mittam99

Me too, but it's not our age. I can't imagine anyone, whether they are 19 or 99, getting over the loss of their soul mate. Frankly, (and yes I'm making a blanket statement) it seems to me, if someone does "get over" the loss of their partner/spouse, that person couldn't have truly been their soul mate. That just doesn't seem possible. Out of all those grief phrases we hear... "they're in a better place", " time heals all wounds", etc... hearing someone tell us we should "be over" our loss by a certain point is the most ridiculous/thoughtless/irritating statement of all.

I'm not sure if this quote belongs here but it does show the importance of a hug...

Steven, grief does change us but there is one important fact we can't overlook... We were also forever changed in a good way when our beloved soul mate came into our lives. In my case, I was loved and gave love like I never did before. Tammy taught me the meaning of courage by the example she set everyday. She made me a different and better version of Mitch. The outside world may view us as a widow/widower or as a "me" and no longer a "we", but in my world Tammy will always be my wife. She will always be a part of the Mitch and Tammy team. I may be sadder, I may bemoan this new life and the loneliness and emptiness of it, but, I also know I was truly blessed when my darling Tammy walked into my life. She may be gone physically but her influence and her love will be with me forever.

Marg, I have to agree with George on this. I remember when you first joined us. I was so worried about that "wordy" Southern lady that had just lost her Billy. You were beyond devastated. I felt despair in everything you wrote. Now, I see a woman with tremendous strength and an abundance of courage. You didn't crawl up in a ball. You've accomplished quite a bit already in your journey. You may not even realize your progress but it's tangible. That old boy Billy would be proud.

This is sort of off-topic (slightly grief related)... I've been noticing something curious recently. I was watching some episodes of The Beverly Hillbillies the other day, and it struck me as odd that Granny didn't look as old as I remembered her. I've been noticing that more and more. People seem to be looking younger or maybe grief has sped up my aging and I'm rapidly looking older!

Finances... that's another one of those things rarely discussed here but still an issue that affects many of us in grief. As Marg said, some are better off than others. Tammy and I didn't have high paying jobs. We lived paycheck to paycheck. Often, we'd have to choose between food or something "extra" like how many of Katie's school pictures we could afford. When Tammy's health worsened and I needed to start buying mega expensive wound care supplies for home, we were pretty much broke. We bought a product called Aquacel AG that was over $100 for just one 8 inch pad. We bought special ($60+ for a small jar) manuka honey from New Zealand because it was supposed to have anti-MRSA properties. We had better wound care supplies than some of our local hospitals! Between the stress of Tammy's failing health, and the stress of not knowing if we could pay bills, life was tough. What got us by was our love of each other. If love counted as money we would have been trillionaires! Fast forward to my life of grieving... Tammy had an insurance policy but unfortunately it lapsed and she lost all that she had paid in. I'm living on a part time job and a small amount (4 checks a year) I get from Social Security survivors benefits. I basically make enough to pay my bills but if something major needs fixing or replacing, I'm pretty much screwed. I plan on working 'til I'm 66 and then collecting my social security, but, my benefit isn't much. It's very scary, wondering if I'll be able to afford things in the future. And it sucks not having Tammy here to talk about things. Well, I do talk to her from time to time but she doesn't respond back (must be one of those rules of heaven). Worrying about money is just an added stress that makes an already stressful and sad life that much harder. As hard as this life of grief is, we all need to pat ourselves on the back for just getting out of bed in the morning.

For a long time, I was exercising and eating healthy and it made a difference. Now I'm not. I'm dealing with some physical problems that are limiting me and it's definitely affecting my emotions, which in turn, affects my grief healing Dealing with the emotional pain of losing Tammy is so much harder when you're also in physical pain. At least I know why I've had a setback and I'm going to do my best to get back to the positives.

Marg, I don't "feel" Tammy's presence, either. For me, there are two things that relate though, and they have helped me in this journey. Not that I'm in a good place right now (I'm not) but I can only imagine where I'd be otherwise. For one, there have been events that defie logic that I feel can only be explained as my angel Tammy watching out for me. The other thing that helps me go on is the fact that Tammy still lives in me. Not just the memories but I often find myself thinking like Tammy would. I'm Mitch with a whole lot of Tammy inside and that's a very good thing and gives me a certain measure of comfort and hope. Still, my life sucks these days and it's hard to imagine real happiness ever entering my world again. I'm open to it, but the possibility seems rather remote. For now, it's just a day at a time of biding my time until I figure what the hell my purpose actually is. I know there is more to life than what I'm doing. Seems like I've been in a funk since my birthday (May 10th) and next week is Tammy's birthday (June 10th) so I expect that to be rough. Part of the problem may be the fact I haven't been able to exercise regularly like I was, due to some physical ailments. I'm also not watching what I eat like I was. Basically, I'm not taking care of myself properly. Hopefully, this is just one of those two steps back phases and I can get back on a positive track.

