BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
Thank you for taking the time to read them.@BlueWidow
Thanks for all your excellent posts here.
BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
Broken Chimera
The abyss also gazes into you
- May 27, 2019
- 972
First I wanna say that I'm sorry you've been through so much shit and that the love you have for your husband is radiating off this post. I'm sorry for your loss.
That part hit me hard. Ik that feeling all to well. And I feel bad for anyone who knows what that feels like. I'm so sorry for your pain. But thank you for sharing your story. I hope you can heal, I really do.
BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
Thank you for your response. I'm sorry to hear that you can relate to my story. I also feel bad for anyone that has any clue how it feels.
Today, I want to share another story with you because it's been on my mind for some reason.
First, I was listening to a radio program this morning and as part of the bumper music they played the song that I intend to place on my goodbye thread. It kind of surprised me because this is an old song that you don't hear very much on the radio anymore. I had never heard it played on the show before. I'm probably reading too much into it, but I took it as a sign that the universe is telling me my time is getting closer. That has nothing to do with my story, just something interesting that happened to me today.
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Totally understand. I would feel the exact same way. The universe has been telling us for a long time, hasn't it?
Every extra day i am here baffles me, but at least i am getting in my practice rounds for when i finally successfully CTB.
BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
And now to my story. . .
At the end of my husband's life, when he was stuck in a nursing home where they were IMO actively trying to make him weaker so that he would die faster, he had made himself an appointment with his cancer doctor. At least, we all thought he had made an appointment with his cancer doctor. For weeks, his daughter and I had been trying to make him an appointment with his cancer doctor and my husband had been calling the doctor and canceling the appointments. Then one day out of the blue, he told me that the next day he had an appointment. When I went to visit him that evening, I went to the front desk of the nursing home and asked them if he did indeed have an appointment because they were supposed to check and verify that patients had appointments before allowing them off the nursing home grounds. At this point, my husband was in a wheelchair and would need special transport to this appointment, so it was important that the appointment be verified before we went to the trouble of calling the transport company and making the arrangements. This nurse assured me that she had personally called and that my husband did indeed have an appointment. She looked me right in the face and swore to me that he had an appointment and that she had verified it by talking to the doctor's office herself. I was later to find out that was complete BS!
The next day, my husband's daughter dropped me off at the doctor's office location and went back to our house. She had taken a plane to our house and was going back to the state where she lived, so she dropped me off and went back to get ready to leave so she could drive her rental car to the airport and drop it off before her flight out.
I sat there waiting. . . 20 minutes went by. . . 30 minutes went by. . . I called upstairs at the doctor's office to make sure my husband wasn't already in there and they said he's wasn't there. Then I called the transport company and they said he would be delivered to the doctor's office in approximately five minutes. However, five minutes went by and my husband wasn't there. Then I got a panicked phone call from him. He was very afraid and alone and he told me that they had dropped him off somewhere, but he didn't know where he was. At that point, I thought perhaps they had dropped him off in the wrong part of the hospital complex. This doctor's office was in this big complex of buildings that included the hospital and several other doctor's offices and so forth. I walked around frantically looking at the entryway to all the different buildings because my husband said he was sitting in the entryway of the building, but he didn't know which one or where he was and he was very panicked. Again remember, my husband is in a wheelchair. He can't do anything for himself and he's alone. Anyone could do anything to him that they wanted to.
Finally I went upstairs to the doctor's office that he was supposed to be going to and asked them what I should do because I couldn't even think straight at that point. I was so upset I was physically shaking. The receptionist made some phone calls and she told me that:
1) My husband could not have had an appointment with his doctor today because the doctor wasn't even in his office. He was out today. He had the day off! So this nurse who told me she had confirmed the appointment was lying through her teeth!
2) The transport company had dropped my husband off at another location of the same office and just left him sitting there in a wheelchair, by himself, in the front of the building!
