After Shocks Still Reverberate over Death; Death of Mate; Breast Cancer Consequences; How We Cope with Cancer Death

       Over Eight Hundred Days have passed since Wife died - suddenly - without warning - though we had lived with stage-four cancer for two years by that time. Yet, she died too soon . . have I stated that before?  Just in case, I'll repeat; SHE died too soon.
     The song "Just when I needed you most" reaps tears; "Too Old To Die Young" spins in my song cradle, and chokes my breathing passages.
   I share a couple of messages that have been shared on Facebook recently, referring to those of us who still mourn.   I will share two.

I am still struggling along with the sentiments of the first one, but have not yet arrived at the place suggested by the first one.  But perhaps I could suppose that I am moving on past the pain. I at least, most days, manage to hold down the crying to once per day.

Two Years in Mourning; Rememberances of Loved One; Cancer Continues to Rob; Life After the Loss of a Mate

Sara Evans sings, “There’s no place that far”. She is incorrect, for there IS a place too far – for me, at least at this time. Wife died over two years ago, and I miss her every day.  For a year – no, more (this week?) - I found (find) myself contemplating ways to join her. Members of my family keet telling me that I need to stay. Perhaps they are starting to make sense; perhaps not.

What do I miss about Wife? Let me count. No, there are too many. I miss her. Period. I keep seeing pictures of her from her childhood; teen years, school years; professional career; as an aunt, sister, parent;  grandparent. Posing; just natural; smiling; solemn; in pain. Natural hair; wig; scarf; hat. (Seven years of chemotherapy will do that.)

Perhaps she had to go. I’ve been told so. But, somewhere, deep inside, I continue to believe that there had to be a way she could have stayed.

But, I plan to keep slogging through the days, the weeks, and now, the years, until I find that far place. Perhaps she will remember me, and will be the first to greet me when I cross that river.  I can hope, can I not?

A friend posted this. I cannot equal this post. Read, and enjoy, or weep.



https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/12/the-secret-life-of-grief/281992/?utm_source=atlfb

Dealing with Death After 500 Days

Though Wife has been dead and buried (remember, no euphemisms) for well over 500 days now, she is still claiming visiting rights.  (She rode with me the first time I returned home after she had died, and has visited me often since, both as a spirit that I could feel, and as a director of, and actor in my dreams.

Recently, she began bombarding me with pointed dreams – informing me that; no matter what path I choose, I will ultimately reach the same destination; explaining that I should be more cat-personality, rather than dog personality; telling me that I need to divorce myself from life-binding responsibilities and organizations that are no longer relevant to me; that I must  prepare to be reborn.

  NONE of those dreams seem relevant to me – yet. I cannot fathom such a sea-change. AND, I am not ready to release Wife, which, I fear, is her ultimate goal. Her leaving would devastate me, for I have nothing nor no one who can even remotely replace her.

Now, here I sit, contemplating whether to tackle implementing her suggestions and risk losing her in the process, or to continue to be imprisoned in the past. What is a person to do?