Thanks Sadie. These last weeks I couldn’t quite work out what it was I was feeling but you have said those words I have been searching for. ‘Lack of purpose’, that’s it.
We start off as a wife then a mother, we have our work (most of us). Our children leave home and our husband’s/wives become our life then they are taken from us and all purpose has gone. I keep busy with our allotments, I exercise, sometimes at the gym, love walking for hours with the dogs yet something is missing out of my life. Of course it’s Brian, and now there is nothing, just emptiness. I hope in time I can find something to fill that gap.
Dear Pat - I don’t think that we will fill our lives in place of our husbands, but from what I have read we learn to live with the void.
Next Monday is 1 year that Jack died . In the last few days I keep asking myself was I a good enough wife, did he know I loved him? Did he forgive me for the times I was difficult and impatient?
It feels so empty without him -
Me too everyone, this is so exhausting, grief is exactly that. Good days bad days, who knows what is coming next, but the one thing we do know, is our loved one has gone and there is nothing we can do to change that and its so hard. I couldnt look at a photo of Martin at the weekend, because it just made me so sad. I have spoken to his photos to ask why did he have to die, i dont want to be on my own, i just want him beside me like it was for 30 years. From the second he was diagnosed you start grieving a friend told me who had been through the same and I think she was right. You know that this life together is coming to an end and there is nothing you can do about it and this is not what you planned, that is what makes this so hard. I miss Martin everyday and i am still married to him I am not a widow. I noticed the other day that a colleague who has lost her hubby too, has removed her wedding & engagement ring and that really made me sad. It may just be her way of coping but I cannot do that, I took them off and looked at my hand and it looked so odd to me. I remembered our wonderful wedding day and smiled through the tears and put them back on…always and forever my darling Martin x
I know what you mean, Bernlea - I find it so hard to look at photos of Clive. Everyone tells me that I should remember the happy times buy all that does is make things worse because I know there will never be happy times again.
I too feel that I’m still married. I hate the W word - that’s not me, I’m Clive’s wife and always will be. My wedding ring is staying right on my finger where he put it. I haven’t taken it off since our wedding day and I never will. When we married we promised each other that it was for this life and all our lives to come. It’s just so hard, this waiting for my turn.
When he was diagnosed, he made me promise not to follow him while my parents were still alive. He knew that I would be gone like a shot if I had my way so he trapped me here because he knew that, once I give my word, I won’t break it.
I honestly feel that I’m just marking time until I’m free.
Bernie I agree with , I am not a widow - I am married to Jack - I truly believe that we are still connected.
Intersting that you said that the grieving started when he got his diagnosis- with us was different , maybe because everything was so quick - in 4 months - I didn’t have time to grieve - I knew it was serious, I knew Jack would die but I was making such an effort to keep him alive and well that didn’t grieve - my heart wouldn’t accept that that was the end I couldn’t think either because I couldn’t allow the thoughts of disparity and loss take my energy !
Hi Sadie, I think I handled Brian diagnosis the same as you. It was 2008 when the bombshell was dropped on us and I remember being devastated then determined. My Brian wasn’t going to leave me, no way. We went on the journey alone, with diet, exercise vitamins, herbs and it worked we had another ten years with Brian having a good quality of life and when the C started to attack his body I still wouldn’t give in, neither did he.
The GP visited one day towards the end and started to tell me how ill Brian was. I stopped him dead, I was having no doom and gloom in this house, we was staying positive I cried buckets when alone though, I knew what was coming but like you couldn’t accept that this was the end. I kept him at home and I was told I would never cope single handed but I did, because I knew it was what Brian wanted. Somewhere you find that strength. My life was looking after Brian single handed. I was proud of him and privileged to have him and like you I didn’t grieve in those final weeks just threw myself into caring for him. Even the day he died it didn’t register that the ten year battle was over it had become a part of our lives. Beating the odds until it beat us.
Yes, how I miss Brian and I tell him this everyday.
Pat, did you and Brian talked about death?i wished I had talked to Jack and I regret we didn’t talk about the end but at the time I couldn’t and I do regret it!
Sadie x
Hi All, yes my wedding is certainly staying put and my Brian is still and always will be my husband. Yesterday while looking through some papers I found a photo of our wedding day. We was stood on steps and my handsome, tall, husband had his arm around me. I remember it being such a happy day. Yet we had both been married twice before and neither of us wanted to get married again but nine months after meeting we ‘tied the knot’ yet again and we must have got it right this time as we had thirty years of happy marriage. So my ring is a symbol of my love for that man.
I have photographs of Brian all around the house. Sometimes I have ‘words’ with him and ask him how he could have left me like this if he really loved me. I hold him and tell him how much he’s still loved and adored. I do however find it hard to hear his voice. I have CD’s of him with the band singing and this really tests me. I accidently came across a video on the computer and he was talking to me while we was gardening. It completely freaked me. I have no idea why.
Take care all.
