So my darling husband Bob died in my arms on 17th January 2020. He battled for 9 months from cancer of the unknown primary but declined rapidly after Christmas. I know he died at home with me and we had rime to say everything we wanted to say but I keep having flashbacks of the hours leading up to his death which was not a quiet one. Had to wait until 10th feb for his funeral which was wonderful attended by over 140 people. I have now had to return to work for financial reasons as we had no mortgage protection or life insurance and he was only 64 and I am 59 so it’s all down to me now to manage and pay for the house which is scarey enough. I have been crying a lot at nights as that is the hardest time for me but last night was awful I spent most of the night watching phone videos I have of him just to listen to his voice and sobbed most of the night. I am really struggling to come to terms that I will never see him again and the future that we had planned has been taken from us. I have family and friends who are marvellous but they keep saying I’m a strong woman and doing well. Truth be told I’m not.
Anyone out there feeling the same
sheila
Yes, that's why these sites and grief groups exist. Our friends and family do help to keep us distracted and to keep us going but, for some reason, sharing with people who understand exactly what we're experiencing changes everything.
Your grief will change and take on different shapes, Sheilaj. As everyone else told you, the initial pain will wane. Does it get better? It depends on what we mean by better. It's true that after a while we no longer feel as though we were floundering and suffocating and there are certain things we can actually enjoy again. Of course, I'm speaking from a personal point of view and, fortunately, everyone's different and, so, some may start back appreciating life sooner than others.
Today marks 14 months for me. Where am I today? First, I am more and more comfortable with my own company and am actually quite jealous of my time with myself
. I realized something else about myself this week. I've become much more outspoken and tell people more readily what I think, whereas before, I kept things bottled up and swallowed the small injustices or annoyances. I still miss my husband desperately and can't bear to watch photos of him. There's one in particular of the two of us that makes me break down each time. I still don't cook. Bitter tears still flow - less than before but they're still there.
The positive in all this? As far as my life is concerned, there isn't really except that I see everyday the indelible mark Gilles has made on me. As I said in a post this week, I think, I haven't figured out who I am without him, but I do recognize the parts of me that were shaped by him. If nothing else, that's how he lives on.
So, what I'm trying to say, Sheilaj, is that grieving is complex: you'll mourn your husband and miss him sorely but there'll also be quite a bit of self-discovery and you, yourself, will change. I guess that's why it's called a journey. Our spouses' deaths mean not only their physical absence but a sort of self-alienation (I don't know how else to express it) and we now have to come into our own. For me, that's hard.
You're nowhere near there. Just cope as best you can, whatever that means. Judging from what we're all going though, we can deduce that human beings are resilient and, somehow, I don't really know how, we manage to pull through. You will, too, and we're all here, ready to lend a virtual shoulder for you to cry on.
I wish you lots of courage and I hope you'll be surrounded by all the love and support you need.
