mittam99

Fair enough and points well taken.

Welcome back home, Marty.

Cookie, believe me, I still have many moments where I feel lost and my life feels empty. I've just been able to take that love I shared with Tammy and use it in a way that keeps me going. I think it certainly helps that I've had some almost magical things happen that give me hope that Tammy exists on some level and not just in my heart. I'm so sorry about your depression. Are you on medication (if that's too personal a question, my apologies) for it? I want to make one thing clear to everyone. Yes, I am in a "better place" emotionally than I was a few months ago. But, I'm still a grief trigger away from being a basket case. I still have a long way to go to reach any semblance of happiness. I want those of you who are still at your lowest low emotionally to realize that what has happened to me (coping better) can happen to you. It may feel hopeless now, but things do change during this grief journey and sometimes things improve.

Patty, just walk up to that mic with your man as your inspiration; encouraging you, giving you strength, guiding you. Your voice will sound fine. Hugs.

Remember, your mom will always be a part of you, truly. She gave you life and you know all she ever in life wanted was for you to be happy. I know it hurts, I know triggers are around every corner and that this is the worst time of your life. Be gentle and patient with yourself. All that love will get you to better place emotionally. It takes time... you can't "rush" grief.

You're so right, angel. The angst, the pain, the longing, the emptiness are all going to be there because of that unconditional love. We sort of balance the pain of loss with the fact that we were so blessed to have such a wonderful loved one (in this case a parent) in our lives. It's not easy in any way and it's just a moment by moment, one day at a time existence.

enna, I don't think that's actually a hummingbird. I have the feeling it might have recently swallowed one though.

Hopefully Marty will consider this idea. It's a free part of this forum software and is easy to implement. I'm certain it will be a fantastic and important add on.

Marg, you have to try some Chesapeake Bay blue crabs, they are guaranteed to put a smile on your face. Tammy used to love this mug:

Marg, none of our memories are improving with age. Just saying. I sometimes forget who I am until I look down at my name badge. Ok, I'm exaggerating, but just a tad. And you're right, grief seems to play with our minds and we lose our focus and concentration; we are more forgetful at times. I am marveling at how you are handling all that life is throwing at you these days. You are a remarkable lady. Off Topic and on the subject of shellfish (since you mentioned crayfish) ... looks like our Chesapeake Bay is going to be filled with a bumper crop of our yummy blue crabs this season. Which reminds me of how much Tammy loved those crabs steamed and my homemade crab cakes. There's nothing like sharing a table (covered in newspaper) cracking those crabs to get to the succulent meat and washing it down with an ice cold beer. Uh oh, now I've made myself hungry. Be back later.

This quote, taken from the Dean Koontz book "Odd Hours" struck me as quite profound. The last line is particularly thought provoking. "Grief can destroy you - or focus you. You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone. Or you can realize that every moment of it had more meaning than you dared recognize at the time, so much meaning it scared you, so you just lived, just took for granted the love and laughter of each day, and didn't allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it. But when it's over and you're alone, you begin to see it wasn't just a movie and a dinner together, not just watching sunsets together, not just scrubbing the floor or washing dishes together or worrying over a high electric bill. It was everything, it was the why of life, every event and precious moment of it. The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can't get off your knees for a long time- you're driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by the gratitude for what preceded the loss. And the ache is always there, but one day not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life."

That was me actually. And it's true, especially in the early months of our loss. There were times (after waking up in the morning and realizing Tammy wasn't in bed next to me) that getting up was like trying to get out of quicksand. I had no motivation, no reason to accomplish anything and could barely do anything beyond basic necessities like eating. And even that was a challenge. Along the way, and in time, I slowly looked at this awful new life differently. Not that it wasn't awful anymore, it still was. It's just that instead of living each day only longing for my old life, I realized I had to live in the here and now, too. To do that, I took all the love and lovely memories of my darling Tammy, and began using that as fuel to move into a better place emotionally. These days, getting out of bed is easier but it still hurts knowing Tammy isn't here to share in my accomplishments.

Brad, same here. I also have no brothers and two sisters. Funny thing... growing up, my younger sister's girlfriends would often come to me for advice. I've always gotten along well with women. And men, too. I guess I'm "likeable". Ok, enough about me, back to grief talk...

I read somewhere that men and women typically grieve differently in that women tend to be more vocal about their loss and men internalize it more. I'm sure studies have been done to back this up. For me though, I've always had to talk things out if there was a problem or conflict in my life. If something... (anything) is bothering me I need to resolve it as soon as possible for peace of mind. Tammy would tell you of the many times I'd stay up all night resolving problems with the computer or around the house. I couldn't truly relax or sleep until I had the problem "licked". Just last week, a light switch in the bathroom broke in the middle of the night. I couldn't sleep so there I was in complete darkness doing an electrical repair at 2 AM! Tammy's death is, by far, the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Not that the deaths of my parents didn't hit me hard, they certainly did. But, losing my beautiful Tammy was (and still is) utter and complete life altering devastation. And there is no "quick fix" as we all know. I'm so very grateful this forum exists. Talking things out with you ladies and gents has helped so much and literally has kept my sanity. Well, at least some of it. Thanks to all.

