Margm

Gin, guess that is why guilt is one of the emotions of grief. They are gone and we aren't. I could not understand my mother's years of anger. My close friend stayed angry at her husband, still admittedly is angry and she is remarried to a man that has been ill since she married him. We all reach for a lifeline of some sort. My mom was married to my dad for 44 years. Now she is fixing to be 95. Her little Alzheimer's mind remembers being married to five men. She says "they were all healthy when I married them, but they all died." (She was only married to my dad.) But this refrain is repeated over and over throughout the day.

Marty, that widow who lived in the motel, out of a suitcase reminds me of myself. Leaving my sister widow neighbor is the hardest thing about leaving our place. This is her hometown, where she was born and raised. Her husband had built their house. She knows my situation though and she recommends my leaving, even though she and I will miss each other. There are nine houses on the street and five widows. We were going to leave anyhow, Billy just left without me.

In March one year ago we brought the new RV home. We were not homesteaders, we were not stix and brix people. We have always had a gypsy/nomad heart, but had a family that always needed us for something. After Billy passed, the first week I was going to trade for a Class C and leave. Then it hit me, how in the hell could I go to all the places we were going to go without him. How could I do what we shared, by myself. No platitude can fill in the blanks. It would be 24/7 torture. We had actually discussed at one time that the one remaining would take the others ashes and travel. I cannot do it. We had already started getting rid of things. I have to leave. I cannot stay even in that state. The house is over 2000 sq feet on over two acres of the most beautiful woods of Arkansas, still in the city limits of this small town. Hills and valleys separate each house. I cannot handle the quiet and solitude. I will do something Billy would never have done. I want an apartment in a big apartment complex where I can hear life, not death. I will move all Billy's things, but, living in a place like that would have been a nightmare for him. But, he is not with me, is he? I cannot physically do the things he did. I have had 54 years of nothing but responsibility. I don't want to be responsible for the upkeep of appliances, a roof, AC/heat, plumbing, and I might even lease my car. This is where we began, birth, graduation, marriage, children born and raised. I cannot be where he left me.

She is a beautiful miracle. So happy for you.

One thing I know we all feel. we want to believe we will wake up from this nightmare and they will return. If only they could. I hope he keeps visiting my dreams, but waking up is bittersweet. I usually forget my dreams. Some you cannot forget.

See Brat, you have words, very helpful words. Sometimes it helps to bring them out like a leech brings out nasty infections. I am a leech. And Marty, you always make us "think" and oh how that helps.

@Brat, sometimes I wake up to him saying somethig. The whole family living off me put so much responsibility on me that I awoke with him saying "its enough." It was, so I left it to them. I cannot fight yet, but flight is easy.

I know this Marty, your chapter on guilt explains this. Billy forgave me so many worse things. I know it is me that cannot forgive myself. I have to get the discovery and shock of his death mask out of my mind and rememberhis happy antics in pictures and remember his tricks and bad jokes he played on shopkeepers, making like he had a complaint. I had to be with him to blow his cover because they were stunned at his anger with them and were relieved it was a joke. But he could act serious. He wasn't, and they finally laughed with him, but it was a nervous angry laugh. Just my Billy. I wanted another miracle but it was not to be. It was not magical or mystical. It was reality.

I have been visited in my dreams more than once and sometimes I awaken and reach for him. He had high cheek bones and that is what I want to touch, and those beautiful hands that I cannot remember without terrible pain. They were held out to me letting me know he had to give up. My last emotion to him was anger because I did not want him to give up. When this enters my mind I am supposed to say STOP!!!! I just let it enter again. I have to take my granddaughter to doctor today so I will take my Xanax that this memory always flips me out. I hope he understood and forgives me. Brat, I have his picture on here. I cannot look at any of his pictures, especially the ones he took of nature for his photography hobby. It is strange the things that give some of us comfort and that same thing causes pain in others. I have slowly introduced some music, not all. But I am putting all his clothes in the big plastic buckets and all his cards and pictures in buckets too. Maybe my guilt keeps the pictures from giving me comfort. I miss him so terribly, but "I am him and he is me" has to forgive myself. And the tears that I have held back for so long finally returned. That part of us has to forgive me and now I have to "stay" and get on with everyday responsibilities. If I was gone, Billy would be taking our granddaughter to doc. I so wish I had gone. He was a much better father and grandfather than I am, but I am left. I still sleep with his pillow and a pair of his pants. But we were both enablers to the whole family and I feel so lacking.

