It’s coming up to two years since I lost James. It doesn’t get any better, I miss him so much. I’ve spent most of this year on my own, even after having a major operation earlier this year. Two weeks after the op I was totally on my own and just had to get on with things. James would have looked after me and cared for me.
I don’t have any children and no one to share my loss or to keep me company on my bad grief days.
Sometimes I get so fed up I wonder whether it is worth carrying on. I just don’t enjoy things like I used to. I try really hard to do things but it’s not the same without my darling hubby by my side. Sometimes during the past few months I’ve spent days and whole weekends without having a face to face conversation with someone.
I know I must make an effort and get out and about, James would have wanted me to, but it’s horrible being a single older widow woman and it’s difficult to find friendly places to go to.
Susie8, I feel the same as you and am in a similiar situation. David died 17 months ago and it’s not getting any easier. I don’t have any children and David was my best friend. I can’t offer any advice. I can only say that you aren’t alone in how you feel.
I feel exactly the same as you Susie8 and I’m abit further on than you time wise. Nothing is the same any more, We are just not prepared for the loss of a loved one and all that it entails, cooking, shopping, conversations, outings and the the other countless interactions we had with them. I feel that I have withdrawn from life somewhat and find it easier than being asked pointless questions as are you over it now or the worst one, never mind you might meet someone else… Just wanted you to know that you are not on your own feeling as you do. Love Jenny.
I always thought I was somewhat prepared, but I was only partially prepared. There’s so much that comes at you at once, how can one really prepare for it? And, it’s like we’re in a secret club because many people don’t get it at all till it happens to them. I don’t think I really got it till it happened.
Losing my soulmate James, it’s like a roller coaster of emotions…I carry on as best I can but it’s difficult putting on a front and trying to do things like going into a cafe on my own, having to make big decisions without talking them through with James, not having his pragmatic view of things, not being able to have a laugh with him.
Widowhood is like a secret club, sometimes others who haven’t been in this position show very little compassion.
Thank you Jenny. I think I have withdrawn a bit socially …two years on and it might have been just yesterday that I lost James, the sadness and loss never gets better but I’m beginning to cope with social situations now without getting really anxious beforehand. I just make sure I avoid people who I find difficult and say stupid things that upset me.
Thank you lady Gardner
Everything you’ve said in your post I can relate to. I lost my husband to cancer in March this year. He was diagnosed in 2021 with bowel cancer. The prognosis was quite positive in the beginning but sadly the cancer spread to the lymph nodes and then the stomach. We knew the end was coming but as you said nothing prepares you for when it actually happens.
Like you I find it hard going into cafes on my own, making the important decisions on my own. The panic and anxiety I’m feeling seems to be getting worse.
I also agree that people who haven’t experienced this heartache have not got a clue💔
Take care xx
Susie, (and all the widows/widowers here) I am sorry your husband died. My husband died a year ago. I know the loss. We had no children. The truth of the matter is that no one understands unless they have been widowed themselves. It’s not their fault. We didn’t know either. Now, we do.
Widowhood is worse than the mafia; it’s a club you didn’t ask to join and you can’t resign from.
The awful other truth is that our entire lives changed in an instant. Everything. Changed. We are no longer a Mrs. to a Mr. We are no longer a couple. The life we had is gone and never coming back and the future we thought we would have will never be. It is a hard fact to accept. It seems surreal. It is.
We are now completely different people than before our husbands died. We didn’t lose our “other half”, we lost our “whole”. We now flounder between ‘what was’, and ‘what will be’ - located somewhere in the ‘what is’ reality we face.
We’ve lost touch with friends. Very few of my husband’s friends call.
Our weekly dinners with friends stopped. Concerts stopped. Movies stopped. Grocery shopping is sad. We now carry the responsibilities that were once shared. We have to make decisions without any input. We feel scared, alone in a giant world out there somewhere, everywhere. Everything, everywhere, all at once. But, the bad kind.
The only way through this is baby steps. First is to claim your life, claim your home, claim your blessings. Do you have a roof over your head? Food? Money for necessities? Is it because of the efforts of you and your husband, together? Are you able to walk without assistance? You are way ahead. Count those blessings.