And now I was stuck at the wrong location and I had to figure out how to get to the location my husband was at because I didn't have a car. His daughter had dropped me off. I called his daughter and told her what happened, but she didn't have time to help me because she had to catch a flight. I called an Uber to take me to the other location of the doctor's office and it just seemed to take forever for that Uber to get to me, and then for us to get to the other doctor's office.
And even though I was visibly upset and I had explained my situation to this Uber driver, he kept wanting to talk to me. I just wanted him to shut the hell up and get me to this other doctor's location as quick as possible, but he kept trying to make small talk with me like we were going for a leisurely drive or something. Maybe he thought he was distracting me by getting me to talk about something else because I was obviously very upset, but he really wasn't helping me. He was making everything worse.
Finally, we arrived at the other doctor's office location and my husband was not outside the building. I went inside and luckily someone had noticed him sitting there by himself in a wheelchair and had come out to see what was going on. When he told them about his doctor's appointment, they explained to him that his doctor had the day off so there was no way he could have an appointment that day, but they agreed to let the doctor that was on duty there see him because he got very upset when he found out he couldn't see a doctor that day.
By the time I got there, he was inside one of the doctor's office rooms waiting for the doctor to come in and see him. They had given him some coffee and he had calmed down and was actually laughing with one of the nurses. I was just so relieved that he was okay. I ran over and hugged him and kissed him. By this time, I was so dizzy and sick that I could barely stand up, but I couldn't let on for my husband. I didn't want him to worry about me. We made it through the rest of the doctor's appointment okay and they called the transport to come and take him back to the nursing home.
During this time, my husband was eating a lot of junk food. He was constantly sending us through the drive-thru at the McDonald's to get his bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit which was his favorite thing to eat. But we were also sent to all kinds of other fast food places multiple times a day to get food for him. It became very expensive and very physically difficult for me to constantly be running around to all these fast food places and then having to take the food back to him. And then half the time, by the time I got it back to him, he either didn't want it anymore (either he would complain that it was too cold or they hadn't prepared it the way he wanted it), or he would take one or two bites of it and throw the rest of it away. It was very frustrating for me, but I knew that was one of the only things he had left in his life that he could control, so I tried very hard to get him whatever it was that he wanted.
The nutritionist at the nursing home had told his daughter that he was eating too much junk food and it wasn't good for his heart and that we should stop getting all of that stuff for him. I had no intention of not getting the food for him because he was dying and I thought he had a right to at least have the kind of food that he wanted to eat, if nothing else. At one point, his daughter yelled at me for continuing to get him the fast food. She didn't like the stress of doing it anymore than I did and she kept complaining about how expensive it was and how we were just wasting money and time doing it, and she used the advice of the nutritionist as an excuse to not get any more food for him that he wanted. But it was the only thing my husband had in his life that he had any control over. That's part of what makes this next section very difficult for me.
By the end of the doctor's appointment I described above, I was on my last nerve. All I wanted to do was get my husband back in the transport, get him back to the nursing home where I knew he was at least sort of safe, and go home and collapse. I literally had no strength or energy to do anything else or deal with anything else at that point. As we were sitting outside waiting for the transport to come, my husband asked me to go and get him a sandwich. I told him there were no restaurants in the immediate area so there was nowhere for me to go. There was a gas station on the other side of us and he insisted that they had sandwiches in there. I walked down the parking lot a little way and looked toward the gas station and I couldn't see any sign that they had sandwiches. Usually if a place has sandwiches, they have advertising saying so. There was no advertising there saying they had sandwiches, and as exhausted as I was, I didn't want to walk all the way down there just to find out that they didn't have any. Plus, I didn't want to leave my husband sitting there alone in a wheelchair. I came back and told my husband that I didn't see anything and that the closest place I could see was across the street, which was a 6 lane highway. Again, I was beyond exhausted! My husband insisted there was a sandwich shop and, at one point when I told him to just let me sit for a minute, he told me he would get the sandwich himself and he started wheeling himself across the parking lot. Then he got on some kind of a slope and he started rolling down the slope toward the street and he couldn't stop. I ran after him and grabbed the wheelchair before it rolled out into the traffic, and I said, "Fine, I will go and look". I then wheeled my husband back up close to the doctor's office building and I walked down toward the gas station again, but I still didn't see any sandwich shop or any sign that there was any place that made sandwiches in the vicinity. Luckily, by that time, the wheelchair transport showed up. They came and loaded my husband into the wheelchair transport and he was trying to get the driver to stop and get him a sandwich. The driver told him that they had a tracker in the vehicle and there was no way he could stop without someone knowing about it and he would get in trouble. I told my husband that I would get him a sandwich and bring it to him later. I was secretly hoping that he would just forget about it because I really had to just go home and collapse at that point. As my husband was leaving, he was very upset that he didn't get his sandwich. I called an Uber and eventually they came and took me home.
