Saturday Nights are killing me.

Rose, just came home from
another night of dancing past
midnight. I laughed when you
mentioned that funny dance
scene with Travolta & Thurman
in Pulp Fiction. Never saw the
whole movie, but saw that clip
on my Smart Phone. Travolta
put on weight over the years,
and became the bad guy. I like
the opening scene of Saturday
Night Fever, when a young
Travolta is walking down a
NYC street, eating a slice of
pizza. Soon, he's in a club,
and dancing to Staying Alive.
I dance to that, & other disco
tunes, in my apartment before
going out. Funny thing
happened in my usual bar
with a band for dancing. None
of my female dance partners
had arrived. A real dance
song began, & I didn't want to
dance by myself. There was one
couple dancing , and I noticed a
tall blonde dancing by herself
at the end of the bar. Without
hesitation , I waved my hand
toward her to join me, which
she did. We made eye contact,
& smiled, matching our dance
moves. I'm uninhibited, get
lost in the music, & smile, not
caring what others in the
audience might think. Actually,
I've gotten compliments from
both men & women about my
dance moves. BTW, the blonde
towered over me! Lou T.

 

Kim Elizabeth,

Although I've read your posts on this thread, we haven't "met." I'm so very sorry, so very sad that you had to find us, but so very glad you did. Words seem so shallow at times, now being one of them, but since words are all I have, I hope you know how sorry I am that your husband, George, recently passed away. My husband, Bob, died April 11, 2021 at 3:45 a.m. Unlike George, Bob was sick for many years, but it wasn't until the beginning of 2018, that I had to become his full time caregiver. It was the most challenging, difficult "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...

By the time Bob transitioned, he had a specialist for just about every body part. Although he suffered greatly, every time I asked him how he was feeling, he always answered the same way. "As long as I'm on the right side of the dirt, it's a good day." Bob found something to be grateful for each and every day. He made me realize how precious, how fragile, life is. It is a gift to be cherished. A gift that can be taken away from us at any moment. More than anything in this entire world, I want Bob to be proud of me, proud of the person who I'm slowly morphing into, now that he can't be with me (physically). For this reason, I'm doing my best to try to find a new purpose in life, some kind of happiness, and ultimately peace.

Although I've been struggling lots lately, and have been missing Bob more than ever, (if this is even possible!!!), I know I'm in a much better place emotionally, than I was 28 months ago. I believe a big part of the reason why I'm doing so much better is because of TGW (The Grief Warriors), the name Lou gave to our GIC "family," in what seems like a lifetime ago. He named us TGW because we refuse to give up, refuse to stop fighting, and are determined to find ways to live the best lives we possibly can, without the one true love of our lives being able to be with us (physically). This has become my safe place, the place I come to when I need a "virtual" hug, want to share some of my story or "listen" to others tell their stories. Sometimes we give each other advice, but you can take it or leave it, this is a judgement free zone. We will be here for you always, no matter what you decide to do. I'm so glad that this has become your safe place too.

Before I get way off track, and begin rambling on and on and on, something I'm notorious for around here, lol..., I want to tell you that although life will NEVER!!! be the same, will NEVER!!! be as good as it once was, if you do all the hard work grieving forces us to do, eventually, as Robin explained it to all of us, life will become a mix of happy and sad. After 28 months, I've reached this point. My life is now so over the top bittersweet. I hate sounding like a pessimist, but, and this is the last very BIG!!! BUT!!! for now, I think bittersweet is as good as it's going to get. I'll take it. It's so much better than the alternative, TUTTAM!!! (Total Understatement To The Absolute Max), a DEB "original."