@Brat#2: I think a person dreams in REM sleep, and if I remember right, that is the time that is close to awakening. I am trying to remember from the time I worked at the teaching hospital, when I was working in the neurology department, at that time in the sleep clinic. I can think of nothing more boring than watching someone sleep all night. I just typed results. Last night/this morning, Billy visited me in my sleep. Just an anytime dream, nothing significant. I woke up and it was just "matter-of-fact." It was a disappointment that it was only a dream. He had told me that "the one left must stay," so I will stay. I have to get things in order in my physical house, my mental house, and (in my opinion) my spiritual house. There is no help right now. I am not sure that the saying that time heals all wounds applies to us that have to stay. One of my doctors a few years ago, and his two daughters were taken away in a plane he was flying. His wife and teen-aged son were left. I cannot even imagine the pain she felt, and I do hope I am too old to experience that pain, yet some here have experienced this double pain. They tell us to write, and I think we were given this forum to express our pain. And now, and scattered all over this forum, are the writings of all my pain, my stumbling steps down this path that none of us want to walk. I thought it rather odd after my dad's passing that I might have dreamed of him only once that I can remember. Billy visits me often, and I wake up to reality afterwards. There is never a message. Before he left I had a mystical, magical imagination. He did not believe in anything supernatural. He said I was him and he was me. Somehow when he left, he left me with that part of "us" that was void of mystical magic. We just trudge on. We are the one left, so we must stay. And I do what I do, I write. My family were writers. Nothing significant except memories, and my sisters published poems.

@Kay. What I called "my cancer friend" had her funeral, I called her mother-in-law to talk to her husband. Friend was just buried. I guess it was time enough for a marriage license, cause he was on his honeymoon. A close in-law had a date with the undertaker after her husband's funeral. Date made at the funeral. Another relative passed away, very troubled LONG marriage. She had his things cleared out of the house day after funeral. Guess we all take our grief differently.

I think when reading how callous people are to all of you, I wonder why they are not that way to me. Then my brain opens up. They are not that way to me at all since I hide. I don't even do Facebook since a friend I graduated with, who lost her husband 7-8 years ago told me to go back to the house I have to put on the market and fill my time being busy. I went to the house that I pay for, pay the utilities on, TV, phone, DISH, internet and family moved in with loud marital problems. Flight or fight? I do best right now with flight and hide. They are gone now and I hope they took all their things with them. I go back Thursday but I cannot stay. I have responsibilities with my elderly mom, and other things. I will give the house in the other state away. Billy left me in that state we were planning on leaving anyhow. I will miss my sister widow neighbor. She lost her husband 4-5 years ago. As much as we will miss each other, her advice to me was to go. Terri, how do we say welcome when this is the last forum anyone of us wants to be on? The thing is, we all come from different backgrounds, different cultures and even a lot from different countries. We all have one thing in common, grief. I hate the saying that misery loves company. It doesn't. I was so bereft that I joined three days after Billy left. I think I have made a step forward, but then I find it is two steps backward. There is no cure. Friends say it will get easier. I look forward to easier.

We don't need to compare. If it works for you, good. If it does not work for you, ignore. Someone said "one size does not fit all." Another said that we all come from different backgrounds. We do. Whatever brings you any relief at all, something that might help someone else, if the size fits you wear it. We can ignore things and wish that person well if they have found help. I think we all have a degree of understandable anger. We did not choose to lose that most important part of our life. Confusion is my constant companion. I prefer Billy, but I cannot have him. One size does not fit all, different backgrounds, different cultures, we all share the same pain, none worse than the other, even though we might argue that. I have said this before. My friends all have suffered this loss and they tell me it gets easier with time. But then I have my grandmother's writings that says at 18 years, the hurt is as bad as the day he left. That was not encouraging. Myself, I would have preferred Billy had left me for another woman than the way he left. I also wish I had been the one who left first. I think I have too much time to think. I am selfish.

