My husband is gone

Thank you, Rose. Like you, I proudly wear my wedding band. Next to it, on my third finger, I wear Pierre's wedding band.

In Joan Didion's book, she devotes much time and space to the subject of the lack of sensitivity and empathy. She references books by Phillipe Arles who traced the breakdown of the culture in dealing with grief and, also, Emily Post who actually instructed her readers of her books on etiquette in how they should react and behave towards people who are bereaved. I have not found the time, yet, but would like to read the books at some point.

C. S. Lewis, in his book A Grief Observed remarked, wryly, that there should be internment camps for the bereaved -- he said this, of course, in his classic British humour, but meant it when he saw that everyone meeting him could not get away fast enough. Thank God for British humor! (at least, some of it!)

 

Dear Heyhoney, it was so heartbreaking reading your post, first losing your little son, and now your soulmate. Sorry I didn't reply earlier, I go into Grief Hybernation every now and then, where I need to "switch off" and just spend days alone with my thoughts, which doesn't do me any good. I have learned that we MUST NOT repress our emotions, like I did at first, I didn't join this site until 18 months after my C was suddenly, prematurely, unexpectedly taken away from me, from a heart attack. I am glad you're staying with us here, this site has helped me a lot, with everyone being so empathetic, understanding what I'm going through. I don't want to burden my kids with my constant anxiety, depression etc. They deserve to enjoy their lives, I know they're suffering for their dad in their own way, we hardly ever talk about him, it's just too painful. We just get by, making our decisions saying "that's what dad would do/say", or quoting him during our conversations, what his comments would be regarding a particular event, how he would have laughed at something, what he would have thought, he lives through us still. All our soulmates are continuing to live through us, we will always be part of each other. That special bond can never be taken away from us.
Sending you strength.
Take care.
Rose.

 

I've read A Grief Observed too, Georgine, I found it very helpful, a good insight. You're right about British humour, I've actually forgotten it, been away too long, although I grew up with mixed Italian/British humour. I remember how I'd make my C laugh, purposefully commenting on something using British humour.

 

Georgine your rose garden sounds so peaceful. I’m sure there are many memories tied to each specimen. I did manage to macguyver a solution to hopefully keep the rain in the barrel. I have often said if reincarnation is true and I have to come back it’s going to be as a tall man with big strong hands. All my life my short stature and years of computer work have left me challenged in so many ways. We did have a rose garden in our precious home but after two years of tending had to totally rip it our as our doxie went blind suddenly. He could navigate the house without a problem but the yard was too challenging for him. Your life with Pierre mirrors mine with Howie. It was the two of us navigating life with our daughter. She has long flown the nest so we had settled into a comfortable pattern of living.
I used to be a voracious reader but I think I’ve been stuck on the same page in the same book for months. Normally someone even mentions a book name I’m off checking it out to add to my pile. Focus has left me since his passing.
I hope one day I can find myself doing more than just surviving, right now I think my mind, body and soul are just trying to get through another minute, hour or day.

 

Rose,

I would make my Pierre laugh, too - by saying "hello" to the 3 dogs with a British accent.

I saw an earlier post about your C loving elephants, and I loved what you said.

Here is a photo of my Pierre which I took when we were in Kenya in 1984. As I was focusing the camera, the elephant turned around and made a loud noise - causing me to jump in fright, losing the focus and causing Pierre's hair to stand on end when I jumped up.

 

Rose thank you for your wise words. I understand the need to hibernate I had a tendency to do that even before he passed. But I am reminded of my grandmother saying sternly to me that it’s not good to spend too much time alone in your own head. I too do not want to burden my daughter with my feelings. She has gone back full speed into her life as she should with little ones to manage and little time even for herself. Thank you for telling me about your C, my heart is sending you hugs. I am so very sorry he left you so suddenly.

 

Wow, Georgine that IS definitely a special "Close Encounter" to treasure. The fact that you lost the focus adds to the special effect, captures perfectly the scene you described.
Thank you for sharing.

 

You're welcome. Rose.