Marg, I'll tell you what... At this point many of us would welcome the occasional crumb or two of happiness. A sliver would be sublime. A slice would be unimaginably decadent.

Gin, this is what I think happens... When our beloved dies, we feel like life has ended. We can't fathom living in a world where half of us is missing. The half that makes us feel loved and makes us feel like life has meaning. It's natural to doubt that we can go on in this life alone. And I'm sure we all having passing thoughts of the idea of joining our soul mate in heaven. But, I don't think that's the answer. Life is too much of a gift to just throw it away no matter how bleak and dark and dismal it all seems. So we trudge along, taking life day to day and hoping we see some lightness in our grief. It's hard. We all struggle with whether or not we really want to be here on not. That's normal. I don't think it's us wanting to die as much as it is us wanting to be with our partner again. For me, having Tammy in my heart and soul, having her love inside me and knowing that she made me a better person, helps me get by. In that sense, Tammy will live on as long as I do. She and I will always be as one in this life. And when the time comes, my hope is we will be reunited once again in a better place, free of pain and filled with love. Hope things get better for you Gin. I know today is a very hard one. Hugs.

Marg, I hear you on the whistling. Tammy said the same thing as your Billy. When I whistled, she said she knew I was a happy camper. Nowadays, on the rare occasion I catch myself whistling, I feel guilty and stop.

Very good news about Butch. Thanks for the update, Kay. Tell him not to worry about rushing back to the forum. He needs to take care of himself and get back his strength.

George, I completely understand that fear. With Tammy's history of unfathomable medical issues, that was a fear of mine too. I'd leave for work in the morning after making Tammy breakfast. I'd leave her something to drink and some snack stuff and off I'd go to work. I'd be thinking about her my entire shift at work. The second I'd come in the house, I literally listened to see if I could hear snoring. If I didn't, I'd run upstairs to make sure she was OK. We didn't talk about death. That was because of me. It's always been a subject that's difficult for me to handle. I think it started with the death of a cousin of mine who died of cancer as a teenager. Then my grandfather's suicide. My dad dying of leukemia at 55. My beloved mom (I was her caregiver for a few years) dying of cancer. It overwhelms me. Getting back to this hindsight thing... I guess I like to think I'm in control. And in most situations I feel I am. There's a part of me that says I was Tammy's knight in shining armor and her "protector". She wasn't supposed to die "on my watch". I have to learn to realize that not everything is in my control. That sometimes things happen and you honestly have zero control over the outcome. But... when the event you're thinking about is the death of the only person in the world that loved you unconditionally, your mind looks for answers. Why did this happen? Who is to blame? What could have been done differently? And the answer is.. there is no definitive answer. Some events happen and no matter what actions you do or don't take, that event may still happen. Yes, I am blessed to have had Tammy in my life. Honored and so lucky that she accepted me as her husband. Blessed to have shared a love story for the ages with her. It's just that life is so freakin' hard without her by my side.

