I just wanted to say that you may have made a wise decision regarding the funeral home. Even if I’d had the chance I’m not sure I’d have gone. My best friend died many years ago, when we were in our 20s and I went to visit the funeral home. I’m not sure what I expected but I remember being shocked by how unlike herself she looked. She was a beautiful girl and for a long time after, when I thought of her, the image that came first to my mind was that view of her body. I regretted seeing her like that to be honest. I’d wanted to see my friend one last time but all that was there was her empty body.
Thanks again for your input, you’re very perceptive. You’re right, I do feel like I’ve got something to prove - though, I’m honestly not sure what?!
Does anyone else feel an awful restlessness? I find it very hard to be still (physically or mentally) and all but impossible to be calm. A bit like a dog who cant stop chasing its own tail
Reading your post and so many similarities to my own situation. I too lost my husband in 2020. We were together over 42 years and married approaching 39. He went out on his bike, called me at the lunch-time to say he had ventured for a longer ride than planned and that he would be home for tea. Me and our son tried calling him, never thinking that something bad had happened, we just wanted to say we were at his house with his baby. The police eventually answered his phone, explained he had been involved in an accident and was being air-lifted to hospital and they needed my location. They sent a patrol car and whisked me through traffic to the hospital and into the family room. After a while the office came back in, sat next to me and broke the news that he had not survived the crash.
Like you have said, I too bargained whilst in the back of the police car with God, I bargained in the family room saying that whatever condition I would look after him. All to no avail. I have recently come to realise why the words from people who state ’ just let us know if there is anything you need’ are pointless because the one thing we need has gone forever.
Our daughter lives down South so we had to break the news to her over the phone - stunned silence then heartbreak. The lockdown had meant she had not seen her dad for months. Our son’s eldest son was only 9 months at the time, with another baby on the way.
Our pain never lessens, the heartbreak is always there and the longing for that opportunity for one last goodbye remains at the forefront of my thoughts, because sleep still alludes me for the most part and when I do drift off I wake hoping it has all been a terrible dream.
Dear Sheila26,
How my heart goes out to you in your terrible loss. My husband was a cyclist - a track rider as well as taking part in road events and triathlons. My heart was never easy until he was safely back from training or from a race and I felt every bit of your pain as you described the dreadful moment of seeing the police offers and then the awful events that followed.
The shock, I think, never goes away and you just get used to managing without the one person with whom you lived your life.
In my case, there is no family, no focus or meaning left in my world. My husband was everything to me and I to him. We were together 60 years and married 58 so I understand very well your loss and despairing moments.
People ask if there is anything they can do for want of something to say because they can’t understand, wouldn’t be able to help with the silences and long, empty hours. Perhaps they can collect the odd item of shopping or post some letters but it is a drop in the ocean when everything that two of you accomplished together now has to be done by you alone.
Their loves have gone back to normal but ours have stopped. When my husband’s life ended, so did mine. My entire world vanished, unexpectedly and shockingly. in different circumstances but just as traumatic and I have been trying to piece together enough to stand on since 2020.
It has been worse since the end of lockdown. Everyone who said they would support me went back to normal living. People were kind enough to 'phone although they no longer visited. They told me all about the holidays they had booked, the parties they were planning and outings arranged. Sometimes they were kind enough to invite me.
It is impossible for them to understand that my world has stopped. I don’t drive so am dependent on others to get me to hospital appointments or to take me shopping. I don’t know whether this sounds ungrateful or churlish in some way but I long to be able to instigate something, not have my control limited to accepting or declining invitations.
There is nothing spontaneous in my life now. Before, although there were a few appointments on the calendar, our life was completely spontaneous. We could suddenly decide to assemble a simple picnic and go off to some beauty spot or even pack a bag and have for a little break, finding a B&B or hotel wherever we stopped.
People whose loves have gone back to normal have no idea that their duty 'phone call might be the only voice we hear in days - just a few minutes in 24, 48, or 72 hours. They have no idea how long it seems from teatime to bedtime when they is no-one with whom to share a chuckle or shout at the television in unison.
