It's been a little over nine months since my husband died. There are days when I struggle to find peace, but there is something about the natural cycle of nine months, for a woman, in particular, that brings a realization of completion.

Another Day in my New Normal.


Another day in my New Normal. The biggest challenge? How do I learn to be responsible for just me? How strange is that, anyhow? I can't recall a time in my life as an adult that I wasn't doing something to help care for someone else. As a daughter, and wife and mother the list was unending.

There were family needs that were loomed daily. Each child brought more responsibility, more care, more concern, more sleepless nights, wondering how to solve each and every one of the problems that crept up. Then little by little they left the nests, and my husband and I began to adjust to a life of the two of us.

Initially, it was strange, learning to just deal with each other. We are opposites in so many ways which is why I claimed we drove each other a little crazy a little each day!
I'm sure he got tired of me asking; what are you doing?
He enjoyed a little humor and would often respond: Zero Tasking!
We were new to the idea of just the two of us living alone in our little retirement home after leaving the family home of 36 years. It was difficult, especially at first. But we adjusted. We made it work. I got the bull-dog tenacity gene and we plugged along.

Sometimes it was overwhelming, exhausting, particularly in the dying process with my husband. For a few years, I often referred to him as my third hip. Everywhere I went, he tagged along!
It was new for him also. Suddenly he wanted to go to lunch with my lady friends! What? And he loved it. We have the picture of his great smile with my lady friends!
My life revolved around his every need, particularly when he was in the Hospice bed in our home those last few weeks.

Then it's done. Complete. Over.

After the family comes and the services are taken care of, it's a new kind of day.
That new day is one of challenges that never came up before. Everyone else in the family has their responsibilities: home, school, children,jobs, etc. continuing the balancing act.

I have, well, none. Nothing specific, anyhow.
How do I sleep through the night when I am not concerned about someone else? How do I turn off that ingrained listening ear that heard my children when young, then my husband when he was dying and his breathing changed.

What do I do with my days when there is no one else to take care of?
Don't get me wrong. I'm happy with my new freedom. It's just, well, different. The memories of the last days of the struggle in my husband's life were exhausting, especially as I was nursing broken bones in my foot, which wouldn't heal on schedule. Too much stress, not enough sleep. There was an end, but just out of view.

This is a new life.There are some perks. Everything stays where I put it. Now to remember where that is! My house is small. Can't be very far.

But? Why am I so emotional at times? I'm not sad or depressed, or lonely. Or maybe I just miss knowing I had some kind of calling that was greater than me. I'm not quite sure.

So now, I am learning the great expanse of freedom of directing my life totally on my terms and schedule. There is no manual, no requirements to meet, no right and wrong about any of it. I am in charge of my life, every day, every minute. Rarely does anything foil my plans.

I'm adjusting to the quiet; the supreme quiet of the house, day and night. I live in a very quiet area. It's so quiet at times, I can hear my own breathing and heart beat! Imagine my surprise when I didn't know, initially, I was listening to my own heart beat while lying in bed. Often I turn on the TV for company while at home. I get out and have lots of social contact, but when I'm home, sometimes it's just me and the computer and some friends (I have never met in person) chatting away enjoying the wonderful new technology.

I am looking forward to many trips and visits and vacations that were put on hold while my husband was so ill for several years. I'm on my own, with a little help from my friends! I live in a housing area that is very safe with a few valuable neighbors that look out for me. I am fortunate to have one adult son reasonably close by to take care of my needs that I am unable to handle.

Now, I am dealing with my age and a body that even though I like to think is still 50, is not! Medical needs arise and I struggle to keep one foot in front of the other. Nobody prepared me for an aging body either, but I'll get by, grateful for doctors and medicine. I shudder to think what my life would be like without that amazing help!

I saw an article about a man and women, married 65 to 70 years that died within under 12 hours of each other. I wondered? How is that possible. Now I know. There is something about 50 plus years with someone that leaves you with one part missing on some level. Some succumb to the illness that are placed on hold while they are needed by the other. When that is gone, they are able to let go.