I guess you can say I am someone who tends to overthink things. I often will second guess myself or question whether I did something the right or wrong way. And that isn't necessarily a bad thing. For example, I might have made a food dish for the first time and it didn't turn out as expected. I'll think of ways I can make it differently (better) the next time. That, to me, is a positive thing. But, this thread isn't about cooking, it's about how hindsight makes my grief journey so difficult. And maybe hindsight is affecting your journey as well. I want to talk about one specific thing that seems to haunt me. I have quite a few things where I question myself over and over but this one moment and my thoughts about it stagger me. On the day Tammy died, a day that started with great hope, I often wonder if Tammy actually passed away twice. Once in a gentle way and once in an awful and traumatic way. And I wonder if I was to blame. On the afternoon of Tammy's death, she was extremely tired. She also seemed a bit confused. I thought maybe it was her new narcotic pain pill and after a call to my doctor brother-in-law and Tammy's mom, they both agreed. From that moment on, I began to wonder if Tammy was "OK". You have to understand that with Tammy's lupus and other issues she was always tired. And since she had come home from rehab, two nights before, she was very tired, trying to regain her strength after another prolonged illness/hospital stay. Fatigue was normal for her. It's the next thing that happened and my action that has my mind in torture. I was working on setting up some exercise equipment for Tammy and walked into our bedroom to check on her. What I saw bewildered and scared the hell out of me. There was Tammy, sitting on the edge of the bed as if she was getting up to go to the bathroom. And slowly, almost in slow motion, she fell backwards (gently) into bed. I've never seen anything like it. Did she just faint? Is it something worse? I cried out her name over and over and held her in my arms. And then, her eyes opened and she just said how tired she was. I was relieved beyond belief, but still shaking. Tammy put her head on the pillow and went back to sleep. Now, here's where hindsight comes in and works it's torture... Looking back on that moment, I now wonder if Tammy may have actually been passing away right there on the bed. When she heard my voice, did it kind of bring her back? Her love for me and her desire to live being so great. A couple hours later, she couldn't catch her breath and was being rushed into the ambulance, vital signs failing and ultimately that guy violently pounding on her chest to no avail. She was unresponsive and gone before she made it to the hospital. Hindsight has me thinking maybe I did the wrong thing when I saw Tammy "falling back" in bed. What if I didn't call out her name to "wake" her? Wouldn't she have gotten the "gentle into the night" passing she deserved? But, there was no way I wasn't going to call out her name over and over to make sure she was OK. That was my wife, my life and one of the most wonderful human beings the world has known right there. I had no choice. But hindsight happens after the fact and has you seeing things with a different set of knowledge in your head. I know realistically that Tammy's health had been ravaged over the years with health scares and traumatic health events that many wouldn't even have lived through. She survived a cardiac arrest, multiple sepsis events, kidney failure, multiple life threatening infections, many many surgeries, MRSA, cellulitis, e-coli, on and on. She has severe systemic Lupus, Raynaud's and Sjogren's. She had high blood pressure. Her heart lost some of its functioning after her cardiac arrest. She was on steroids for over 20 years. She had many instances where she would just collapse and faint for no apparent reason. She would hemhorrage spontaneously. Many doctors called her the most "complicated" patient they have ever seen. Others called her a medical miracle. That she survived through all that is a testament to her courage and her incredible will to live and love of life. I'd also like to think that my love pulled her through many of the horrific events we faced together. People tell me I was a wonderful, devoted, amazing husband. They tell me how Tammy would constantly brag about me when she spoke to them. And I know that is the truth. But my sweet Tammy, the most wonderful girl in the world, the girl with the gentle, loving, kind soul isn't alive anymore, but I am. And hindsight has me questioning and pondering everything I did or didn't do. The one thing I do know is that I always loved Tammy and always will. She enriched my life and I will always live with her and her love inside of me, a changed man. A better man.

Well, I put those new lamp shades on today and the room is quite a bit brighter. It's so weird how something like this can upset you but such is grief. I'm so mad at myself for not doing this a few years ago. Tammy always said it wasn't bright enough, so I'd buy higher wattage bulbs. Now, I know I should have replaced the shades instead. I feel so stupid and so guilty. A brighter room would have made Tammy happier and I didn't come through. I feel horrible. I also took down the caricature of Tammy's late dad that Tammy had taped to the side of her lamp. Again, it felt weird doing that. Last time I took it down I wound up putting it back up. I mean, if Tammy is here in some way will she be upset I took it down? Grief has me so sad, confused, and often, discombobulated.

Kay, I removed the cat "joke". I only found out about Miss Mocha after I posted it. So sorry.

Ana, that in itself sounds hopeful. Also, your point about putting on the happy face for job interviews makes a ton of sense. That had to be emotionally draining for you and as you said left you wallowing afterwards. Here's hoping tomorrow isn't just different; here's hoping it's better.

Ana, I hope what I'm going to ask isn't too personal or too out of line... and I'm asking because I'm worried about you. You are clearly hurting immensely and there is such a sense of complete and utter hopelessness from your recent posts. It sounds like at this point, no one has the words to help in any way, shape or form. I'm scared that you might fall into a downward cycle of complete despair. Have you talked to anyone about anti-depressants or something of that nature? I'm not saying that's the answer by any means, just a thought. I apologize if this was too personal, it's just that I'm very concerned. I wish I had the magic answer to give you some hope.

