mittam99

Brad, it's great to see you able to think of your future and a future that has some positives. Your Deedo and my Tammy would be proud of the direction our journeys are taking. Both our wives were our soul mates. Our whole lives, really. When they became ill we didn't hesitate for one fleeting moment to become their primary caregiver. We cherished every moment of our lives together with them. Now we're facing this new life we didn't choose and we could have easily given up. Could have just given in to our darkest, most grief laden thoughts. But we didn't. That's not to say our days are easy. Triggers are still everywhere. But we are our trying our best to live our life in a way that let's our beloved spouses inspire us, forever. And, as Maryann said one of her posts, we're "still standing".

Marg, you are too much. So funny. Also, only drive off the small cliffs in you have four wheel drive. ^ joking.

That's what we need to do, Brad. Find some solace in this world. For you, it's hiking. For me, right now, it's home repair. Maybe down the road it will be hiking for me and home repairs for you. We need to try be ever evolving and adapting because this is new frontier for all of us.

Bill, I know how hard your days are and how sad and lonely you feel. And how you ache for Mary Kay. After all, you've just lost your whole world. Even though the pain is almost unbearable I also know you wouldn't give up a moments time that you spent with your beloved. Your intense grief is a testament to the incredible love you both shared.

George, excellent post. I'm glad you're taking care of yourself. That's so important for our emotional well being. Early on in grief we pretty much don't care if we live or die. But we need to accept that we are still living even though we aren't sure why. Life truly is a blessing. I like how you mentioned that grief isn't something you get over like the flu. So true. It takes time, patience with yourself and a whole lot of effort. No matter what, our lives will never be the same without our soulmate. But taking it one day at a time, we still might have a life worth living.

Patty, this for me was one of the hardest things to deal with. I work in a business where I have hundreds of customers. I dreaded each time a customer gave me their condolences or asked how I was doing. And there was a couple reasons for it. One, I went back to work to occupy my time and my mind with something other than my misery. And every time someone asked where I had been my emotions and my mind were taken back to the day Tammy died. After that, I pretty much was useless for the next hour or so. Two, (and this is universal) although people meant well, their words didn't help. "She's in a better place" or "time heals all wounds", etc. Early in my grief I just didn't want to hear it. I know how hard this new world is. How hard it is to live without your soul mate by your side. How nothing seems to have meaning. How you long for your old life. Keep posting at the forum, it will help. We can offer you a virtual shoulder to cry on and the wisdom garnered from our own grief journeys. Oh, and here's a great big virtual hug.(((((HUG))))) Mitch

This may be a terrible analogy but you know how sometimes you're just in a rut? It's the same old same old, day in, day out. And then you give something different a try. All of the sudden you feel better about things and rejuvenated. Well, in this grief journey I think we all sometimes get in a rut. It's understandable, but it may not always be good for our emotional state or our progress. Taking that small step of changing something or trying something different may just set a positive spark in motion. Right now I'm working on a bunch of mini-projects around the house. It gives me something to do to keep my mind in a good place. Doing house work is minor, but my "to-do" list keeps me moving forward. And, after each project is completed, I get the feeling Tammy is smiling.

Yes, the pain does ease a bit, but it's always there in some form. What happens is that over time, we learn to adapt. We figure out what we can and can't do and what works for us and what doesn't. It's a learning process and it's a slow one. Grief work is a full time job.

Marty, I know there are many members here that aren't yet ready to hear a message of hope. Their personal journey won't yet allow it. And I totally understand and can relate to that. Hopefully, my post will resonate with those looking for that glimmer of comfort and peace in their new life ahead.