I briefly considered getting in my car and going out to get my husband a sandwich and taking it to him at the nursing home, but I didn't think I was going to be able to physically do it at that point. I was afraid that I might have an accident in the traffic or something because of the state that I was in.
I collapsed on the bed. My husband later called me and he seemed to have forgotten all about the "sandwich incident".
It was less than two weeks later that we brought my husband home from the nursing home because the insurance company had decided that he was " too healthy to be in a nursing home". Their definition of too healthy was that he was on oxygen 24 hours a day and needed to be in a wheelchair or in bed. He could no longer go to the bathroom or do anything else on his own because he was too weak and sick. The insurance company just didn't want to pay the bills for the nursing home anymore. I was certainly happy to have my husband at home because then I didn't have to keep running around anymore to see him, which was extremely exhausting and stressful for me. However, having him at home presented other challenges because now he was there 24 hours a day and I had to take care of him. He was in absolutely no state for me to take care of him alone anymore. I had to hire help and pay out of pocket for 24 hour care, even though there were family members of his lying around our house claiming they were all there to help me. They hardly ever lifted a finger to do anything unless I continually told them to do it over and over. The one thing we could do with my husband at home though was order Doordash. This way, my husband could have whatever food he wanted practically and I didn't have to be the one who was running around buying it. It was more expensive, but I didn't care as long as my husband was getting what he wanted and I didn't have to have the stress of running around getting it myself. Therefore, in a way, I feel like I made up for the fact that I didn't get him his sandwich, but for some reason I still feel guilty about it.
A couple of months after my husband's death, I had to go down and pay my cable bill in person because I was changing my services around. The cable company had moved their office to the area near where the doctor's office my husband and I had been in when he was in the wheelchair was located.
I parked in their parking lot instead of the parking lot in front of the cable company because it was easier for me to get in and out of their parking lot. I then walked across the street to where the cable company was located. As I was standing on the corner, that's where the gas station was that my husband had insisted had sandwiches. Now the gas station did not serve sandwiches. However, hidden behind the gas station was a Subway sandwich shop that I didn't even see when this whole incident was happening. Apparently, it was a new place and it had just opened and I didn't know it was there. I'm assuming that was probably what my husband was talking about when he said they were serving sandwiches. This, of course, made me feel even more guilty because it turns out I could have easily gone and gotten him a sandwich and I wouldn't have had to cross the big highway.
However, in the state that I was in and the situation I was in, I just didn't have the ability to figure it out at the time. I know it's a silly thing. It's just a stupid sandwich and I don't know why it bothers me so much because it's just one thing of many. I guess for me though, it was bad enough that everyone else was trying to run my husband's life for him and tell him what to do. He had doctors, nurses, nursing home workers, hospice people, and all manner of other people trying to run his life for him and tell him what to do and how to do it. Even his daughter was trying to control him by trying to forbid the family from getting him the food that he wanted. Luckily, they were all on my side and they all told her to go put a sock in it because we all knew he was dying. Who the hell cares what some food is going to do to your heart when you're dying of cancer! But what bothers me is that I feel like I contributed to that. I contributed to him not being able to get what he wanted when he wanted it and to him not having that little piece of control over his life. Having been in situations like that myself, I guess that's why it bothers me so much.
