My first post

I joined in July 2018, 3 months after my husband passed. I hope my reflection might help those who are in the early days of loss. I also had support from Sue Ryder’s Counselling service Feb/April. I’ll be forever grateful to Kevin, my Counsellor.

My first post in January 2019

This is my first response. I first started reading posts a few weeks after my husbands sudden death last March. I found it hard to read how difficult it was for many who like me were dealing with the loss of their loved one. The thought that this could be my reality for years made me focus on being very active and it has helped. I have come to realise we all deal with it in our own way. We have been given a life don’t want, but its a life we need to live as fully as we can. So I took on that challenge. Its not easy, I have so many wobbles, very heightened emotions at the ‘1st times’. I took time away from site but returned as I am now approaching the first anniversary and I now see people travelling a similar path and approach. I am approaching the most difficult time now, have had to seek counselling to help me, I know it will. I think you are so right Lyn, I think there is a point we allow healing and to be kind to ourselves during this time of adjusting to our new life.


What a good idea Sandra. I joined in May 2018 which was coming up to the first anniversary of David’s passing in June. I didn’t post straight away and like you, I’d been reading before joining. I think those recently bereaved are very brave posting on a forum so soon after their loss. They won’t realise that of course, but they are stronger than they think they are. Which brings me nicely to Pooh Bear:

You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem and smarter than you think.

Thank you Sandra. I’m going to look for my first post now.
Fondest love xx


This was my first post June 13th 2018:

Oh Sheila, how I understand. We become the most amazing actors, playing ourselves. One of the most difficult questions comes in a simple greeting “hi, how are you?” Or " hello, are you alright?"
Really? Do I tell them truthfully or do I put on another performance? The pain is physical, emotional and mental. My darling husband was here one minute and gone the next. No warning, a fit and healthy 65 year old. Like you Sheila, I cry. On the surface I look normal but inside I am screaming out for my man. It never goes away, nor do I want it to. At moments when I’m wallowing in self pity, I remind myself of a Pooh Bear quote ’ how lucky am I to have had something this good to lose?" Love and hugs to you


Crazy Kate, how true! We were truly lucky and blessed and I have to keep reminding myself of that. Malcolm was 73, the kindest most gentle man, the strong silent type and I always felt safe with him there, think that’s one of the hardest mits of all this. The acute pain and the feeling of being cast adrift into the unknown, a sea of loneliness.Hope you’re managing to cope with this new life.Sending love x

Thank you bjane, yes, I think I am managing to cope with this new life. We have to make it work for us. My grief and loss is a part of who I am now. My husband will always be the biggest part of me. I think SanW will relate to what I am trying to say. Like Sandra, I find being active helps. It’s a constant challenge and I have down days but they have definitely become less frequent. Having said that, I did have a couple of days last week when I was in a sad mood and the knot in the pit of my stomach returned. But that’s ok. It’s ok that we have such times. It wouldn’t seem right if we didn’t.
I’ve read some of your posts bjane and you’re doing ok, you really are. Be proud of yourself. :kissing_heart:


Hi Kate and San
I think I joined the early part of 2019 and I think we have all come a long way in the past months.
I too kept busy and almost had a burn out but I am sure it helped me and still does to do this.
My husband is and always will be a big part of my life also and I accept that this is how it will always be. This is my life from now on. I have stopped wishing for what could have been but now concentrating on putting one step in front of the other and taking up that challenge. Like you both I have those bad days when the tears come but I don’t mind either. I don’t really want to stop the tears now anyway why should I.
I hope we have been able to give a bit of help to those members who are in the first months when everything is so raw. The pain so intense and the words faith and hope seems to be non existent. We suffered just the same but we are still here to tell the tale.
And about Poo bear, what a wise fellow he is.
Pat xxxx


Thank you all, Crazy Kate , Pattidot and San, your posts have really helped and made me feel I’m normal after all, and they’ve given me hope that things will get better in time, hard to see through the fog at the moment. Especially today, it’s been one of the worst, I went into town on the bus on my own to the hairdressers and just had a meltdown seeing everyone walking around in couples holding hand and just being together.Them went into the supermarket for the first time since lockdown and automatically went to the vegetarian section for Malcolm, and saw all the things he liked. It just seemed to hit me, I’ll never shop or cook for him again and the tears wouldn’t stop, had to get home quickly for a massive sob. It felt like I was going backwards but thanks to your posts I realise this is going to
keep happenIng and normal. Thank you again. Sending love x


Hi Bjane. I think most of us can relate to what has happened to you.
I always thought I was a resilient person, capable of coping but I had exactly the same experiences as you. I wouldn’t drive the car for a couple of months, didn’t trust myself to not put it purposely into a tree. I cried on the bus, I had meltdowns in the supermarket. I was in B&Q and felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach and I bent over and screamed, fortunately it was early morning and no one around. The first time I got round the supermarket without crying I was pleased with myself and then a woman in front of me was having a conversation with her husband and asking him to meet her outside, just as Brian and I used to do. This set me off again. I had heart palpitations and headaches and just wanted to get home again each time. Don’t give in, is all I can say and ever so slowly you start to adapt.


Oh Pattidot that’s so reassuring, like you , I thought I was good at coping and couldn’t believe what was happening. Just like you said, I felt completely out of control, sick and a punched stomach feeling. If it hadn’t have been for you saying that
I don’t think I’d have the confidence to venture out again. All new strange territory , thank you so much xxx

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