Acceptance is hard, if not impossible, and maybe that's not really the goal. I can't imagine going through what you went through with your dear Dan, but I'm getting some idea from the things you write here. My Ed was going downhill for more than a year and I sensed the end for him was near, yet when it happened I wasn't prepared and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I've had to accept that it happened but I don't have to believe any of it was fair. It wasn't. It isn't.
Your growth since your Dan died inspires me. I'm grateful that you're writing out your feelings. I know how hard that is, how painful it can be, but holding it all inside would be even worse. And your words are a comfort to so many of us who are going through similar painful challenges.
Take care, my friend. Remember the days you cherished with him. They lasted much longer than those awful days--and they'll stay with you much longer.
Hi Ramona, Thank you for your response. I , too, have to accept that it happened. As you say It wasn't what I had in mind, nor was it fair.
One of his best friends in the final days was a therapy dog - "Ruffie." He talked to it and showed his new friend to everyone.
Today, I went to visit with my great-granddaughter and we brought the dog along for her to play with. The thought that went through my head was great-grandpa and great-granddaughter meeting for the first time.
She played with the dog for a long time, hugged it, and give it more than one kiss. It was so precious to see and one more step in the healing process for some reason.
Our rational brain understands the word 'final', but our emotional brain can't process it. Do you have to heal from a lifetime that brought you joy for so long and then sadness? Do you have to accept because people say you should? I don't know the answers. I imagine that, little by little, day by day, you will discover them for yourself. At least, I would wish that for you.
Hi Heather, So true. It seems like unexpected events add to the healing. I mentioned to Ramona about taking the therapy dog Dan relied on when we visited my Great granddaughter today. She played with the dog for a very long time, gave it hugs, and kisses. The thought I had was great-grandpa and great-granddaughter met today and for some reason that was important.
I had no idea what dead meant until I lost my mother, only this vague idea of "here" and "not here." I had never experienced grief in my long life, and when I finally did, it horrified me. I am learning to live with it. I've made room in my life for it. After six years it is easing, but I suspect it will be in me forever. Thanks to Janice and Heather and Ramona for sharing your truths.
This is the hard one, Janice. We can accept that "this is the way it is and the way it will be", and still not heal. My friend handed out little cards at new years to a handful of her friends - one each. On it was a word that was to be our focus or "mantra" for the year. Mine was "acceptance". I have it posted where I can contemplate it every day. I prefer to think of it as "surrender". ( Stop resisting it, Sharron, just go with it! ) Maybe we are not MEANT to heal?
Hi Sharron, Yes, so true. Maybe, it depends on the definition of the word - if it means being at peace with his death - that may never happen, but he's not here - that's a fact I can't deny. There is a part of me that doesn't want to heal - that wants to hold my memories and him close.
(Sorry, I accidentally sent it.) The love and support of family and friends and even strangers helped us work through the excruciating pain . God’s love helped us to be open to receiving their love and support.
Hi Karen, Grief is a funny thing - as you say. In the middle of nothing, I cry one more time. The gift I hadn't expected and that has been so meaningful was the support of others on Substack. For that I am eternally grateful.
All of you who are experiencing grief and sharing your great loss of your spouses are helping the rest of us who are going through the same thing to put things in perspective. It is such a strong support system for each other. Grief is a funny thing you think you are rolling along nicely and then BAM! It hits you smack in the face ! But, we deal with our loss and sadness and bounce back. Memories are both joyful but , yet, also painful at times. I, too, sometimes talk to my husband as if he is physically present. It gives me a calmness and peace. He and I went through a dreadful experience with grief (and I still do ) of losing our daughter.
I accept... and then I don't. Wash, rinse, repeat. You are doing a wonderful job of accepting, as shown in your writing. You are strong, courageous, and it is a blessing you share with us your story. Thank you.
Sending you a virtual hug Janice - some days seem to be filled with more of everything than others and that idea of acceptance (in my own journey) has at times left me wanting to jump off the cliff. Sharing my own experience of walking through this piece of what I've come to view as "my soul story" is done with a view to opening an avenue of hope for others. You know I'm a firm believer that we are all "Perfectly on Time". As I near the five-year mark of Don’s passing, AND as a result of exploring Suzanne Giesemann, Gary Zukav and Robert Schwartz (to name just a few) the intensity of the sorrow is lessening and the gratitude for ALL that Don and I experienced is increasing. I suppose that contains a certain level of “acceptance”. A good friend reminded me recently that not everyone gets to have the kind of relationship we had and certainly not for as many years. Of course, our 34 years married doesn’t quite compare to you and Dan but I have a feeling that in both instances our lives have been truly enriched by the journeys we travelled together. As I add the idea that perhaps we came here as part of a “soul agreement” to experience all that was to be part of “the story” I find myself (at times) slipping into a state of calm and gratitude with a knowing that he’s really not absent – he’s just not available in that physical form any longer. I still chat, ask questions and engage and at times am quite amazed at some of the signs that show up to affirm that he IS nearby. I was also recently reminded that I too can gift myself with the kind of encouragement and compassion we are quite capable of gifting to others. Take care – I consider you a dear virtual friend and want you to know you’re not alone… and please be gentle with yourself.
Hi Marilyn, Thank you ever so much for your post. That is what I am coming to - he's not really absent - just not available in the physical form any longer. I see the signs, they are definitely there and we do chat often. Thank you for that friendship and take care.