I know I was in an impossible situation and I did the very best that I could, but I still feel like, overall, I let him down in so many ways.
At the end of his life, I felt like I was fighting everyone just to give him what little dignity he could get. Everyone else seemed to be trying to take it away from him. My husband was a proud man and he always did things for himself. He never depended on other people, they depended on him. I tried so hard to make sure he had some control over what happened to him at the end of his life, but all the doctors and other people just refused to allow him to do things the way he wanted them done. And as I've said in another post on this thread, after he got referred to hospice, he died so soon after that happened, that I hadn't even wrapped my head around the fact that he was in hospice yet. It all happened so quickly there was no way I could keep up with it. I know it's pointless to beat myself up about this stuff now because it doesn't matter. He's dead. He's either not aware of any of it so it doesn't matter to him anymore, or he's in some wonderful paradise where it also doesn't matter to him anymore. The only one left to beat themselves up about it and worry about it is me.
He was my rock. He was one of those people that always had the answer, and if he didn't have the answer on his own, he would find it.
I won't say he never let me down because that's what people do, they let each other down, whether they mean to or not. But I know he never let me down on purpose. I just wanted so much to return the favor.
I have to stop now because I'm crying so much that I can't even see the screen of my phone. Thank you for letting me get this out though. I'm hoping that now that I've actually said it out loud, maybe it will stop floating around in my head and waking me up in the middle the night.
At the end of my husband's life, when he was stuck in a nursing home where they were IMO actively trying to make him weaker so that he would die faster, he had made himself an appointment with his cancer doctor. At least, we all thought he had made an appointment with his cancer doctor. For weeks, his daughter and I had been trying to make him an appointment with his cancer doctor and my husband had been calling the doctor and canceling the appointments. Then one day out of the blue, he told me that the next day he had an appointment. When I went to visit him that evening, I went to the front desk of the nursing home and asked them if he did indeed have an appointment because they were supposed to check and verify that patients had appointments before allowing them off the nursing home grounds. At this point, my husband was in a wheelchair and would need special transport to this appointment, so it was important that the appointment be verified before we went to the trouble of calling the transport company and making the arrangements. This nurse assured me that she had personally called and that my husband did indeed have an appointment. She looked me right in the face and swore to me that he had an appointment and that she had verified it by talking to the doctor's office herself. I was later to find out that was complete BS!
The next day, my husband's daughter dropped me off at the doctor's office location and went back to our house. She had taken a plane to our house and was going back to the state where she lived, so she dropped me off and went back to get ready to leave so she could drive her rental car to the airport and drop it off before her flight out.
I sat there waiting. . . 20 minutes went by. . . 30 minutes went by. . . I called upstairs at the doctor's office to make sure my husband wasn't already in there and they said he's wasn't there. Then I called the transport company and they said he would be delivered to the doctor's office in approximately five minutes. However, five minutes went by and my husband wasn't there. Then I got a panicked phone call from him. He was very afraid and alone and he told me that they had dropped him off somewhere, but he didn't know where he was. At that point, I thought perhaps they had dropped him off in the wrong part of the hospital complex. This doctor's office was in this big complex of buildings that included the hospital and several other doctor's offices and so forth. I walked around frantically looking at the entryway to all the different buildings because my husband said he was sitting in the entryway of the building, but he didn't know which one or where he was and he was very panicked. Again remember, my husband is in a wheelchair. He can't do anything for himself and he's alone. Anyone could do anything to him that they wanted to.
