It’s Saturday, late afternoon, early evening, and I’ve just been out for a quick wander round our garden for a minute or so. It’s quiet out at the moment, no birds twittering, no rabbits helping keep the grass at bay. The sun is shining. The conservatory and dining room are warm and bathed in sunlight. I used to love this time of year - the longer days, the bright welcoming weather, the way the better weather improves one’s outlook on life - or at least, I used to love it. I’ve wandered around inside our house - from the kitchen, to the hall, to the living room, back to the hall, halfway up the stairs to stand for a moment staring out our front window. Now I’m sat in the conservatory, where my wife would sit to have her cigarette, radio play distantly in the kitchen for company. And all the time, all I can think is “What is the point?”. I no longer have the most important and precious person - my wife, Nicki - in my life with me; I can no longer chat to her, or just spend quiet time in her company; or laugh with her, or just watch TV with her, or eat a meal with her. What’s the point in posessions when there is no longer someone to share them with? The pleasure of them comes from sharing them. What will I have for dinner tonight, I wonder? Probably frozen pizza again, plate on my knee, in the living room, staring blankly at the TV as I eat. What will I do later this evening? Sit in front of TV again, a nightly phone call to my 97 year old parents to reassure them I’m ok on my own - even though I’m not, not really; never will be, if I’m honest. Then on to my laptop, hoping there is a contact on Facebook commenting about something, anything, that I can hold on to. Lighting my nightly candle again for Nicki. Going to bed at 2am, talking to Nicki for half an hour, hoping that she can see and hear everything I say and do. Telling her I still miss her every minute of every day and how much I love her, and want to be with her. Then will probably drift off to sleep, eventually, wake up at 5:30am-ish, as seems to be my norm. Then with luck get back to sleep for another couple of hours. I don’t want to get up when getting-up time arrives. I want to shut my eyes and not be here. I hate the start of every long, lonely, tortuous day, knowing again that Nicki is no longer here with me. Eventually I’ll drag myself out of bed, have breakfast cereal, and off we go again, into another day. And just what am I going to do in this new day? Same as yesterday, probably. Not a lot. Can’t muster the energy, or the motivation. I just want it all to stop; for the ache in my heart to stop.
And so every day, every awful day, I wonder to myself, just what is the point now?
Hi @Bristles,
Yes, as you say, definitely two peas in a pod. Oddly enough, that’s a phrase I used to (and still do) use to describe my wife and I.
I just seem to spend all of my time wishing for time to pass, but at the same time, also not wanting it to pass, my mind is really just so mixed up.
And it is a consolation that at least one other person feels at least as bad as I do. I wouldn’t wish these feelings on anyone, no way, but just knowing that one person understands the depth of despair makes it not feel so wrong.
My GP wrote me a referral letter several months ago, and it included a list of medications and some associated comments. The one comment that stood out to me was “emotionally unstable”. And she’s right, I am. I have known it for decades, I find strong, uncontrollable emotions difficult to deal with, always have, I simply am not equipped to do so. And I never will be.
I know my day will come soon, probably due to a broken heart. I no longer fear death, not after losing my wife. Instead, I fear living.
I wish you some form of peace too, even though I know it’s unlikely either of us will ever achieve it.
Dear Alston56
You have described my life & I agree, I no longer fear death either. I wouldn’t do anything to hasten it, that would be a cruel thing to do to my family & friends. But if I get ill, I will refuse treatment & not allow anyone to even know I am ill. That is the only plan I have for the future.
I cant believe I am saying all this now, when I had one near normal day today with a garden visit from two dear friends who loved my husband dearly & we talked about him & laughed & cried. Both see the state I am in, even after 14 weeks & it scares them as they know they will face this one day. I can be myself totally with them, it helps that they knew him so well, for many years & loved him & his company & miss him so much.