 

What a weekend. I woke up Saturday knowing I had to face my unkempt yard. We had an agreement - he looked after the outside and I the inside. Those lines got a little blurred over the past few years but our gardening duties were written in stone. I love a garden….but I strongly dislike gardening. I will research the plants, buy them and plant them, after that I had a live or die attitude. He on the other hand would pick up where I left off, weeding, watering, occasionally pruning all the while keeping the large lawn mowed. I’ve had to use the push mower because I could not find where he left the key to the lawn tractor. Now that it’s been found I marched myself out to the yard resigned to getting the job done one way or another. I have a ridiculous sun allergy that makes me break out in hives for days if I’m in the sun for any length of time. I was the crazy lady in the ugly huge sun hat on Saturday. I weeded, I pruned and then I stared down the tractor. I didn’t have a clue even how to start it. After a few attempts and some rather strange grinding noises and a few four letter words I got it started! Half an hour later the backyard was cut. It’s not the usual manicured to perfection results that were normal but it’s cut. One of the neighbors popped his head over the fence and gave me the thumbs up. Several antihistamines and a cold shower later I was feeling a sense of accomplishment I haven’t felt in ages.

 

Well done to you Heyhoney. A great achievement, I understand totally how overwhelming it is, finding yourself alone dealing with land jobs. I live in a rural area too, with a few acres of land, mainly olive trees, fruit trees and at the moment, with all this rain, there are nasty tough weeds almost taller than the trees! It's an overgrown forest! My husband had to clean it up at least twice a year using his tractor, trailing a huge weed rotary cutter, then replacing this attachment with other machinery to prepare the land for sowing a few crops. Driving that tractor is unthinkable for me, it's huge, the land is full of steep slopes, I don't even have the physical strength it takes to attach all that machinery, it's all too heavy to handle.I can't even hold the hand grass-cutter, it weighs so much. I bought an electric lightweight one but it only cuts thin grass. My two adult kids have never been involved in these jobs, they haven't got a clue, I don't expect them too, anyway. Just like you, I would take care of the house and my C would take care of our land, after returning from work. He also did all maintenance jobs, both inside and out. We never had to call anyone, he was a real DIY man, there was nothing he couldn't fix. Now, I absolutely hate calling workers, but luckily we have a friend /handyman who can come with his tractor to do this clearing up. He is very willing to help but I can see how sad he feels needing to do what his friend, my husband, used to do. It breaks my heart too.
I managed to hoe by hand a little plot, just to plant a few veggies, but it was like breaking stones, our soil is tough clay-soil! I had a sense of satisfaction too after I'd finished, apart from being physically exhausted, as if I'd done ten hours of strenuous exercise all at once. I hope my tomatoes go well, after all that muscle work.
By the way, I use my old covid facemask while I'm out pruning and cutting, great protection from all that pollen. I have to use a mosquito repellent too, otherwise I would end up looking like I had chicken pox!

 

Oh Rose69 you are so right. The mosquitoes….this is a really bad year here for them. I am not sure just why it has been quite dry so there is no standing water around. I have already heard some of our local farmers that sell strawberries won’t have any this year between the way to early high temperatures, late surprise frost and little rain there just isn’t much of a crop to sell. Even the annual flowers are very sad looking. My perennials are way behind where they should be except my roses they have already bloomed. Usually in June our grass looks it best but it reminded me of hay when I cut it. I did notice the only thing growing well seems to be the nasty bindweed. There is a patch between fences that will not die. I will keep my fingers crossed for your tomatoes. I do keep my mask handy, between the smoke from the wildfires and the pollen a couple of weeks ago it was very bad here. It’s 4 am and sleep eludes me once again. I thought I would sleep well after all the work but between the very vivid dream and aching body it looks like I will be at my desk early.

 

Oh, my goodness, Rose and Heyhoney, I feel shamed after reading your posts. I thought that I was the only one laboring for hours weeding, pruning, weeding, weeding and pruning, until I read how advanced you both are. Last year, I announced to my neighbor that I was going to learn how to mow the property with the John Deere. When my neighbor who graciously mows it as a favor saw me struggle to get it out of the shed, we both gave up that idea. So I just run along while he mows, picking up sticks, pine cones and whatever else I see to avoid mower damage. Pierre was fastidious - always collecting the mown grass in bags, but I have stopped thinking about that. The roses are plenty; along with the weeding, which is totally out of hand. I put PREEM - a weed preventer, but it only does so much. Then, I fertilize, and before I know it, it's time to do it again. Pierre and I planted about Green Giants, Ginkgos, cherry, plum, apple, Lugustrum, Japanese Maple, and I have transplanted so many baby maple seedings, I stopped counting. And, since Pierre had made a box for a vegetable garden, this year, I finally got around to planting tomatoes.

