Hello @Heartbroken12,
I am so very sorry that your beloved has died - it is so hard, so brutal, I know.
I read your post and so much of what you describe, and how you feel, I felt exactly, three years ago when my husband Tom died after a long and painful decline thanks to cancer.
I too, felt I had died with him. We didn’t have children either, so I know that deep emptiness and silence only too well. I staggered along, blasted with loneliness and loss - carried along by grief - gasping for air and missing him so much I begged him to come home each night - pleading into the darkness as I lay in the bed we had once shared.
Those early days I crawled, my friend. I inched along, battling through the admin and all manner of other disasters. Alone.
Slowly, as the days, weeks, then months and years went by, I got stronger. I stood up. I walked forward. I am now over three years in and the immediate pain and loss do recede but - here’s hope - the love remains, the deep love we shared has not receded, has not gone.
Today, I am in our home high in the mountains. Our bed here finally gave out and I had to replace it. Grief came calling for me as I made the arrangements, ordered the new one, got help to come and collapse the old bed ( big, metal frame, heavy, etc). When the bits of the old bed came apart, there on the frame was Tom’s surname, painted on, in his handwriting. Sucker punch, right? Whoa. Winded.
But, the new bed arrived, is gorgeous, is all made up with fresh new linen and is so tall and enormous I will need steps to climb in. It’s good. It’s right. It’s all part of the movement forward we have to take because we are still here. We can do happy and sad at the same time. I promise you, it will be ok and you are walking towards here, slowly but steadily.
Rev Richard Coles has a great expression for describing how he felt after his husband died. When people enquired “how are you?”, he said “I’m vertical and facing forward” - which is all we can hope for. I found it handy. Maybe you will, too.
My friend, while it may not seem it right now - it will get easier. It will get better. You will walk again. You will run again. You will feel the sun on your face and not feel bad.
This has been a long old post - but I wanted to try and explain how we can move forward, beyond the worst while holding on to the best. And grief will be a companion, yes, but in time you will be accustomed to its ways and means. Ultimately for me, it has been a source of strength.
Hold tight, hang on, today will pass. The long weekend will go through ok. Just love yourself, ok? Give yourself permission and eat a big Easter egg. Or have a glass of wine or whatever helps you.
You have a whole community of friends on here now who are with you and who understand it all. You will find us when you need us.
Take care, your friend on this long road,
Vancouver