After a little over 13 months without Tammy by my side, I'm sort of "getting used to" this new life on my own. Not liking it, or relishing it in any way, just functioning and sadly, accepting it. This is a life without the love I shared with Tammy and without real purpose. My only goal right now is to get through each day the best I can. When Tammy was alive our life wasn't easy at all. We had many financial hardships and Tammy's health problems often led to life or death emergencies. It was a major struggle at times. But, we had each other. And because of that, at the end of the day we thought everything would be okay. We could have the worst of days and then a hug or a smile would take us to a better, happier place. It was the little things that made us happy. With Tammy's health deteriorating just getting out and eating lunch at a local sub shop was a wonderful moment. Giving Tammy a massage on her aching joints or making her a tasty meal would make her so happy. Seeing her smile made me so happy. Our life wasn't about trips around the world or big bank accounts; it was about being with that person that makes your heart beat a little faster. Tammy and I were made for each other. She was the girl I waited my whole life for and I always did my best to be her knight in shining armor. When she died unexpectedly on March 6th 2015, the world I loved was gone. My happiness was gone. My main reason for getting up in the morning was gone. That unconditional love I felt was gone. The world was suddenly a place I didn't recognize. It was dark and cold and the people left in it didn't seem to care about me. My perfect wife and my happy life were now in the past, in the blink of an eye, In those early days of grief, I couldn't fathom living like this for even a few days longer. I bought books on grief, saw a counselor, joined Marty's grief community, and reached out to anyone who would listen to me on the phone. I needed anything that might give some relief from this relentless pain and misery. I honestly didn't know how I was going to make it. I cried in agony constantly. Why was Tammy's life so hard? Why wasn't she blessed with the gift of good health? What did I do wrong? How can I possibly survive without my Tammy? Thoughts of the events of March the 6th played in my head over and over. I was utterly and completely devastated and overwhelmed. I came to Marty's forum to vent my pain and members here offered support and encouragement. They said it would take time but the pain will lessen. I read their words and I appreciated the kindness but my mind couldn't imagine a future of any happiness. It seemed hopeless. Fast forward to today. These thirteen months have been so hard, so painful and so hellish at times. Life without Tammy is awful, it sucks. But gradually, I started to realize that I needed to live a life. Live it in such a way that honors the life I had with Tammy and keeps her essence alive inside of me. I've had a number of things happen that have given me hope that Tammy is with me in some way. That has given me a measure of comfort. To all of you that are in deep grief and agony... I can't say when, I can't say where or how, but, please realize that your life of pain will lessen. I know you can't see that now. I understand that. I've been in that dark place where all I wanted was to end the pain. I saw no hope for a future with even the smallest amount of happiness. But, I've begun to see there still is light in this world. Embrace your smallest victories and applaud your tiniest baby steps. Be gentle with yourself. And remember, your beloved will always reside in your heart. Wishing you all the best, Mitch

I mentioned this one time before but it's appropriate for this topic as well. A while back I was playing music while I was working out and lifting some heavy weights. Music can be a good motivator in that situation. Unfortunately, the Kelly Clarkson song "My Life Would Suck Without You" came on and I lost it. So there I was, barbell in hand, sobbing and yelling out "my life does suck without you Tammy". Music can definitely stir the emotions... good and bad.

I actually laughed out loud reading this... A man goes to join an order of monks. The head Monk says to the man, "This is a silent order. You will only be allowed to speak once, every 15 years." The man says "Okay" and so begins his time with the silent order. 15 years pass and the man is sitting in the refectory when the head monk approaches and says to the man, "It has been fifteen years. What would you like to say brother?" The man responds, "The porridge could do with a little more sugar." The head monk nods in acknowledgement and walks away. Another 15 years pass and the head monk finds the man in the dormitory and says, "Brother, it has been another 15 years. What is it that you wish to say?" "The bed sheets are a bit thin." Replies the man. Again the head monk nods in acknowledgement. Yet another 15 years pass and the head monk sees the man and asks, "15 years have passed. Have you anything to say?" "Well actually I've been thinking about it and I'm leaving the order. It's not really for me," says the man. "Yes, yes," sighs the head monk. "I think that's for the best. You've done nothing but complain since you got here."

Brad, I totally get what you're saying about the Pollyana-ish stuff. The world of sunshine and lollipops seems very far fetched when you feel like you're in the depths of hell. I've been in those depths. And the reason my posts are now more hopeful is that I'm living proof that life does go on after we lose our beloved. We do grow and adapt and function and yes, even smile from time to time.

All good HH. I now see how you meant it. It's all part of this confusing, mixed up, crazy world of grief.

Marg, you got that right! There are no "sides" in grief and as you said, we are all suffering. And as you said the idea of this forum is to both voice our feelings (good and bad) and give others a reason for hope. I believe that, without hope, this grief journey is nearly impossible. We are all here because we've lost our soul mate, our companion, our lover, our best friend... our everything. We come here because we are hurting. We come here looking for some measure of comfort and understanding. We come here to vent. We come here to tell others that there is some lightness in this dark sea of grief. We come here because others who haven't gone through a loss like this don't understand us in any way. We come here because we are angry. We come here because we feel guilt. We come here because we are trying anything that might ease the pain. We come here to honor our lost love. The list of reasons we're at this grief forum is long. All of us are now living in a world that has been changed forever. It's like imagining your worst nightmare scenario and multiplying it by 1,000. This new life can be downright miserable, At times if doesn't even feel like we have a life. But somewhere along the way, the hope is that we do find a measure of comfort in this bleak world. No, we won't be living it with the person that we really want to be with. It will never be the same. But we human beings are a resilient bunch and as dark as things seem now there is a future for all of us. And dare I say, some happiness to be found. I for one am grateful for Marty's forum. Members here have helped me and taught me and at times, given me the hope I needed to go on.

