Thankful and Lucky

9.14.17

I went to a Young Widow group tonight. It was my first time and I arrived late (stupid google map!) so missed some of the introductions. My friend Kelly, who lost her husband only 22 days before I lost mine, went with me. It was really great to see her, more on that in a bit.

There was one topic that sticks out. It was around how widows lose friends and even family. A common experience is that immediately after your spouse dies everyone wants to help, but eventually those offers dry up. And people feel bad asking for continued help, or to first start asking for help after XXX length of time has passed. Then there is the loss of friends – couples that you did things with and also friends that were more your spouse’s friends than yours. One woman experienced being told to not text a friend’s husband after both couples had texted each other interchangeably for many years. She was shocked to feel like a threat after so many years. And finally there is the loss of family members – the in laws and that side of the family. I have heard more than once that the in laws just sort of evaporate.

So, there Kelly and I sat listening and participating at some points, but after the meeting we sat in her car for THREE HOURS and just talked. One of the first things we said was how LUCKY we both are that we have NOT experienced the loss of friends or family. Kelly just had a One Year Remembrance BBQ for her husband and there were over 125 people there! Kelly and I have some friends in common (and many more individually) and they are all still there for us in the same capacity in which they always have been. We also both had and still have GREAT relationships with our mother in laws and our husband's families. We have both talked to our MILs about the “what if I remarry?” question and both told us that they would remain our MILs; we’d just get more. I have never felt so appreciative and thankful in my whole life.

So what did we talk about for 3 hours? Our husbands. Our sadiversaries. Psychics and mediums. Grief groups. Work. Trying to be social. Being indecisive. Being lonely. Closet space. Everything! We could not believe how in sync we were with our grief status, thoughts, and feelings. We lost our spouses just 22 days apart and we are only 1 year apart in age. Our losses are different in that my husband’s life was slowly stolen by a horrible cancer and her husband’s life was ripped from him in an instant by a FedEx truck. But so many other facets of our lives are very similar.

Here is a funny snippet from our conversation. Neither of us is ready to take off our wedding rings, yet both of us would like a male friend in certain situations; we notice the gaping hole in our lives. In reality we want our husbands returned but since that’s not possible then at least a stand-in male would be nice. Before, we chose to do an activity with our girlfriends, siblings, children, or husband, etc. It’s sad to deal with the feeling of powerlessness when the option for husband has been forcibly removed. So, on the one hand we want to wear our wedding rings but on the other hand we still want a male friend. However, if a man approached us, knowing we have wedding rings on, we would instantly think he was a jerk for going after a married woman! Guess we can’t have our cake and eat it too.

It was the closet

Shot through the heart.

In grief group they are called ambushes. I don’t really like that word, but I guess it fits. I think of them as a shot through the heart because that’s where it hurts. And man, it hurts.

Today my son needed a t-shirt, because he didn’t tell me he was out of clean ones, and so I went to get him one of his dad’s. All of his clothes is still in our closet, exactly as he left them; mine hanging on the left, his on the right. I spread them apart where they meet on the clothes rod and the first shirt of his that faced me was his favorite camping t-shirt. It wasn’t dusty. It wasn’t saggy. It looked like it just came out of the laundry and was holding Howie’s shape. I could vividly picture him in it. His muscular chest, tan arms, and beautiful face. Ow! Right in the heart. Damn that hurt! Suddenly the tears were there but I held them in. I looked around at all of his stuff. It’s all waiting because he will be back in just a second to wear them, right? 

F*ck, it's almost been a YEAR...

Up until now his clothes, his things, have all been “white noise.” I see them but I’m not thinking about them. They are part of the scenery. Like when you drive on autopilot. You got from A to B but you don’t remember anything specific from along the way. But suddenly today that shirt, his clothes, were hurting me. Why? Is it because the first marking of his death is coming? It is time to get rid of, or at least pack up, his clothes? But how could I?

Another widowed friend, 4 years out, (geez, I know a lot of widows all of the sudden!) told me that she has kept her husband’s office the same as how he left it. She said she didn’t want to erase him. He LIVED after all; he made a mark on people’s lives. I agree with and love that sentiment.

So, like I always do, I look at his picture and the urn on my headboard and ask what to do. And ask for strength. And tell him that I miss him. And I love him.

Being a widow sucks.

ha! checking to see how many widow blogs there are - tons! I'm not that special after all.

Well, that was a bit of a surprise. Who knew there were so many other widows blogging? And I don't even really know how to search for blogs!

Challenging and Emotional Days

8.31.17

I lack motivation, I'm tired, when is the last time I had a belly laugh or a giggle fit? Maybe I'm depressed.

If I knew 100% for a fact that I would be with Howie and we would continue on happily, I would consider death. I'm not suicidal, don't worry. I know that the above is not guaranteed; no one knows what happens after death. I just mean that it hurts that much, I miss him that much, and I just want to be with him that much that such a sacrifice could seem worth it.

I've been thinking that thought for a while now. It's funny to see it written down. Again, even though I may be depressed I am not suicidal (in the event anyone besides me ever reads this). The thing that makes it impossible for me to take that step is not my son, not those who will be left behind, not that it's wrong, not that I am afraid; it's that it's not guaranteed that Howie and I would continue on happily (meaning he is free from the monster that stole his life, etc). For all I know we are all just extinguished like a flame when we die. So the risk is not worth it. I will just have to wait and see and hope.

Seeing that thought written down makes me laugh because I think outwardly I look pretty normal, like I'm handling this pretty well. People who see me might be surprised that I have these thoughts. Another widow probably wouldn't be surprised though. I might ask that.