I do not think you said anything wrong Janka. I envy your faith and you live in Slovakia, a country that may not have always had freedom of religion. To me your faith is what I want and need. That it helps you through your illness and pain, that it helps you with your grief speaks volumes to me. I think we can say how we feel, but I think we are not to try to influence anyone in our belief. I think the fact you have your faith is a miracle in itself. You are a refreshing, colorful spirit to a sad time. Like someone said, we all come from different backgrounds. In my opinion, and this is my humble opinion, no one elses, to have the faith you have, in your country, you are a beautiful brave soul. I have been here since three days after Billy's leaving me, and I look forward to your verses and color to a drab world.

Cookie, I did not read your post. I am afraid I got too passionate about what I felt was a breakthrough and then crash landed. Like Mitch said, we all come from different backgrounds. When I have to talk to someone from a different country for computer help, or ATT, I have to explain that they are speaking to a great grandmother from the deep south. So, that is my background with some redneck thrown in. Despite three police cars and an ambulance at my house at around 2:00 am, I was not cooking meth.

Me too Mitch. I honestly thought I had a break, only confusion.

I go back to the house in Arkansas this week and I prefer hiding at my daughter's house. I got out this week and met with old friends, naturally at a visitation before the funeral yesterday. They were older than Billy and me, I did not view the body, but signed the guestbook with both of our names. They know Billy is gone. He had worked with the deceased. I had known them and his wife had passed away three years ago. My friend, the sister, said the wife had passed as we all should, opened her car door and a heart attack. I am so tired of death.

@G: I am terribly confused. I am not young like all of you. I know we are not promised tomorrow, and if anyone can find one remnant of peace, I wish them well. One size does not fit all is the truist thing I have seen. I don't have much time. I cannot live like this.

I don't want you to feel my faith. I am terribly mixed up right now. I had typed the first sentence and the correction monitor on this tablet corrected with the word "incongruent." It means "out of keeping or place, out of harmony." I have no idea how it came up. Right now it is how I feel though. I admired Janka for professing her faith and I felt the need to say what I said. I felt good about being on the forum. I thought we were all looking for peace. I know now, I am on my own. Sorry. I cannot get more confused than I am right now. No help.

I am at a loss using this tablet and not my computer, so I cannot put this as it was written. Maybe it has been on here before. Like in the note Marty was referring to from 09/27/2011, I read the post below it. I have had my anger, and I put the pamphlet given me that this below came from, I thought I had thrown it away. I did not want platitudes, quotes, verses from the Bible, a book I still cannot read or concentrate on. Don't tell me that you understand, don't tell me that you know, don't tell me that I will survive, how I will surely grow. Don't tell me this is just a test, that I am truly blessed, that I am chosen for this task, apart from all the rest. Don't come at me with answers. That can only come from me. Don't tell me that my grief will pass, that I will soon be free. Don't stand in pious judgment of the bounds I must untie, don't tell me how to suffer, and don't tell me how to cry. My life is filled with selfishness, my pain is all I see; but I need you, I need your love.............unconditionally. Accept me in my ups and downs, I need someone to share. Just hold my hand and let me cry, and say "My friend, I care." (Joanette Hendel) Bereavement Magazine So, in glimpsing my former faith, in finding it again, to some extent, I still have my anger, but I found some peace also. My pain is still with me, and I am sure it always will be. I lost my partner, my other half, my very best friend, my love of 54 years. The only thing I have different from anyone else on here, my natural life will possibly be shorter, my path not as long.