There is a book - Fire Your Landscaper - which I read about 4 years ago. The author urges the planting of clover rather than grass, and I am so happy that I followed his advice. I love clover - White Dutch Clover, Mini-Clover and Dichondra Repens - which is a ground cover. These plants shoot off nitrogen to surrounding plants. Whenever I see bare spots, I just sow the clover. No mowing necessary. Also, the clover and ground cover work to stifle growth of weeds.

Heyhoney, I loved your remark about researching the plants, buying them and planting them and then.................I had this image of you reclining on a chaise lounge smiling and looking at Howie and saying "Live or Die" when he would ask you what was happening with the plants.

I relate so well to the remarks about mosquitoes. It was brutal this week - and the fire ants decided to join. Then, this am, while I was cleaning the screen porch from the mess that the parrot made destroying a sponge, and just after the poodles were finally settled down, the geese and their families of babies and teenagers saw me in the porch and did their best imitations of starving Canadian geese in South Carolina........... So, of course, I ran like an idiot to get the corn and feed them. They know a sucker when they see one. Tomorrow: Rinse and repeat.

 

Rose and Georgine: I am new to this site and have found it to be so refreshing and comfortable with the unencumbered flow of everything from deeply personal feelings to everyday life. I know that the freedom of anonymity is a factor, but I prefer to think that empathy and compassion are the foremost motivations. I am by nature and life experience an introvert, having lived a remote rural life, but it is certainly enlightening to be a party to your "virtual" conversations. I singled you out for this posting, Rose and Georgine, because one of the topics of your conversations was rings. I am so proud to wear Janet's wedding ring on the little finger of my left hand next to my wedding ring on my ring finger. I never take either ring off for any reason, not for hand washing or for any other reason. Due to its smaller size, I had to force her ring over my knuckle to put it on the first time. Even as many times as I have put on and taken off gloves for my work and as many times as I have occasionally brushed her ring by accident with a hand tool in the course of work, the ring had never even had a close call of accidental removal. The word "had" leads into my story, perhaps trivial to some, but monumental to me. I hope it at least raises some eyebrows.

Over time I developed a subconscious habit of rolling her ring around my finger with my right hand. This motion became more of an unnoticed reflex, somewhat like touching your face with your hands. After having worn her ring for the first two years, suddenly one day at my cabin after returning from the woods, I felt for her ring, and it was missing from my little finger. I went into panic mode and frantically searched the cabin and my truck looking for the ring. I moved furniture and crawled on hands and knees throughout the cabin. I knew her ring had to have been lost very recently since my reflex of touching the ring would have alerted me earlier. The most logical place for the ring to have been lost was in the woods where I had been working with the chain saw. I knew that if I had lost it there, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack. I examined the ground as carefully as I could hoping the sparkle of the diamonds would catch my eye. I searched the cabin and the woods over and over for weeks and never could find the ring. I was heartbroken and deeply depressed.

One day while walking across the cabin, I noticed a sparkle from one of the chairs at the dinner table. I pulled out the chair and there was the ring sitting in the center of the cushion. How could it have been in that chair all this time after my ransacking the cabin looking for it? How could it be in this chair anyway? I never do any activity on or near the dinner table that would involve a hand action capable of dislodging the ring. But there was the ring! I was stunned and overcome with emotion. I put the ring on and with pliers reshaped both her wedding ring and mine into elliptical shapes so that neither ring could possibly move over the knuckle.

What is the explanation of all this? One explanation is that somehow the ring was pulled off my finger at the dinner table, and it fell onto the chair. Then after all the repeated searches, I had failed to find the ring. The other possibility is that the ring was dislodged somewhere else and then was inexplicably moved to the chair cushion where I would eventually find it. I have read about metaphysical occurrences of objects being moved without explanation. Varying conclusions have been reached in those cases. As a deeply spiritual person, as is Janet, I have my own conclusion.

