Not Liking This Life Without My Wife/Soulmate/Lover/Best Friend

I lost my wife of 37 years on December 11th. She was 59. She died the day after our anniversary. I was with her and holding her hands as she looked into my eyes and breathed her last. It was so hard seeing her die. She had been in the hospital since the end of October. She went into the hospital with a severe urinary tract infection, but had her first heart attack in the hospital bed a few days later. She underwent several procedures where they put in stents, but she kept having heart attacks until her heart was only functioning 25% and hospice was recommended. 2 days after she went to hospice, she died. I'm glad I was able to be with her in the final moments, but seeing her take those last gasping breaths plays over and over again in my mind. I will never forget those final moments.

We had no children because she had a lot of health problems throughout her life. If I were to go into details of all we went through over the years, it would be a long book. But she had a great outlook on life and never complained and neither did I. I was blessed to have her. I have no family and now that she is gone I'm completely alone. A lot of people will tell me that I'm really not alone when I mention that. They all say she is watching over me and I have friends. But having her with me spiritually and as wonderful it is to have good friends, it is not the same as having my wife living again with me. I'm alone. That's the cold hard fact.

The first two or three weeks after she died were hard, but it got much harder for a few weeks after that. I would break down and sob several times a day. It has only just started getting a little better for me emotionally in the past couple of weeks. Yesterday marked the 13th week since she died. 3 months have gone by. Although I'm not breaking down and sobbing like I was a few weeks ago, I'm still trying to get used to this life alone. I don't believe I'll ever "get used" to it. Our dog died 2 months after my wife died. I just got a rescue dog last weekend that I'm fostering now, so I went a month without either another person or animal in the house with me. The silence, especially at night, was deafening. This little rescue dog is helping some. Having him forces me to go for short walks around the neighborhood and he is a nice companion. People tell me it is great that I have him to keep me company -- and it is -- but it doesn't really change the feeling of loneliness and longing to go back to when my wife's health was better and the happier times I shared with her.

This is Saturday night when I am writing this. I really hate Saturday nights and the weekends since my wife died. I am 61 and have not retired yet, so during the week days I stay busy with work. I've tried to develop a routine of different things to keep myself occupied with things after work until it is time for bed. Walk the dog, make myself dinner, pray the Rosary (I'm Catholic), do some reading, and attend various things going on with my church and various groups that I belong to. Saturdays I try to stay busy, but when Saturday night comes I'm always finding it hard. We used to go out to dinner every Saturday night and had our weekend routine of things we would do on Saturday and Sunday. All of that is gone now. I've tried to do a few things on my own, but I end up thinking about times I was doing those things with her and it just makes me feel even worse. I occasionally have had the opportunity to have dinner with a friend here and there on a Saturday, but that is rare and most of the time it is like it is tonight where I'm just sitting here at home alone and wishing my wife were still with me, even if all we were doing was watching TV together.

Only 2 weeks after she died, I had someone tell me I had to quit feeling sorry for myself and someone else tell me I need to "move on". These were friends and I know their remarks were well intentioned, but sometimes people don't know what to say to a grieving person so they say insensitive things like that. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I can't help it if I miss my wife after 37 years of marriage and I'm now feeling the cold harsh reality of being completely alone. "Move on", "don't feel sorry for yourself", right. Easy to say for people who have never experienced the loss and pain of loosing a spouse like I have and I know a lot of people on this site have. I have read some of the other posts and, although I hate to know there are others feeling the way I feel, it helps to know there are others who know exactly what I'm talking about and have a good idea of what I'm feeling.

I hope if anyone reads this post and is feeling the way I'm feeling they will take some consolation to know they are not alone. It is something a lot of us are having to deal with as we learn how to adapt to this new life without our spouse. I tell people that it is like a part of my soul has been amputated. It really is. The thought of maybe living for another 20 or 30 years, which could happen since I'm only 61, like this is hard to fathom. I can't think about that. I have to take one day at a time. None of us knows how long we will have. If someone had told me this time last year that I would be a widower in a year, I wouldn't have believed it. But here I am. Maybe this time next year I'll be gone too. Worrying about the "what ifs" will only make the present difficulties even harder.