They laughed at my stories of almost daily meltdowns, I had to tell it with humour as it sounds all so unreal that I could be so unlucky, getting lost twice, car1 breaking down, car2 breaking down, pigeon crap all over my car (roof down) inside & out, discovering house mice, fuses going, discovering huge hole in floor, dog being injured (minor cut but still upsetting) getting unbelievable quote for roof repairs. These are just life events but take on epic proportions of despair & hopelessness without my man there to take charge and extinguish the drama. I don’t know if the day will come when I can just deal with things that come up. It wasn’t that he wasn’t there to fix things for me - it that he just isn’t here at all. A white feather was carried past me by the wind when I visited his grave. I took that as a sign. If my man had seen it I know he would just say “bloody pigeons” - that thought made me smile.
Dear Alston56,
I also can relate so well, that awful loneliness that just overwhelms you, and the longing to see and hold our loved ones again. Today would be a day planning where we would go, maybe a nice walk in the countryside or by the sea, pub lunch, walking the dog. It was 5 months yesterday for me and it still seems unreal. Do you have any friends to support you, or family? I know words won’t take the pain away but I’m sure everyone reading yours will be feeling as you do, Take care Hugs.
@Alston56
What you have described is how I am feeling . Day after day this ache in the pit of my stomach the emptiness the loneliness . It’s 5 months for me and if anything it’s getting harder day by day to face what is now life. I hate it and don’t want it . Graham was my soulmate together for 37 years from me being 15 him 14 I do not know or want a life without him.
Thank you for your post it helps knowing others feel the same . Friends and family just expect me to get on with it now . They don’t know what it feels like to lose the other half of you thank goodness they don’t . I would not wish anyone to be walking in my shoes .
Take care x
That’s how I feel too just existing and getting through each day . Doesn’t get any easier infact the opposite 
@Maigret, I so agree, I asked my GP weeks ago to put a DNR on my medical record. And as for things breaking or going wrong, even the most insignificant of things becomes a monumental obstruction, and I certainly found I had absolutely no patience to try to rectify some of the very minor things that happened to me too within weeks of “the event”.
@Gentle5, it’s 40 weeks and 4 days for me and yes, I still struggle to believe and accept it too. The only family I have live 150 miles away, as do a couple of very close friends. I have a friend locally who tries to call round a couple of times a week, but apart from that, I’m on my own. My wife was disabled and had health issues, though nothing life-threatening, or so we thought. But she literally was my entire life, it was always just us, together, against the world. That’s why I feel her loss so hard. Thank you for the hugs, I so miss those too.
@Juli69, it’s so debilitating, isn’t it, sometimes it just makes you want to scream and it makes me feel permanently stressed out. Like you, I’m finding it harder as time passes too. To lose your soulmate Graham after 37 years is like having your heart ripped out, and nothing can ease that overpowering emptiness that remains.
It’s another sunny day here today again, just like yesterday, and the (other) thought that keeps going around in my head is “Nicki should be here with me enjoying this weather”.
I hate this life.
Dear Alston
What you described - along with others - is exactly how I feel. We go through the motions just to complete a day.
I thought perhaps I was alone in thinking about having DNR placed on my file. I was meant to go out for a social distance walk with a friend but it was cancelled (my part) but I had hinted at this to her while on the phone. I need my kids to understand why I have done this but only after the event so I need her to be the keeper of letters I intend to write to them both.
Twelve months ago I had a husband, a life, a retirement planned with wonderful adventures. I spend time each day wondering how this is now my existence.
