moving on after bereavement

I echo your post Hummingbird.

Gally thanks for your post. I will try to remember it and act accordingly.

Kindest thoughts for all of you who have lost your dear partners. Did anyone read the interview with Charles Saatchi in last weekend's Times (I think)? He was married to the novelist Josephine Hart, who died last year from ovarian cancer. He is clearly heartbroken, but talked of his anger at being expected to 'move on'. For him, this would seem, he said, like the greatest betrayal. He still sets the table for two, and lays out the newspapers as she liked to read them. This resonated with me, as I've longed thought that grieving, and adapting, are surely very individual, and I'm sure if I lost my husband, the last thing I'd want to do is move on. He is so much a part of me, and reading all your posts has made me thankful that I still have him. Thank you for sharing.

gally we all grieve in our own way. So many people just don't know what to say, or end up saying the 'wrong' thing. And most people can't just listen. There's nothing can take the pain away or make things 'better' but with time and friends we can learn how to manage the loss. (((Hugs)))

As far as dinner invitations go, Gally the same goes for divorce as far as I'm concerned. As soon as ex went, the invitations dried up. I was asked out to tea or an evening meal en famille but never with couples.

As for rules - there used to be rules for mourning, but you can never make rules for grief.

That would certainly be a good idea for a blog Gally - in some ways I imagine it was easier when there were very set rules about mourning and what people should do.
x

Mishap I think we all deal with the situation differently. I appreciate it when people talk to me; if I'm having a particularly bad day I will just wave or smile and get on my way and they understand. Men are the most difficult; most of them don't know what to do. I told our fish man (he comes 3x a week!) that J had died and he mumbled 'oh dear, that's not good - 3 haddock fillets then?' and I see others approaching and beating a hasty retreat or ducking into a shop so they don't have to say anything. I'm not embarrassed about talking, although sometimes I don't want to and if I'm having a good day, I will certainly bring up the D subject. Possibly they are afraid the tears will be turned on - so what - we all do it at quite the unexpected moment! Weekends are bad - everyone is off doing their own thing and although a lot of friends include me, it isn't quite the same. I have only been invited out to dinner once since January in mixed company which is difficult to deal with - so ladies, we widows aren't after your husbands (in fact we'd prefer to be with our own) but it would be nice not to be totally cut off the dinner-party list . So, as far as It affects me, I am happy for life to carry on as 'normal' as it possibly can be and yes, I do want people to talk.

As for how to deal with us immediately after the event, contact is paramount. Friends came by at odd times of the day with small things - food, a bottle of wine, flowers or just gave me a hug and all that helped greatly. Listening to us going over and over and over events (in my case how J died and how I coped with police, GP surgery, coroner etc) so being a good listener is a must as are plenty of tissues and patience! Help with the most mundane things which get forgotten in the heat of the moment - shopping, picking up relatives from the aiport or station etc.....
Perhaps we should start a 'How to Help a Widow/er's' blog

As we all know, it is very hard to find the right words to say to someone who has suffered such a bereavement. Sometimes we unwittingly say the wrong thing - but better indeed to say something rather than nothing.

Maybe you ladies who are in this sad situation can help the rest of us by telling us what helped you most in terms of actions and words, then we can try and get it right next time a friend or neighbour is in this situation. I would certainly find this advice helpful. I know I try to get it right, as we all do, but never feel sure that I hit the spot.

Like others I have just read the whole of this thread in tears. I salute all you courageous women and send (((hugs)))

The daily loss that lasts eternally
THIS just about sums it up for me.

I have printed off the poem, too. I think I'll try and memorise it.
A couple of months after Ken died a neighbour asked me if I'd got used to my new lifestyle. I told him a lifestyle is what you choose, and I hadn't chosen this.
He hasn't spoken to me since.
Even well-meaning friends ask me what I am doing for me?
I say everything because there's nobody else in the house to do it for now, except when family visit.
I am reading Alfie Boe's autobiography. I hadn't realised his father had died of a brain tumour. The chapter about his dad made me cry a lot, so I do not know if I dare pass the book on to my son, who was with me when his dad died.

