Advice or suggestions welcome.

General chat
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Hi,

This is my first post in the community although I joined within days of losing my husband last November.

I apologise if the subject has been covered elsewhere, but I can’t see anything with exactly the same content.

My husband and I have 5 adult children and several grandchildren as well as step-grandchildren and he was such a massive part of all of our lives.

We are all struggling in different ways to come to terms with losing such a big part of us and the changes it has made.

I have been trying to sum up some of the difficulties I’ve had on an emotional level so I could try to find a way to manage parts of this grief and my own existence but havent been able to find the words.

Then today, one of my daughters said to me that she knows that everybody processes this in different ways and that its best to let things happen at their own pace. But that it felt as though all of the love she has for her dad had “nowhere to go” and she didnt know how to deal with that.

When she said that it really hit home. I related to it so much. I’ve accepted that I won’t see him alive ever again and that is a hugely difficult thing to try and come to terms with but it’s something that isn’t always as painful as it was. But, just as my daughter said, it hasn’t stopped me loving him or lessened how much I love him. But I don’t know what to do with the love I feel.

I write to him in a journal, I talk about him to people, I’m slowly learning to not ask him out loud where I’ve put the keys/my purse/my phone etc. (I seem to misplace everything I touch, but that’s something that’s always been the case with me.) I still tell him several times daily that I love him - sometimes it makes me grin because I remember how he would often respond with “I love me too”. (He wasn’t someone who verbally expressed their feelings often, you’d just know from his actions.)

I’m working on planning out an area of the garden especially for him too.

But none of these things seem to channel that huge amount of love TO anywhere.

I hope that makes sense to somebody and that someone has some words of advice or a different way of looking at things.

I also apologise to anybody who may have been upset with anything I’ve written. I think that’s part of the reason that I’ve not posted here before. I worry in case something I say increases somebody else’s pain or upsets them any more than they already are. If that has been the case for someone reading this, I’m sending a virtual hug out to them.

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Dear Kittywitz
I am so sorry for your loss and the anxiety that you and your family are suffering.
I lost my wife in December 2024 suddenly to a heart attack, we had been married for 48 years. At first I ‘managed’ because there was so much to do, but as things got sorted out I had more time to brood and the grief got worse. Like me, I think you all probably feel that you should be able ‘to move on’. That is the benefit of this wonderful website because you find many people suffering the same doubts and anxieties as you are. There is no normal, you work at your own pace.
You all have love to give but nowhere to channel it. Could I suggest you send some love through this website because you will get it returned ten fold.
There are no easy answers. I talk to my wife every day and I believe she is still with me and looking after me. I always send her my love.
I’m told by widowed friends and relatives that you will always miss your lost love but you do learn to live with it. The process can’t be rushed just take it hour by hour, day by day.
Look after each other.

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Thank you RJay,

Thank you so much for your reply. This is such a wonderful community and I’ve seen so many people who, despite their own suffering, reach out and give others hope, advice, warmth and comfort. I hope that I will be able to offer the same in future but I feel so unsure of everything that I feel, I do worry that I might say the wrong thing. That isn’t new to me, it’s part of who I am, but when people’s emotions and lives are so vulnerable, it worries me more in case I make a mistake. I do think it will feel easier to reply to posts on here now that I’ve broken the ice myself a little though.

It sounds as though we’ve both followed a similar path, I imagine that many others will have too. Being on a sort of weakened auto-pilot at first because there’s so much that has to be done and then the emotions seeming to get harder to deal with once a lot of the ‘official’ things are dealt with.

I also feel Jim is still around, although I’m not sure whether that’s a spiritual sort of way or whether it’s simply because I’m so used to us always being together, at home or if we were out anywhere, that it just hasn’t sunk into a part of myself, so maybe I just still feel as if he’s here. I wouldn’t say that I can sense him about me, it’s more like I don’t feel his absence. Although obviously, I’m well aware that he isn’t actually here in person. I’m not in denial certainly but things are still very surreal a lot of the time.

There’s a strange contradiction because I feel blessed that we had a very short couple of days when we knew what was happening because it meant we could say ‘see you later’. (It’s a common term that’s used where we live as opposed to “bye” or “tarra” and the like. I’m glad because although we knew it was goodbye for now, it doesnt have the same finality to it.) So many people don’t have that opportunity and I couldn’t even begin to imagine how horrific it must be to be in that position. If I thought I was an emotional mess, I know I would be much worse if I hadn’t had a chance to be there and have that small amount of warning.