I have a difficult time watching most of the shows Tammy and I enjoyed together. They simply aren't the same now. Watching them also drives home the point that Tammy isn't here enjoying them with me. Not that I need that point driven into my brain... it's just one of a thousand things that reminds me of what I used to have.

I can watch shows now in a detached way up to a point. At first I couldn't watch any comedies, I couldn't laugh. I was only watching serious drama for the first month or two after Tammy died. Early on, I'd have to turn the channel when a guy proposed marriage or anything super romantic was on. It was just too painful. And to this day I simply cannot watch any scene of a funeral or anything related to a medical examiner. That still is unbearable. I've actually had situations where a scene of a body in a morgue comes on and I frantically reach for the remote but can't find it. I more or less go into panic attack mode and scream out "I can't watch this"... stop!!!!" ... I finally get relief when I find the remote and switch channels. Everything we do in life is done differently now. We are so forever changed by our loss.

George, all this must give you a warm and fuzzy feeling about our government, huh? I feel your pain. Now go get some rest and tomorrow will hopefully be a much better and less stressful day.

Elly you are so absolutely right. It's not the length of time you were in love but the intensity. I think all of us posting here were madly in love with our soul mate. We wouldn't be hurting like we are if that wasn't the case. Anyone that says something like "you were only together a short time so why aren't you over it?", doesn't have a freaking clue. The nice thing about this forum is you won't be judged. We are all "peers" in a sense, we are all suffering. We are all missing the the best part of our world.

Sherbear, I want to expand a little on my reply from this morning. I was getting ready for work when I quickly posted on my phone. Here's the thing. You have suffered two incredibly emotional losses in a short time. It's just hard to even comprehend what just happened in your life. I mean, all of us who post in the spouse forum have lost our soul mate but you lost your unborn child as well. It's truly unimaginable. The fact that you have the strength to post here amazes. You are a very courageous woman. The pain you are feeling from the losses, the emptiness, the hopelessness are all part of this grief journey. You are very early in your grief. The only thing I can tell you is there is no immediate relief. I wish there was. It just takes time. All any of us can do is wake up in the morning and face the day and do the best we can under the horrific circumstances. For now, just try to cope. Don't think too far ahead. It's moment to moment. If you need to cry, cry. If you need to scream, scream. If you feel supported by friends and family, embrace that. If you feel they don't understand, politely walk away. You need all the love and especially understanding you can get. Also, I think posting here will help. Let others know your story, talk about your husband, it will help. If you're hurting, post about it. We know how hard this is, we are living our own life of grief. Truth is, we all need each other. Mitch

You loved him so much Ana, and ultimately that's all that matters.

Going in, I knew Tammy had severe systemic Lupus. Early on, I don't think I quite understood the enormity of her disease, but it didn't matter. Her and I fit like a glove and we were madly in love with each other. I'll never forget my brother-in-law (a physician) "warning" me that Lupus can be very complicated and that I was in for a tough road medically with Tammy. His words fell on deaf ears. It just didn't matter to me. Tammy was my whole existence, my one and only true love and the reason my life was good. My goal was to be her knight in shining armor forever. Brad, you mentioned the "choosing" aspect of a love relationship. That's something that makes the loss of a soul mate different than any other loss. You don't choose your parents or your siblings. Yes, you can love them with all your heart but you were "born into" that relationship. We chose our soul mate and vice versa for one main reason... we wanted to spent our whole life with them as one. When they die, it feels like our own future died too. You no longer look at yourself the same. You lose the whole "we" aspect of your life and it becomes "me". And it feels so bad and so wrong and so empty.

There's no set rules in grief. As long as your workplace allows it, take all the time you need to get ready. I was well over a month and even that was a little too soon emotionally. I had to go back to be able to pay bills, sadly. On the other hand, work has helped me focus my mind on something other than grief.. at least for a few hours. As far as feeling no joy... Joy is something that's not even part of my vocabulary any more. One day at a time. Hugs.

George, it's awesome that you were able to be your dad's high tech superhero! Get some sleep and put your superhero cape in a safe place til tomorrow.

Gin, it depends on how you mean "honoring". I've had trees planted to honor Tammy's memory, created a video of memories for her family, created a memorial webpage and of course made many posts here letting people know how amazing she was. To me though, honoring our loved ones really means living your life in a way that would make them proud and make them smile. And using their spirit and their "essence" as an inspiration in your own life.

It seems all of our beloved soul mates deaths were traumatic. March 6th was supposed to be a good day for me and my sweet Tam Tam. We were watching TV and eating lunch at home. Just a matter of hours later she was gone. I never had a chance to say goodbye or tell her I loved her one more time. The last words I heard her speak were "help me". And all I could do was watch the EMT people rush her down to the ambulance as she was fading away. She was gone before she made it to the hospital. I frantically followed the ambulance and the next time I saw Tammy was the moment it felt like my life ended. I stayed with Tammy in the hospital's trauma room for over 5 hours. I couldn't leave her. This incredible woman laying there was all I cared about. She was all I had. She was my life. She was the best part of me. We were the perfect pair. Made for each other. Early on in my grief it felt like all I wanted was to be with Tammy even if that meant going to heaven to join her. I couldn't and didn't want to live without her. Now, over a year later, I'm still here and living this life with Tammy in my heart and living to honor her memory. I still have a long way to go, but thankfully, Tammy will always be a part of me. And no one can take that away from me!