What I miss most with the loss of my soulmate, is having someone on my wavelength - someone who shares the same likes and dislikes. We married because we wanted to be together and shared the same values and standards. Now I feel as though I belong nowhere. I don’t fit in, in a world of couples and families. People are kind but I am on the periphery. Before, I was the centre of someone’s universe.
You have probably started doing what I do when people ask how you are. “Fine, thank you. How are you?” because there are no words to describe how you really are and would they really want to know? Let them be grateful that they can’t know and can’t even imagine.
God bless everyone here and help us all to cope.
No need to apologise. I am grateful for your reply. Please accept my apologies for the delay in replying.
My husband only took up the bike at 45, so everytime he went out I spent the hours worrying about him. He sometimes went abroad with his friends also and that was just days of constant stress. I did beg him frequently to give up the bike and told him that if anything were to happen to him I would not be able to cope. And I’m certainly not coping, suddenly thrown into a world that I don’t know how to function in. Probably like yourself, I have never lived alone until now. I went straight from my parents home to our home and Iived for my husband and the love and happiness that he brought me. I can understand that your life ended when you lost your husband and that’s how I feel despite having our kids. But now I just feel that I will be a burden to them in later life and I won’t let that happen.
I don’t think you are ungrateful or churlish in your desire to be in a position to instigate something yourself and regain some control. And similarly I understand your comments with regard to being spontaneous. On occasions during the summer me and husband would sometimes decide to get in the car and drive up the coast for walk and then supper. These are now just memories of those times. Although I do drive it is not something that I could do alone it would be too heartbreaking and also I can’t see myself walking around without him by my side as he had been for so many years. I went to the local shopping centre this week, early morning only to be greeted by couples the majority of which were the same age as myself and husband and I just froze in the middle of the shop - it was like a sledgehammer had hit me to remind me that there is only me, no husband to turn to for advice and reassurance. Like yourself and your husband, we were on the same wave-length and often without saying a word could look at each other and know what the other was thinking. I can’t have conversations with my children, their heads are stuck in mobile phones, they certainly don’t listen. I frequently come away realising that I am not important to anyone now, certainly no one can ever make me feel the way that my husband did. I often look across to where my husband would be seated and reach out my hand hoping that I can get some sense of his presence but there is nothing and the tears just flow.
Once again thank you for reading my post and understanding. xxxx
@Sheila26 and @prof so much of what you’ve shared resonates with me. When I read “realising that I’m not important to anyone now” it put into words exactly how I’ve been feeling. Don’t get me wrong, family is everything and I am grateful for the few members I have however, the fact remains that your parents have their own spouse, your siblings may have or will likely be looking and you raise your children to leave you. There is only one position in a family that you can choose who will occupy it. The only family member you get to pick is your spouse and they alone are meant to accompany you through life so closely. I miss being understood. I miss knowing someone so well and being known similarly. We too, existed on the same frequency and could communicate without words. We shared the same sense of humour. We were so finely tuned-in to each other’s needs that we’d often preempt them - often when working alongside each other, I’d raise my head to look for something and there it would be in his outstretched hand. And the whole interaction could happen without words because we could read each other. I could thank him and apologise for being so dozy and he’d tell me I was welcome and that he was happy to help all by tiny facial expressions. Silence was never awkward, it was harmonious. We worked together in complete synchronicity. I remember resurfacing a kitchen worktop for my Mum’s friend and she said “your so lucky, I’ve never had what you have” It really struck me because she had only witnessed us working together, not socialising or even speaking much. However, looking back, I realise that what she identified between us is one of the things I miss most - being so comfortable and utterly content in each other’s company. Now, far from being a duo, his significant other, I feel like a spare part and lonely in such a fundamental way.
