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The Day My Life Changed
Exactly six months ago tonight I had my last conversation with my wife.
I made a blood donation and planned to go to a meeting but I felt compelled to spend the evening with Faye, my wife, who had been sick with the flu. Ordinarily, I would have gone to the meeting and talked in the morning. But that night I had to go home.
We talked for a while but my ordinarily chatty lady wasn’t herself. My last words to her were “Goodnight,” “I love you,” and “I’ll see you in the morning.”
When I got up, she was gone. The most energetic, health-obsessed woman in the world was gone, apparently from a heart attack.
My life has changed since then; of course, it has. But I’ve changed in many ways — some subtle, some not so subtle.
My heart is more tender. I seem to see grieving people everywhere.
Living by the values God has given me is much more important. I have much less patience with conversations that don’t offer value. Doing the important stuff now is more important. And I’m much less concerned about the opinion of others. I’m more patient with some things but less patient with others.
Oh, I also have two tattoos now.
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I agree.
There are no words.
I am so sorry, prayers for you and your family.
I can’t imagine such pain. Please accept my deepest sympathy.
“I seem to see grieving people everywhere.” God has given you a heart to see the suffering of others.
I see you’ve just joined us, @tgplett. Welcome. Opening your heart is a courageous and tender act, and I hope you find much comfort from spending time with us. So very sorry for your loss.
Strength to you, and welcome.
(And by the way, let’s see those tattoos.)
Such a sad story. And yes, a broken heart can be a blessing. I remember how, even in Massachusetts, drivers became courteous and generous for a week or so after 9/11.
I had open heart surgery years ago. That was scary. After that I was, like you, quite tender for some time. “Who cares about commas and sentence fragments and not reading the assignments,” said this English teacher. “It’s the students that matter.” But slowly as my fear of death lessened and my fine capacity for denial set in, I became less tender. We heal and we become tough again. But at least we can remember what Reality is.
“Life is short and full of sorrow, so be good to each other” seems to be the common theme of the religions.
And be good to yourself, too.
That had to have been a real shock. Welcome to Ricochet, and I hope we can add a little joy to your life.
I’m so sorry for your loss.
Losing a loved one is difficult in any circumstance, but sudden unexpected death is seems most painful.
Thank you for sharing, we can learn from your loss and recovery, which helps us when we find ourselves in a similar position of loss and grief..
I am so very sorry.
I am so sorry for the loss of your vibrant wife. Please feel at home here.
My sympathies for the loss of someone you loved.
As I get older, I am more aware of that ‘voice’ that tells me, go this way, talk to this person, do this, now. I’m glad you were able to be where you needed to be and said the things that needed to be said. Even in the midst of your grief, you are blessed. May God grant you comfort and peace.
If we were to treat others, especially family and friends as if each time we were together might be the last time, how much kinder and richer our lives would be. I am glad that God nudged you to spend that last time with your wife. I pray He will continue to comfort you and your family.
It’s been six months for me, too. I spent my first birthday in 45 years without her today. I went down to her grave today, and put flowers on them.
It is no easier if the death was expected.
Peace and consolation to you, TGP…Prayers, as well. So honored that you’ve trusted us here…A warm welcome to Ricoville!
Yes, sad, but there is a deep and profound love behind the life story Mr. Plett shares. Loss is powerful, and painful. It is good and healthy you can and did share. Part of the grieving process. Part of both letting go, and accepting, and moving forward, while embracing those beautiful memories. Painful memories too.
Glad you are here, glad that you trusted us to share your life and feelings.
Let us know if you need anything. Seriously.
TGP, Seawriter, thank you for sharing your grief. Grieving people are indeed everywhere. I lost Joyce, my wife of 25 years, in December 2004, she had just gotten ill a couple of days before and it turned into a fulminant pneumonia, she turned sour in a half hour and she died just like that while the ambulance wailed up our street. Her death was sudden and unexpected and awful. To die from a common cold, how medieval.
The first six months, the space you are just exiting, were the worst, with grief of course, with acting out, terrible judgement (but no tattoos), distrusting my kids, self-abusive and self-endangering behavior. My faith was shattered and I was unable to go to church. I stayed out of the house as much as I could.