You only have yourself to please so create the life that pleases you.
Other than having your life back with your husband, what life would please you?
You can’t have the first, but you have a chance at the second.
Every day, I thank God for sending my husband to me. He took very good care of me for as long as he could and without him, my life would have been dull and mundane. I am so grateful to have had 25 years with my husband. The best years of my life. I talk to my husband all the time and thank him for the life we had and the life I now have, safe and solid.
We married late in life. The funeral was on my 69th birthday. I wanted it so as it would be my last one with him.
It’s been hell and chaos, but I am coming out of it all. I’m not going to cafes alone, but I never did before I was married either.
I can go days without a conversation with anyone. No human contact whatsoever. It’s become peaceful. The first few months I couldn’t form words much less sentences. Words flew out of my head and I was sure I was getting dementia. Until I came to this forum.
Widow brain is a real thing. We all have PTSD. We got it when our world ended and we found ourselves lost in fog. You must allow yourself to be happy. You must allow yourself to laugh out loud. You must remove the things that bring sadness to you.
I am in a group and most of us purged our homes of things we didn’t want, need, use, like, multiples, our clothes. We put our houses back together, now knowing what we have and where it is. Big step.
Some are beginning to address our loved one’s clothes, some did the clothes immediately. Some aren’t ready. Another huge step.
Do you have a pet? Cats are fabulous animals and do well in the house. So calming with their liquid selves. Dogs need to be walked. But, when you walk your dog, people will smile at you and talk to you. You will smile back because for that second, you felt happy.
It builds up. Look for happy. Look for joy.
It is how we live with the loss. We make it happen. You can do this.
Yes, Ma’am, we can do this. Heck, you have been doing it 2 years and you survived. Now, maybe it is time to thrive a little. Fill your heart with the joy of others.
Go to church. Hear the messages. Pray in gratitude.
If you are overwhelmed with “stuff” to do, use my Rule of Fives. Do five things a day. Make the call, go to the grocer, change the bed sheets, decide on something. It is 35 things done in a week and 150 in a month. Five at a time. You can get everything done Five Minutes At A Time.
Your mind will clear when you claim your home. Repeat “my house” as you walk around. It is no longer a shared space. Make it yours. Move things around. Change the bedding, the towels, buy new glassware and dishes that make you happy even from a thrift store. Jettison the junk and clutter. Create the space that makes you happy.
The world is open to you. I am glad you were born and the world is a better place with you in it.
You’ve got this. I know you do.
Thank you for your kind thoughts and lovely reply. I am definitely going to try the 5 things a day to motivate myself.
Instead of looking at everything… especially the garden, greenhouse and all the things my beloved husband James used to do…and feeling totally overwhelmed and then binge watching TV so I don’t have to think about it…I shall tackle 5 things even if they are small tasks to try and get rid of the “mountain” of things that need doing.
I got myself a pet for company. I adopted Lucky a male black short hair cat from the RSPCA end of May. He is my cat companion, sleeps on my bed (even though he has his own cat bed), loves to play and I spoil him. He is so lovely, has a great purr and I am just so glad I could give him a new home.
There is hope, life without James is horrible, but I am now going to spend all the money we saved for our retirement together and God willing see new places, try out new things and try to get some enjoyment out of the remaining years of my life whilst remembering James x
I feel the same Susie8. It was two years last week that I lost my husband, too young and unexpectedly. Everyone thinks the anniversaries are hard and they are, but every day I miss him, miss just doing all the little things; cups of tea, silly jokes etc. however this two year mark really hit me hard, I felt so worn out at the weekend and just felt like at two years I should be feeling better but I don’t. Somehow the thought of him missing a whole type years of being with me and out boys breaks my heart. I still can’t quite believe it. At the moment I talk about him regularly when things come up but I wonder what happens after a few more years. How much of those things that come up now will be relevant still. The thought of him being such a distant memory is just too heartbreaking to contemplate. Just feeling it at the moment 