Finally I went upstairs to the doctor's office that he was supposed to be going to and asked them what I should do because I couldn't even think straight at that point. I was so upset I was physically shaking. The receptionist made some phone calls and she told me that:
1) My husband could not have had an appointment with his doctor today because the doctor wasn't even in his office. He was out today. He had the day off! So this nurse who told me she had confirmed the appointment was lying through her teeth!
2) The transport company had dropped my husband off at another location of the same office and just left him sitting there in a wheelchair, by himself, in the front of the building!
And now I was stuck at the wrong location and I had to figure out how to get to the location my husband was at because I didn't have a car. His daughter had dropped me off. I called his daughter and told her what happened, but she didn't have time to help me because she had to catch a flight. I called an Uber to take me to the other location of the doctor's office and it just seemed to take forever for that Uber to get to me, and then for us to get to the other doctor's office.
And even though I was visibly upset and I had explained my situation to this Uber driver, he kept wanting to talk to me. I just wanted him to shut the hell up and get me to this other doctor's location as quick as possible, but he kept trying to make small talk with me like we were going for a leisurely drive or something. Maybe he thought he was distracting me by getting me to talk about something else because I was obviously very upset, but he really wasn't helping me. He was making everything worse.
Finally, we arrived at the other doctor's office location and my husband was not outside the building. I went inside and luckily someone had noticed him sitting there by himself in a wheelchair and had come out to see what was going on. When he told them about his doctor's appointment, they explained to him that his doctor had the day off so there was no way he could have an appointment that day, but they agreed to let the doctor that was on duty there see him because he got very upset when he found out he couldn't see a doctor that day.
By the time I got there, he was inside one of the doctor's office rooms waiting for the doctor to come in and see him. They had given him some coffee and he had calmed down and was actually laughing with one of the nurses. I was just so relieved that he was okay. I ran over and hugged him and kissed him. By this time, I was so dizzy and sick that I could barely stand up, but I couldn't let on for my husband. I didn't want him to worry about me. We made it through the rest of the doctor's appointment okay and they called the transport to come and take him back to the nursing home.
During this time, my husband was eating a lot of junk food. He was constantly sending us through the drive-thru at the McDonald's to get his bacon, egg, and cheese biscuit which was his favorite thing to eat. But we were also sent to all kinds of other fast food places multiple times a day to get food for him. It became very expensive and very physically difficult for me to constantly be running around to all these fast food places and then having to take the food back to him. And then half the time, by the time I got it back to him, he either didn't want it anymore (either he would complain that it was too cold or they hadn't prepared it the way he wanted it), or he would take one or two bites of it and throw the rest of it away. It was very frustrating for me, but I knew that was one of the only things he had left in his life that he could control, so I tried very hard to get him whatever it was that he wanted.
The nutritionist at the nursing home had told his daughter that he was eating too much junk food and it wasn't good for his heart and that we should stop getting all of that stuff for him. I had no intention of not getting the food for him because he was dying and I thought he had a right to at least have the kind of food that he wanted to eat, if nothing else. At one point, his daughter yelled at me for continuing to get him the fast food. She didn't like the stress of doing it anymore than I did and she kept complaining about how expensive it was and how we were just wasting money and time doing it, and she used the advice of the nutritionist as an excuse to not get any more food for him that he wanted. But it was the only thing my husband had in his life that he had any control over. That's part of what makes this next section very difficult for me.