Thank you for sharing & for hearing me:white_heart:
Loveliday, I relate to all you said, I do have two beautiful children, so precious to me, take after their father so much, both physically and also their personalities. They have inherited all of their dad’s cultural knowledge, wisdom, intelligence and this comforts me so much. I can see that when they make decisions they do exactly the same as their father did. I also have my parents who are in their 80s and we see each other often. I have my FIL too with his 2nd wife, they are both lovely people and help us in every way they can. But nothing can replace that special familiarity, intimacy, easiness that we had with our darling husbands. We all love each member of our families in a different way, it’s normal. My kids are the most precious to me, of course,they are a part of me, a part of their dad. But I miss that feeling of being ‘one person’ ‘one mind’, anticipating each other’s needs, literally reading each other’s minds. of course we’ve all had our ups and downs, who hasn’t?, but that special bond which had been created just couldn’t be broken, and now he’s gone, I’m still here, so what’s left? Why is it so hard not to feel so useless, disregarded, empty, my kids still need me, so do my parents, but I feel now that I am unable to be the mother/daughter I was before, I’m just not me anymore. It’s so hard to find the right words. I miss him so much, his touch, his voice, he was mine and I was his and this just shouldn’t have happened. All the girls in town were after him when we first met, never thought he’d choose me, I remember those envious eyes all over me when we were seen together. I cry my eyes out when I listen and play on the piano Roberta Flack’s song: “The first time ever I saw your face”. Just says it all. He was the best looking, best dressed charming gentleman I d ever met, and we fell in love. How can I possibly continue living without him?
My son and daughter still needed their dad too too, we created them together and I’m nothing without him.
Sorry if I went on a bit, it’s good to be able to share my thoughts with you all here, I feel like an alien at times, as if I’m the only one who has lost a partner but there are so many of you here in this group, you all have my deepest sympathy, know what devastation you’re all going through, I’d love to reach out to all of you and just cry on each other’s shoulders.
When I was younger and before I met Doug the phrase “my other-half” used to irk me and in my naivety I’d declare that it was sad that someone should need another person to feel whole! It wasn’t until I fell in love that i realised how back-to-front my “logic” really was. I was lucky enough to discover, first hand that when a well matched couple devote themselves to each other they become something else that is so much more than the sum of their parts.
Reading all what you are sharing I feel I’m not alone in feeling the same I will never be the same person I want to try and be kind and understanding towards people it is hard I feel angry that he was taken so early he was such a loving cari g helpful man he was a good husband and dad you realise just how amazing they are when they not here I miss him so very much as you all do so know how painful it is his not there to tell me he loves me no hugs no nothing I will always miss him people say I will get through this and be happy no I will not I too see there dad in my grown children they struggle also it’s hard do be strong for them when I’m with them I manage they think I’m doing well but nights hours alone that is real me we all here for each other I would help to have each other shoulders to cry on I agree when I see single people sitting alone I think I wonder if they are alone and need a chat it’s hard I feel like a alien out now day by day we tick along xx
I think the assumption of many people who are not in our shoes, think we will get through it, how wrong they are.
I miss the physical contact, a hug just holding hands. I miss being in the same room with the comfort of not even needing to talk just knowing he is there.
Like you all, I see him in our children, our son especially, in his mannerisms, the things he says. I love being with my family, but once home the loneliness sets in, the longing and yearning for a time past and very often tears. X X
I feel it too. When someone sees the dark patches under my eyes and tells me to “have a nice early night” they dont realise that, without Doug, I can’t even get comfortable. Theres no way for anyone who hasn’t experienced it to understand all thats been taken. I too feel like an alien. I live in a life that probably looks pretty similar from outside (just minus Doug) it’s only from inside that you understand how fundamentally damaged every aspect is. My life doesn’t fit me anymore
For all aching hearts on this forum, I think, “other half” really sums up our deepest need. It is to be complete again.