 

Affirmation - YouTube

 

I am so sorry for the loss of your wife, and then your dog. Thank you for sharing your story. Everything you mention and all your feeling resonates with me. Everything in my life changed immediately two years ago when I lost my husband suddenly to a massive heart attack. He was taken from our beautiful life together of 41 years in two hours, with no warning. We ran a business together and were together 24/7, life as we knew it was gone in an instant. I’m sorry you’ve had people say such insensitive things. People don’t understand the amount of pain unless they’ve gone through it.
You’re right to try to stay busy and keep your mind occupied. It’s definitely a long bumpy journey, so many ups and downs. Live one day one hour one moment at a time. I know hearing people say you’re not alone or she’s with you, watching over you etc. but it is true, our loved ones are part of us and helped meld us into the people we are today. They are within us.
I’m sorry you don’t have children or family, but you have a whole community of people here to read and share stories with. And your new companion to keep you company and get you outside.

 

RLC helped save my life.

 

William Lathrop - YouTube

 

Thank you for sharing that song. It is moving.

 

Thank you for your reply, RLC. I'm sorry for your loss too. It sounds like you know what I'm going through. I went to the Cemetery today for my weekly visit. I had a better week this past week with my emotions and thought I was doing better. But when I got to the cemetery it all went to pieces. I went through a whole package of tissues. I've learned to always bring tissues with me whenever I go there or anywhere where my emotions can flare up. For some reason, all my sorrow came rushing back on me today. It started before I even got to the crypt. I was just making my way to it when I started looking around at all the graves and the crypts. The cemetery has these big Mausoleum groupings of crypts. I'm not sure what they are called, but it is like a big solid block building made of crypts. They are stacked 6 high, so it is like a 2 story building and there are probably 30 or so crypts in each row. As I was approaching, I was looking at all the crypts and the huge graveyard and I just thought of the unimaginable amount of sorrow and pain all those deaths represented. I passed a niche that I could tell was freshly occupied and I noticed that it was for a husband and wife and they both had birth years close to mine and my wife's and his death year was not yet assigned but hers was 2021. I felt so bad for him, knowing here was someone else about my age that is going through the same thing I'm going through. I said a prayer for him. I know you are right that she is with me. I sit and talk to her every week when I visit the crypt and talk to her a lot around the house and even when I go shopping. Mostly when I'm shopping and I see things I used to buy for her I start telling her how I wish she were still here for me to buy her her favorite things. I say good night to her and my deceased parents as the last thing I do before going to sleep every night.

 

Our Story

Janet and Bill


My Beloved wife Janet lost her earthly battle against brain cancer on October 18th, 2019 at 8:40 in the morning. I was at her side, as I was every minute of every day for over a year. Janet was the bravest, and most caring human being that I have ever known. Despite all the pain and physical challenges she faced every day, she was always more concerned about how I was doing. Are you OK? was always the first thing out of her mouth every morning. She knew she was dying with no hope of recovery, but she always put my welfare first.

If, with your permission I can now turn back the clock to January of 2019, I will continue with OUR story.

Janet started having problems with her balance early in January and would fall on occasion. After several trips to the emergency room, she was finally examined by an on-duty brain surgeon who ordered an immediate CT-scan. They discovered a rapidly growing tumor near the area of the brain that controls sight. She had been having a lot of problems with her peripheral vision, and they had to be extra careful if any surgeries were planned, because of the risk for blindness. Despite the danger and because of the urgency, surgery was scheduled the next morning. They drilled a hole in the back of Janet’s skull and tried to carefully vacuum out the cancer. They failed to get it all, due to the close proximity of the vision area of the brain and the tumor. They then tried radiation treatments (5 days a week for 16 weeks). At this point we still had a glimmer of hope, which was soon dashed when, after the radiation treatments, we were told there were no other pathways to a successful result, and my beloved Soulmate Janet was going to die... There was nothing we could do now but to accept what they predicted.

