mittam99

iheartm, I am a very caring, loving person. My grief journey has been very hard and I've lost everything. Tammy was my world and my soul mate. I'm not trying to preach when I post topics of hope. I'm trying to convey to those who are feeling in a hopeless state, that there is hope. It is never my intention to diminish anyone's grief and to suggest that I am somehow belittling those who are not so far along is an unfair characterization. That is absolutely a 100% misreading of who I am as a human being. I'm trying to give back to members here all the love and concern they showed me.

Gwen, that's your honest view and that's your absolute perogative. No one will convince you otherwise, nor should they try. The thing is though, others do feel that their loved one is somehow still in their life, spritually or otherwise. Trust me, I had no preconceived notion of what happens when someone dies. I've experienced things that tell my brain and my heart that Tammy still exists in some way. Truth is, no one really and absolutely knows what happened at the very beginning of existence or what happens after death, right? I do know that in this grief journey we all need reasons to feel like life is worth living. Without them our life is a life of misery bemoaning our new life and living and longing only for the past. I was there and I'm thankful I can see some reasons for hope now. I can see a life that while not the life I wanted with my Tammy, may still be a life worth living. I have a long way to go but by living this new life with Tammy as an inspiration, I have a fighting chance to make it.

Biscuits and gravy is very good. Throw some sausage on the plate and that's a real hearty meal. Not too healthy but damn tasty. And what's wrong with Bisquick?

Kay, what I got from most of the quotes I posted was a sense that to move forward in our life we need to celebrate the lives of our beloved and use that as a catalyst in our new life. In other words, at the beginning of grief all we can do is think about our loss as the worst thing that has ever happened (and it is). We're sad, we lament, we long for what we had. In time though and with some effort, we think about and use our love in a different and more positive way.

Another one of those moments that makes me feel my special angel Tammy is somehow, some way still helping her "Mitchie Pooh"... The other day I took my glasses off in bed to read something. Then I got out of bed and had to go to the bathroom. And yes, there is more to this story than bodily functions. I was tired and needed to get to bed so after doing my bathroom "duties" (bad choice of words, sorry), I plopped myself (more poor word choices, oops) into the bed. I felt and heard something that made my heart sink. I just sat on my nice metal rimmed glasses. A direct and forceful hit. They were pretty bent up and one of the lenses had popped out. "Oh Crap, I really don't have a backup pair and I have to be at work tomorrow at 7 AM". I tried my best to bend them back into shape. I actually did a pretty god job but I couldn't get the lens back into place properly no matter how hard I tried. At least they were sort of wearable as long as I didn't rub too hard with a cleaning cloth. So, I wore them to work. Not too bad actually. Although I was feeling a bit dizzy due to the lens being out of position at bit. I came home and was going to try to get that lens to snap into the right position. Keep in mind, the night before I tried for an hour with all my might and I couldn't budge it, the frame was too bent. Anyway, there I was, frame in hand, starting to press the lens with my thumbs. I was prepared to make one last mighty herculean effort to get the lens in place. With my eyes to the sky, I said "I wish I could get this to fit". All the while knowing I had no chance. Then I pressed on the lens (with little effort) and... it popped back into the proper place immediately and easily. Now sure it could have just been "one of those things", I get that. I can see people's skepticism. But, too many things like this have happened since Tammy died. I choose to believe that she is still here and helping me. And this thought/hope puts me in a place that allows me to progress on my journey.

I hear what you are saying Marg. Of course we'd do virtually anything if that meant our beloved soul mate would still be alive. In your scenario though, I have the strong feeling Billy wouldn't have gone for your "plan". He loved and wanted and needed you and you alone.

Here are some inspirational words I've read that may provide a bit of hope for others: Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning's hush, I am that swift uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not there, I did not die. - Autumn Rain - Mary Frye, 1932 ---------------------- The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not 'get over' the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again, but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same, nor would you want to. - Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and John Kessler ----------------------- In this sad world of ours, sorrow comes to all, and it often comes with bitter agony. Perfect relief is not possible, except with time. You cannot now believe that you will ever feel better. But this is not true. You are sure to be happy again. Knowing this, truly believing it, will make you less miserable now. I have had enough experience to make this statement. - Abraham Lincoln ----------------------- Memory can only tell us what we were, in the company of those we loved; it cannot help us find what each of us, alone, must now become. Yet no person is really alone; those who live no more echo still within our thoughts and words, and what they did has become woven into what we are. - A Jewish prayer ------------------------- Grief is a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness, nor a lack of faith...it is the price of love. - Author unknown -------------------------- Our lives become the sum of all whom we have loved. It is important not to waste anyone. One task of living out the last half of life is excavating and recovering all of those whom we loved in the first half. Thus, the recovery of lost loves becomes an important way in which the past affects the present. - George E. Vaillant -------------------------- Our misconception is in imagining that our suffering or how intensely or how long we grieve is a measure of how much we loved. In truth, none of us would want another's grief as a testimonial of their love for us. More likely we would want our loved ones to live healthy, fulfilled lives without us. Another misconception is that if we truly loved someone, we will never finish with our grief, as if continued sorrow is a testimonial to our love. But true love does not need grief to support its truth. Love can last in a healthy and meaningful way, once our grief is dispelled. We can honor our dead more by the quality of our continued living than by our constantly remembering the past. - Judy Tatelbaum --------------------------- I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity. - Gilda Radner --------------------------- Grieving is not a short-term process; it's not even a long-term process; it's a lifelong process. 'Having a future' now means that although your life will flow again, it will flow differently as a result of the loss. Your grief will become incorporated into your life history, become a part of your identity. And you will continue now, and forever, to redefine your relationship with your deceased loved one. Death doesn't end the relationship, it simply forges a new type of relationship - one based not on physical presence but on memory, spirit, and love. - Ashley Davis Bush --------------------------- It will be the little things that you remember, the quiet moments, the smiles, the laughter. And although it may seem hard right now, it will be the memories of these little things that help to push away the pain and bring the smiles back again - Unknown --------------------------- A wound does not destroy us. It activates our self-healing powers. The point is not to "put it behind you" but to keep benefiting from the strength it has awakened. - David Richo