Yet at the same time, it was so difficult and although now it doesn’t feel as though it was long at all, those 48 hours or so were horrendous. Not just because we knew Jim was dying (at least he wasnt in any physical pain or discomfort) but helplessly witnessing the raw pain all of our daughters, two of their partners and Jim’s niece who had lost her father (his brother) not too long before (we were all with him 24 hours a day for the last 6 days) was just as difficult only in a different way. As a parent, there’s usually something you can do or say to try and help or ease anything your children are facing but of course it wasn’t something that you could “kiss it better” or stick a plaster on.

Jim was worried that we’d “be broken” individually and as a family by his death, but the whole situation has actually brought us closer together (and in some cases more tolerant of our differences as people). Over the past week, we have managed to get through the ‘6-month anniversary’ and also the first of his birthdays without him being here. That was another blessing - he never made a fuss about his birthdays. He used to tell us all off for giving him gifts or arranging to get together for it, saying it was “just another day”. But I think now that somewhere he’s happy to see that we’re remembering him in ways that he would appreciate but without doing anything that he wouldn’t approve of.

I wish you all the best with your own journey and thank you again for your heartfelt reply.

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Dear Kittywitz

I know you will find the words to give comfort and love on this website. Your family will also grow closer and stronger because the love has already started working.

God bless.

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Thank you RJay,
I’ll certainly try.

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Hi @Kittywitz
One of the really nice things about this site is the straightforward and heartfelt posts from people like you. We all have our own reaons for being here and we are all at different stages as we navigate the new world we are in.
When I lost my wife of 42 years on 22 April, it felt like everything had disappeared. Everything had changed. Of course it hasn’t. I am still me, my children are still as they always have been. My dog likewise. I still live in the same house. You know what I mean though.
I too have written a journal since Sue got out of hospital in February and I write a daily haiku, just telling her quite ordinary things. Today I have to collect her ashes, which will be strange. It is important to me that I never lose the sense of Sue being here and being in my life. I am sure you feel the same about your Jim.
For Sue’s funeral, I recorded a poem called ‘She is gone’, which ends with the words, smile, open your eyes, love and go on. That is what I think we have to try to do. I wish you and your family well on your journey. Take care and if you ever need a chat, I am here.

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Thank you Jim68.

Writing has always helped me to either make sense of things or put them into perspevtive. With Jim’s passing it is doing the latter. Maybe one day it will also help me to make sense of it all. Processing the situation has also, I believe, been greatly helped by being able to put things into words.

I have felt, and said for many years that the act of forming words and sentences or phrases out of the swirl of emotions that swim around in our hearts, minds and souls helps us to lessen the negative impact those feelings can have on us. (I also find it can cement positive memories and events, although there havent been an awful lot of those over the last few months.)

While I find it occupies my thoughts when I am really distressed, it doesn’t exactly reduce the depth of pain or sense of loss and emptiness but it does prevent me from feeling as though I’m actually drowning at that moment in time.

There is probably a scientific, psychological reasoning behind the phenomena but I’m not an expert on the workings of the mind. I just know that putting feelings and thoughts into writing unravels them and has helped me for many years now.

Your practise of Haiku writing sounds is such a good idea. I used to write poetry when I was much younger but it’s something I hadn’t done for a couple of decades until it came to putting together the Order of Service for Jim’s cremation. Even then, I hadn’t set out to write one, it just sort of ‘happened’ in a blank area of the page that I was making more factual notes on and I ended up deciding to ask for it to be included in the service.
Those last words of the poem that you wrote for your Sue’s funeral are lovely and I think she would really appreciate the sentiments in them.

The ability to speak about his feelings was something that Jim was only able to do in the few weeks before he died but once he realised he could speak openly to those he loved and tell them how much he did do, there was no stopping him. His ability to raise a smile from people when they least expected to be able to was incredible. He was also definitely one to battle through tough times, especially for the sake of others if he thought he could help them get through difficult times and continue. So, to me, those words you wrote feel as though they summed up his attitude towards life and I think other people might also feel that way, maybe for different reasons, but they really are lovely and very fitting.

I feel incredibly lucky to have a supportive and loving family around me (although it’s awful knowing how much they’re suffering too and feeling helpless as far as being able to offer anything to help them except love, a shoulder, ears and hugs).

Thanks for the offer of being there for a chat. The same offer goes out from me to you, should you want to.

I hope your journey eases and that the place in your heart for Sue becomes filled with more love and warmth than sadness.