We were then transferred to hospice care and I assumed the role of full-time caretaker, but she could, at least, stay at home. After a few weeks Doctors decided that Janet should go on 24-hour bedrest with a catheter and all (she hated that catheter) At that point, I had lost 50 pounds, and my clothes no longer fit, but Hospice still allowed me to move into Janet’s room and to sleep in a chair that folded out into a makeshift bed so I could continue to be close to her 24/7.

When I was caring for Janet at home, she slept in a recliner in our living room, and I crashed within arm’s length of her on the corner of the couch next to her chair, so I could be available to help her to the bathroom, or if she needed assistance for anything. I never left her side, nor did I want to. Her nearness gave me strength. The Hospice volunteers and staff became our family. I will be forever grateful for their kindness. As time passed, it became more difficult for Janet to chew and swallow her food, so I had to cut up her food and spoon feed her, and eventually, she could only eat pudding or yogurt. I will never forget the grateful look in her eyes when I fed her. That look is one of my most cherished memories. Janet has contacted me since she passed, and I feel her presence often, and her reactions to unseen entities has inspired me to write several songs. She has mentored me from beyond this physical life every single day, and I know I will be with her again when my time on earth is over. The day I first met her was the luckiest day of my life.

We listened to music together all the time.” Adagio for Strings” by Samuel Barber and Donny Hathaway’s “A Song for You” played while she died. I love and miss her so much it’s impossible to describe. I have learned to exist without her, but I still grieve the loss of US/WE as a pair. I wouldn’t be writing this if not for music, and the written word, which saved me. (Thank you Joanie)

 

We help each other Bill. We got each other’s back. Life long friends.

 

Online Recording Studio - Collaborate with World-Class Musicians (studiopros.com)

 

Thank you, for your kind words and thoughts. Afraid I probably do know what you’re going through. I don’t want others to feel this gut wrenching pain, yet here we are. We never know when or what will cause the heart wrenching emotions, but it happens to us all. There was a time I said I should buy stock in tissues. I agree that the cemetery can bring so many emotions. It can be a place of peace and calm and time to reflect or just so sad and lonely feeling. Going in stores that we always shopped in together always have such an effect on me. At first I stayed away from the men’s department because I have no one to buy for any more. Then departments he liked shopping in and then departments he would buy things for me in. So yeah, the whole store can be a difficult experience. But talking to her is good, I talk to Ron all the time and it’s so helpful. Things feel worse as evening falls, and sleep can be so difficult. You’re just starting this journey, take things slow and expect many ups and downs. And eventually the special and wonderful memories might bring a smile rather then tears. It will eventually be easier to reflect, but it all takes time. Our loved ones are with us forever. Like you, I tell Ron how much I miss him and love him each night as I try to go to sleep. I pray he knows how much he’s missed. Don’t push yourself too much.

 

Thank you for sharing your story Bill. And for sharing the link to the recording studio. I read your story on the Online Recording Studio site and listened to the God and Me song they helped you produce. It really sounds good.

I have had a similar experience with weight loss. By the time Debbie died, I had lost about 60 pounds and had the same problem you mentioned with all my clothes being way too big now. Although the way I lost weight is not what I would choose, I was overweight and now I'm about the weight I was over 40 years ago when I was in my 20's. I've been keeping it off too. My doctor took me off cholesterol medicine that I had been on for over 20 years when I saw him a few weeks ago. He doesn't think I need it anymore with my weight loss and my blood work readings. My appetite and eating habits are a lot different now that I'm alone. I used to enjoy cooking dinner for the two of us, but now I have no desire to cook like I did and no desire to eat very much when I do eat. I miss making meals for us and going out to eat on the weekends, especially on Saturday nights. Making meals and eating is just out of necessity now and not something that brings any enjoyment to me.