Bill that is very good to hear. Just take it one moment at a time. -------------- My rollercoaster grief ride continues. I wanted to listen to the baseball game on the radio and reluctantly decided to use the FM radio on Tammy's phone. I say reluctantly because I knew I would start crying. Well, I wound up with a grief burst that was so intense I lost my breath a couple times. I was rocked to my core. I couldn't help it. I had to look at those text messages. Text messages sent in early March 2015. There they were in black and white (plus colorful emoticons... Tammy loved using them). Tammy telling me how much she loved me and telling friends how determined she was to get better. Chatting with my sister on the day before she died and being her sweet, funny, caring, adorable self. Talking about getting stronger and being able to do more and go on those dates with me she loved so much. Tammy telling someone she was doing well. Tammy worried about me driving in the snowstorm... All the texts were pointing to a future of happiness and love. Then just a matter of a day later, Tammy was gone. All her dreams and all my dreams... gone. One of the most wonderful people to ever walk this earth and my perfect wife, gone. I admit I'm doing better than a few months ago but I am still hurting. I never know when I'll be transported back to that horrible day of March 6th. I'm still trying to find my way. Two steps forward, one step back. I guess we can call that the grief dance.

The list of shows I can't watch (and enjoy) anymore would probably take up most sections of the TV Guide. Just another one of those painful reminders that our loved one is not here to share with us.

HH... I certainly have not seen anything like that here at Marty's forum. I remember the first night I started posting here a few weeks after Tammy died, I hated my new life. Felt like I didn't want to live. Was overwhelmed by guilt and was absolutely devastated. Members here tried to tell me that in time, things would get better. At the time, I couldn't imagine or see that. But I listened to what they said and it gave me a measure of hope. No immediate relief of course but I knew these people had also lost their soul mate and they were not just surviving, but living. There are a lot of obstacles to overcome when we are in grief. Nothing comes easy and certainly not happiness. I've had some better days recently, but even on these days, tears flow easily. This isn't the life I wanted. It sucks a good portion of the time. I ache for Tammy and I still don't understand why she was taken at only 45 years old. That pain will always be with me. It's just that I'm learning to "compartmentalize" my deep and overwhelming grief. Grief used to consume me 24/7. Now I'm trying to live a life that both honors Tammy and would make her proud. I'm nowhere near happy. I will never again experience the happiness I had with Tammy. I'll never give or feel that intense type of love again. I know that. I'm not the same person, never will be. I am trying to not just function, but to accomplish positive things in this new life I didn't choose. No one is telling you to post only positives or pretend your life is sunshine and lollipops when it clearly is not. The hope is that someday soon, the dark clouds of grief will lift a little and the pain you feel will be lessened. Mitch

Ana, let's face it, grief is a lot of hard work. It's emotionally draining. Sometimes it does take everything we can muster to just get out of bed. And you're right, it is like going in circles or "deja vu all over again". I know you mentioned that it feels like you died when your boyfriend died. And that's understandable you feel like that. We all do to an extent. Your plans and hopes for your future life died on that day. But the reality is, you didn't. You're still here. You're still a very worthwhile, lovable human being and you are alive. Yes, a huge part of you is gone. You're truly heartbroken. But, all that love you have for him will never die. The time you spent with him is something that can never be taken away. I wish I had a magic wand that could ease your pain. I wish I could make you happy again. Truthfully, I wish I could invent a time machine and we all could go back and be with our soul mates. All I can offer is encouragement and support. Sending a virtual hug to you and everyone here.

If I had the world's most powerful megaphone, I'd climb to the top of Mt. Everest and let the world know about my amazing Tammy. Realistically that's not happening. So, I've honored her in other ways, I'm letting the world know Tammy's story via Marty's grief forum. I've made a memorial page with memories of Tammy and photos. And recently I did something different and I think very cool. I had a small grove of trees planted in Tammy's memory. There are a number of online sites that do this. What makes it even more special is that Tammy's full name (Tamara) is derived from the biblical name "Tamar" meaning date tree.