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Thank you @Kittywitz . Jim’s ability to raise a smile struck a chord with me. Sue used to make everyone laugh in her hospice through her words, her random accents, her hugs and her smiles. She never really knew the power she had to make people feel better. God bless you and your Jim.

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Hi kittywitz. I have jut finished reading your post and I’m so so sorry for your loss and it’s fabulous that you’re talking to him, I wrote a letter to my partner c/o jesus in heaven and I poured my heart out in it. I’m confused at the end as before she went into a deep sleep she said they think it’s cancer then said I’m not ready to die and so calmly. She never came out of that sleep. 2 days later she was gone. My mental health was shot to pieces and I’m still under mental health nurses to this day, I don’t think my life will ever recover. And grief shows it horrible head. I’m getting more easier days and learning how to play the ukulele and re doing the front room. I really hope life really picks up for you and my love and blessings go to you and you will be included in my prayers. :pray::pray:

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Hi Kittywitz
I know just what you mean. I lost my husband during lockdown 5 years ago to prostate cancer. We had 43 years together and I still miss him so much.IWe had to say our goodbyes in the back of an ambulance and I wasn’t allowed to visit him in the Hospice until an hour before he died. I talked to him and held his hand until he went. It was horrendous not being able to say a proper goodbye.

You never “get over it” . It’s never far from your mind. I feel as though he has literally just gone for a while and we’ll take up where we left off one day. He was very psychic so I talk to him all the time.He knew what I was going to say before I said it so I ask him for help if I’ve lost something or worried about going somewhere or doing something. Nine times out of ten I get an answer somehow or another. The lost thing turns up in an odd place or I’ll ask him for help and everything goes smoothly. I have no doubt he is there for me all the time. I always say “good night, God bless, love you” and “good morning, how are you” to his photograph. It may sound silly but I know he’s listening.

I have found it’s best to keep busy. I sing in a choir, walk the dog or go for a coffee with dog walking friends, do pub quizes and go to folk concerts with my eldest son. It doesn’t fill the empty feeling but it does help.

My advice to you is, keep talking to your husband. He can hear you. Ask his opinion on things. Tell him you love him. He will be listening. Talk about him often and smile at the daft things he did and said. Make that special place in the garden for him. It all helps to ease the pain of finding yourself alone and having to do everything yourself.

Don’t apologise. I’m sure you haven’t upset anyone. We are all in the same situation. Sending you and yours a big hug too.xx

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Dear Gilly70
Thank you for your post about your husband still being with you and supporting you. I too have found this.
I lost my wife suddenly to a heart attack six months ago and almost from the day she died I felt she was with me. She even helped me choose the music for her funeral! I was trying to decide what to play and the following morning I woke up with a song going round and round in my head that I didn’t recognise. I googled the chorus and it turned out to be a ballad by her favourite artist. The next morning I got another tune that wouldn’t go away until I had checked it out which also turned out to be ballad by the same artist. Needless to say both songs were absolutely perfect for the occasion and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house. I also needed a poem for the funeral and she selected “Death Is Nothing At All” which again was perfect and I keep a printed copy of it next to me because it’s almost an instruction sheet for keeping in touch with her!
I talk to her all the time and, like you, she helps me find things.
Don’t laugh, but I have just renewed her magazine subscription because I like it being delivered once a month to keep her memory alive and I always liked doing the puzzles at the back of the magazine, so normality is maintained. She used to pass the magazine on to a friend and I still do that so it isn’t wasted.
Keeping busy does help to distract me from grief but I’m only six months in after 48 years of marriage, so sometimes I just can’t be bothered.

Thank you once again for your post.

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Dear Gilly70
I also meant to say how sorry I was to read about your loss and the appalling treatment you had to endure during the lockdown outrage. Life is hard enough when you loose your soulmate but those responsible for the petty unnecessary restrictions should be thoroughly ashamed.

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Hello Gilly, just to say I am very similar to yourself in that I also lost my dear husband to prostate cancer in March 24 . I had seen it all before because my own Dad had the same disease, so I knew what was coming.
I talk to him all the time. The house doesn’t feel empty because I feel as though he is with me all the time. I say good morning and tell him all about my day before I go to sleep . Like you , lost items turn up.
A couple of weeks ago I had an especially tearful day and felt very low. There was a knock at my door and three young girls were standing there and handed me a posy of garden flowers and said they just wanted to make someone’s day. As you can imagine I was taken aback. The timing was perfect. Coincidence or someone trying to help me ? I like to believe my husband, who was such a kind and loving man, sent the young girls to help me. I have no idea who they were , but I felt very comforted by their action.

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