Dear Connie
I read your post and it triggered something in me; unbelievably (for me), it reminded me of my early posts after I lost my wife of 38 years, eight and a half years ago. I'm so sorry for your loss, and of course, for each of us the pain is different, but I can remember the deepest grief, yet only indirectly. Let me explain what I mean. As the days passed after her death I felt as though nothing was changing and that nothing could alleviate the agony and longing. People said to me that time will help, but that didn't make it any easier. For a long time I felt comforted in a strange way by my bereavement, it kept me close to her. I think after about six months, something changed, I realised, from a line in a song, that she was not coming back and that I had to try to move on. This was also a very hard time, but I worked at it. It was very much a case of 'two steps forward, one step back'. In the following six months I still suffered, but gradually I began to build up and savour new memories, I spent a lot of time with my son and daughter, and we helped each other by talking about Heather, my wife. I wish someone had told me the plain truth (for many people, though as I say we're all different), which is that no matter how you handle your grief, the heart seems to take care of itself, gradually, things eased for me. I read somewhere that there could be a time when I would experience days without thinking of her, but that seemed hard and disloyal. These days did occur, but I can't remember when, or how long after. Over eight years now, and there are times when she doesn't cross my mind any more than as a sweet memory, as if it all happened to someone else. We talk about her, and laugh all the time. Other advice I ignored was; sleep, eat and drink well, and look after your health. This is very important, it helps your immunity and gives you strength to continue. This is only my thinking on the subject. Please check out my early posts and you'll see that I was also lost and sad. It still saddens me when I think of her, but is a sadness that no longer burns inside me, it comforts me. I once thought I was an unlucky man to have lost her at the age of 56, but I now appreciate the fact that I was the luckiest to have ever even met her. Please accept my apologies for anything in this post which you might find callous or unfeeling, I am sensitive to your sad loss and just wish the best for your journey back to wholeness.