By the end of the doctor's appointment I described above, I was on my last nerve. All I wanted to do was get my husband back in the transport, get him back to the nursing home where I knew he was at least sort of safe, and go home and collapse. I literally had no strength or energy to do anything else or deal with anything else at that point. As we were sitting outside waiting for the transport to come, my husband asked me to go and get him a sandwich. I told him there were no restaurants in the immediate area so there was nowhere for me to go. There was a gas station on the other side of us and he insisted that they had sandwiches in there. I walked down the parking lot a little way and looked toward the gas station and I couldn't see any sign that they had sandwiches. Usually if a place has sandwiches, they have advertising saying so. There was no advertising there saying they had sandwiches, and as exhausted as I was, I didn't want to walk all the way down there just to find out that they didn't have any. Plus, I didn't want to leave my husband sitting there alone in a wheelchair. I came back and told my husband that I didn't see anything and that the closest place I could see was across the street, which was a 6 lane highway. Again, I was beyond exhausted! My husband insisted there was a sandwich shop and, at one point when I told him to just let me sit for a minute, he told me he would get the sandwich himself and he started wheeling himself across the parking lot. Then he got on some kind of a slope and he started rolling down the slope toward the street and he couldn't stop. I ran after him and grabbed the wheelchair before it rolled out into the traffic, and I said, "Fine, I will go and look". I then wheeled my husband back up close to the doctor's office building and I walked down toward the gas station again, but I still didn't see any sandwich shop or any sign that there was any place that made sandwiches in the vicinity. Luckily, by that time, the wheelchair transport showed up. They came and loaded my husband into the wheelchair transport and he was trying to get the driver to stop and get him a sandwich. The driver told him that they had a tracker in the vehicle and there was no way he could stop without someone knowing about it and he would get in trouble. I told my husband that I would get him a sandwich and bring it to him later. I was secretly hoping that he would just forget about it because I really had to just go home and collapse at that point. As my husband was leaving, he was very upset that he didn't get his sandwich. I called an Uber and eventually they came and took me home.
I briefly considered getting in my car and going out to get my husband a sandwich and taking it to him at the nursing home, but I didn't think I was going to be able to physically do it at that point. I was afraid that I might have an accident in the traffic or something because of the state that I was in.
I collapsed on the bed. My husband later called me and he seemed to have forgotten all about the "sandwich incident".
It was less than two weeks later that we brought my husband home from the nursing home because the insurance company had decided that he was " too healthy to be in a nursing home". Their definition of too healthy was that he was on oxygen 24 hours a day and needed to be in a wheelchair or in bed. He could no longer go to the bathroom or do anything else on his own because he was too weak and sick. The insurance company just didn't want to pay the bills for the nursing home anymore. I was certainly happy to have my husband at home because then I didn't have to keep running around anymore to see him, which was extremely exhausting and stressful for me. However, having him at home presented other challenges because now he was there 24 hours a day and I had to take care of him. He was in absolutely no state for me to take care of him alone anymore. I had to hire help and pay out of pocket for 24 hour care, even though there were family members of his lying around our house claiming they were all there to help me. They hardly ever lifted a finger to do anything unless I continually told them to do it over and over. The one thing we could do with my husband at home though was order Doordash. This way, my husband could have whatever food he wanted practically and I didn't have to be the one who was running around buying it. It was more expensive, but I didn't care as long as my husband was getting what he wanted and I didn't have to have the stress of running around getting it myself. Therefore, in a way, I feel like I made up for the fact that I didn't get him his sandwich, but for some reason I still feel guilty about it.
A couple of months after my husband's death, I had to go down and pay my cable bill in person because I was changing my services around. The cable company had moved their office to the area near where the doctor's office my husband and I had been in when he was in the wheelchair was located.
I parked in their parking lot instead of the parking lot in front of the cable company because it was easier for me to get in and out of their parking lot. I then walked across the street to where the cable company was located. As I was standing on the corner, that's where the gas station was that my husband had insisted had sandwiches. Now the gas station did not serve sandwiches. However, hidden behind the gas station was a Subway sandwich shop that I didn't even see when this whole incident was happening. Apparently, it was a new place and it had just opened and I didn't know it was there. I'm assuming that was probably what my husband was talking about when he said they were serving sandwiches. This, of course, made me feel even more guilty because it turns out I could have easily gone and gotten him a sandwich and I wouldn't have had to cross the big highway.
