It Comes To All

"It comes to all.  We know not when,

or how, or why.  It's always been

a mystery, a frightening thing, 

enshrouded in the silencing.

When suddenly a loved one dies 

we seem to sort of paralyze,

to just stop still within our track.

And oh, how much we want them back."

excerpted from "When A Loved One Dies"

by Dolores Dahl, Suddenly Alone

Mom Has Pneumonia

A couple of days ago my mom aspirated while taking her medication.  She now has pneumonia.

Pneumonia is usually what kills people who are suffering from MSA.  We are hoping she pulls through the pneumonia, but since she is in hospice and doesn't want to be intubated or hospitalized, all the doctors can do is treat her with antibiotics and oxygen.

I know I need to be ready to let her go and I hope that I survive losing her.

But I'm not ready, just like I wasn't ready to lose Jeff.

Living Trust and Will

Once Jeff died, I knew that I needed to create a living trust and will.

It has taken me three and a half years to finally contact a lawyer and get it done.  

It's strange to sit in an office and decide who should get my properties, investments, and belongings when I die.  When you're married, for most of us, it's simple...your spouse gets everything for the most part.  I know there are those of us who are on their second or third marriages with children from previous relationships and of course they don't automatically give everything to their spouse but for me, I was only married once and have no children.

Now I need to decide who is going to get everything I've worked for and achieved my entire life, who is going to execute my wishes, who is responsible for making financial and health decisions for me in case I'm incapacitated, etc.

There are a lot of decisions to make.

When Jeff and I were married, it was simple.  Jeff's name followed every one of those decisions. Before Jeff, my mom was the person I wanted to make all those decisions.  Now that my mom is in hospice, she is no longer an option either.

In four years, I went from having the two most important people to put down as decision makers and emergency contacts, and now I cannot use either one of them.

Three years ago this fact would have devastated me.  Now, I realize that I am so much stronger and I can stand on my own without having the people I automatically fell back on.

This fact of losing Jeff and losing my mom soon also reminds me that I need to be grateful for those I do have in my life that I can depend on to make these decisions.  It makes me sad that I needed to find new people, but it also reminds me that I need to be grateful that I have found these new people.

This all reminds me yet again that life is short, to surround myself with people who are meaningful, that I need to live every day to the best of my ability, and to try to have no regrets.

Some Time To Process

Since my last post, I've had some time to process the fact that people who have been in my life for over 20 years don't want to be my friends anymore.

I've gone through the different emotions of grief, mainly anger and sadness, but overall I've come to realize that I need to stop wasting my time and energy on people who don't love and support me.  I can't make people love me or want to be friends with me.

I'm trying to be as strong as a fellow widow blogger. As The Polished Widow says:

"I have had friends say, while they are happy to still be friends with me, they don’t want to get to know my new husband.

To this I say, if you can’t acknowledge my future, then you don’t have a place in my life.

For friends to say ‘out of respect to Nick’ they don’t want to know John, then it’s their loss, because Nick wouldn’t want that either.

While I understand it may be ‘weird’ for some to see me with someone new, I have managed to be in a place where i’m very comfortable with it, so please don’t project your own insecurities on me."

Even though these people don't want to be friends with me right now, I'm hoping that we will come back to each other in the future, but I've come to accept that we may not and I'm going to have to be ok with that.  I will continue to embrace those who do love me and want to be my friends right now.  That is where I need to spend my time and energy.

Isn't It Ironic

When I first began this blog, I was a  couple weeks out from my husband dying.  At the time, my girlfriends were my saving grace.  My blog's URL does have "girlfriends are the new husbands" in it for a reason.

I find it ironic that I'm sitting here now with puffy eyes from crying most of the night last night over two of my girlfriends who have been purposefully excluding me from group gatherings and activities. These two girls have been my friends for over 20 years.

I have been noticing for the last year and a half or so that these two specific friends, Maria and Judy, have grown distant from me and closer to each other.  Judy voiced her disapproval of me continuing a relationship with Wyoming when I first started getting serious with him a year and a half ago, while Maria hasn't specifically said why she has grown distant.  Maria and Judy are the only two friends of mine that haven't met Wyoming yet.

I had a long phone call with Judy last night and specifically asked her why I'm not invited to the whole group dinner parties, holiday BBQ's, and out of town trips that her or Maria plan.  I still get invited to other events and activities that are not planned by them.  I appreciated her honesty when she said that she feels that I have changed, that she isn't as comfortable around me and doesn't feel the same strong connection as the past.  She blames the change in me on Wyoming.

I told her that I think the change in me is due to the fact that my husband died and not so much on me being in a relationship with Wyoming.  She disagreed and again blamed the change in me on Wyoming.  I said that I wished she would be willing to meet him but understood that she isn't interested.  I told her that I was terribly hurt at the fact that her and Maria were inviting everyone in our group to their activities and events except me.  I feel excluded.  But I also told her that I appreciated her honesty and for taking the time to explain why she is excluding me.

Overall, the conversation was informative and hopefully healing.  There wasn't too much anger or finger pointing.  It was a grown up conversation.  We agreed that things have changed but didn't agree why they changed and as I continue to think about this, I guess it doesn't matter why.

Judy and Maria don't want to be my friends anymore and I can't make people want to be my friend. I'm not going to lie, it's terribly hurtful, especially after all that I've been through in the past three and a half years.

I've lost too many important people to me by death (my husband, my grandma, my uncle, and now my mother is dying) so I'm having a hard time letting go of people by choice who have been important to me.  Losing family members has been out of my control and has been hard on me. Losing friends because they are choosing to leave me is very difficult for me to handle on top of all of the other loss.