Acceptance is hard, if not impossible, and maybe that's not really the goal. I can't imagine going through what you went through with your dear Dan, but I'm getting some idea from the things you write here. My Ed was going downhill for more than a year and I sensed the end for him was near, yet when it happened I wasn't prepared and it hit me like a ton of bricks.
I've had to accept that it happened but I don't have to believe any of it was fair. It wasn't. It isn't.
Your growth since your Dan died inspires me. I'm grateful that you're writing out your feelings. I know how hard that is, how painful it can be, but holding it all inside would be even worse. And your words are a comfort to so many of us who are going through similar painful challenges.
Take care, my friend. Remember the days you cherished with him. They lasted much longer than those awful days--and they'll stay with you much longer.
Hi Ramona, Thank you for your response. I , too, have to accept that it happened. As you say It wasn't what I had in mind, nor was it fair.
One of his best friends in the final days was a therapy dog - "Ruffie." He talked to it and showed his new friend to everyone.
Today, I went to visit with my great-granddaughter and we brought the dog along for her to play with. The thought that went through my head was great-grandpa and great-granddaughter meeting for the first time.
She played with the dog for a long time, hugged it, and give it more than one kiss. It was so precious to see and one more step in the healing process for some reason.
Amen to that, Ramona.
Our rational brain understands the word 'final', but our emotional brain can't process it. Do you have to heal from a lifetime that brought you joy for so long and then sadness? Do you have to accept because people say you should? I don't know the answers. I imagine that, little by little, day by day, you will discover them for yourself. At least, I would wish that for you.
Hi Heather, So true. It seems like unexpected events add to the healing. I mentioned to Ramona about taking the therapy dog Dan relied on when we visited my Great granddaughter today. She played with the dog for a very long time, gave it hugs, and kisses. The thought I had was great-grandpa and great-granddaughter met today and for some reason that was important.
I had no idea what dead meant until I lost my mother, only this vague idea of "here" and "not here." I had never experienced grief in my long life, and when I finally did, it horrified me. I am learning to live with it. I've made room in my life for it. After six years it is easing, but I suspect it will be in me forever. Thanks to Janice and Heather and Ramona for sharing your truths.
This is the hard one, Janice. We can accept that "this is the way it is and the way it will be", and still not heal. My friend handed out little cards at new years to a handful of her friends - one each. On it was a word that was to be our focus or "mantra" for the year. Mine was "acceptance". I have it posted where I can contemplate it every day. I prefer to think of it as "surrender". ( Stop resisting it, Sharron, just go with it! ) Maybe we are not MEANT to heal?
Hi Sharron, Yes, so true. Maybe, it depends on the definition of the word - if it means being at peace with his death - that may never happen, but he's not here - that's a fact I can't deny. There is a part of me that doesn't want to heal - that wants to hold my memories and him close.
I understand.
(Sorry, I accidentally sent it.) The love and support of family and friends and even strangers helped us work through the excruciating pain . God’s love helped us to be open to receiving their love and support.
Hi Karen, Grief is a funny thing - as you say. In the middle of nothing, I cry one more time. The gift I hadn't expected and that has been so meaningful was the support of others on Substack. For that I am eternally grateful.
All of you who are experiencing grief and sharing your great loss of your spouses are helping the rest of us who are going through the same thing to put things in perspective. It is such a strong support system for each other. Grief is a funny thing you think you are rolling along nicely and then BAM! It hits you smack in the face ! But, we deal with our loss and sadness and bounce back. Memories are both joyful but , yet, also painful at times. I, too, sometimes talk to my husband as if he is physically present. It gives me a calmness and peace. He and I went through a dreadful experience with grief (and I still do ) of losing our daughter.
I accept... and then I don't. Wash, rinse, repeat. You are doing a wonderful job of accepting, as shown in your writing. You are strong, courageous, and it is a blessing you share with us your story. Thank you.
Thank you Patti. Accepting isn't easy, that's for sure.
Sending you a virtual hug Janice - some days seem to be filled with more of everything than others and that idea of acceptance (in my own journey) has at times left me wanting to jump off the cliff. Sharing my own experience of walking through this piece of what I've come to view as "my soul story" is done with a view to opening an avenue of hope for others. You know I'm a firm believer that we are all "Perfectly on Time". As I near the five-year mark of Don’s passing, AND as a result of exploring Suzanne Giesemann, Gary Zukav and Robert Schwartz (to name just a few) the intensity of the sorrow is lessening and the gratitude for ALL that Don and I experienced is increasing. I suppose that contains a certain level of “acceptance”. A good friend reminded me recently that not everyone gets to have the kind of relationship we had and certainly not for as many years. Of course, our 34 years married doesn’t quite compare to you and Dan but I have a feeling that in both instances our lives have been truly enriched by the journeys we travelled together. As I add the idea that perhaps we came here as part of a “soul agreement” to experience all that was to be part of “the story” I find myself (at times) slipping into a state of calm and gratitude with a knowing that he’s really not absent – he’s just not available in that physical form any longer. I still chat, ask questions and engage and at times am quite amazed at some of the signs that show up to affirm that he IS nearby. I was also recently reminded that I too can gift myself with the kind of encouragement and compassion we are quite capable of gifting to others. Take care – I consider you a dear virtual friend and want you to know you’re not alone… and please be gentle with yourself.
Hi Marilyn, Thank you ever so much for your post. That is what I am coming to - he's not really absent - just not available in the physical form any longer. I see the signs, they are definitely there and we do chat often. Thank you for that friendship and take care.