Maryann, What you wrote made me cry. And I mean that in a good way. I miss Tammy so badly. But I know she's with me, she'll always be with me! I love her so much. I am so happy that some of that fog has lifted for you, my dear friend. And that your Mark is inspiring you in many ways. Thank you so much for caring. Those of you new to the site may not know what Maryann was referring to in her post above; read here if you're interested. A year and a month ago to the day, my wife Tammy died. When I found this community a couple weeks later, the pain was overwhelming. I was beyond distraught and devastated. I had thoughts that life wasn't worth living and I had moments where I contemplated suicide. Thankfully, that's something I could not do, life is simply too precious. If you're new to this grief journey and you're overwhelmed with pain and can't imagine a future that's worth living, I have three words of wisdom... Never give up.

Bill the pain does lessen with time. You are very early in your grief journey and of course there's no timetable. And no instruction manual. You'll find your way just like we all are trying to do. Just remember, Mary Kay will always reside in your heart and the love you shared will last forever. ------------------------- Another day, another grief burst for me. After daughter Katie left home, Tammy loved spending time in her room. She enjoyed it on a number of levels. First, it gave her some comfort. She missed her little Katiebug terribly. It also gave her another room with a different view. After all, she spent most of her time in our bedroom. This morning as part of my "spruce up the house plan" I replaced the broken blind in Katie's room. I also decided to change the bedding. And that's were the story takes a painful turn. Tammy as you know had an incredible amount of health issues from systemic lupus and raynauds to recurring MRSA and hemorrhaging. As I went to remove the comforter, I saw blood stains. And of course I cried. Then behind the bed I saw some blood soaked gauze from some of the wound care I did for Tammy's sores. It obviously had fallen off. All I could think about was how much my sweet Tammy had to endure. How this inside and out beautiful, charming woman was tortured with horrendous medical problems throughout her life. And how she had courage and grace that few could imagine. Tammy really was the most special woman I've ever known or ever will know. As painful as this morning was, I know Tammy would be proud of me. I hope she knows that she is still the reason I go on living. My Tammy gives me the strength and courage to live in a world that is lonely and at times seems meaningless. No one knows exactly where our grief journey will ultimately take us but I'm in a better place than I was just a few short months ago. Mitch

Thanks for posting that sweet picture. Hopefully Gracie keeps putting on the pounds!

Kay, we do adapt slowly but I suspect the pain and those triggers will be with us for the rest of our lives. Thankfully, my Tammy is with me for the rest of my life as well. It's impossible for her to ever leave my heart or my head. And I'm not just Mitch anymore. I'm Mitch with a whole lot of Tammy mixed in. And that's a very good thing. The hard part is not being able to kiss those perfect lips or touch her soft skin or hear her voice of an angel. We all long to get our old lives back and go back in time and be with our soul mate again. We hope to wake up one day and realize this was just a nightmare. In a fantasy world, that would happen to all of us. Unfortunately, that's not reality. Our reality, our new way of being is sad, it's lonely, it feels so meaningless. Our challenge is to wake up, face the day and figure out where we are going. To figure out who we are and what we are capable of. And this will take time. We will have some ups and many downs along the way. Some of us may take longer to find a direction to take. This new life sucks, sucks really badly. But, we are alive (even though it often doesn't feel that way) and this life is all we get. It's not the life we dreamed of. It's miserable a good part of the time. But, we may as well make the best of it. Let's try not to be so hard on ourselves. Be patient with yourself, this process is a slow one...

In my situation, there is a terrible irony. I live in a townhouse community that was all homeowners when I purchased mine years ago. Over the last few years the policy changed and now some of the homes are rental units. Unfortunately about 3 years ago we got new neighbors... renters. And even more unfortunately they were literally neighbors from hell. Tammy loved keeping windows open and hearing the sounds of kids playing outside and birds chirping. These people (I hesitate to call them neighbors) were horrible. Parties on their deck til 1 or 2 AM. Kids that were allowed to roam the streets after midnight with no adult supervision. And worst of all it sounded like they were trying to destroy their house inside out. It was so bad that it sometimes sounded like they were trying to break through the walls to our house. It was very unnerving. It definitely affected Tammy's emotional state of mind and I'm sure her health as well. I'll never forget a winter storm we had where these people were throwing icy snowballs at our house. Kids and adults. The irony? About a month after Tammy passed away, these awful human beings were evicted. Why couldn't they have been evicted a couple years earlier? I'll never know but I believe these people contributed to Tammy's death in some measure. They were relentlessly noisy and malicious. In talking to their landlord one day I found out they did nearly $25,000 in damage to the house. All the plumbing was destroyed. The kitchen cabinets were knocked off walls. There were holes in the walls. And much more. The landlord was obviously upset and apologized to me profusely for not screening these people better. However, the last two years of Tammy's life were made even worse by their constant racket. Often happening from 11 at night 'til 6 in the morning. Tammy and I could never catch a break. Our only break in life came when we found each other and fell in love.