Bill, I wish I had the perfect words to ease your suffering. There are no perfect words. I do know where you are. I was there. There for a long time. I know how meaningless and empty this feels. It's a pain unlike any other. And I know how hard it is to be apart from your beloved Mary Kay. It's that deep love that you feel that's causing the overwhelming pain. I can tell you too that the pain will subside but it takes time. Right now I know that doesn't feel possible. I am living proof of it though. Please don't give up and please seek counseling if you already haven't. Do you have family you can talk to? I've also personal messaged you if you feel the need to talk privately. Mitch

It is so amazing seeing some of our members learning to adapt to this new life we didn't chose. Recent posts from Brad, Maryann, George and others have truly put a smile on my face. A lot of us joined the forum around the same time and many were pretty much ready to jump off a cliff (emotionally, not literally). Over time, and with much effort, angst and tears those people are beginning to see that there is a life ahead for them, different as it may be. People who read many of my earlier posts have told me they were extremely worried about me at the time. At the online car community I run, many members there were equally concerned that I might not make it. At times I just didn't care about me. Life without Tammy felt like a life not worth living. What turned my journey around were the numerous and almost magical events that, at the minimum, made me feel there was a possibility that Tammy still exists in some way. It was that hope that opened up my mind and gave me a sense of comfort. I felt like I was able to live again. Everyone's journey is different. The spark that turns things around for you may be different. It may just be gradual or you may have an epiphany. The one thing I firmly believe is that you must have a measure of hope. Sans that, I'm not sure you can transition from the misery of grief to any sort of fulfilling life on your own.

Actually (and few people know this) IRS stands for Incredibly Reduced Salary. Truth! Ok... I actually made that up.

Sherbear, I am so sorry that this has happened. Losing your husband and then your baby in the same week is unimaginable. I wish I had the words to ease your pain. My perfect wife Tammy died suddenly last March 6th. She was all I had and was my world. When she died I wanted to die along with her. In those early days of pain and numbness, life was just going through the motions. And that's understandably where you are today. It is so fresh, it's still all so shocking. I can tell you that it's taken me over a year to see light in this darkness of grief. I went to a grief counselor, cried gallons of tears, screamed to the heavens, felt like life had no purpose, joined this grief forum etc... etc... etc... Then, for me, I realized that the only way to survive was to take all the love I had for Tammy and live my life in a way the honored her and incorporated some of her essense into my own persona. But I'm over a year into my grief journey. Right now, you need to just take a moment at a time. Then a day at a time. There are no rules in grief and no instruction manual. The days ahead won't be easy, I can't sugar coat that. You should try grief counseling at some point. This forum is an absolutely amazing resource. Please keep posting here as you are up to it. People here have been living with grief, their experience will help. Do things at your own pace, ignore those who might tell you down the road to "move on". You need support, kindness and understanding from those around you and you need to be kind and gentle to yourself. I'm so sorry for the loss(es) that have brought you here. Peace be with you. Mitch

Believe me Gwen, I understand. Tammy was my whole life and I've never been loved or given love like that before. This new life alone is hard as hell. It's also about learning to adapt at some point and for each or us this happens differently. You said it's hard to deal with not having someone taking an interest in your life. Yes it is. Life feels so shallow, empty and loveless without our beloved by our side. But, there is one person that should take an interest in your life at this point and her name is Gwen. I'm not saying that flippantly. It's your life to live and I hope it becomes a life with less pain and some measure of happiness.