Kay, terribly sorry to hear about this. I missed this topic because I'm usually hanging out at the Spouse forum. I know how much you love your animals and I wish you comfort and some sense of peace in the coming days. Years ago, my sister was visiting someone and brought her dog along. She opened the car door and the dog sprinted into the nearby woods and was never seen again. What's hard about a loss like this is the wondering what happened. Again, I am so sorry you've lost your Miss Mocha.

You're definitely not being a "baby about it", Gin. Everything in this new life is harder and something like this can be downright scary. Wishing you the best of luck tomorrow.

Random silly thoughts... A bartender is just a pharmacist with a limited inventory. A committee is a life form with six or more legs and no brain. A conclusion is the place where you got tired of thinking. Animal testing is futile! The animals always get nervous and give the wrong answers! By the time I realized my parents were right, I had kids that didn't believe me. Consider the following: The ark was built by amateurs, the Titanic was built by professionals. Cynics are people who know the price of everything, but the value of nothing. Don't call us "gun nuts"! With a government like ours, we'd be nuts not to have guns! Everyday I beat my own previous record for number of consecutive days I've stayed alive. Have you ever noticed how nothing is impossible for those who don't have to do it? How come we choose from just two people to run for president and 50 for Miss America? I'd tell you to go to Hell, but I work there and I don't want to have to see you everyday I always take life with a grain of salt, ...plus a slice of lemon, ...and a shot of tequila. If you always take time to stop and smell the roses - sooner or later, you'll inhale a bee. Isn't having a smoking section in a restaurant like having a peeing section in a swimming pool? It is now beyond any doubt that cigarettes are the biggest cause of statistics. It will be a great day when education is paid for and we see the military holding a bake sale to raise funds. Never get into an argument with the schizophrenic person and say, "Just who do you think you are?" Politicians and diapers have one thing in common. They should both be changed regularly, and for the same reason. Sign In Pet Store: "Buy one dog, get one flea... Why do Scotsmen wear kilts? It's easier to run with your kilt up than your pants down! Why is it that most nudists are people you don't want to see naked? Why is the alphabet in that order? Is it because of that song?

George, thank you for posting that video. ------------- Why do I feel guilty about so many things? Maybe it's because I tend to be a perfectionist and want everything to be just right. I wanted to be the best husband I could be. And I loved Tammy with everything I had. Still, I always think about what I should've/could've done better. Tammy deserved no less and it hurts to think I wasn't always 100% unselfish, for example. Most will look at me as a pretty darn good husband, and I know I was, yet, did any of my words or actions over the years shorten Tammy's life somehow? On the other hand, people tell me that the way I cared for and loved Tammy probably prolonged her life. It just plays on my mind because I so want Tammy to still be here and happy and alive. Just today I had one of those guilt ridden moments. The lampshades in our bedroom have darkened over the years and no matter how bright of a bulb I buy, it's still sort of dim. Today I decided it was time to get new lighter lampshades. But then, the guilt hit. Tammy always thought it was too dim in our room but I never gave too much thought to getting new lampshades to fix the issue. I was so wrapped up in taking care of Tammy's health issues and the simple fact was we didn't have money to buy many (if any) new things. So of course, I now feel guilty that I'm fixing the problem and Tammy won't be able to enjoy the brighter room. Why am I so hard on myself?

Marg, you mentioned feeling sorry for yourself sometimes. I seemed to have been misunderstood (or more likely didn't explain myself well) in an earlier post when I said I never have felt sorry for myself. I'm going to try again to explain what I meant. First of all, in no way was I saying my feeling somehow was "correct" and those feeling sorry for themselves were wrong in some way. Absolutely not. Just for whatever reason, even though this new life majorly sucks I try to avoid feeling sorry for myself. It just doesn't seem to serve a purpose other than reinforcing just how awful my life is. I mean, looking at the empty space in bed where my Tammy spent so much of her life pretty much is all the reminder I need that my life is dreadful, empty and mostly meaningless. Now that I think about it, I guess maybe I do feel sorry for myself, I just don't dwell on it. Anyway, to all those who do feel sorry for themselves, I wish I could give you all a hug and let you know how amazing you all are. This journey we're all on takes so much strength and courage to face.

That's the exact reason I post much of what I do here. Throw out enough ideas and maybe one or two little things I post will somehow strike a chord with another member. This whole community is filled with people not only looking for hope but many who try their best to give it.