 

Jeffry,

Your post is beyond belief, but I believe it and share your conclusion. From everything you said, that conclusion is inescapable.

I understand your panic in discovering the absence of Janet's ring. I began to look for my husband's ring months after the tragedy.
I say "months", because I was numb during the first 6 months. I looked and looked in the bag in which I knew I had placed it.
It was not there. I tore through the bag - which was a gift from him. I looked in every crevice; every pocket. It was
not there. Then, one day, in a little plastic bag in that tote bag, there it was. I attributed it to the Divine.

My prayers are with you, Jeff.

Georgine

 

Oh Georgine, total solidarity to you. You sound overwhelmed too. In a way though, all this outdoor work keeps our minds occupied, I call it part of my "Nature therapy". It's a good outlet for our pain.
Hearing about the geese made me smile, I can just imagine that scene.
Take care.
Rose.

 

Jeffry, I was so moved by the story of the time you lost your Janet's ring, you described it so explicitly, emotionally, and I can understand your devastation as you searched for it. The unexplained conclusion is definitely something to wonder about. My C's wedding ring is too big to wear on my finger next to mine, so I wear it on a gold chain around my neck. I touch it often (as you perfectly describe, like a reflex action), also to make sure it's still there, I never take it off,and I am terrified of losing it.
Rose.

 

Georgine, I can certainly visualize your frantic reaction when you looked in that bag where you knew you had placed his ring, and it wasn't there. I can also visualize your elation when you later found his ring in that little plastic bag. As you said, moments like that are attributable to the Divine. You, Rose, and I are each proud to display that cherished reminder of our bond with our soulmate in a culture that too often treats them, as Rose says, "as if they are no longer part of our lives".

 

Georgine I have started to research clover. I am in a water restriction zone so there is no hope of grass for the long term. When we moved in the yard was in terrible shape. He worked for the last three years to try and tame it into something resembling a yard but it is still a work in progress. A friend of mine just had a good portion of her yard seeded with clover so I am watching to see how it goes. Good for you planting tomatoes I haven't ventured in to vegetables but a kind neighbor shares her yield each year. Yes my gardening philosophy is truly live or die, for the most part it has been successful except for one very troublesome area in my front. Of course it happens to be right where you would put a focal point. So far the carpet rose, hydrangea and hosta have all chosen die rather than be a glorious spectacle. I've amended the soil, he watered frequently but nothing seems to survive the winter. Everything else behind and beside seems to thrive but this one little area is a barren wasteland. Your comment about me lounging on a chaise is more spot on than you know. At the start of every planting season Howie would kindly drag all our large planters up to the covered porch so I could be in the shade while I planted them. Then he would drag them back into their places for the season.
He was so kind in keeping me out of the sun
I got a good chuckle over your Canada geese - they certainly do have you trained. Up here they are quite the nuisance. I watched on the news last night where someone's dash cam caught 4 of them landing directly in the path of a motorcycle rider. He took quite the tumble, thank goodness the car following him stopped in time. One of the geese didn't survive. They are abundant and bold despite having tons of open space seem to enjoy parking lots for nesting and hissing at every shopper. Last year we had a pair of ducks. We called them Ethel and Fred. Around 7 pm each night they would walk - not fly - but walk all the way up our street into the park. I found them one day cuddled up under my front maple tree to escape the summer's heat. They rested for a couple of hours before they disappeared. I saw them back about a week ago. A true bonded pair.
The mosquitoes are truly vicious. My daughter has them in vast hordes at her more rural property and she has taken a bar of irish spring soap - grated it up and has it in different places in her garden. She swears it is helping but you don't smell the flowers you smell the soap. I'm not sure I can try that. Howie used Irish Spring. I had to have my granddaughter dispose of his toiletries as his scent was too much to handle. Funny how something so mundane can hit so hard. Some days I swear I still smell it occasionally.

 

Jeffry,

First, although I'm getting here late, I want to welcome you to TGW, our GIC "family." I'm so very sorry Janet transitioned five years ago. Although words seem so inadequate at times, now being one of them, I hope you know how truly sorry I am. My husband, Bob, was sick for many years, but it wasn't until the beginning of 2018 that I had to become his full time caregiver. By the time he transitioned in April of 2021, he had a specialist for just about every body part. It was the most difficult, challenging job, I've ever had, but, and this is one of those really BIG!!! BUTS!!!, I would do it all over again, if only I could...

I believe that our loved ones are always watching over us... When I'm alone, I talk to Bob all the time, as if he were still (physically) with me. I've received many signs that I like to believe were from Bob, letting me know he's with me all of the time. The most recent sign happened the other night. I closed all the plantation shutters in the living room, and went into the bedroom to get my glasses. When I went back into the living room to do "couch cuddles" with my dog, Skye, to tune into Netflix and out of reality for the rest of the evening, I noticed one half of the plantation shutter in the middle, on the top row, was open (I have 3 windows side by side in my living room, but it looks like just one large picture window, with three sets of plantation shutters covering them.).

As with Janet's wedding ring, there are several explanations as to why the middle shutter on the top row was open. It could have been that with my always way too foggy widow brain, I forgot to close that one, or as I prefer to believe, it was Bob's way of letting me know that he was with me...

Every morning when I make my bed, I arrange the throw pillows the same way. There have been a bunch of times I've left the house, returned to find one or more of the throw pillows on the floor. When I leave Skye home alone, I always put her in her "room," a/k/a, crate. I'm sure there must be a logical explanation for this, but I can't think of one.

Backing way up to almost a year ago, I was in a very bad car accident. Someone ran through a stop sign, attempting to cross a busy road, and t boned my car. My car ended up doing a U turn, landed in a ditch, the right wheels in the air, the left ones in the grass. The airbags deployed and I felt like I was suffocating. I felt Bob's presence. I tried to think of what Bob would do. I could (almost) hear Bob's voice telling me step by step what to do. I was able to unfasten the seat belt, open the left front door, slide underneath the airbag, and into the grass. There is more than one explanation for this too, but I truly don't believe I would have been able to think as quickly as I did, or at all, if I didn't hear Bob's voice inside of my head. I believe Bob was watching over me, helping me escape from that car.

I could keep on "talking," giving you more examples, but I know you "get" it. I'm not comfortable "talking" about this anywhere but here. I think even my kids would think that I was losing whatever shred of sanity I have left.

I'm so sorry you had to find us, but so glad you did.

Sending you hugs and love, wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB

 

Georgine, Heyhoney, Rose, DEB: I spent this morning rereading all the conversations amongst you and with me on "My husband is gone". I saw this morning a perspective of life that I have slowly but steadily lost over the last five years. Yes, you shared with each other the grief and sadness that pervades our lives, but you also shared the everyday activities of normal life that once meant something to me. When I lost Janet, I lost the ability to appreciate those mundane activities that comprise life. The reality is that, in retrospect, all those mundane activities that comprised my life had meaning because they were lived together with Janet. The ability to appreciate them disappeared with Janet. It has turned out that even the long hours I used to spend in the field and in the woods building things and accomplishing things that I thought were giving me satisfaction and making me proud really only mattered because I knew that Janet would be there at the end of the day to share her day and mine with each other. That is gone and is not replaceable. I see that inherent in your conversations is the acknowledgment of that sadness that we all share but also the spirit of continuing life through the mundane activities of life that can still be appreciated. I don't know if I can or even want to recapture that spirit, but it is clear that you have faced that demon of sadness and stared him down. Whether I can or not remains to be seen, but at least I can see in all of you the possibilities.

I know for sure what triggered my awakening to reevaluate the meaning to me of your conversations. It was Heyhoney's ducks, Fred and Ethel. They brought back some of the happiest times of my life with Janet. She loved animals. She once had two large geese named Lucy and Gabby that she loved so. Her bond with Lucy was a sight to see. Janet would lean her head forward and Lucy would nuzzle her beak into Janet's long hair. I loved watching her happiness. She had two ducks named Quack and Daisy with the same joy. I will always remember the tender care that she provided to the four tiny pink newborn baby squirrels that she recovered from a fallen tree on our land, literally around the clock tending to them with a small bottle for feeding where they lived in a small shelter that I built for them. She raised them to adulthood and released them eventually onto a large live oak. For several days afterward, those squirrels would return to that tree, and Janet could see that they had survived. That was Janet and she was my life.