Hi Sadie, I am so sorry to hear that but we too had a short time span, diagnosed late January and Martin lost his fight 28th April. I was i believe in auto pilot and my every bit of energy went into arranging everything at home so that he could come home where he wanted to be. We did it together, everyday and through the night until later when Marie Curie helped 2 nights a week so i could get some rest. That was only for 2 weeks as Martin took a turn for the worse and had to go back to the hospice, which he had said he wanted at the end, as he wanted to make sure that his pain was managed and i am so glad we did that, as his pain levels took a lot of managing by very experienced nurses, something that would have been very difficult for the district nurses to deal with. The team at the hospice were astonished at how much pain relief Martin needed and 1 nurse said that she had never administered a particular drug in the 8 years that she had worked there, he did not want to die and fought right up to the end. It was the saddest time and i would not wish it on anyone. We are stronger than we think until they are gone and then it hits us…take care everyone xx
Hi Sadie, no Brian and I didn’t talk about death, I couldn’t talk about it as we was determined to stay positive. I do wonder now if Brian accepted it but didn’t want to upset me. The only thing that was said was Brian told me he would always love me and still be looking after me and asked me to take him on all my walks (both keen walkers) yet still I didn’t really take in that I was going to lose him.
I don’t think we will ever fill the void either. But hopefully we will begin to accept our life as it is now. A deep sadness seems to be locked inside me. I act and talk to people just fine now but I’m empty and still can’t trust myself to not break down at any time. This just isn’t me as I don’t usually show my feelings to others. I never cry in front of people but can feel my voice breaking. I think that’s why I rather like my own company most of the time. I keep busy and enjoy exercise. Interesting that you teach Yoga do you still do this as I couldn’t do Yoga or anything else at first it was impossible. I seem to be coping better now though. I rather like Yogalates, a mixture of Yoga and Pilates. I can recommend exercise, anything will do but it really does help.
We had six weeks between Clive going to see the Dr about a pain in his side and me losing him. I turned out he had metastasised liver cancer and there was nothing anyone could do.
It was 2 years ago yesterday that we were sat in the Oncologists office while she told us Clive had about 2 weeks to live. Two years ago this morning, he made me drive him around all the local funeral directors so he could choose which one he wanted me to use - he chose the one with a new fleet of Jaguars which was typical!
I couldn’t stay in work yesterday - somehow these anniversaries are worse the second time around than they were the first. I think, maybe, the permanence of his loss is becoming more real.
I’m back in work today, hopefully I make it through without crying. I’m usually pretty good at keeping the mask on at all times and only really allow myself to lose it when I get home, but these next few weeks are going to be terribly hard.
I can still hear the Oncologist explaining that he only had about 2 weeks left and I can remember looking at him thinking that it all had to be a mistake because he still looked healthy - he was over 6 feet and around 15 stone, surely Cancer patients looked drawn and ill?
Even on the evening that I lost him (I still can’t say the “D” word), I remember the doctor coming to the house and examining him. She pulled me out onto the landing and told me that his feet were cyanosed and there was no pulse in his ankle. I still didn’t get it! I asked her what she was going to do about it and she told me that there was nothing she could do and he would only live a couple more hours. She told me that he could still hear everything and that I had to be brave and positive, so I held him in my arms and told him over and over how much I loved him and reminisced about holidays and good times. He left me at 10 to 10 that evening - I felt him go. He slipped away quite quietly in the end, in my arms at home, which is what he wanted.
Now I’m left to try and pick up the pieces and I honestly don’t know if I can do it.
My dear Skywise - I can hear your pain , I can hear your sandbessand I wished I could say soneithat could make you feel better
I think we just have to embrace our grief and at the same time we try to create a new life - a little fe we didn’t want a life that will never be better than it was when our husbands were around
Skywise you will cope - we all will cope but we will also will grieve
I also can feel your pain, it’s so hard and cruel. I know exactly how you are feeling. I knew for years that Brian had C but he managed to keep well throughout, until the last year then it was getting him. I was still determined and positive. I hate it when Doctors start telling people how long they have to live. Brian was told it had spread too far for treatment in 2008 but we took his health into our own hands did it our way and he lived another ten years, two months…
I too held my husband on his last day, talking about our holidays that were always walking ones. I talked about the places we had been to. I told him how much I loved him. I kept him at home and cared for him single handed although we did have help with equipment from the local hospice. I sat by his bedside all night, massaging aromatherapy oils into him, sponging him down and then he just sighed and was gone. I felt a surge of relief go through me. He wasn’t in pain anymore and it showed on his peaceful face. it’s me that’s now in pain and I wonder if people can see that when they look at me although I try to conceal it. I even laugh and joke but I can also so easily cry a moment later.
We all share each others pain and it really does help.
Take care
Pat xxx
Sadie, it’s rained all day here. Can’t complain though as this week hasn’t been too bad with the rain coming later in the day. Was gardening on the allotment this week in tee-shirt or suntop, so warm. Today I’m fed up as I can’t do much outside and being outside is my saviour. Don’t think dogs are speaking to me as we all got soaked this morning. Haven’t heard a peep out of them since.
Love to you too.
Dear Pat, I am amazed by your strength - when Jack was approaching the end I was like a rabbit caught by the head lights! I was frozen - I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t cry , I was just there holding his hand - and I regret so much I reacted this way … I wished I had done like you… you are very brave
With love
Sadie xx
I’m just beginning down this dark dark road. It’s been one month since I tragically and suddenly lost my husband of 24 years. It’s a very raw wound that I can’t imagine will ever even begin to heal.
Dear Morr
I am so very sorry for you and me
Life won’t be the same never again
My dear Jack died 1 year ago and I wished I could tell you your grief will get better - I think what happens is that we just get used to manage the void and hurt
Hope your weekend is ok
Sadie x
I know that internal conversation. I have it every day. I have been keeping a journal to my husband. It’s been one month since I tragically lost him in a car wreck due to an impaired driver. I start every journal entry with I love you. I miss you. And then I pray I’m not left here on this earth too long without him.