Your answer to the daughter “I’ll let you know if it ever happens” about getting over such an enormous loss is ever so true, and I’m honestly proud of you for speaking the words out loud.
We don’t ever get past real grief, we never get over it. The depth of love we have for a person or a beloved pet is equal to the depth of grief we feel when they cross.
What we do is to learn how to carry it with us.
Your beach walk and the purple hydrangea photo are perfect in every way. Some people try so very hard to avoid feeling their grief, but it remains.
Big hugs, Sue. I feel your warm empathy for the family and your concern for the newly widowed lady. I'm sending much empathy back to you. You remind me of how peaceful and calm walking by water is. Perhaps the waves help to calm the stormy waves of grief that rise, raw within us when something stirs our pain.
This brought tears to my own eyes as I think about my own mum. My dad's still around thank goodness. I recall the times a relationship has ended. The texts end. Having someone to share my day with. Someone to call if my car breaks down. The places that were once full become a void as I plunged back into silence. The first little while being the most acute of course. Even now, this read touched the grief of those times, those losses. Thank you for sharing this.
Beautiful Sue. Thank you so much. I find great comfort and joy in my faith and it means something to me that the funeral in your story took place in a church. It would also mean something if it was held in a temple or mosque, I guess I mean that is wasn't secular. I have nothing against those, it just gives me comfort somehow in the reading that the widow perhaps has a faith that will be part of what sustains her.
Thank you. Yes, I think faith helps. Certainly, it helps to believe that death is not the end, just the beginning of an even better life. I always feel honored to be able to offer music as part of the service.
For me it's learning to live with the loss knowing that God sees me being faithful, tenderly understands my pain,, doesn't expect me to get over it, and is perhaps proud of me, feels close to me because I'm carrying on with love in His name (or however one might put it). I'm not sick and just 59 but have a lot of the music already picked out for my funeral, what a great gift music is.
I was talking with a friend recently. Her husband died of a heart attack over night. Her new boyfriend had cancer and she cared for him during the last 6 months of his life. When I asked her which was harder - she said both in different ways.
I tend to agree with Teyani, it's been four years since my husband died - the grief and loss are still there - maybe more so because the permanence of it has sunk in.
I really don't like this idea of 'getting over it'. I don't think you ever really get over it, and the expectation of 'moving on' is unfair. You don't move on and you shouldn't have to. I don't mean that you should wallow in misery and loss, that's no good for anyone. But you can acknowledge your loss, and that your loss will always be a part of you, without wallowing. You don't ever really get over the loss. Your relationship to your pain changes, eventually there'll be days when you don't even think about it. But it's always going to be a part of you and I think we need to acknowledge that.
Is it easier if you're more practiced at being alone? I don't think so. I think it's just different. OK, maybe you'll be better at the practical things, you can unblock your own drains or sort out the broken wifi, but we're all human beings and we all need connection, regardless of how many days, months or years we've spent alone.
Thank you for sharing this. Like you, l am alone and independent. John and l didn’t do everything together, which was probably the crux of our longevity … my female friendships were and remain very important… however, my love for John is as deep now as it ever was. I loved him with a passion, still do … we learn to allow grief to reside within us. 💝
Thank you, Sue, I just found your writings. I feel that I am an in-between widow at 54. Too young to have other widowed friends, and too old to really feel the "need" for another partner. My husband and I had been together since high school, so like your you mentioned, we were really bonded, having grown up together. I'm learning to navigate the world on my own for the first time.
He fought cancer for almost 15 years, so also like you, I did a lot of grieving along the way, but the grief is still there. Thanks for writing about it and sharing your story.
I had been single for most of my adult life before I met my late husband, and therefore I was used to being independent. It stands me in good stead now, but I now lack the motivation for a lot of things. Cooking for one isn't much fun. We can no longer touch one another and hear each other's voice, except the silent voice in the mind. The grief will never leave. We have to learn to live with it the best we can. I could do with help with DIY or simple things such as changing a light bulb. As I no longer have a car, I could do with a chauffeur. A woman can dream...
Your answer to the daughter “I’ll let you know if it ever happens” about getting over such an enormous loss is ever so true, and I’m honestly proud of you for speaking the words out loud.
We don’t ever get past real grief, we never get over it. The depth of love we have for a person or a beloved pet is equal to the depth of grief we feel when they cross.
What we do is to learn how to carry it with us.
