the first place (34 years) and try to muddle on through. I sort of find myself feeling numb and lost. Whenever I speak to someone I find myself reflexively saying things like "our place" instead of "my place", "we" instead of "I". It's the "hand I've been dealt", so I have no choice but to go on and cope with it.
We will never really be "over it". We all just have to do the best we can, and remember that our beloved spouses would not want us to be suffering, and that we will someday be re-united in eternal paradise (at least that's MY firm belief).
Thanks for your kind reply.
Welcome to WV. We are all sorry you find yourself here, but honestly, here is the best place to be. My wife, Susan, died suddenly. She went to sleep on a Sunday night and did not wake up Monday morning. We'd been married 35 years and she too had lots of medical problems. She had been a diabetic since she was 18 and eventually went through a couple of heart attacks, a double bypass, then she lost her kidneys and was on dialysis until she got a kidney transplant, and 4 years later a second one. She had five spine surgeries and ended up fused from S1 to T 10. We built our home in the mountains back in '93 and used it as a get-a-way and vacation home until September of 2012 when we retired and moved up here permanently. We celebrated our 35 anniversary in October of 2012 and on Thanksgiving Day in November of 2012 I flew her out on Flight-for-Life. As they lifted off from our front yard and flew off toward the mountains I looked up into the sky and said "Don't ya think she's had enough?" Now, I meant that as in can't you pick on someone else? Instead on the 17th of December, 2012 HE called her home. I was awoken at 0730 with the nurse telling me that they had found her not breathing at 0630 called the paramedics and that they had been working on her ever since. She had been without circulation and not breathing for an hour, I had to tell them to stop. My world imploded with that phone call. I screamed, I cried and cried some more. I scared my two boys (in their 40s) and my oldest called his minister back in Virginia who suggested that I contact the Heart Light Center in Denver. They suggested that I join the Widowed Village. It was the dead of winter and it took me three months before the weather allowed me to get over the mountain roads and the pass, and into Denver for my first Grief Group meeting. All I knew at that time was that I needed help! I had no idea what to do, and my mind did not seem to be functioning as would expect. I was lost and adrift in in a rubber raft at sea in a raging storm with no way to move and no idea what way to turn.
I too completed that form. As I filled it out, I realized the questions and answers were necessary to act as a filter to ensure our actual plight and so I completed it and sent it in. When I was approved, I logged in and decided upon a picture, name, and other stuff, as you have. I started in by joining the group in the year that Susan died, and later on branched out into a few others that I fit into. Initially I looked at the Chat Room, but I was shattered and grieving and several folks were laughing! and teasing each other! and I just could not envision myself being able to do that. I read, and I read, and I blogged and I asked questions, and I started to become aware of things around me. I checked into the Chat Room one day and was welcomed with open arms. They could tell that I was new and hesitant and crying as I typed. But we all speak the same language the language of unbelievable pain and grief and are using the same words like agony, crushed, adrift, unable to breath, to think, unable to believe that this terrible thing actually happened. This is a place you can vent, cry, scream, and communicate. You will find it helps to write. Composing questions, telling of your marriage and the time with your wife, and replying to others will make your mind organize things into order and the more you write, with details and feelings, the clearer you will think.
It will take time, and each of us moves long our own path, at our pace. Please don't think you are behind in progress. We all move at our speed.
For me, it has been 6 years now. I can look back those six years and can see and feel the difference from that day those years ago and where I am now.
Welcome. We are hear to listen and support.
Frank- So sorry for your loss (but after all, that's why we're all here). I was with my wife in the hospital, she had specified that she wanted to be resuscitated, but after 3 "flatlines" and 3 revivals the nurse took me aside (also her son & sister) and told us she was almost certainly not going to make it, but if she did there would be severe brain damage and many broken ribs (severe CPR). With agreement from her son and sister, I gave the word, and they stopped the 4th procedure. We were with her as her heart just slowed down, then stopped. It still seems so odd to be without her.
Thank you so much for your kind reply.
Than you for your note.
It is probably one of the hardest things anyone might have to do is to tell the Doctors and Nurses to please stop. It means giving up all hope. It is so final. We all hang onto hope... The nurse cautioned me to drive "SLOWLY" into the facility, that they would take care of her until I got there and they did not want me racing to get there for her. It was normally a two hour trip into Denver from where we lived. As I pulled into the parking lot and walked up to the entrance, I found myself praying that there had been some mistake and that the woman they were talking about was the room next to Susan's. The nurse met me at the door and escorted me to her room and still I prayed there was some mistake, when I approached her bed and folded down the sheet over the woman's head...It was Susan and I let out a shriek and cried and cried.
Susan had had a double bypass, and her sternum never grew back together. They call it "Non Union." After that first bout of CPR I'm sure they broke ribs and most probably lacerated her heart with the edges of the sternum. She probably had no chance at all.
Stick with us Frank..
Hi Frankinpickle, I'm so sorry for your loss. It sounds as if you have the right sort of mindset to keep plugging through the ups and downs of grief. Just to reassure you this is a "safe" place for your thoughts and feelings. I've been here for just over one year and it's been a tremendous help to me. I hope you find the same comfort.
Many Thanks for your kind reply. I have OK days and bad days, but as time marches on, there are more OK and fewer bad. I suppose that's likely how it is for many of us here. Have very few "really good" days. One really good day was the first anniversary of my wife passing, last July. I very much did not want to be alone that day, so our 12 year old grandson & I spent the day together. I taught him how to do a front brake job on the car. Step by step, I did one side, then step by step he did the other solo. He picked it up fast, was really jazzed about learning all this cool adult stuff. Once the car was reassembled, I inched it out onto the street, he got in, I said "testing time"! "Buddy, if EACH of us didn't do our half JUST RIGHT, we are in TROUBLE"! (I have done dozens of brake jobs over the years. I knew it was right, that was just said for dramatic effect). I accelerated to about 25 mph, took my hands off the wheel, moderately applied the brakes. The car stopped quiet, straight, smooth. I gave him a cheer & "high five". He was just glowing with pride! We got cleaned up and went out for a hearty lunch.
I could just FEEL my beloved Lynne beaming at us. Our grandkids were / are the center of our lives. A rare "really good" day. Thanks for letting me re-live it.
:) Make lots of memories with your Grands! My Granddaughters have been a joy to me since Jerry passed away.