When Bob first transitioned, I had trouble concentrating and could no longer retain much of anything I read, except for articles/books on grief. One of the only books I found helpful, "Permission To Mourn," by Tom Zuba, was recommended to us by Lou. Tom Zuba's story is over the top heartbreaking. His 18 month old daughter, his wife, and one of his sons, passed away, at different times. The book is short, easy to read, and is filled with excellent advice. Tom Zuba wrote that in order to heal (I no longer believe we heal, so I substitute heal, with moving forward), we must tell our story to everyone who will listen, repeat it as often as necessary, until there comes a day when we just can't repeat it another time. (It is important to remember that the timeline for moving forward is different for each one of us.) By coming here, sharing your story with us, you've already taken a big step forward. You ARE!!! moving forward...

It's important to cry as much, and as long, as necessary, allow yourself to feel all the pain... In our society, people are uncomfortable talking about death. We're considered strong if we hide our feelings, and continue on as if nothing has happened. In reality, the opposite is true. It takes all the courage and strength we have, to tackle our feelings head on, to let ourselves feel the total heartbreak that only those of us who have had the one true love of our lives die, can possibly understand. Not only are you doing this, but you are providing comfort and support for others, even though George's death is so very recent. You are a true GW!!!, TUTTAM!!!

Some of the things that have helped me move forward in this miserable journey (for lack of a better word), is visiting our GIC "family," reading and rereading pages in "Permission To Mourn," (I kept a copy of it on my nightstand for many months), getting as much fresh air and exercise as I possibly can, enjoying all the beauty in nature that God has created, adopting my dog, Skye, my furry little angel, who has forced me to get into a routine, has given me a purpose in life, and has provided me with zillions of doggie kisses and unconditional love, my friends from "home" (I'm originally from MA, and will always think of MA as my home), who I talk to as often as I possibly can, a friend who used to live several blocks away from me in SC, who I met while Bob was very sick (she is also a widow), and has become my closest in person friend, and being gentle with myself on days when all I want to do is pull the covers over my head, and cry...

While I don't believe that we heal, I believe that we get used to living without the (physical) presence of the one true love of our lives. Just as our lives will always be so very bittersweet, I believe that we will always be lonely. It's a kind of loneliness that will NEVER!!! go away. It can't. George, Bob, and everyone else's one true love of his/her life, can't (physically) come home. In spite of this bittersweet existence, this always present loneliness, I have lots of lol moments, have fun spending time with friends and neighbors, and enjoy lots of quality time with Skye. Life can be good, even in this over the top, bittersweet, lonely world, we've been thrown into.

I've had to deal with some challenging situations in the 28 months since Bob transitioned, the reason why it's taken me so long to introduce myself to you. However, from the time I read your first post, I've been including you in my daily prayers. It's so nice to finally have a moment to "talk" to you.

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

 

Hello everyone,
I’m sorry I have been AWOL. My mom has had a horrific summer, starting with a stroke and several falls after that. It has sucked up all of my time.

She’s been sent home too early, which I understand happens very often, and she struggled. She couldn’t get from her wheelchair to the bathroom, and she couldn’t get into bed, so we have been tag-teaming to help her. So long story short I am sorry I haven’t been able to keep up with everyone and everything that is going on in your lives and grief journey. I’m sorry and I hope to be back soon. Mom’s been moved to a rehab facility (it’s a wing in a nursing home, but she doesn’t want me to call it that) and it’s been a bit of a struggle. They don’t have enough staff. I’m back to teacher workshops, home and then heading to see mom. Love, hugs, and comfort to all. I do appreciate your kindness to me in this wilderness as my mom’s condition deteriorates. Peace to all of you. ❤️

 

Deborah, so sorry to hear about
your mother's rapidly declining
health. As my Linda used to say
sadly, as she, too , was going
downhill, "it sucks getting old".
Your mother sounds like Linda.
who had to be in a rehab unit
in a nursing home for PT. She
detested term , nursing home,
bc most of the patients were in
their late 70s, 80s, & 90s. Linda
was only 68 when she died,
after trying so hard to walk ,
undergoing PT. My prayers are
with you, Deborah, and your
dear mother. Lou

 

Deb,

No need to apologize ever!!!, TUTTAM!!! I'm so very sorry that it's been such a rough summer for both you and your mother. I'm including your mother in my daily prayers... Sending you the BIGGEST!!! virtual hug all the way from TUTTAMVILLE.