Debbie's health was starting to decline before the pandemic hit, but after everything went into lock down last March and we started to isolate ourselves, it seemed that her health started to decline even faster. She had chronic urinary tract infections that kept sending her to the hospital. She also had a lot of problems with falling due to a condition where her blood pressure would drop when she would stand up. I had to call 911 and she was hospitalized on numerous occasions due to her passing out and falling. It would terrify me every time she would pass out and fall. She had a sub dural hemotama on the brain (aka a brain bleed) from one of the falls, shattered her femur on another occasion, and broke ribs on several occasions. The urinary infections got so bad that they sent her home from the hospital in September with the catheter still attached and the doctor thought he was going to have to do an operation to give her a permanent catheter. So I'm familiar with the catheter experience you mentioned your wife dealt with. The operation never happened, because she ended up going back in the hospital a couple more times until she finally started having heart attacks and the urinary problem was superseded by the heart problem. The UTIs were also affecting her brain function and she would just kind of go into a zoned out state at times. I had no idea when the paramedics took her to the hospital on October 28th after she had gotten into one of those zoned out states and was unresponsive to me that she would never be coming home again. She was in the hospital six weeks until she died. I am so thankful we live in Florida and not in some other part of the country that didn't allow visitors in the hospital or the hospice. She had been hospitalized a couple times for a week at a time early on in the pandemic and I wasn't allowed to visit her. But the hospitals down here were allowing one family member a day to visit by the end of October, so I'm very grateful for that. I know so many people have lost loved ones during the pandemic and couldn't be with them due to the hospitals not allowing visitors. I am incredibly thankful that was not the case for us.

Debbie and I were (I still am) devout Catholics. There are a few things that happened that seemed divinely arranged for her. There is a devotion called the Devine Mercy Chaplet that we would pray at 3PM on days when we were not at work. The Catholic TV station EWTN broadcasts the chaplet, which is prayed as song with music and we used to like to tune into that and pray it in song along with the video. The day before she died, which was our anniversary, our parish priest was able to come to the hospice and gave her the anointing of the sick, also known as last rites or apostolic pardon. The Devine Mercy Chaplet was playing softly on EWTN in the background as the priest was praying for her. It was beautiful. The next day, EWTN was broadcasting the Mass. During the Mass, there is a prayer that quotes words from the Bible that the angels in heaven are supposed to be singing all the time to God, which goes Holy, Holy, Holy or in Latin Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus... As Debbie was taking her last breaths, the Mass broadcast was playing softly in the background and I heard them chanting the Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus.. The timing of her passing to coincide with that seemed very special.

Thanks again for sharing your story and music.

 

Thank you RLC.

 

I am beginning to feel the pains each one of you have. I am so sorry for each of you. I hope you can find comfort. My wife's memorial is this Friday. I'm still in shock. I know there is a long road ahead. With the Lord's guidance I will travel it. Take care today and do something nice for yourselves.

 

I kind of feel sorry for those folks who chant "It's time to move on, or get over it". They aren't as fortunate as we are, to have experienced the undeniable eternal love that we have all felt. We will feel that wonder forever, and they will have to wait... if ever... Love conquers all of their outside negativity. Peace to you, and, I pray that you will be strong in your love. We are the lucky ones.

 

The next song will be in a Bossa Nova tempo titled "Can I" similar to "The Girl From Ipanema".

 

I will say a prayer for you, Southern Man. I see you are from Kentucky. My wife was from Louisville. I remember the first time I met her. I was looking at some brochures or something on a display table before a church service and I looked up and this pretty little southern belle was on the other side of the table and said "Hi there!" to me. I was in the Coast Guard and stationed in Florida and she had just graduated from college and moved down here with her parents. She had me hook line and sinker right then and there. 37 years together. Man, I miss her so terribly bad. I was looking at the place at the dining room table where she used to sit this morning and it hit me hard again.

Hang in there, Southern. For me, the first 3 weeks were hard but it seemed like once I got past the three week mark the initial shock turned into a much deeper sorrow and really dark and horrible period of grief. I had several people tell me they were worried about me during that time. I wanted to die. If I didn't have my strong religious beliefs, I don't think I would have got through it. Thoughts of things that would not have been good for me to do crossed my mind, but I didn't allow myself to go down that road. I gradually came out of that and am not as utterly miserable as I was, but I am still missing her crazy bad and wishing so much that life could go back to the way it was. You may go through something similar or maybe not. We all grieve in different ways.