I know I need to work on letting go and not holding on to people that don't want to be held on to.  I think this is something that I need to work on in therapy.

I know it's unfortunate, but I must accept that people change and grow apart.  I need to flex and bend to new things and not stay stagnate.  I need to let go of that which does not serve me well.  I must grieve more loss and focus on the positive in my life.

It's ironic that these two girlfriends have been in my life the longest, that I thought would be the girls I grew old with, but it seems that their chapter is coming to an end.

I can only move forward.

Wyoming Anniversary

Wyoming is coming into town this weekend to celebrate our two year anniversary.  It is strange for me to talk about an anniversary with another person, yet it's starting to feel normal.  It's hard fighting my guilt monster.

I guess the best way to say it is the love I have is compartmentalized.  I'm assuming it's similar to how a parent loves multiple children.  I've heard a parent say that they don't think they could love their second child as much as they love their first but once the second child comes along they realize their heart expands, it doesn't push the first child out or minimize the love for the first child.  I said something similar after Jeff died.  I could never love another as much as I loved Jeff.

Jeff holds a place in my heart and Wyoming holds another place.  I don't think about it like Wyoming is replacing Jeff.  It's like my heart expanded and he's still there and now Wyoming has a place next to him.  My heart just got bigger to make room for Wyoming.  It's really hard to put into words.

I've written previously about how I will never love another the way that I loved Jeff and I still stick by it.  I don't love Wyoming the same way I love Jeff.  It's different but it's also kind of the same.

I feel like I love Wyoming in a way that I wasn't able to love Jeff.  The love I had for Jeff was a love I took for granted, a rose colored love that had never experienced anything tragic, like a death.  No one close to me died in the 10 years I loved Jeff.

This love for Wyoming is experienced, it is reflective, it is not taken for granted because I now know from Jeff's death that it is not a given, it is fragile, it can change in a heartbeat.

It is true that I will never love another the way I loved Jeff, but it doesn't mean that I can't love deeply again.

Thank You Laurie!

Even after over three years of Jeff being gone, I still have moments of extreme grief and the guilt of moving forward.  See my previous post called My Guilt Monster Made A Comeback.

When this happens I try to find solace in other widows' stories and advice.  Laurie Burrows wrote a wonderful article that helped bring me comfort recently.  Here is the link and I also copied it below. Hang in there brave widow warriors.  We can get through this together!

The Ultimate Goal In Grief: Embracing A New Life

“Grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape.” ― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

I know that I have absolutely no choice about the path I must walk in grief. I also understand that I do have a choice in how I cope with my grief, and how I adapt to the loss. Many cope by being “loss-oriented” in their style of grief. The loss defines them. It took me a while in my mourning process to select the good style of grief, which is “restoration-oriented.” This type of grief focuses on the loss of Peter, but allows me to rebuild my life. I continue to have moments of sadness and “grief bursts,” but I am working hard at establishing new habits to reduce the power of sadness, so that it no longer overwhelms me. I am choosing to take charge of my life, integrate my lost love into my heart, and move forward to find my new restored existence.

I decided to put this theory into practice. I set up a sheet listing the loss-oriented items on the left side of my paper, and the restoration-oriented ones on the right. On the left, I listed my yearning for Peter, my sadness at looking at his picture, my memories of our life together, my sorrow at not having a partner with whom to laugh, my loneliness, my lack of a husband to help when my meniscus is torn (damn!), and my empty and slightly hamstrung heart. This is the part of grief work that I call the heavy-lifting.

Then on the right side of the paper, I listed the restoration-oriented ideas that help me to move on with my life. and distract me until I can fully cope with my loss. My writing is my savior and a total boost forward in my process. Setting up a website to invite other widows and widowers to talk is a great distractor. My grandkids, period! Cooking a dinner for friends; watching a funny movie (yes, even Bridget Jones Baby made me laugh a little); watching the Acorn TV series A Place to Call Home; walking with a girlfriend; talking to my pals who keep me buoyed with their friendship; popcorn and chocolate ice cream; and finding strength in the fact that I can take care of the finances by myself!

I am sure that a new life will start for me when:

· I will develop new skills, interests, and abilities; as long as it is NOT playing Mah Jongg!

· I will learn to cook beautiful dinners for me, myself, and I.

· I realize that grief is individual and I can choose to go on this journey on my own time table, in my own style, and with the use of humor as a tool. A horse walks into a bar and the bartender says “why the long face?”

· I give myself permission to heal my wounds of grief in a positive fashion. I will try to be positive and cheerlead myself to get through grief.

· I will believe that failure is a form of learning and not get down on myself for “grief bursts.” Self-compassion, Laurie, self-compassion!

· I will be grateful for the love I had, even though I am mourning it deeply. I will try to imagine nostalgia as sweet, and focus not on my deprivation, but on how good it was when our love was alive.

· I will laud my anger for the temporary insanity it brings.

· I will be thankful for the grief that won’t go away, and my fear that it will, and the void that might swallow me up.

· I will appreciate the legacy of kindness that Peter instilled in Nick and now my grandchildren.

· I will celebrate small successes as if they were grand successes.

· I will value living in the now as a precious gift.

· I will refuse to see myself as a victim.

· I will finally fully fathom that Peter would insist that I enjoy the rest of my life.

If I think of the word widow as one letter shy of window, I can look outward through the window of my widow’s soul and move forward into the light again.