Replies to This Discussion

Permalink Reply by Joe H. on January 22, 2021 at 11:47am

Those are some interesting questions.  The simple answer for me is that I feel like a boat without a sail or rudder with a life preserver labeled titanic. Please forgive me if I offend anyone or trigger some dark feelings ... however, I know that I have seen my world turned upside-down and so many changes that I wasn’t really ready for, but had to take on.  Melanie [my wife] was into a lot of things – and she loved to have several big projects going at one time – and I was her worker bee.  She would tell me what needed to be done and together we would do it.  That applied to things like building a carport, installing a pool, to drawing patterns for her stain-glass pieces [she was quite the artisan].  She would get so completely immersed in her project that I would see to the daily running of the house and yard [fixing meals, feeding the dogs, cutting the grass, etc.] so she could focus her energies and talents without being interrupted.  Before she passed away – she had multiple big projects going on, and she would start another before finishing any of them [in hindsight, I see that was a red flag to the heart attack that took her that I should have notice, but didn’t].  I was left devastated by losing her and many of those projects are left unfinished – and I know that I am going to have to address them as best I can.  She was the confident one – the one so sure of herself and her decisions, yet I was the one that had to decide on doing what I knew she wanted in her condition at the hospital and what I and probably her family wanted.  I had to make that decision – and I did honour what I knew she wanted as hard as that was – and then I was alone.  I had to make the same sort-of decision with my mother only a year before on the very same date – that estranged me from my family [more or less] and I believe when Melanie passed that her family blamed me and I feel that I am estranged from them as well now.  I did what I knew my Melanie wanted – her wishes, and feel guilty and punished by silence from her family now.  I am still “lost” in trying to figure out “who I am” without her, because we had made many plans together after we retired – she retired and only had a year and two months before she passed away on the 30^th of October.  I was scheduled to retirement November 1, but I didn’t – no point to it, you know.  Those that loved her, worked with her so many years, and the world has seemly forgotten her for the most part – but my world stopped and I have to deal with everything by myself that she and I did together as a team.  I have no clue about who I am anymore – just some over-the-hill, worn-out vet trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.  Like I said [wrote]- I am angry at the world for just moving on – and leaving me behind, but it is what it is I guess.  Her son has even taken down a video we put on facebook that was a tribute to Melanie and her life - it seems that even he is moving on with his life and forgotten his mother.  I realize that sounds pessimistic and I am sorry it does, but it is how I feel about things.              

Permalink Reply by Nicky on February 8, 2021 at 4:10pm

My response is similar to the other comments. Diffult times

Permalink Reply by Gen on March 2, 2021 at 1:22am

Hi, I am in such a great place of loss and feeling lost; I feel like an orphan and the child in me is more pronounced then ever. I told my partner today that I wouldn't know what it would be like to lose her. I know the "focus on today, in the moment" affirmation and I remind myself of this. However, those dark places creep up like an MF@#! (sorry needed to say it like it feels) and it takes so much effort to remember this. I have taken on the role of mediator and caretaker because my brother can't or won't. I see the world right now as an enormous test. I pray for longer moments of peace in my torn soul. Yet, I am glad that I have this place to say this and be with all of you and feel hopeful if I keep talking to all of you. I wish the same for all in our grief. With warmth, Jen