Sending you and your fur babies, lots more hugs, much love, and wishing you peace, all of us peace. DEB & Skye Queen

 

WOW, DEB.You never cease to
amaze me with your long
"books". You were good natured
when I called them that. I know
you don't accept compliments
easily, but I consider you a true
leader on Grief in Common
( GIC). I'm always moved and
proud when you give me credit
for the phrase , The Grief
Warriors (TGW),to describe us,
and that I recommended books
like Tom Zuba's. The first
people to greet me on here were
Patti , of your state of South
Carolina, and Karen, of
California. I've also become
close to 2 brothers here: Gary,
from Indiana, and George, from
Illinois. We recently welcomed
a 4th brother, Bruce ( "Kelso").
Kim Elizabeth was helping him.
but I think her double shift as a
nurse, on top of her own grief
over her husband's death , is
too exhausting to be on GIC as
much as she'd like. I noticed
that she lives in Massachusetts
also, and I asked her about
where( without getting too
specific).Kim Elizabeth is very
compassionate like you, DEB,
and just reached out to a very
young mother in Georgia,
Mommy of 389. Kim Elizabeth
lives in Massachusetts, like I do,
and you did in your life with
Bob & your children. Now , we
may have another Ma.
resident,Derry,whose husband,
Dan, died about the same time
as Kim Elizabeth's. Time to
sign off & go to bed early
tonight. Like new member ,
Bruce( "Kelso"),I had dreams of
people I didn't know, last night
and woke up tired this am.
Pleasant dreams for all of us. Lou

 

DEB, Your words express so well the emotions and struggles that I also face. While I groped for a "new purpose in life, some kind of happiness, and ultimately peace", I seemed to encounter only a stubborn maze of blind alleys and discouragement. Again borrowing your words, it left me with a "bittersweet existence" along with that "always present loneliness". I eventually came to the conclusion that you alluded to in your last paragraph. I don't believe that we heal, and I learned to accept life without the (physical) presence of Janet. I will always be lonely, the kind of loneliness that NEVER goes away.

However, what I learned in the merciless process of grief is also alluded to in your words, namely, the word "physical" used in parentheses to describe presence, leaving open the interpretation of "physical" presence to mean "spiritual" presence. While Janet is not with me physically, she is with me spiritually. I have experienced undeniable spiritual encounters with Janet, and I know that she is still with me. I don't mean to sound presumptuous, but I hope your words mean that you have experienced the same with Bob. Moments that I have experienced with Janet are what keep me going. The anticipation of experiencing future moments with Janet have become my "ultimate peace". I still have my share of blind alleys of sadness and tears, but when I need it most, her spiritual presence is my reward for patience. She will unexpectedly be there when I need her most. I hope that you have shared irreplaceable spiritual moments with Bob to alleviate the loneliness that you feel and some way or another that you find the "ultimate peace" that you seek. Jeff.

 

I'm Thomas and I'm new here. It's a Friday and the worst day of the week for me and it's been almost 11 months since losing the love of my life, Mitzi, on that terrible Friday night. The weekends continue to be quite a struggle for me. Even in retirement, the weekends are a terrible struggle because they are not routine for me. The world turns during the week, and this is where Mitzi and I found our passion, both of us activists, involved in what was going on in the world and we were tireless in our effort. The world continues to turn and with each new cause or challenge I ache for the sharing and the participation together that made our lives whole. There isn't anything that replaces a loss like that. The weekends are mostly just an existence now, not fulfilling as they used to be. I struggle sleeping and really focusing on anything of substance. I'm meticulous in most things I do and I'm not kidding when I tell you all the daily chores are done, and done without shortcuts before 9 a.m. That leaves a lot of time wandering around trying to find something I need to do. I'm really in trouble if it rains on weekends. What I need is for the world to turn, like it always does during the week. It can be an agonizing wait.