Hi,
So sorry for your loss. Like you i am in the same boat,both my parents gone,my Mum in the August 2017,and my Dad in the August 2019,i have no choice but to carry on for my 14 year old son,there grandson. Such a Beautiful day,yet no family to enjoy it with,everyday the same since there passing’s. Sleep at nighttime brings relief from the pain of grieving. Hope you find some peace one day,wishing that for everyone who is on here in pain,wishing that for myself. Have cried a few times on and off today,but need to get a few chores done,so have pulled myself together. Wishing i had a magic wand to bring my Mum and Dad back,i’m only 38,yet feel too young to be in this position. Thoughts with you,Lucy,xxx
@Alston56 at is very similar circumstances to me. Graham had been unlucky on the health front 17 years ago he had a car accident which started a nightmare journey . He was on dialysis had a transplant which was not the miracle we had hoped for and 3 years ago things were really bad he was in hospital for 6 months and back on dialysis. I was his carer and 3 years ago he needed me there 24/7 . I had managed to work a few hours each week in my bank job which I’d had for 32 years but last year had to finish when he was no longer able to drive himself to dialysis. Yes he was poorly but I was not expecting him to die. He went into hospital and whilst an inpatient was exposed to a covid positive patient and both he and myself contracted covid. Graham had been shielding for months as we knew he was high risk. Just feel our last few years together have been robbed. We were together 24/7 he was my everything and now I just feel lost. So hard to accept and come to terms with and 5 months later I have not done either. I hate this life x
That is exactly how it feels my heart has been ripped out and I hate this life now. I’m trying to take one day at a time and not think too far ahead but have no motivation to carry on x
I know what you mean. My husband was only 50 and it was completely unexpected. We’d been together from being 16. I still can’t comprehend how my life can change beyond all recognition so quickly. Sending hugs
So sorry for your loss. It’s just so hard to accept I’m further on in this and still each morning I wake up remember and it hits me like a steam train all over again. I got too caught up in the early weeks worrying what my life would be like now as he had been there from being kids that’s not a future I’m ready to face so for now I work on getting through each day as the lonely future without him is too difficult to accept. Big hugs julie x
I just feel so heartbroken that we won’t have ‘our time’ together. We have focused on our kids and elderly parents and the next stage was meant to be focussing on us. Now it won’t happen. I feel sad for myself but I feel sad for him as well as he deserved to have time to relax more and enjoys things together.
Thank you for writing about your grief. It is the same for us all, whether we lose a wife or husband the pain and loneliness are felt equally.
I list my dear husband in February this year. We had been together for 44 years. I was told it takes time to adjust but the grieving for me is still raw and , like you, nothing can replace the emptiness I have, and no one can make me feel happy no matter how they try.
I do understand how you feel. It is so important to be honest when you are asked if you are coping.
My family brought me a large Teddy, which I call Mr Cuddles. He is the size of a small child, and I talk to him, and he sits in the chair, my husband use to sit on. I also cuddle him in bed, which gives me comfort. Just having something to hold has made a lot of difference.
I hope you can find comfort in something. It is the only way we survive, knowing we are loved. Good luck.x
what do you do to have the DNR put on your file, just tell the GP or something else? Do you have to wear something specific like a wristband or something? Im sorry that it’s come to this from the happy lives and dreams we shared with our partners…
And that all goes on out there still whilst our reality is completely shattered and lying in irretrievable bits around us… its just so hard to fathom.
reading this thread broke my heart; I too lost my love of my life on 3 March 2021. She was recovering well from a major illness in Dec 2020 but suddenly a blood vessel disease claimed her life. She was my first love and we met at 17. We were planning to retire aboard next year. Now all our dream is shattered and I am left in this crazy world all alone. I just can’t accept this cruel reality after 32 years together. The sorrow is 24/7 and there is no escape. The emptiness and loneliness are soooo unbearable. I wonder how can I go on without the woman I loved with all my heart.
It’s so, so heartbreaking - having no control of your life any more. We all make plans knowing they may have to alter and be adapted but we never dream that they will be blown out of the water with nothing but floating bits of wreckage. Will you still move abroad? Where would you go? Do you have friends and family where you are? I think, from what I’ve been told, that you are best off making any big decisions a couple of years down the line, although everyone is different. Sending hugs
they say grief is similar to fear in many ways; that’s so true: after she was gone, I have no confidence that I can stand the stress of moving aboard alone; so is my daughter: a week before she passed my daughter was enthusiastically planning to go to UK and study; the day after she lost her mother she said she didn’t want to go. I think we are both in shock and if possible I do want to avoid making big decision. But the situation in my home town is not very good and lots of people emigrate to other country now. My wife was the person who can always come up with good solution in times of crisis. Now without her I feel I am very vulnerable…
Vulnerable is how I feel. I was always very confident and did a lot independently but knowing that he was there as support if I needed it. Not having that back up is frightening. I keep being told that I will do things to make him proud and for my kids (young adults) but it’s really hard even then.