It’s the little things....

Yes I have to admit speaking in the past tense is something I still struggle with. It is exactly 3 months today, almost to the minute actually. 

I still talk about my hubby as though he is still here and find I can’t always bring myself to say he ‘was’ or we ‘used to’. If I talk about thinks he likes I say ‘Clive loves...’. I feel like I’m being disloyal otherwise. 

Strange how our brains work. I guess I just still feel like he’s around xx

Good morning, 

Just another day, yesterday I had the melt down that had being brewing for days, I was very aware it could be anything that set it off as been there for days. So nothing major letter from bank that i didn't understand, an article in a mag that somebody had written about Rob.

What will today bring ? wonder !! None of the things I want, I want my old life back. The little things.

I have started "slightly" going back to work, more thinking than doing, until next week, I am self employed so picking and choosing what I return to. In the same way I decreased my work to nothing, when Rob was first ill, diagnosed, in hospital, when end of life care at home. 

I am doing ok, it's 7 weeks, life will never be the same again, I don't like the life I have got now, but need to go through this process and like everyone says take each day at a time.

Hope today brings everyone strength to do what we need to and be kind to ourselves.

Donna xx

Hello panic,

I had to reply,  your profile is is sad,yet heartwarming,  such beautiful words of what sound like an amazing loving family, and the love you all have, i lost my lovely husband last August we were married for 47 years,  to say im broken is an understatement.  But i found your post uplifting. And your ending words of your  post here. I wish you and your family well. 

Hey Bluebell53,

From one broken chook to another, I truly appreciate your response. At face value, the raw facts are sad but the intent behind it is anything but. I'm happy you found it uplifting - so do I.

In May, 2 months before Margaret passed, she prepared an SMS for me and scheduled it to be sent in September. Receiving that SMS in September was the greatest "shit my pants" moment I've ever had.

In the message, she said that she knew the end was coming and, while scared, was accepting of it. She said she had loved me from the moment we met and was so proud and so comforted by the way I had taken control of everything and cared for her.

She asked me to love our sons, daughters and grandchildren unconditionally and constantly.
She asked me to not turn into an angry old man.
She said it was OK to hate cancer but to love life.
She asked me to find another love in my life.
She said she wanted me to be happy.
She said she wanted me to be free.
She said she wanted me to be loved.

I read this message every day and do my utmost to honour her wishes.

Please, don't see the sadness - see the hope that she left for me.

Hang in there sweetheart.

Ewen 

Morning Panic

I have just been reading your profile and posts and I’m in tears. 
Thank you for sharing with us all. 
Im trying to live with the love Pete left me, it’s a struggle. 
Like others have said this has changed me, taken some of me away, as did the loss of my mum almost 12 years ago. 
I feel guilty that I don’t want this life when our loved ones didn’t have a choice and tried their best to live 

Evening Sausagedog1,

Only on these forums could I begin a reply with something like that. LOL

As I said earlier, please, don't see the sadness - see the hope that she left for me.

Please don't feel guilty. YOU didn't do this. It was cancer. F@#King cancer - not you. I'm certain you did everything humanly possible to support and comfort Pete and I'm equally certain he would have known it. Don't let yourself become another victim to cancer.

If you really are feeling guilty and, as you said "don't want this life" - reach out. It doesn't matter to who. Assuming you are in the UK (I'm Down Under) please contact Macmillan and look into what post-cancer counselling services are available to you. It's not a sign of weakness to seek help, it's a sign of the strength you have to know your own limitations.

We're all human and there's no shame in reaching your limits. Lord knows I found myself there numerous times.

Please, reach out and try and find some joy.

Peace
Ewen :-)

Thank you for replying 

One of my closest friends has just been diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer after doing a routine bowel screening that we have here when you get to 60 yrs. 

The tests, fears, loss of control etc have me reliving Pete’s experience all over again. I’m trying to be there for her but the feelings of hopelessness and helplessness are awful. 
It makes me angry that the screening will be too late for so many people 

I feel the same. And talking about me and I instead of we and us is painful too. 
Take care, sending hugs xx

Hi Donna 

I’m just reading through this thread and wanted to just say hi, send a hug. 
I woke to my Dr checking up on me. I’m going to see her next week (funeral this Friday) I’m likely going to get something to help me sleep. 
She is a lovely lady I’m lucky to have her as my GP. She did ask me, through my sobs if I’ve had any bad thoughts. Knowing exactly what she meant I answered honestly which is no ...but ...only because I have family & friends I couldn’t do that too. But I do wish I could go with him at this stage and just hoping those feelings will pass eventually. 

Ewen’s words are very true about remembering the love and feeling the hope and I am truly going to try but I never got an SMS from Dave or even a conversation about it all, it was all too quick and that’s my main stumbling block right now, it feels unfinished! 
I did get to tell him repeatedly I love him and he heard and said ‘love you too’ so I know I need to hold onto that but I have no idea how he truly felt about all that was happening, there was simply no time for us. I’m grateful the suffering, because he was in a lot of pain and confusion, didn’t go on and on but I do feel cheated somehow. 
I’m reaching out to all I can, this site, my GP, I’m down to hopefully start bereavement counselling in 6weeks or so but right now nothing takes this deep pain and massive loss away. 

I’m grateful to those on here sharing and my heart is with you all.

xx

Hi MyPineapple,

I just wanted to say to you that sometimes even if you have time these ‘final’ conversations never take place. My husband lived with his diagnosis of stage 4 stomach cancer for a year before he died. And although the doctors and consultants were all quite clear about the prognosis, my wonderful husband chose to ignore that and just keep hoping for miracle cure. He didn’t want to see the letters that came through the door and wanted to know as little about his progression as possible. As a result we never talked about him dying, any last wishes or anything like that. 

I knew more about how his illness was progressing and I just made sure I told him every day how much I loved him and showed it in any way I could. He did the same. After 23 years together we didn’t need to say anymore, I knew how he felt and I knew what he would want for me now, so I don’t have any regrets.

We had the chance to love and be loved by some amazing people, hopefully that will keep pushing us through the grief journey.

Sending hugs to you all xxx