"I" went back and read this post from 09/27/2011. And I hope I was not "preachy" or "offsetting." Indeed, it discussed spirituality and religion. I do not remember the word "faith." Perhaps they cannot be separated. Perhaps they are all the same. Faith can be in one's own self. Billy always said I was him and he was me. So, in all these "I's" I have not signed his name again, "I" should be "we." And Billy and I did not always agree on religious belief. But, he was always with me to find my faith. It was always important to him that I have it, and in so doing, we were "us," He did leave me and so did my faith. Finding it again was my own personal journey. I cannot enter that cold impersonal chapel again. "I" won't lose what has returned. But "I" will certainly not force it on anyone else.

Faith is discussed here in this post. @Kayc: I know Marty will agree with you 100%. And, I am surprised at my passionate reaction, but I find myself happier about myself for my replies. Our path on this journey is definitely not just about me. We all face battles every hour, every minute, every second of each day. Watching the coach Monty Williams stand in front of all those people at his wife's funeral, I was doubting this man could have such a strong belief that he could put his trust in something he could not see, my heart was so hardened I became even more a doubting Thomas. My heart did not defrost at all. In fact, I could only think that it became frozen when I saw Billy's death mask that Saturday morning some 20 weeks ago. That was not the time it froze. It froze the minute I tried to pray in a chapel where my faith had been stripped from completely. It began freezing when the "everyman's" minister tried to pray his "everyman's prayer. Having been given two miracles of life myself, having known that even some doctors will say it is up to a higher power, I was very surprised at my strong belief. But, after so long without my faith, it was a relief to find this path was still open. It was not only open, but some of the brambles were actually cleared away. But this is not all about me. The reply "one size does not fit all," and an answer that you cannot see the air you breathe, you cannot see love, and knowing you cannot see each person's pain, and you realize you cannot feel each other's pain, and no one person can walk the other's path, you reach out for a life preserver thrown in dark cold waters on a long dark night. You reach, but yet you know, not everyone will be able to find this. There is no cure for the pain, and indeed one size does not fit all. My reaction to this subject was a total surprise to me. I can say though, I feel better because of it. But my selfish grasp of this life preserver did not help anyone but me. It did not remove my pain, nor did it help anyone else. I realize I was given many years, and I realize I passed many milestones that did not happen for everyone. I am thankful for all of that. No one person's pain is made greater or less by the number of years. I was so bitter. I could only see my pain. I know each anniversary I could not post with any fanfair because some of my friends did not make it that far. But this morning I am grateful that I was given so many blessings. This morning I can see and feel them, yesterday I could not. Faith also is something you cannot see, but I am thankful this morning knowing it has not left me. But the pain, I know it will always be with me too. That is my journey, There is no "I" in me, you, or us. And prayer is something "I" have to work on. "I" am not there yet.

Somehow I have bared my whole being on here. I was not feeling as lonely. Maybe that was a misconception on my part. I guess we do all grieve differently. We reach for help where we can, each of us in different ways. Like was said, one size does not fit all, but we reach for peace anywhere we can.

I think we are not to speak of religion on here, which to some of us is the same as asking us not to breathe. If we were discussing whether Clinton would make a better president than Donald Trump, then that would certainly be inappropriate for this forum. Well, we can all agree that our grief would not be helped by either of those two, but it would not be appropriate on a grief forum either. Listen, you all know I am having a problem with my anger with God. I think we, at least a few of us, have this anger. I envy anyone's faith in a higher being, and I know what higher being that is. I understand not being able to argue religion. When I got Billy's diagnosis, when he was still in recovery, I went to the chapel. It now is against the law to put any one religious article in a state chapel. I could not pray. They stripped my faith right out of that hospital. I have not recovered. If God cannot be mentioned on this forum, I will have to leave it. If you do not feel it, I understand. But, just like that faithless chapel, and the faithless minister, the lifelong Methodist minister, now everyman's "minister" I feel very strongly about having someone with faith near me. If you do not feel it, that is okay. I cannot let what little faith I have be left cold, like my heart, like that faithless chapel. Now that is all. And, I think I just had my breakdown.

I wish life was like the children's story on the "paths" thread. Child that I am, I hope that is the way it is.