Gally, there are no words, are there.....xx

The poem seems to sum it up completely. I have cut it out of the Times to wave about at people! Think I may blow it up and put in a prominent position in my house. I was asked, recently, how I was getting on - the result: tears and a hasty exit from the village Chemist's shop. If it looks as if someone is going to ask I just flap my hands around and say 'don't talk about it' and move on quickly to the weather or something else.

lucid Many thanks for sharing a beautiful poem. Matthew Parriss is one of my top favourite journalists. I would like to tell you a true story concerning him. I shall do so under the heading People I admire...

I don't know what time does but it doesn't take the pain away. Perhaps it makes it more manageable. It becomes part of you and if someone offered to take it away, you wouldn't want them to because the pain is the link to the one you lost.

Matthew Parris wrote a lovely article today about the subject of this thread and included this poem. I wanted to share it with you all as it spoke to me even though it is over 12 years since my DH died.
Yesterday Frances Gibb, our legal editor, sent me a poem — Condolences — that she had written last year, for herself mostly, after the death of her husband:
Please do not ask
If I am now recovering
Or if I see the light
At the tunnel’s end.
Nor speak about relief — or burdens lifted.
And, worst of all, new starts.
Please, please don’t ask
If I am getting through —
Have come to terms
Or find my life Is back on track.
Of course I live each day to each
And gladly smile
My coping, to “prepare a face
To meet the faces that you meet”.
What else is there to do?
In any case, you would not want to know
The daily loss that lasts eternally.
Just, please, don’t ask.

Loving thoughts and hugs to all of you ladies who are suffering just now. Your posts are remarkable and I wish you all better days in the future

thanks peaches41 a do live beside all my family but all see after xmas .the same as you a flat will do just fine xx

To london - I'm going through the same thing as you - I put mine up for sale yesterday and am hoping to get either a little flat to rent or sheltered accommodation nearer my son, 200 miles away. I am dreading the hassle of selling like you, but I feel I must make the move now or I never will. I know I've got both happy and sad memories of this place, but I really feel I am doing the right thing now. I wish you luck in your decision xx

and love to learner, gally and all of those left without their DH or OH.

When my exDH left me, I couldn't bear to look at family photos, even now some 20 years on, I find a tear in my eye when I take out an album and see the happy times we had as a family.

But, this doesn't even come close to how those in long term (or short) loving relationships cope when their OH has died. I am now so lucky to be with my long-term OH, but one day, one of us will be left on our own. I don't think it is something you can "rehearse" for, it is inevitable and as such those of us with our DHs or OHs must cherish every day we have together.

its two years for my husband he suffered with a stroke for 12 years then we found out he had cancer .he only lasted 8 weeks .i some times think i should sell up and move as i still feel he is still hear .the only thing is the hassel of trying to sell .

Just been driving down the M1 and listening to the wonderful Nanci Griffith singing. One of her songs - Across the Great Divide contains the words (apologies Nanci if any of them are not quite right):

"Now, I hear the owl a-callin'
Softly as the night was fallin'
With a question and I replied
But he's gone across the borderline

He's gone away. Yesterday.
Now I find myself on the mountainside.
Where the rivers change direction
Across the Great Divide."

They seemed appropriate.

Loving thoughts with you all in a situation that we all find so hard to imagine - or try and avoid doing so.

I too try and imagine it as OH is far from well. He tends to choke - even on his own saliva - and sometimes I wake in the night and prod him as he is so drugged up at night you cannot hear him breathing and I worry he may have choked.

My oldest GS (9) has started asking so many questions and one of them was: "Do we only have one life, and is that really fair?" I am sure we can all identify with his cry from the heart.

All we can hope for is the loving support of those (both virtual and "real") if we are faced with such a situaiton.

narg

Smoluski Nellie, your message comes from the heart. Such wise words.

Gally
I do not know what to say but feel that is no excuse not to say something.
I like you cannot bear to look at family photographs where we are all so happy.I was married at 19 for nearly 41 years and I do not know how to be without him. All my adult life he was with me and now each day he seems to move further away from me.
In a previous post you mentioned that something always seemed to happen when you were feeling down I found those thoughts from you very helpful .
For me it was six months ago and like you it seems to get harder and harder.
My thoughts and prayers are with you all