When reading all the posts, I feel so alone. I don’t envy anyone else because I wouldn’t swap what I had for anything but I have no children or other family nearby, all our old friends are dead and newer, younger ones, have their lives and grandchildren to engage their attention. I was with my husband for 60 years - the whole of my adult life. I have never lived alone and find that I really hate it.
We married because we had everything in common and wanted to be together so had no separate friends or interests . Our love was for one another. He was my world and I his. I am grateful to be able to do this one last thing for him, suffer as I do so that he is spared it. He had a recurring nightmare in which I was lost in a strange city or old country house. He would wander the streets or rooms searching and becoming ever more desperate until he woke up in a panic, the effects of which would last all day. Thank God his nightmare cannot come true but it has for me and I don’t know how to cope.
Because we have no family I am utterly alone in that there really is no-one upon whose life or plans I impinge. I am invited to join other people on occasions but it makes no difference to them whether or not I accept. This is my ache, deep inside: I really make no difference to anyone.
My psychiatrist told me that there is a whole me somewhere, entwined over a lifetime with the whole of someone else. She said I was so used to being part of that augmented “whole” that I felt that there is not enough left of what was once me to survive alone.
Apparently, there is. She said she was going to help me to find the broken pieces and fit them together again until I am complete enough to function. She also said something even more important. We are not leaving my husband behind. He is coming with us and all we have been and still are to one another will be my support as I learn to cope alone.
There is something in what she says and I can feel it but I still hate it. I still hate not mattering to another human soul. I can’t say this to anyone but the dear people on this forum. Friends would be hurt and couldn’t find it in themselves to examine what they really feel and acknowledge that, yes, when I’m gone, no hole will be left - at least only a temporary one, very quickly filled up with grandchildren, parties, holidays and redecorating. I might even crop up in conversations when old photos turn up but no-one’s life will change and I shall be in no-one’s heart on a daily basis.
We never agonised over our childless state, just accepted what was, as people did in those days. We were complete in one another and throughout our life together, whatever challenges and sorrows have come our way we have been able to cling together and say, “As long as we have each other.”
As our friends were widowed one by one and we did our best to support the survivor, we tried to put ourselves in their shoes, however frightening an exercise that was. If we took someone out on a picnic, shopping or an extended visit somewhere, if it was a lady, I always sat in the back seat with her so that she didn’t feel as though she was “extra” in some way. A man would sit on the passenger seat beside my husband and I sat in the back, again making sure that our guest was fully part of whatever we were doing and not a third person joining a couple. It probably didn’t work but how I wish people would do that for me. I hate sitting alone in the back seat, spare, invited along because they happen to be going. I have got into the habit of refusing outings of any kind because I feel so alone, more-so in company than just sitting at home.
Does all this sound weird? Ungrateful? It’s full of “hates”.
I hate being the last one up to bed
… the one setting the alarm when leaving the house
… the one putting out the bins
… ringing round to find tradesmen of all kinds
… deciding what to have for tea
… coming down to an empty, spotless kitchen every morning - This used to take me by surprise. I even liked seeing no crumbs or a sticky drip but now it has become tedious and upsetting.
I hate the total lack of spontaneity but also the complete inability to plan anything. My sight is poor so I cannot drive or use public transport (even if it was available in my village) so am dependent on the kindness of other people to help with shopping. My husband liked shopping and was good at it so I rarely went near a supermarket. This now overwhelms me and I become panicky and desperate to get out and home again.
I hate the fact that there is no-one on my wavelength. As so many of you say, the one who needs no explanation, no words, who just understands, is no longer there. I look across at his chair to catch the shared amusement or irritation during a television programme but the chair is empty.
Forgive me. I am very low today, my birthday last week, which few remembered and my husband’s anniversary this week, have brought me down I suppose.
I know how blessed I have been and don’t want to seem greedy but this loneliness, this longing to be whole again, is completely engulfing me at the moment.
God bless us all.
Oh @Prof I’m so sorry that things feel especially hard just now. I wish there was even some small thing I could do to lessen the load. Its true birthdays, anniversaries and once happy occasions seem to throw loss into even sharper focus.