The next half year was better, I began to grow out of the acute grief but still was not myself. Judgement was still impaired, behavior still erratic, but the self-abuse and -endangerment had gone. My faith was still hurt but I began to pray again and to trust in God’s providence for my childrens’ future and perhaps for my own.
The photo in my avatar is from this time.
I made my first reasonable personal decisions around the time of Joyce’s birthday, November after her death, almost a year.
You are still very hurting, very fragile men. Keep your faith, trust in God and have a trusted friend or relative to talk with regularly. Make no important decisions quickly and ask your kids or your best friends to keep an eye out for you, lest you begin to get crazy.
God bless you and may your late wives rest in peace.
I am so sorry for your loss; it took me over a year to recover from my live-in girlfriend’s death. You will move slowly from surviving to healing to growing. Blessings.
Gary
What are your tattoos?
Condolences on your loss.
And, welcome to Ricochet.
Sincere condolences to you.
I’m married for 26 years now, and my wife comes from a family that has a terrible habit of dying young, especially the females, I cry several times a week worrying about it. This is not healthy for me (or her), yet how do I NOT think of it now and then.
I’m glad you find strength in your faith, I can’t imagine how hard it was and will be for some time to come. How can you move on…without her? I’m misting up again here – I feel so much grief for you, and Seawriter. Not even sure what’s going on in me right now.
Curt:
Do not focus on losing her. Instead focus on enjoying the time you share together. Every day you share is a blessing. That is why I ended my post on my wife’s death with a request for everyone to give their spouse a hug, and to tell your spouse you loved them. You will never regret the times you do that. You will always regret the times you did not.
It is virtually inevitable in every marriage that one spouse will die before the other. The better the marriage the worse that is. I would not have missed the ride, however.
I’m so sorry. I’ve had a loss recently, but I’m not ready to write about it. I admire you for doing so.
The world is a beautiful place. It really is.
Hang in there. It gets better.
My experience has been the opposite. If a married couple has a good relationship and one dies, the other grieves and generally improves over time. If the couple fights all the time and has an awful relationship, after one dies, all the other one can think about is, “My last words to her were ‘Shut the f#$% up.'” The grieving does not improve over time – the regrets get worse and worse as they remember only the positives and forget what made their relationship so bad – it’s just poison.
So in my experience, the better the marriage, the better off the remaining spouse generally is. It sure doesn’t feel like it at the time, though…
@postmodern hopolite Let me tell you about my tattoos. (If this comment appears twice I apologize .)
My first is of a mountain with the sun rising above the summit. The words are “Inch by inch, day by day this mountain will be mine. Soli Deo Gloria.”
When my wife died so suddenly I felt I’d been in the death zone of a mountain, with no air to breathe, surrounded by rock and ice and no way up or down except inch by inch and day by day. The Sun is a reminder that beauty, and God, are always there if I but lift up my head and look. As my life moves forward, and it will, I want all honor to go to God.
The second has the words Gracias Senor, thank you Lord. The Spanish is because of a special trip to Colombia a number of years ago.
I was very serious in getting both. But now that I have two I probably need to obey the law of odd numbers .
@Dr. Bastiat I agree with you completely.
Thanks for sharing. I guessed that such was the case, and I appreciate the sincerity displayed in your explanation. (I’m not sure if you’ve attached any photos, as I’m using my phone for this.)
May the Lord bless you, comfort you in your grief, and hold you close in his arms.
I lost my husband many years ago and I’d like to say that the grief assuages, but it can return unannounced and pretty raw. And how not? We were meant to be of one flesh and tearing that flesh apart hurts. But the thought of no grief, even after a long period, seems to me inhuman, and if some of the grief arises because of guilt over one’s infirmities and omissions, well, that’s part of the deal, too. As @Doctor Robert described so well, the mind will gradually heal. The heart is something else, though, and yes, there are grieving hearts everywhere.
I would like to share a short passage from Wendell Berry’s story, Stand by Me, in which the narrator grieves for his nephew, killed in WWII. “And yet their absence puts them with you in a way they never were before. You even maybe know them better than you did before. They stay with you, and in a way you go with them. They don’t live on in your heart, but your heart knows them.”
I think that’s true. In many ways I know her heart better than ever before.
I will post photos when I have the opportunity.