However, in the state that I was in and the situation I was in, I just didn't have the ability to figure it out at the time. I know it's a silly thing. It's just a stupid sandwich and I don't know why it bothers me so much because it's just one thing of many. I guess for me though, it was bad enough that everyone else was trying to run my husband's life for him and tell him what to do. He had doctors, nurses, nursing home workers, hospice people, and all manner of other people trying to run his life for him and tell him what to do and how to do it. Even his daughter was trying to control him by trying to forbid the family from getting him the food that he wanted. Luckily, they were all on my side and they all told her to go put a sock in it because we all knew he was dying. Who the hell cares what some food is going to do to your heart when you're dying of cancer! But what bothers me is that I feel like I contributed to that. I contributed to him not being able to get what he wanted when he wanted it and to him not having that little piece of control over his life. Having been in situations like that myself, I guess that's why it bothers me so much.
I know I was in an impossible situation and I did the very best that I could, but I still feel like, overall, I let him down in so many ways.
At the end of his life, I felt like I was fighting everyone just to give him what little dignity he could get. Everyone else seemed to be trying to take it away from him. My husband was a proud man and he always did things for himself. He never depended on other people, they depended on him. I tried so hard to make sure he had some control over what happened to him at the end of his life, but all the doctors and other people just refused to allow him to do things the way he wanted them done. And as I've said in another post on this thread, after he got referred to hospice, he died so soon after that happened, that I hadn't even wrapped my head around the fact that he was in hospice yet. It all happened so quickly there was no way I could keep up with it. I know it's pointless to beat myself up about this stuff now because it doesn't matter. He's dead. He's either not aware of any of it so it doesn't matter to him anymore, or he's in some wonderful paradise where it also doesn't matter to him anymore. The only one left to beat themselves up about it and worry about it is me.
He was my rock. He was one of those people that always had the answer, and if he didn't have the answer on his own, he would find it.
I won't say he never let me down because that's what people do, they let each other down, whether they mean to or not. But I know he never let me down on purpose. I just wanted so much to return the favor.
I have to stop now because I'm crying so much that I can't even see the screen of my phone. Thank you for letting me get this out though. I'm hoping that now that I've actually said it out loud, maybe it will stop floating around in my head and waking me up in the middle the night.
BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
Excuse me for being presumptuous, but a love this real, this deep, and this intense, i know that's what your husband carries with him now. It's so obvious you carry it with you too. Love this real doesn't fade - ever. And i know that hurts, but thank you for sharing your story.
Again, my presumptuous nature: you did return the favor. I don't think anyone here reading your posts could ever doubt that.
BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
Today is January 27th, 2020. With any luck this will be my last month-a-versary without you. I've now had 28 month-a- versaries without you. Three of them were also anniversaries. Each one has been horrific and painful when I looked at the calendar and saw the 27. I knew there would be no flowers or roses, no notes waiting for me saying happy anniversary, no coffee that you had made just for me, no cards, no donuts or other pastries, no candies or chocolates, no funny phone calls or voicemails, and none of the other million little things that you used to do for me on our month-a-versary and every other day. I knew I wouldn't get to experience the joy of telling you how happy I am that had just spent another month being married to you. We wouldn't get to go out to lunch or dinner or see a movie or just go for a ride in the car, or even just sit on the red sofa holding hands and watching TV. I miss doing those things with you, both on our month-a-versary, anniversary, and every other day. It's just not the same without you. There's no joy left in anything for me here. So with any luck I'll be coming to join you very very soon. As to whether or not I'll end up seeing you again, I don't know. I would like to think that I would see you again, but part of me is so tired of feeling all this pain, I think it might be better if things just ended and I didn't feel anything. Whatever happens, I know I won't be here and I assume that means I won't be suffering anymore. I hope that wherever you are you aren't suffering either.
I miss you and maybe I'll see you soon.
I love you with all my heart.
BlueWidow
Visionary
- Oct 6, 2019
- 2,179
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