I have 2 widowed friends. Sadly, our spouses were all taken in the space of about 2 months. My friend Kelly's sadiversary (I cannot say anniversary which implies a happy occasion to me) is tomorrow. One year for her. That is making me terribly sad and moody today because mine is coming up fast. She is having a remembrance BBQ next weekend for her husband. And tomorrow his ashes are being put into a columbarium (a niche in a building for cremated remains). I had been thinking about how to remember Howie on this first sadiversary. It will fall on a Saturday so I'll likely be at the camper. I was thinking of a Howie Fire.

We had a toast to him at the Kelly Family reunion last weekend. Kelly (his mom) brought Jameson and cola (one of Howie's preferred drinks). She was crying, I held it together fairly well. Her brother Jimmy made a nice, funny toast - something like "There's someone who was here last year that is missing this year. To the Duck." If you remember, there was a movie called Howard the Duck back in 1986. A few of Howie's uncles referenced him as that after it came out. Howie actually did not like that nickname but he let it slide, like most other things.

And my final thought for today, well I guess there will be two. First, there is an amazing song by Clean Bandit featuring Zara Larsson called Symphony. The video tears me apart. Watch it some time, but be warned if you've ever lost someone, especially your significant other. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aatr_2MstrI

Second, I guess this IS a bit therapeutic, in part because I'm writing what I'm saying to Howie in my head. I miss you, my love.

An Attempt - to write, and to be less "not happy"

7.31.17

Well, it looks like I might be writing here after all. I haven't told anyone that I am doing this, so unless someone stumbles on this by accident, I guess it's not really out there in the universe.

I am not happy. I miss my husband terribly, yet, in many ways I still don’t believe he isn’t here, somewhere just beyond my sight-line. I guess that is in part due to the fact that all of his stuff is just where he left it, his picture is on my headboard, and so is he. I am so grateful that he opted for cremation because I just don’t think I could bear knowing he was in a cemetery somewhere. I would feel compelled to go there to talk to him whereas now he’s still here at home and I can talk to him ad nauseam.

I do not want to be not happy so I have decided to try to fix some things that are contributing. I used to be an expert organizer and planner but since Howie died I just don’t have the motivation. We used to talk over everything, no matter how trivial (well, except that ATV purchase after his dad died but that’s another story), because we really were the other half of each other’s brain. I find that I have now become very indecisive.

I had an opportunity to go to our lake cabin with my brother and a bunch of cousins. They go every year and circumstances allowed me to be home for it this year. I hemmed and hawed for days and finally, on Friday, the start of the weekend, I decided to go. The weather was great, I love spending time with my cousins, I could use a distraction and some FUN, and this fell under trying to fix things that are contributing to my not happy-ness. Since no one knew I was coming it was a great surprise. They were generous with their preplanned food and beverages and made me feel welcome. It was fun and I am glad I went.

I have tried to be more relaxed less bothered about things. I have a never ending list of things to do. I love, love, love my Google calendar and the Google Keep app. Between those two I can be reminded of a lot of things! I hardly ever get the items done on the day I put them on the calendar, but they do get done. I made a calendar named "Maintenance" and put everything on there from adding softener salt, cleaning the laundry tub, to driving Howie's truck (yes, it has to be driven every 2 weeks!). 

I need to do this so that I don't kill myself from stress. It is not good to constantly have adrenaline flowing. 

Write what you know

I know that life without my husband is sad and difficult at times. I am one of the lucky ones though. I have a great family, great in laws, and great friends. My brother lives with me, has for the past 15 years, and has really helped fill in the gaps left by my superhero.

It has been 10 months and 4 days since my beloved Howie left my life, not that anyone but me is counting. There are a lot of things to count in widowhood, especially in this first year. You count how many days since he left, you count how many times and for how long you cry, you count how many events you’ve managed to survive, and sometimes you count your blessings. That’s the hardest because without Howie nothing really seems that great.

It is hard to describe to someone that is not a widow how I feel at this point. I am not unhappy, I am just not happy. Life is not fun anymore. I have most of the logistics down – how to function day to day – but I am still figuring out how to absorb my husband’s whole life into mine (e.g. car maintenance, lawn maintenance, grocery shopping, cooking, and on and on).

Why write now? To capture my thoughts and feelings TODAY, to be able to look back and see if I’ve been able to move forward without the love of my life, and maybe, just maybe to help another widow that also is not sure if she’s normal and offer reassurance that she’s not alone. I’m waxing a bit philosophical as I’m not 100% committed to doing this. I don’t know if I really want to write, or if I do, that I want it out there in the universe for all.

I guess we’ll see.

Write About It, They Said...

Write about it, they said. It'll help, they said. This is some of the advice I've heard since my beloved husband, my soulmate, the other half of my brain, passed away on 9.23.16.

"Passed away," I guess that sounds better than "died." Passed away somehow implies peaceful, smooth, or serene, but Howie's death was anything but. I relive that night more often than I wish. I relive it to remember him. I relive it to punish myself. I relive it because it's the last memory I have of him. And, no matter the pain, I don't want to forget a single minute of my life with him.

"Passed away" is also better than just "passed." That is one of my pet peeves. Passed what? Passed the test? Passed gas? I don't know why people feel the need to truncate "passed away" into just "passed."

So, why start writing about it now? Why not start journaling before he died, or immediately afterwards? Well, the beforehand journaling is there - in his CaringBridge site. Thank you CaringBridge for being an awesome, free, site to share mostly what is bad news with a wide audience. Why not immediately afterwards? I guess because I was numb. And I thought I was doing ok.