Your beach walk and the purple hydrangea photo are perfect in every way. Some people try so very hard to avoid feeling their grief, but it remains.
I read somewhere that the price for loving so much is grieving so much. I have found this to be true <3
Big hugs, Sue. I feel your warm empathy for the family and your concern for the newly widowed lady. I'm sending much empathy back to you. You remind me of how peaceful and calm walking by water is. Perhaps the waves help to calm the stormy waves of grief that rise, raw within us when something stirs our pain.
This brought tears to my own eyes as I think about my own mum. My dad's still around thank goodness. I recall the times a relationship has ended. The texts end. Having someone to share my day with. Someone to call if my car breaks down. The places that were once full become a void as I plunged back into silence. The first little while being the most acute of course. Even now, this read touched the grief of those times, those losses. Thank you for sharing this.
Sending love and healing hugs to all who are living with grief. It's hard. xoA <3
Beautiful Sue. Thank you so much. I find great comfort and joy in my faith and it means something to me that the funeral in your story took place in a church. It would also mean something if it was held in a temple or mosque, I guess I mean that is wasn't secular. I have nothing against those, it just gives me comfort somehow in the reading that the widow perhaps has a faith that will be part of what sustains her.
Thank you. Yes, I think faith helps. Certainly, it helps to believe that death is not the end, just the beginning of an even better life. I always feel honored to be able to offer music as part of the service.
For me it's learning to live with the loss knowing that God sees me being faithful, tenderly understands my pain,, doesn't expect me to get over it, and is perhaps proud of me, feels close to me because I'm carrying on with love in His name (or however one might put it). I'm not sick and just 59 but have a lot of the music already picked out for my funeral, what a great gift music is.
I'm starting to pick out my music. There are so many great songs. Yes, a belief that God, however we see God, is watching over us truly helps.
I was talking with a friend recently. Her husband died of a heart attack over night. Her new boyfriend had cancer and she cared for him during the last 6 months of his life. When I asked her which was harder - she said both in different ways.
I tend to agree with Teyani, it's been four years since my husband died - the grief and loss are still there - maybe more so because the permanence of it has sunk in.
I think you're right. After a few years, when everyone has forgotten about your loss, you're still feeling it and realizing it's forever.
I really don't like this idea of 'getting over it'. I don't think you ever really get over it, and the expectation of 'moving on' is unfair. You don't move on and you shouldn't have to. I don't mean that you should wallow in misery and loss, that's no good for anyone. But you can acknowledge your loss, and that your loss will always be a part of you, without wallowing. You don't ever really get over the loss. Your relationship to your pain changes, eventually there'll be days when you don't even think about it. But it's always going to be a part of you and I think we need to acknowledge that.
Is it easier if you're more practiced at being alone? I don't think so. I think it's just different. OK, maybe you'll be better at the practical things, you can unblock your own drains or sort out the broken wifi, but we're all human beings and we all need connection, regardless of how many days, months or years we've spent alone.
Absolutely right. You don't "get over it." And it's still hard being alone even if you have done it for years. Thank you for this.
Thank you for sharing this. Like you, l am alone and independent. John and l didn’t do everything together, which was probably the crux of our longevity … my female friendships were and remain very important… however, my love for John is as deep now as it ever was. I loved him with a passion, still do … we learn to allow grief to reside within us. 💝
Beautiful.
Thank you, Sue, I just found your writings. I feel that I am an in-between widow at 54. Too young to have other widowed friends, and too old to really feel the "need" for another partner. My husband and I had been together since high school, so like your you mentioned, we were really bonded, having grown up together. I'm learning to navigate the world on my own for the first time.
He fought cancer for almost 15 years, so also like you, I did a lot of grieving along the way, but the grief is still there. Thanks for writing about it and sharing your story.
I had been single for most of my adult life before I met my late husband, and therefore I was used to being independent. It stands me in good stead now, but I now lack the motivation for a lot of things. Cooking for one isn't much fun. We can no longer touch one another and hear each other's voice, except the silent voice in the mind. The grief will never leave. We have to learn to live with it the best we can. I could do with help with DIY or simple things such as changing a light bulb. As I no longer have a car, I could do with a chauffeur. A woman can dream...
I have had that chauffeur dream for a long time. Maybe someday . . .
Beautiful Sue. We need to hear more of these stories ❤️
Thank you.