While it would have been wonderful to have another 10 to 20 more years with my husband, I'm grateful for the time I have to live my new kind of life; looking forward to the surprises each day with a new kind of freedom and the incredible gratitude that I have so much more to enjoy in my life. It's all with a new perspective!

Thanks so much for your insights. I'm glad you're here.

Thank you for the many insights since his death. Your story reminds me of a close German friend whose wife died over a period of several years from schleroderma. In the final year he was taking care of her every need. Expecting her to go at any minute, he was still shocked when she finally passed. The loss was made even greater by no longer having no one to take care of. This kind of loss is a hard thing to get our minds around if we ourselves haven't gone through something similar.

Hope you are continuing to improve.

Love,
c

cludgie Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> It's the finality of the care giving that is a bit of a shock.
In my case, the care giving gradually increased until it was almost total. Then it's done.
Yes, indeed, it's a big adjustment!
It gets easier!
I think the biggest thing I notice is the total freedom!

Your story is my story. My biggest problem is cooking for one. I find I just snack. Hard to buy portions for one.

LCMc Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Your story is my story. My biggest problem is
> cooking for one. I find I just snack. Hard to
> buy portions for one.


My condolences.

Oh my yes! It's difficult to prepare a meal for just one. Even the smallest portions are twice what I want for a meal. Sometimes I crave a McD's hamburger! So I get one!

I tend to snack also; bits of this and that, trying to maintain a healthy diet.

Odd sleeping habits don't help.

Thank you for posting this, it was beautifully written. My mom was in hospice and passed away close to the same time as your husband. Reading your posts has helped me process my own grief.

Beautiful posting!

Yes! Thank-you, Susie.

I lost my dear guy just a few months ago. Your description is astoundingly similar.

My greatest crutch has been a grief group at the local hospital.

One of the terms I leaned is'uncoupled'. I don't feel single, and I'm not married. It's disconcerting. We'll get through it, but no one could prepare us for this.

That was really nice of you to share, Susie.

Each year I see more signs of aging. I'm learning to come to terms with it. Sooner or later we die or lose people we love. It's difficult.

I think sharing like you did helps others. I appreciate it.

I'm gradually losing my lifelong best friend to multiple sclerosis. She is in a nursing home now. I call her from time to time, but there is never any quality time because there are always bells clanging, machines beeping, nurses and aides and techs bustling in and out of her room, constant interruptions. And I can't write to her any more, because her eyesight is failing badly.

We have been like two helix strands in a DNA chain for more than half-a century. Always there for each other through junior high, high school, university, dating, marriage, kids, divorce, and now, the ravages of aging. So many body parts that used to work just fine, DON'T, any more.

We've told each other things we never even told our spouses. (Or parents, when we were younger.) We've shared "secrets" for decades.

And now, she is going downhill, fairly rapidly. And with MS, it generally goes in just one direction: down. The idea of losing her is like losing my own shadow; and yet, it is happening. I dread the phone call from her son that will come one day. And yet, knowing how she suffers and has suffered with this horrible disease, I'll be glad to know that she is free of it at last.

She has never been religious. In her case, I think that is probably a good thing.

But it hurts. Oh my, how much it hurts.

catnip Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
Yes, "catnip" this is the hardest part, I think. Watching and waiting. We want to hang on, but the illness is just so devastating we know there is no cure. There is a time, in my case, (and this has happened before) that we want the suffering to stop and end. It's time.

Know you are not alone. Most of us will experience something like it in our life. It's never easy, and doesn't get easier.

My best to you and your dear friend.

I cannot imagine all that you've gone through and still are going through in your grieving, and yet you can find it in yourself to share so that we might learn from your experience. Thank you!

Catnip-my heart goes out to you!

Losing our husbands and our best friends.....too painful to imagine.

How rich you both are having had such wonderful soul mates to travel this road of life together!!!