Dear @Greencat1950 / Herb,
No way are you intruding, my friend, it’s always helpful to hear how others in similar circumstances are coping. It’s so easy to feel as though we’re going mad when we’re held prisoner by our feelings and thoughts. I don’t mean that in a negative sense, only that it’s impossible to control those thoughts and feelings.
It’s all those little things that get us - I can only think of the things I’ll/we’ll never do again. So many things in the kitchen that my wife would use that I unlikely will. Like you, I can gaze at some of her items for a few seconds and suddenly the tears will just start to well up, seems to be happening more often too, not less. (Just started again now too while writing this). I recognise your need to talk about your wife too, it was such a strong feeling when my wife passed away that I wanted to scream it from a mountain top. My wife was born with a disability which affected her ability to walk and she had a tough life growing up too, but she was the most amazing person I have ever known, and had a strength of character I simply don’t possess. I just thank god it wasn’t her who was left on her own.
You’re right about the house too. Used to be a home, but no more, it’s just house of bricks and mortar, full of emptiness, if that makes sense. I find myself wandering from room to room, and into the conservatory where the sun has been shining the last couple of days, and all I can think is that my wife should have been here with me, enjoying these things. Possessions mean nothing to me now - the pleasure of them came from sharing them with my wife, and that pleasure has gone. Her clothes and personal items, her craft projects (which she spent hours and hours on stitching) are important to me, because they represent her. But they’re a double-edged sword, need to keep them but they can be sad reminders.
My wife and I don’t have children, my wife had virtually no relatives (she was adopted), and my only relatives are my 97 year old parents, brother (+4 years on me) and his two married daughters, all living 160 miles from me. I have a handful of friends, but only a couple of them living locally. I feel incredibly isolated because my wife was my life blood, my reason for living. I cannot imagine ever feeling any different from how I feel now, I have a huge feeling of living on borrowed time (for other reasons) and I really, really do not want to be here. Like you, the only person I want is my wife, and that, I cannot have. I just drift through each and every long, lonely day, hoping to join her soon.
Keep talking about your wife, Herb, it helps to keep her alive in your heart and mind.
Take care,
Alston