Who has lost a spouse? And what did you do then?

In My Humble Opinion
1

Just under 22 years ago I got married to a Thai woman. Six years ago she was diagnosed with stage IV thymoma. We fought it with chemotherapy (4 times), thoracic and abdominal surgery (4 times) and a massive dose of radiation. The doctors and hospitals were in a variety of countries, Western and otherwise. I lived off our savings for two years while we tried various remedies.

On December 11th at midnight, she slipped into a coma and at 0755 the next morning, she died.

I don’t mean to come across as looking for a pity-party or anything like that. I’ve known this was coming for all this time and tried to prepare as best I could. Right now, I feel that I was completely ineffective at preparing myself.

My questions to those that have lost a long-term spouse/SO is: how did it affect you? What did you do afterwards? What helped you come to terms with it? And most of all, how did you get back to normal?

Thanks

Jack

2

I’m so sorry.

I don’t know how anyone can “prepare” for losing a spouse, even after six years of serious illness, so don’t be hard on yourself.

My first husband died 15 years ago after a relatively short illness. We’d been married 27 years, not all of them happy. Hard times. This makes things a lot more complicated, because feelings are mixed. You’re sad that someone you once loved has died, but there’s also a (guilty) feeling of relief that it’s over.

But that’s neither here nor there and doesn’t apply to you.

When he died, I was sad for him, that his life hadn’t been happier, that he never seemed content. I also felt insecure – my world was shaken. If someone with such a strong personality, someone who’d been in my life for 30 years could die, then anything could happen, to anybody, anytime.

As for what I did afterwards – mundane stuff, mostly. I took care of business, which included giving various things to his family, donating his hearing aids to the Lions Club, giving medical supplies to the local home health agency – stuff like that. I took a month off work, spent time with friends and relatives, and started living the rest of my life.

This might sound cold, but what has helped me most – and it has taken awhile to get to this point – is realizing that there wasn’t anything I could do for him. I couldn’t bring him back and make things right. I did the best that I knew how for him.

It’s a cliche but it’s true – time helps. Hurt fades. Just don’t beat yourself up with things that you think you should have done, not done, or done better.

3

[QUOTE=AuntiePam]
I’m so sorry.

I don’t know how anyone can “prepare” for losing a spouse, even after six years of serious illness, so don’t be hard on yourself.

My first husband died 15 years ago after a relatively short illness. We’d been married 27 years, not all of them happy. Hard times. This makes things a lot more complicated, because feelings are mixed. You’re sad that someone you once loved has died, but there’s also a (guilty) feeling of relief that it’s over.
But that’s neither here nor there and doesn’t apply to you.
When he died, I was sad for him, that his life hadn’t been happier, that he never seemed content. I also felt insecure – my world was shaken. If someone with such a strong personality, someone who’d been in my life for 30 years could die, then anything could happen, to anybody, anytime.
As for what I did afterwards – mundane stuff, mostly. I took care of business, which included giving various things to his family, donating his hearing aids to the Lions Club, giving medical supplies to the local home health agency – stuff like that. I took a month off work, spent time with friends and relatives, and started living the rest of my life.
This might sound cold, but what has helped me most – and it has taken awhile to get to this point – is realizing that there wasn’t anything I could do for him. I couldn’t bring him back and make things right. I did the best that I knew how for him.

It’s a cliche but it’s true – time helps. Hurt fades. Just don’t beat yourself up with things that you think you should have done, not done, or done better.
[/QUOTE]

AuntiePam

Thank you. You’re wrong about the guilt though. I could have done better, I could have done more. Not medically or anything, just on a day-to-day basis. As you say, no way to bring them back and fix it. I just hope this gets better with time. I keep thinking I need an all-consuming task of some sort but frankly have trouble giving a damn about most things.

Anyway, thanks again.

Testy

4

When I was forty, I married a woman ten years younger than me. Shortly after we got married, she began to have lots of health problems, mostly related to her immune system (not HIV). Within two years, she was unable to work. Just before our fifth anniversary, she died of pneumonia at the age of 35.

One of the things I learned from this is that I had spent my life up to that point attempting to sympathize with people who were experiencing things about which I had no inkling. I had no idea what the loss of my spouse was going to feel like. I’m sure I have only the slightest idea of what it has felt like for you and AuntyPam. Someone gave me a copy of A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis right after she died. Lewis wrote it in the aftermath of his wife’s death. The first line (from memory, I may be slightly inaccurate) is: Nobody ever told me how much grief feels like fear. I don’t know if that feeling is universal, but it hit home for me. My grief rendered me childishly engulfed in a feeling very like the fear of unknown things that I remember from dark nights in my childhood.

I knew guilt as well. My family and my wife’s family couldn’t stop talking about how well and selflessly I had cared for my wife and her daughter during the several years of illness. I had taken care of them, there’s no doubt about that, but I also have no doubt that I could have done better. Only I knew the thoughts and feelings I had during those years, and the less admirable of them came back to me frequently as I experienced my grief.