 

Lost Thomas.. Your words have been more or less my life for Three horrible years since I lost my Valerie.

 

3 years? Eyepilot13? I'm so sorry to read this. I have been reading up on posts as I'm new here and notice alot here are a few years into their loss. All your stories are heartbreaking. It is helping me already being surrounded by so many who have lost so much. It is hard though to hear that for some, years in, the pain is still so sharp. I suppose each of our emotions and each of the consequences from our loss are going to take a long time to arrive at a place where maybe some peace can be found. This feeling of being stuck, of being in this limbo of what do I do now, this feeling that I'm waiting for something....not sure what...these are the feelings I hope one day will transform into a "peace of mind" for me. Every morning when I wake I want to scream, I think when I'm sleeping my mind is in a very tense place, I can feel the tension and aches in my body when I wake. I can't even quiet the thoughts while sleeping.
LostThomas, your life sounded so abundant with the love of your life, can you not try to continue your and Mitzi's activist passions on the weekend? It would honor her and keep her "with" you during the difficult weekends.

 

It's three years since I knew she was dying... 33 months to be exact. I do not know myself anymore but I keep trying to get through every day. I too keep waiting for some peace and acceptance and healing.

 

I am so sorry eyepilot13. I lost my husband to cancer as well. I actually believed I could save him after I had read books on radical remissions and success stories by drastically changing his diet to foods that specifically help fight cancer.
I believed he was going to live even on the last morning. Even after seeing what the cancer was reducing him to. I believed even when the palliative doctor and nurses came to our home. I think I believed because my mind was in shock and nothing else but faith registered in my brain.
I am so sorry for what you went through.

 

Good Evening Cancer my name is Janice. I am so very sorry for your loss. I lost my husband thirteen months ago. I wish I could tell you it get easier but a day never goes by that I don't expect Tom to walk in the room. I have been trying to make my life come more together. There are so many things to do and decisions to make. May I say that Faith has gotten me through some of the hardest nights. Sometimes I shout at God, why did you take him from me other times I just sit and try to come up with any answer. Grief gets less over time but it never completely goes away we just need to adjust our life and go on with the help of loving' compassionate friendships. You have come to the right place.

 

It's not like this forever. I think a gradual change occurs when grief becomes more familiar. Life shocks you less after the 'first time...' living without our beloveds in our lives. We'll find something that makes us smile. And I sit on the kitchen floor a lot. 2 years later and I find myself frequently in that grief spot. And I have a beautiful garden. Kenn's death is 2 years ago tomorrow, I feel everything and I feel nothing. I feel Grief.
Grief ebbs and flows on a rolling sea and in crashing waves.. but the shock wears off. And you get less stuck. This moment is not forever, it's a moment in the labyrinth of grief you're in. You can do this. ~Bernadine

 

POULTRY KORNER!!!
I have the always grief.. and then I am scared,
Scarred.. Battle Damaged by 58 hard years and I truly have NO-ONE I now realize
Winterz Here in Centraa (ShitCago!)
I hate the cold and what will I do when my car gets buried in Snow and I can't get to my Cosmick elecktric Kidney Machine
I'll get to Say hello to Valerie! I 'spose!
There is no real help for me I realize...
But then again maybe I deserve this fate?!
But then again let us send Trillions of Phony Dollars to save "Democracy!"
But then again... We have little power
Do we even want this magick Power!?

 

We need to get you a cluckin' machine of your own. Cluck the cold.

 

I don't much care for the Cold! Chicken-Machine indeed! 5G enabled cosmick chicken I can cluck on my phone! (If I hadda phone!) Haw

 

It's the beautiful words from you and others on this forum that penetrate the silence that daily life has become. Thank you.

 

Thank you Bernadine.