I don't even know what to say about this except one thing: I felt your pain and loss in every single word I read. And I can't in my mind's eye imagine it. Having been with Dan for most of your life and then losing him can only be likened in my imagination to losing a limb, specifically your right arm. And then a pice of your heart (I mean physically not metaphorically). I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say except tonight before I go to bed I'm lighting a candle for Dan and for you (together) and saying a prayer. That's all I can do because I can tell you right now there are no words for this, there just aren't.
I honor and empathize with your grief, Janice. It's been 13 years since my husband died of brain cancer (much too young at 61) and I still get knocked sideways now and then. Kudos to you for doing what you can to learn about grief--which of course is different for everyone, as you know--and for finding ways to write and process your loss in other ways. And yes, connections are so critical. It just takes time to find your new path, and honestly, to find who you are after losing a partner. Be patient with yourself! Blessings.
This was so beautiful and heartfelt. You and Dan were fated to be together. I’m so glad you have a place to work thru your pain and share with others your discoveries.
Hubby lost his parents (mom was 50, dad at 69) and sister (when she was 27). I could not know how a hole in one’s heart felt, so I did my best to support him on a “down” day. He had a bit of survivor’s guilt too for a long time.
Hi CK, That's like my Mom. She was 13 when her Mom died, 19 when her Dad died, and in her early 30s when her brother and sister died. She never talked about it, and I can only imagine the pain she carried.
How my stomach ached when you said you closed the door. How many times I have felt so alone and no one would ever understand because they had never been that alone.
You truly are a gift. Anyone who reads your writing will know how special you are. At some point in life I hope you can feel the appreciation of how helpful you are to those of us that need your words. It helps us not feel crazy.
Hi Susan, I hadn't anticipated being in a room of family and loved ones and feeling so alone. I am so grateful to hear that my words and experience can have meaning for others.
It has taken me seven years to come to terms with life on this planet without my mom. But I am firmly in Task 4 now: "Find an enduring connection with the deceased: Remember the loved one while moving forward." My connection is staying strong ( and keeping her alive!) by writing about her remarkable life and posting the stories on Substack. I am so gratified to know that others find her adventures interesting and entertaining. My readers have said such kind and encouraging things about our Katy. Thank you Janice for helping me see I am working through this loss better than I thought.
Hi Sharron, I planned to move forward and leave Dan out of my posts, but it wasn't possible. He is so much a part of my life; as you say, writing is one way of keeping him alive. And you have ignited some ideas for future articles.
I love the way that the first task talks of acknowledgement rather than acceptance. This feels more doable and it doesn't negate the difficulty of the task.
It's so very hard when your husband dies. Mine died in 2011 and we had only been together 20 years, and yet it was just dreadful.
I used my knowledge of the 5 stages to help remind me I wasn't going insane - I find the tasks a bit dry. My experience with acceptance for instance, was that some moments I could 'accept'; others, I would be in total denial and incredulous that this could have happened at all. I also felt angry a lot of the time, feeling abandoned by my Philip, although of course that wasn't his intention. Talking to him (shouting even!) helped too. As did having his photos up (and sometimes turned face down when I was feeling cross).
For me, writing also helped. I journalled massively and that eventually became the basis of my book Gifted By Grief, which was a cathartic experience in itself. Because by then I could see the gifts in his death. Not something I could have done in the early years.
Sending you a lot of love Janice - it's a difficult process and can reverberate in various ways for years.
Hi Jane, Thank you for your comments. I didn't find the stages of grief very helpful, but the four tasks - seemed to fit more with my experience. I hadn't been a writer before my husband's death, and, as you say, it has been an enormous help in expressing myself and sorting through.
As I read about the four tasks of grieving, I realized that although I’d accomplished many things and healed to a degree, there was work to do.
Thank you for sharing this heartfelt description of your grief.