Among the people who tried to help me at that time were some Christians. The kindness and love shown to me by these folks, as well as their testimony, convinced me to attend church with them. Along the way I had some spiritual experiences which convinced me that Christianity was the path for me. But that’s a story for another thread, perhaps.

Testy, I wish you peace. I believe it will come for you, be it from the magic of time passing, the incomparable magic of the love of friends, family and eventually a new partner, or from a spiritual experience. Peace.

5

Grief feels like fear. That sounds very right. I’m not sure I’m understanding it the way Lewis meant it, but the insecure feeling I had was much like fear. Crotalus, my Christian cousin and her husband helped us a lot. She prayed several times with my husband, who wasn’t religious at all, and it soothed him.

Testy, an all consuming task? It might help. Go back to school, remodel your house, travel across the country, volunteer at a hospital, read Proust.

Doing is good. My house was spotless for the first year after my husband died. I also delved into yardwork (even put dormant spray on the fruit trees) and taught myself to quilt.

6

[QUOTE=Crotalus]
When I was forty, I married a woman ten years younger than me. Shortly after we got married, she began to have lots of health problems, mostly related to her immune system (not HIV). Within two years, she was unable to work. Just before our fifth anniversary, she died of pneumonia at the age of 35.

One of the things I learned from this is that I had spent my life up to that point attempting to sympathize with people who were experiencing things about which I had no inkling. I had no idea what the loss of my spouse was going to feel like. I’m sure I have only the slightest idea of what it has felt like for you and AuntyPam. Someone gave me a copy of A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis right after she died. Lewis wrote it in the aftermath of his wife’s death. The first line (from memory, I may be slightly inaccurate) is: Nobody ever told me how much grief feels like fear. I don’t know if that feeling is universal, but it hit home for me. My grief rendered me childishly engulfed in a feeling very like the fear of unknown things that I remember from dark nights in my childhood.

I knew guilt as well. My family and my wife’s family couldn’t stop talking about how well and selflessly I had cared for my wife and her daughter during the several years of illness. I had taken care of them, there’s no doubt about that, but I also have no doubt that I could have done better. Only I knew the thoughts and feelings I had during those years, and the less admirable of them came back to me frequently as I experienced my grief.

Among the people who tried to help me at that time were some Christians. The kindness and love shown to me by these folks, as well as their testimony, convinced me to attend church with them. Along the way I had some spiritual experiences which convinced me that Christianity was the path for me. But that’s a story for another thread, perhaps.

Testy, I wish you peace. I believe it will come for you, be it from the magic of time passing, the incomparable magic of the love of friends, family and eventually a new partner, or from a spiritual experience. Peace.
[/QUOTE]

Crotalus
Thank you for this. I don’t feel fear so much as just dead. And you’re right, every less-than-admirable thing I did pops up like a zombie whenever I think of her. I chafed under the restrictions that her illness imposed on us but now that they are all removed there is nothing I care for.

Thank you very much for your good wishes and for sharing your own experience of this.

Testy

7

[QUOTE=AuntiePam]
Grief feels like fear. That sounds very right. I’m not sure I’m understanding it the way Lewis meant it, but the insecure feeling I had was much like fear. Crotalus, my Christian cousin and her husband helped us a lot. She prayed several times with my husband, who wasn’t religious at all, and it soothed him.

Testy, an all consuming task? It might help. Go back to school, remodel your house, travel across the country, volunteer at a hospital, read Proust.

Doing is good. My house was spotless for the first year after my husband died. I also delved into yardwork (even put dormant spray on the fruit trees) and taught myself to quilt.
[/QUOTE]

AuntiePam

Well, I’m taking your advice on the school issue but Proust might be going a bit too far. :stuck_out_tongue: Who knows, I might even learn to speak decent Arabic after all these years of living here.

Thanks again

Jack

8

Speaking of less than admirable – I remember struggling one evening with the hoses on his oxygen tanks. They were inter-connected, and I was trying to get them set so that he’d have the fullest tank going so he could relax and try to sleep.

He was losing patience with me, and he said “Why can’t you get this right? I’d do it for you!” And I said “But you’ll never have to, will you.” It was the ugliest thing I’d ever said to him.

9

[QUOTE=AuntiePam]
Speaking of less than admirable – I remember struggling one evening with the hoses on his oxygen tanks. They were inter-connected, and I was trying to get them set so that he’d have the fullest tank going so he could relax and try to sleep.

He was losing patience with me, and he said “Why can’t you get this right? I’d do it for you!” And I said “But you’ll never have to, will you.” It was the ugliest thing I’d ever said to him.
[/QUOTE]

Uugh! Yes, I have a few of those to live with myself. Her greatest desire was for a house in Thailand where I unfortunately can’t own property. She never knew her cancer was invariably terminal and kept after me about it. I finally said: “I’m not going to blow our life savings on a house for your f***ing brother to live in.” I could have dealt with that situation and built the house if I’d wanted to but 90 days later she died.

Regards

Testy