Gwen, it's all how you look at it. If you're being hard on yourself, than yeah ... "it's another day of doing nothing... I suck... life sucks". The truth is you are doing the best you can, right? You're still here, surviving ... even though at times you don't probably care. Are you happy? That would obviously and painfully and absolutely be a no. Just an idea.. If you feel like you're "going backwards" maybe you need to try to make some small changes... even tiny ones. Not anything traumatic like throwing away stuff or remodeling the house, just little day to day things in your life. ((((((((((((hugs))))))))))))))

Wolfskat, let me explain it in detail, I turned 60 last May and Tammy (only in her 40's) was on Social Security Disability. In that scenario, you absolutely can collect survivors benefits. At 60, you would receive 71% of Connor's monthly disability check amount. It's fairly straightforward if you don't work. If you work it gets complicated. If you earn over $15,700, every dollar over reduces your benefit by 50% and that's where it gets tricky and a bit weird. Say for example, you earn $10,000 over the $15,700 figure. They will reduce your yearly benefit by $5,000. So in my case I earn quite a bit over the $15,700 amount. I'm only going to receive around 4 checks this year. My benefit is reduced by 8 checks. The weird part? Instead of getting the money in Jan, Feb, March and April as you'd logically expect, SS won't pay until Sept, Oct, Nov and December. They are sneaky that way. Also, if you try to call the toll free national number (1-800-772-1213) for an explanation, you'll be waiting for hours on hold. Of course there's also an option to have them call you back. Overall, it's probably best to go into your local office.

In grief, sometimes we can view just getting out of bed as a positive.

You may not really "feel" hopeful but sometimes your actions show you actually have hope. I'm certain a month or two ago you would have scoffed at the idea of traveling or entering the sweepstakes. Now, you at least had that inkling of desire. It's a very good thing. And in a way, in spirit, Connor will still be traveling with you.

Ana, don't feel bad, most folks in the USA don't understand Social Security either.

Gracie is going to be a rock star. So happy she is doing better.

Ana, Sure, having your hair colored may seem like a minor and "superficial" thing. But you know what? That's a big positive that shows you care about yourself. Well done.

I was cleaning off Tammy's nightstand yesterday and did pretty well. I could feel tears welling up but I didn't have a breakdown. I still kept quite a few things in their place. One item I had trouble with was a caricature of Tammy's beloved dad. I removed it and it just didn't feel right. That was important to Tammy, so back it went. I guess there's really no right or wrong way to go about our personal grief journeys. If the time doesn't yet feel right for doing something, there's no rush. You'll know when the time's right. We already have enough emotional turmoil and angst, no reason to add to it.

Gwen, I wish I had the power to ease your suffering. And you are suffering, I can feel it. I think we've all noticed how deep your pain has gotten over the past month or so. I know I reached out to you privately and if you ever feel you're ready, you know how to contact me. We're family here. Grief it seems has no schedule or timetable. It's so unpredictable. If grief was an airline, no one would fly it because they'd never get to their destination on time!

Anthony (Finch), everything you're feeling is the norm (sadly) when it comes to grieving a soul mate. Not that that makes you feel any better, but it is the truth. I too met the love of my life online and my Tammy was the sweetest, most amazing woman I have ever known. I too felt like my life ended on that cold and miserable day of March 6, 2015. Every day was a struggle and it was a victory just to muster the energy to get out of bed. My tears could have filled buckets. I honestly thought I would not survive and at times, I really didn't want to. It felt as if it was a fate worse than death. This early in your grief journey, there are no words I can say that will give you any real relief from the pain. Crystal was clearly the woman of your dreams and all you feel now is empty. You're dealing with the added complication of never having had the chance to be with her in person. And you ache for those hugs and kisses that were meant to be but never will be. I'm so sorry this is all happening. I encourage you to continue to post here, it will help. We "get it". I also will tell you that I am seeing some light in the darkness that is my grief. I miss my Tammy as much now as I ever have, but I've decided to make some sort of life for myself. And to live in a way that honors who Tammy was. Even though I've been on my grief journey for over thirteen months, I still have moments when I cry so hard I can't even breathe. This hurt never really goes away. When you love someone as much as I loved Tammy and you loved your Crystal, the deep love translates to deep grief. You are only 3 months into your grief. Posting here the way you have is a big step. Your story is very heartbreaking to read and my heart goes out to you. I wish you peace in your journey and some measure of comfort along the way. One day at a time, ok? Mitch

Anytime, Joyce. We're here not just for ourselves but to help others if we can. All of us need as much support and understanding as we can get. If others can relate to our own journeys and/or give them hope, well, that's a very good thing.

Joyce, we all go at whatever pace we can in this journey, it's not a race. Reading your post tells me you are taking those baby steps and that is good. It wasn't long ago that I couldn't even imagine "sprucing up" the house like I'm now doing. I was thrilled when I just made it through another day of pretty much doing nothing; well, nothing but crying. At first all you can try to do is cope. Then you try and function. Gradually (so gradually you may not even notice) you take those tiny baby steps. Eventually, the hope is you will be in a better place emotionally. Maybe it's our deep love that holds us back at times. Moving forward may feel like we're "moving on" from the love we had shared. Or that we are somehow forgetting about our lost soulmate. Nothing is further from the truth. We will never forget. For me, it's actually the memory of who Tammy was as a person that inspires me in my "new" life.

For those who don't know who these Mutt and Jeff characters were that Marg mentioned, here's a picture... Tammy was 5'2" and I'm 6'1" so I guess you might say Tammy always looked up to me.