There is something different though when it comes to loosing a spouse. I lost my mother and father in the 90's and it was no where near as painful as this is. And so many things trigger memories and can make the emotions flare up out of nowhere. A couple weeks ago I was in the communion line at Church and as I was making my way forward they started singing one of the songs that was sung at her funeral Mass. "Be not afraid". It was hard trying to maintain my composure as I was hearing that sung and walking up the aisle. Another time, I had gone to the church during the day and as I was leaving the hurst from the funeral home had pulled up and I saw the funeral director that handled my wife's funeral. They were getting ready to have a funeral Mass for someone. Seeing the funeral director and the hurst and knowing that someone else was starting to go through what I'd been going through stirred up my emotions. I've always been empathetic to the suffering of others, but now that I have had the unwanted privilege of knowing what it is like to loose my wife, I'm particularly touched when I hear of anyone who is joining me on a similar journey.

What helped me get out of the severe dark period I went through was just being able to share my feelings openly with friends who cared about me. I wish I had discovered this web site back then, because I definitely would have been using it too. My church and the hospice offered bereavement counseling, which I am using through the one my church is offering. They use a licensed counselor and she has given me some advice on things to do to help. But more than anything I am blessed to have a lot of friends at my church who really care about me. People had me over for dinner, took me out to breakfast, called me and corresponded with me over email. And are still doing all those things. As horrible as everything has been, it would have been magnitudes worse if I hadn't had any friends to give me the support they did and are continuing to provide me. And now that I've found this site I hope I can be of some help to others.

You said with the Lord's guidance you'll travel the road ahead. I encourage you to hold onto that and remind yourself of that, Southern Man. When the really dark time comes, it can be easy to loose sight of that. But you have to remind yourself. My friends were constantly reminding me of that. As a Catholic, we believe in something called "The communion of saints", which is taken from the book of Hebrews in the Bible where it says we are surrounded by "a great cloud of witnesses". We believe our loved ones who have gone to heaven before us aren't just up there watching us from that cloud, but are praying for us too. I ask her every day to pray for me and I'm sure my wife is praying for me as I'm going through these trying times. Your wife will be praying for you too. Till death do us part, but only physically. As Song Man wrote in his post today "...to have experienced the undeniable eternal love that we have all felt. We will feel that wonder forever..." We will feel it forever and there will come a day when we will all be together again and there will be no more tears and no more suffering. That is the hope we can cling to that can help us get through each day.

Know that I'll be thinking and praying for you especially this Friday as your beloved is laid to rest.

 

Hello. I just joined this group and have not really posted much yet. I just wanted to tell you that I am sorry for your loss (losing your wife and then your dog in such a short period of time had to be brutally cruel!). I was inspired to respond to you because of the brainless comments that some people made to you "move on" - "stop feeling sorry for yourself". I am sure most people don't know what to say ....... but they feel they must say something. Which is totally wrong! The best thing anyone can say is "I'm am so sorry" and, "let me know if you need someone to talk to", IF they are really willing to be there for you and just listen. I lost my husband of 37 years, 2.5 years ago. And while I am not feeling sorry for myself, I have parts of my life that I still have not "moved on" with. Hence, my reason joining this group.

People who make insensitive comments like you mentioned, do NOT know what the loss is like. You don't replace a person like a piece of furniture! The "firsts" ....... first birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, anniversary, are all VERY difficult. And, I was surprised to learn that for many people the second year of grief is also very difficult because you are no longer as busy with paperwork, donating clothing/items and re-establishing your life as a single. Anyway, big hug to you and I can tell you personally that loss DOES get better for most people, in small increments.

 

Thank you Loki. The other day someone told me the same thing you just did about the second year being even harder than the first. It will be 4 months this Friday. Her birthday is coming up in early May and I've been thinking about that. I don't know how I'm going to handle that day when it comes. Christmas and Valentines Day was hard, although I had friends to be with on Christmas day. A few days ago, someone who is also a widower for a number of years told me he had to "re-invent himself". I attended a widows webinar yesterday and the speaker said the same thing. She was making the point that when we got married, we became a different person than when we were single and now that we've moved from being married to being widowed we are different persons from what we were when we were married. I know we are not actually different people, but I understand the point she and the other widower that talked about being re-invented mean. I guess I've been resisting that, but I'm starting to think I should probably consider what they said if I ever want to feel better. This is so hard.