I don't even know what to say about this except one thing: I felt your pain and loss in every single word I read. And I can't in my mind's eye imagine it. Having been with Dan for most of your life and then losing him can only be likened in my imagination to losing a limb, specifically your right arm. And then a pice of your heart (I mean physically not metaphorically). I'm sorry. I don't even know what to say except tonight before I go to bed I'm lighting a candle for Dan and for you (together) and saying a prayer. That's all I can do because I can tell you right now there are no words for this, there just aren't.
Hi Patti, 🩷 Thank you.
I honor and empathize with your grief, Janice. It's been 13 years since my husband died of brain cancer (much too young at 61) and I still get knocked sideways now and then. Kudos to you for doing what you can to learn about grief--which of course is different for everyone, as you know--and for finding ways to write and process your loss in other ways. And yes, connections are so critical. It just takes time to find your new path, and honestly, to find who you are after losing a partner. Be patient with yourself! Blessings.
Hi Susan, Thank you for your comments. I'm finding that is a huge part of it - figuring out who I am now. Take care.
It’s scary and also exciting figuring out the solo you after a partner dies. At least it was (and still is) for me. Blessings on your journey.
This was so beautiful and heartfelt. You and Dan were fated to be together. I’m so glad you have a place to work thru your pain and share with others your discoveries.
Hubby lost his parents (mom was 50, dad at 69) and sister (when she was 27). I could not know how a hole in one’s heart felt, so I did my best to support him on a “down” day. He had a bit of survivor’s guilt too for a long time.
Hi CK, That's like my Mom. She was 13 when her Mom died, 19 when her Dad died, and in her early 30s when her brother and sister died. She never talked about it, and I can only imagine the pain she carried.
How my stomach ached when you said you closed the door. How many times I have felt so alone and no one would ever understand because they had never been that alone.
You truly are a gift. Anyone who reads your writing will know how special you are. At some point in life I hope you can feel the appreciation of how helpful you are to those of us that need your words. It helps us not feel crazy.
Hi Susan, I hadn't anticipated being in a room of family and loved ones and feeling so alone. I am so grateful to hear that my words and experience can have meaning for others.
It has taken me seven years to come to terms with life on this planet without my mom. But I am firmly in Task 4 now: "Find an enduring connection with the deceased: Remember the loved one while moving forward." My connection is staying strong ( and keeping her alive!) by writing about her remarkable life and posting the stories on Substack. I am so gratified to know that others find her adventures interesting and entertaining. My readers have said such kind and encouraging things about our Katy. Thank you Janice for helping me see I am working through this loss better than I thought.
Hi Sharron, I planned to move forward and leave Dan out of my posts, but it wasn't possible. He is so much a part of my life; as you say, writing is one way of keeping him alive. And you have ignited some ideas for future articles.
🩷
I really appreciated reading about these four tasks and looking at this different lens on living after loss.
I love the way that the first task talks of acknowledgement rather than acceptance. This feels more doable and it doesn't negate the difficulty of the task.
Hi Cali, I've had a tough time accepting the word accept and find the word acknowledge a better word for me, too.
You are courageous. Deepest gratitude 🙏
Thank you Paolo.
It's so very hard when your husband dies. Mine died in 2011 and we had only been together 20 years, and yet it was just dreadful.
I used my knowledge of the 5 stages to help remind me I wasn't going insane - I find the tasks a bit dry. My experience with acceptance for instance, was that some moments I could 'accept'; others, I would be in total denial and incredulous that this could have happened at all. I also felt angry a lot of the time, feeling abandoned by my Philip, although of course that wasn't his intention. Talking to him (shouting even!) helped too. As did having his photos up (and sometimes turned face down when I was feeling cross).
For me, writing also helped. I journalled massively and that eventually became the basis of my book Gifted By Grief, which was a cathartic experience in itself. Because by then I could see the gifts in his death. Not something I could have done in the early years.
Sending you a lot of love Janice - it's a difficult process and can reverberate in various ways for years.
Hi Jane, Thank you for your comments. I didn't find the stages of grief very helpful, but the four tasks - seemed to fit more with my experience. I hadn't been a writer before my husband's death, and, as you say, it has been an enormous help in expressing myself and sorting through.