I want to share a poem my daughter sent me. Maybe Songman could put it to music?

I love you, Deb. I know deep down how
our memories are bittersweet. I'm so
glad you recognize my town, and recall
wonderful memories. The 1st time
Linda & I were here, we had just
gotten married in Las Vegas, without
our parents, who had lifeless marriages,
& didn't share our happiness. Sadly,
Linda got involved with her parent's
care, to our disadvantage. We ended up
BUYING their house, so they could go to a
nursing home. We even had to take care
of their mini poodle. Linda was heartbroken when we had to give the
dog to a kennel, when we hit the road.
After many bad financial decisions, &
inland places, we finally retired to a
place we love. As much as I miss Linda,
I take some comfort that she knew we
were HOME. The plan was she'd join me
after her physical therapy. She died
suddenly in front of me instead. Her
favorite nurse told me she would've
lingered in pain from cancer, had she
lived. I shudder to think I wouldn't have
been able to visit her in the rehabilitation/
nursing home during COVID. I have to
take comfort in that she was able to
talk with me --briefly--- before she died.
I'm so sorry you had tears streaming
down your face. Hope you will find a
happier place, & make a fresh start. Lou

 

Lou,

No need to be sorry!!! I enjoy reading about your small seaside town. It brings back some memories I thought I had forgotten about (if this makes sense!). As you said, memories are bittersweet, but there is no way I want to ever forget the very best days of my life, so many of them spent with the one true love of my life. I miss
my husband so much... Although I know rationally he is never coming back, in my heart, it's so difficult for me to believe... to accept this.

I know there is a reason why he was taken from me so soon. Like Linda, had my husband survived that last night/early morning in the ER, he probably would been in pain with no chance of recovery. Also, Parkinson's would have stripped him from his memories, his thoughts, from everything that made him who he was. Although it's difficult for me to say this, especially because my husband didn't want to die, and fought so hard to "be on the right side of the dirt," as he always said,
and because he fought as hard as he could, right up until the very last minute, I'm relieved that God decided it was time for him to leave me. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing him suffer so much, with all that would have been left is just a "shell" of who he was.

I can't even begin to imagine how painful it must have been to watch the love of your life die right in front of you... I wasn't allowed to remain with my husband until the end. I didn't get to say goodbye to him. His last moments were anything but peaceful. It scares me, and makes me so sad to imagine what his last memories of being here were like for him... I don't think the memories I have from that last night/early morning, spent in the ER, will ever fade. I hope someday they won't invade my mind as often as they do now. Backing up just a bit, it's nice that you and Linda had a chance to talk, even if it was only briefly, before she passed away. I'm glad it brought you a little comfort.

Linda was a very loving, caring, compassionate woman, to sacrifice where she wanted to live, and her own "dream" house. I can tell how deeply you loved Linda, and still do, because you were willing to make this same sacrifice to help her parents. I'm happy that you and Linda were finally able to find the town of your dreams, and that Linda knew the two of you were "home." You are truly living in a very beautiful, special town.

I made my first big financial decision yesterday without my husband. I know it's the right decision for me, but I couldn't help wondering what my husband would have thought. As I was making this decision, I talked to my husband as though he were here, with me. I know it sounds crazy, but it actually helped. Today, before I talked with my CFP, and began to put my new financial plan into action, I second guessed myself, even though I know I'm doing the right thing. I wanted so much, for my husband just to tell me he thinks this is a good idea too. As always, I had to grab a box of tissues. Tonight I feel a bit stronger, knowing that I can take charge of my life on my own. The reason why I mentioned this is because I want to move more than anything. Hopefully this plan will provide me with more income than I would have had, making it easier for me to move when the timing is right.

I hope you will continue to share stories about your beautiful seaside town with all of us.

As always, sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace.

 

Deb, I love your long, moving replies to me. It's almost like we're talking on the
phone.As I've mentioned, Linda fell from
her bed in a jhorrible upside down way.
She was trying to get on her wheelchair to
go to the common room to see puppies.
We had done this before. Again, this was
bittersweet. The one dog we owned, we
had to give up. When a puppy licked her,
with unconditional love, Linda cried, &
she didn't cry much. She had an
unhappy childhood. When she was 12,
her only sibling, a 10 year old brother,
died from a rare illness. Right before
Linda fell, I asked her if she needed help
from the nurses. She had a grim look of
determination, & didn't answer. When
she fell in that strange way, I asked
again. She said, " I can't talk now, get me a
cold cloth ( for my head)". Then, Linda told me to push the button for help. I did, but
there was no response, bc the nurse left
her station. I ran down the hall. I was
terrified. I told the recreational leader,
who had the puppies, to get nurses. My
last image of Linda, was that her favorite
nurse & others put her in a sitting
position on the floor. She didn't look
right. I went to the front with a PT. I had
called a cab to take me to a store where
I could buy a phone, bc our trackphone
had died. I didn't want to make a decision
without Linda. When all hell broke loose,
& the rescue squad raced down the hall,
I was sobbing with guilt that I had
bothered Linda about the phone. Her PT
put her arm around me. Her nurse told me
quietly that Linda had no pulse. They
tried to revive her on way to ER. I went
into another ambulance to follow her.
I knew it was over. I still have chills
when I hear a siren. When I arrived at the
hospital, the ER doctor told me Linda
was dead. I was numb. I called her
nurse the next day to find out Linda's
last words. As they put her in the
wheelchair, they asked her if she needed
a pillow. She said yes. The nurse called
her name. Her lips turned blue, & she
died from a pulmonary embolism.
When I was at the ER , the doctor
was worried about me & asked if I'd
be OK to take a cab to the winter
motel where I was staying. I said yes,but
2 nights later, the night before
Thanksgiving, I took a cab back to the
ER, for extreme bereavement &
suicidal ideations. I had PTSD, bc I couldn't
get my last image of Linda falling, in a
strange way, out of my mind. I went to
a small psychiatric unit voluntarily for
5 nights. I spent Thanksgiving with 8
other cliebts. They were my "family".
It was better than being alone. I rarely
have that horrible memory, after 2& a
half years. But, like you, I miss my wife
every day. I admire your courage to
make decisions on your own, & to
move and get a fresh start, like I did.
God Bless You. Lou

 

Lou,

I was teary eyed as I read this. There are no words to express how sorry I am that you had to go through this way beyond heartbreaking experience alone. I think I've mentioned this in the past, but even though I was physically alone, at least I had the support of my children by phone. I can't imagine being in the position you were in, alone..., with only medical staff to comfort you..., and still alone..., once you returned to the motel where you were staying.

I am so glad that you were thinking clearly enough to know you needed help. It takes a very strong person to be able to withstand what you did alone, and then to be able to reach out for the help you so desperately needed. I am so glad that you rarely relive the horrible memory of Linda falling. I still can't get the images from that last night/early morning, right before my husband died, out of my mind. The worst images are those of him dead, wrapped in a sheet, the tube still down his throat... I remember not being able to leave him, just hugging him, crying, tears everywhere, telling him how much I love him, over and over again, telling him that someday, we will be together again... I think I wrote about this in one of first threads I started. It's constantly on my mind. However, you are giving me hope, that someday, these horrible memories won't invade my mind as frequently.

Not being as far along in my grief journey as you are in yours, you give me hope, that one day, I will be able to make a new life for myself, and experience happiness again (although it will never be the same without my husband.) I think life will always be, as you said yesterday, "bittersweet," for all of us who have experienced the kind of love that only happens once in a life time.

As always, sending you hugs, wishing you peace, all of us peace.