You write so beautifully and eloquently and give voice to so many of my own feelings. I too am so glad to have a place where I can drop the facade and say exactly what I feel.
It’s interesting to hear your psychiatrist’s words and her faith that you can assemble a whole. Recently I’ve felt he must have been so much more than my other half when faced with the meager handful of scraps that remain. I dont think its greedy to want to be made whole again
I recognise that awful desperate panic that descended from nowhere to leave me paralyzed and exposed when trying to complete some every day task. Sadly the more often this happens, the less I want to engage with the world. I know that all our experiences of bereavement are different but, I think grieving through Covid was perhaps uniquely isolating
Like you, one thing for which I can be utterly and genuinely grateful is that he never had to suffer this pain
Oh Prof i wish I could help so hard being alone
Reading your message is so sad to know you do not have family around to help you through
Sending you hugs take care xx
I’m also experiencing ‘strange’ behavior from friends/neighbours. You can tell by the way they wave at you, can’t you? They don’t have to speak, you can see the odd, awkward, embarrassed expressions on their faces. In a way, I do understand that they just don’t know what to say I feel like suggesting them to just say to me: “I don’t know what you’re going through, because I haven’t been through it myself”. My darling husband was suddenly taken away from me on the first day of Covid lock down in Nov 2020, so people weren’t allowed to visit and only limited number in church. Yes, but even when restrictions were lifted, a couple of months later, nothing really changed. Many phone calls with promises to visit as soon as the pandemic eased off a little,but it was just an excuse. All this doesn’t really bother me, I just want my husband back, miss him terribly.
We hit a number of hardships in the years before my husband’s death but I remember hugging my husband after one such event telling him as you have said “as long as we have each other, that’s all that matters”. And now I don’t even have him.
You, me and others on this site who feel the same way are not greedy, we just wanted to continue to have what we already had.
I am so sorry that you do not have family around and that you had a birthday without any acknowledgement from others. I no longer celebrate birthdays, I can’t stand celebrations without my husband. Christmas is just something I do for our little grandsons, I ask for no cards or gifts. The only gift I want is my husband that is just an impossible wish.
@Prof last night I was lying in bed and thinking about what you wrote. It reminded me of something my parents said to me when I was in my teens that I’d all but forgotten. She said “if you’re really lucky there will be three people in your life whom you really matter to, I mean really matter… us and, if you’re lucky, your spouse” my teenage self baulked at this statement, declaring that my friends were like family but, many years on, I now understand what they were saying. It is only your spouse to whom your life truly matters: your “significant other”. It is painfully bewildering to have gone from being the most important person in the world (in the eyes of your spouse) to this. It’s a monumental shift and it happens all at once, in an instant.
It’s amazinghow drastically our perspective can colour our understanding. As I’ve shared before, I intensely disliked the term “my other half” because even though I thought the meaning was simple, I genuinely couldn’t appreciate what it really meant until I’d found mine. At the moment, in my mind “learning to live again” is synonymous with learning to manage an essentially pointless existence but, I’m not closed to the idea that my current perspective could be clouding my view, in fact I’m banking on it.
For example surely a person who loses a limb feels inherently damaged, and irreparably so yet, in time some have gone on to become paralympians. I appreciate that’s a specific personality type but my point is that things can change, in fact they will change. As my darling husband used to say “the nature of the universe is change” or sometimes just “this too shall pass”
I’m glad that you have found the strength to come to your decision. It is hard but we all have to move on and try to enjoy our lives. Our loved ones wouldn’t want it any different.
Keep your chin up and look for all the amazing things in your life.
Dear prof.
I re read your post this morning and wanted to ask how you are today.
I agree that after spending practically all our adult lives with someone, learning about life with that person - it’s a totally new ball game to know how to cope as “one” again. Do I have the strength or willingness to find the “new me”?
Take care.
G xx
Thank you for sharing & for hearing me:white_heart: