My wife passed away 4 weeks ago. We were married for 38 years and together for 39. It was a second marriage for both of us and I struck gold when I met snd married her. She had two young boys who are now adults and who I adopted many years ago. One of my sons has special needs and lives at home with me as his sole parent now. 18 months ago my wife was diagnosed with Myelodysplastic disorder high risk. She went through several rounds of chemo before reaching remission and then got a stem cell transplant in December of 2022. We were so full of hope that she would be cured or at least have several more years! As time went on she had a number of side effects and because of that went past the deadline for the trial maintenance chemo. In August we got the devastating news she had relapsed to Acute Myeloid Leukemia. Through all of this she hoped to have time left to spend the holidays and to be with us. The disease had other ideas. It progressed very quickly and he ended up spending most of September in the hospital. After a few days at home she was readmitted and there was no hope. She died Sept. 27th we me holding her hand and stroking her hair. Her last words to me were her signing "I love you" to me. We had a mostly wonderful 39 years together. We are simple people and worked on our home, planted our gardens, took short trips and a couple of longer ones, raised the boys, and got together with the few friends we had. Doris loved crafts, gardening, and making a big deal of the holidays. I ran a small business and did the paperwork, the research, the online stuff. She was the doer and I was the nerd. We had a great partnership and loved each other very much. The name Gladlover is meaningful because she loved Glads and Dahlias among other flowers. Now I am lost without her. I'm trying to stay strong for our special needs sons sake but it is hard. I see her everywhere in this house as we were together a lot through Covid and all the time through her illness. I'm mostly retired and I'm home a lot. Even if I go for a ride there are lots of memories of places and things we went and did together. Friends were good for a while but they seem to have moved on. Even though there is really nothing anyone can say that will make it better. I'm just so lonely for her.
I'm sorry for your loss. You're in the right place though. People that havnt been through the same type of loss do move on and feel that you should do the same. When you've lost a apart of yourself it's hard to move on. Take one day at a time. Let your kids be your motivation especially the one that depends on you. It's been 3 years since I lost my Gant. I've gotten stronger ro feel with it on most days but some days especially ones close to holidays or our kids bdays are hard. My daughter bday is coming up right before Thanksgiving..then Thanksgiving and Christmas. I still pray for strength each day. I pray for yours too. Take it one day at a time, get as much fresh air as possible. Reach out anytime.
Your last moments with your wife hit me hard. My wife was stricken with cancer and died in my arms as I lifted her from the bed into her wheelchair. Remember and cherish those last moments. They will mean more than you can imagine right now. So sorry for your loss and the grief that you must endure.
I am so sorry for your loss. We were blessed I think to have that closeness and to comfort them as they passed. Taking care of the one you love through an illness brings a special kind of closeness. One shares their highs and lows and shares their good times and their suffering. Now that they are gone there in an incredible void in life. Thank you and my sympathy for the loss of your wife.
I am so sorry to read of your loss but I'm so grateful that in this exceedingly tough time for you that you spoke of your life together. That is so important to do. I lost the love of my life almost 11 months ago. I feel like the luckiest man on earth to have had Mitzi in my life. I can share with you that my loss came without warning and was immediate. I know now that I was in shock for a full month, at least. This is going to take some time, a lot of time and I don't think there is a formula that works, expect, genuine empathy coming from others, and that would include a kind, and understanding grasp of the consequences people experiencing loss find themselves facing. It took me several months just to become functional, and I still have challenges with that, but it was oh so hard early on. What helped in the beginning was just sharing what my life with Mitzi meant to me. In those efforts I read a lot from others about their experiences. I learned a lot and I'm confident that you will as well. Just keep reading and when you are ready to share more, and ask questions, do so - just do so. Feeling lost is so hard. I could not have gotten this far were it not for the kindness of another, from another country. People will listen, they will. Thank God for that. Thank you for sharing what kind of flowers your wife loved. That tells me a lot - about you.
Thank you so much for sharing your experience with me. It must be so hard to lose a spouse immediately. Just the not being able to say good bye or "I love you" must be very hard. That is the good thing about a place like this thread. Everybody has different circumstances but the loss effects us similarly. I am trying not to let her illness and her death define her. Before her illness we had decades of a happy marriage. The last year and a half or so was very challenging and it is hard not to remember her heroism in fighting to be with us. Even though her disease and treatments wore her down terribly and took from her the things she loved to do she never quit on trying to live until the very end. When she couldn't talk she signed "I love you". We were tied at the hip through her illness and it is very lonely with her gone. I see so much of her in the son we have at home who we cared for due to his condition. She was the center of all the holiday celebrations at our house and I dread those coming. Thank you for reaching out.
We laid my wife to rest last Friday. For Maine it was a beautiful October afternoon. The sun was brilliant and the temperature was above normal. Just the kind of day my Doris would have loved. The cemetery borders our property and the spot that I chose was right under a tree I can see from our kitchen window. A spot we walked by together many times in our walks in the cemetery. Before we went to the cemetery for her service a dragonfly landed on my shoulder. My love was comforting me. It is 5 weeks today that she left us. The loss is still very raw and I see her everywhere. I do things in the house with the idea she is coming back. I placed the slacks, Sweater, and hat that she was wearing the last time she left home on the bed and that is where it has stayed. I now sleep on the couch because I can't bear to sleep in our bed without her. My son doesn't understand why I cry yet he misses his mother. Sometimes I remember one of our memories and laugh a bit but the tears soon follow because I realize making memories has come to an end. Now the memories I have of her will be all there ever will be.
When Doris was diagnosed with bone marrow cancer our world was turned upside down. Our future became today and though we hoped for a cure we both knew deep down the odds weren't great. I had lost both my mother and father to cancer and Doris had helped care for my mother through her year long illness. Additionally we both had friends who had died from cancer. The thing that tore me apart the most was to see her lose the things she loved to do. Her gardening. Her card making. Shopping for Christmas to surprise our special needs son. Seeing her friends. One marrow cancer gradually robs a person of everything. To satisfy her crafty side she took up adult coloring and did many pictures. When she came home from the hospital in September she was able to color a couple of pictures. One for my son and one which she wrote on the bottom "I love you" in hearts and Xs. 3 days later I hd to take her back to the hospital for the last time. I remember the Wed. night I drove the 15 miles to Portland at 1:30 A.M. in the morning as the doctor had called me to come. The roads were deserted and I felt like I was alone in this world. When hope dies it is the saddest feeling in the world. When I saw my love laying in that bed that night fighting to breathe I knew she wouldn't be with me much longer. My angel tried so hard but it was in vain and though it was killing me inside I couldn't let her see my pain or she would fight more and have more suffering herself. The hardest part was I was always able to help her and protect her but this was one door I couldn't pass through with her. It is like standing on the shore and watching your love drown without being able to help. Now the loneliness grips me and I ask "why"?
Gladlover, I understand your profound grief, but I regret your loss of hope. When my wife died, I lost her physical presence, but not her spiritual presence. If I thought that she was gone forever, I might also have lost hope, but she is still with me, as Doris is still with you. Unfortunately, we are too often quick to dismiss the things that we cannot see, but in so doing, we fall victim to the debunked adage that "seeing is believing". We cannot see the spoken word, the fragrance of a rose, the taste of chocolate, or the sun's rays on our skin, but our senses tell us that they all exist. In the same manner, we cannot see the spiritual world, or heaven, or the presence of God, but most believe that they also exist. How else can you explain those images of "seeing her everywhere", or the memories invoked by that special tree out the kitchen window, or even the love that brings a dragonfly to your shoulder? She is still with you, and her presence in ways unexpected will give you the strength and hope that you need, if you allow yourself that perspective. My wife's last words were, "I will always be with you. Keep me safe in your heart". Noted theologian and scholar, David Jeremiah, attributes these spiritual sensations to what he calls our sixth sense of faith that works just like the other five senses that make us aware of "things not seen", such as the spiritual presence of loved ones. For those of us who trust the guidance of the Bible, Hebrews 11:1 says that "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen". Matthew 5:4 says, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted". These words provide strength and hope for all of us in times of need. Jeff.
Jeff. I believe in God and heaven and the knowledge I will see Doris again someday. We had 39 years together and I know we were blessed to have that together because many get less time together or never find the deep love that we had for each other. I miss her sense of humor, her companionship, making her laugh and smile. The hope I was referring to losing was both of us knowing she had lost her struggle to live and our time in this life would soon be over. Those moments of good bye are so intense in their sadness. The emptiness that follows is equally intense because we who are left behind still have to live in this life without the person we were closest to.
Today was her birthday. She never liked much being made of her birthday but made a lot out of everyone else's. I kidded her often that one year I was going to hire a band to march up our street and play in our front yard. She used to get a kick out of that. Some years we went out but most often we had pizza or sometimes lobster at home. One year my son took a video when we went out and he sent it to me today. It was nice to see her happy and remember the years before Covid lockdowns and then her disease.
I can appreciate your sadness. My precious husband of 46 years died suddenly 12/30/23. I cannot get over this reality. I continue to have panic attacks and feel overwhelmed. I pray that you will continue to be strong.
Thank you for your kind words. You are early in your journey with grief and those early days are very hard. It doesn't really get easier as we travel the road. We just learn to reconcile it better. Some days I live in denial that it happened and then all the moments of that awful day come rushing back. Along the way hopefully we find a purpose. Mine is my son who needs mean who my wife wanted me to care for. That is our bond across eternity now, caring for him.
