Missed Him So So Much Yesterday

Hi Mel, 

It sometimes is the little things that pull at the heart and set all those emotions, feelings and thoughts back on the roller coaster. I know that feeling of not being able to cry and yet it comes out in other ways. 

Does it ever seem unbelievable we got this far on in time since they passed too?...

Sending love and best wishes xxx

Hi Mel,

Tomorrow it is 3 months to the day that I have lost my wife (She was only 42 and left behind 3 beautiful children) and I understand what you mean about little things setting you off. A couple of days a go I heard a noise at the front door and in my head I allowed myself to think it was my wife just coming come from work. This was the first I time in weeks where I almost set myself off again. Its normally songs on the radio I hear that make me sad, as I normally hear each word and think about them.

I have managed to move on (I think) and come through the grieving process really quickly, which makes my a little guilty at times. I have found someone on line who I have messaged and spoke to on the phone a lot (not even meet yet), but it has given my life some happiness and purpose again. Its strange that something as small as this has made such a difference. Last weekend I even had to go into the garage away from my fourteen year old daughter to talk to her, it was like I was a teenager again and I'm even getting butterfly's again.

I was asked a few days ago who my best friend is and I answered I didn't have one, it was then only yesterday it dawned on me that the reason I didn't have one, was because my wife was my best friend.

I hope you too manage to find the strength to allow someone just a foot into your life and give you purpose and allow you to smile again.

Take care, Neil

Oh, Mel, it's all the things we'll never be able to do again together; all those special, intimate moments that we shared; all those silly things we did together that sometimes blow our minds. I went to a park that we used to go to all the time and was also reminiscing about some of the sillier, playful things we did or said. It mde me laugh to myself but it's bitter-sweet, isn't it?

I, too, have built up a wall, kind of like a steel casing around my heart to protect myself. I know there's a danger in that but I'm so vulnerable right now. Over the last months I've met people I like - they're just friends, both men and women, but even so, I can feel myself putting up barriers, afraid of letting anybody come too close. My wall is different from yours, Mel. I cry easily enough when i'm alone and break down on rare occasions with people to whom I'm really close and who are comfortable with my grief. The rest of the time I pretend everything's just fine, that my husband never died.

All our losses are heart-breaking and I absolutely hate it but that doesn't change anything, does it. So, we plod on. The days pass, then the weeks and the months. Now, some of us are talking in years. How strange when they're still so uppermost in our minds and it feels like just yesterday that everything happened.

I met Gilles when I was about 25, almost 26, and it was like I'd been waiting for him all the time. For the first time I felt as though I really belonged.

It's me again. My previous post was sad but I wanted to share a silly story but didn't dare. You're all going to find it stupid and think it doesn't make sense but I can't stop smiling when I think about what happened. My husband had this terrible habit of bringing home little objects he found. Sometimes it was a child's bracelet or, comb or some worthless thing like a fridge magnet that was in the shape of a bunny-rabbit. He was really attached to this ridiculous rabbit, which was ever so tiny and insisted that because he found it out of the blue it would briing him luck. He didn't believe in a thing, no religion or anything, but had his own little superstitions. So, the rabbit became a part of our lives and also became one of those ongoing jokes especially when I threatened to get rid of it ever so often. Anyway, today in the park, I spent some time lying down on the grass and then noticed a thin piece of bright pink plastic next to me. I looked at it more carefully and it was cut out in the shape of a fish. I don't know if Gilles would have taken it and thought it was a new lucky charm but I did slip it into my bag… just in case.

Lovely little story Limbo, thanks for sharing.

My Sharon had lots of little idiosyncrasies which I used to love her for, it was all part of her character makeup that made her special. Memories to treasure.

Hi Limbo and all,

It's interesting with our walls isn't it? I think the reason why I have put up mine in such a way that, even when I am alone, I break down only very occasionally is because I am so afraid of these uncontrolable feelings, even though I know and have often enough experienced that when the wall comes down - like it did last Thursday - it is actually not too bad and, in all honesty, feels like a relief to be able to cry and let the grief, however painful it may be, come through to the surface.

But it's so true what you say about being so vulnerable now. I often think of this in terms of physical illments as well. I don't know how I would cope if I got sick now all of a sudden. How would I cop if I had to be in bed for a day or two when this is exactly what I have been avoiding and avoiding since Paul died because the last thing I want to do is to stop and be still. On the other hand, though, I can do that well when I go to bed at night but then I know that this is how it is meant to be.

As I am writing this I realise how controled my life is now, everything has to be "like this" and I would find it very difficult to adopt a different routine or viewpoint. It's what keeps me going I suppose is to just get on with it.

Like you said about belonging, when Paul and I met it was like we had been waiting for one another all our lives. We used to say that to each other quite a lot how much we had been waiting for each other all our lives.

Love, Mel.

Ah what a lovely story! And a pink fish right beside you in the grass? That's so lovely. I would have picked it up as well.

Hi Neil,

Thank you for your post and I know you mean well but I have to say - or no I don'rt have to say it but I want to - that I cannot imagine entering a relationship. Paul was my soulmate, my husband, my best friend, the person who completely got me. Now that he is no longer with me I am heart-broken and miss him every day. I have found a way to live with the loss, sometimes better and sometimes not so good, but I can live with it somehow. But I cannot and don't want to imagine an intimate relationship with another person. Not now and maybe never. But that's okay because more than being on my own for the rest of my life am I dreading entering into a relationship and knowing all along that nothing and noone can ever make me as happy as Paul made me. I said yes to Paul from the bottom of my heart, with every single cell of my being, and I cannot imagine how I could possibly say yes to anybody else, even though it may not be quite the same love and the person might be different.

But we are all different and if you feel happy with a new partner of course that's absolutely fine. I am just saying it wouldn't be for me at all.

Love, Mel.