Grief A Year Later … What Helped & What Didn’t
I write in a journal to Lou (my husband) since he has been gone and it has been very therapeutic. When he was alive we talked all the time about everything. I’ve found that writing to him has helped appease that need for conversation, so I write.
When you experience a death of someone very close, your whole life changes. So much in the day-to-day was incredibly painful. Slowly, I found ways of dealing with challenges that started to help. I think many people experience the changes I faced …
Here are some things I allowed to get me down at first, and a few things I found helpful:
6 Things That Got Me Down:
1. Being alone too much: To suddenly be alone at 67 years old took time to adapt. At first I hated it and went around in a fog. Now after a year, it is getting better, more enjoyable and allows me to accomplish things.
2. Meals alone: My friend insisted I come for dinner several nights a week for the first few months. What a blessing! I helped with groceries and did dishes and it was great.
3. What to do with weekends?: Working the week with all my emotions stuffed often made the weekend not much more than a time of tears. I was kind to myself and accepted the pain, and it has gradually diminished.
4. Making all the decisions: The cars broke down, the computer crashed, the printer died, the wiring to the electronics went bad, the roof in Michigan leaked, I forgot to pay bills, one of the dogs died, and on and on. How to handle it all???
5. Not enough sleep: I dreaded going to bed, then couldn’t sleep. Too little sleep made my emotions worse.
6. Too much to do and only me to do it: At first I did not accomplish much. Now I make lists and do at least one thing a day.
10 Things That Have Helped:
1. Journaling: Writing out my concerns to Lou and then sleeping on it helped me come to the answers I needed often right when I woke up.
2. Prayer: I look to God to heal my heart and to give me purpose. Things that are too much for me, I give to Him in prayer.
3. Walking: Making myself go for a walk with the dogs clears my brain. Often it seemed to be a safe place to cry and talk to Lou while I walked and came back refreshed.
4. Accepting all invitations at first. I took every opportunity to socialize and be with others. Even if I didn’t feel much like talking, I absorbed the liveliness around me and it lifted my spirits.
5. Remembering to eat: When I forgot to eat or ate poorly I felt worse. When I ate more nutritiously: salads, vegetables, meat and fruit, I coped better.
6. Music or Television. Background noise comforts. Unless I am reading, praying or meditating, I usually have music going.
7. Spending time with family: My daughter is very thoughtful to plan family time that includes me. This grounds me and helps me realize I still have a family.
8. Have a goal: I decided to attack the lofty goal of paying off the mortgage. It is daunting, but I put every extra dollar towards it and it gives me purpose and direction and keeps me from overspending.
9. Hugs, human touch: When I needed a hug, I gave a hug. When I needed to hear “I love you”, I said it to a family member or someone I was close to.
10. Remember: I have allowed myself to remember. I have embraced the pain. I stood out in the dark beneath every “Annie’s Moon” for the past year and probably always will. I watch the videos Lou left me. His chair is still on the sidewalk. I still go to Dana Point when I can and sit on our bench with our dog Bella. We even celebrated his birthday last month with a party.
I’ve decided that grief over losing your spouse is like trying to recover from something you don’t totally want to get over.
You want to feel better, but not if it means losing any of the memory. You have to do positive things, mindful, productive things to move into a healthier place. You have to want to become useful again to yourself and others.
And yet, since Lou’s “Babe” is who I was for 73% of my life, it will never be something I can forget or lose. So I try things, see what does and what doesn’t work. I mostly try to be kind to myself. The one thing Lou said repeatedly in the short videos he left was: “Be Happy! Do it for me, Babe”
So, that is what I am trying to do.
|| what do you think?
Can you relate to any of these good or bad?
Has your journey differed from mine? What has it looked like for you?
48 Comments
Anne, thank you so much for sharing this. Your advice is honest and comes straight from the heart. I especially loved advice #4 accepting all invitations and how spending time with people lifted your spirits!
Sometimes when I’m doing something, a memory of my mom will pop into my head and I’ll write it down. It’s nice to read through them once in awhile; it’s funny but the memories of my mom doing simple tasks a certain way are the ones that are the most comforting.
Lauren,
I read a story once about how a family passed down how to cook the turkey because mom did it that way and because grandma did it that way before her. They all had to cut off the tail of the bird before it was roasted, thinking it made it taste better. It turned out that the truth of the matter was grandma did it because it happened to fit in the pan she was using for the size of the bird that year. Thus, a tradition was started, even though it was for the wrong reason.
Your mom’s traditions, no matter what her logic was, can comfort you as you follow them.
Love,
Anne
Dear Anne, this blog has me in tears. I love reading your blogs about your experience of losing Lou to cancer. You have a way with words that really resonates with me & I know it’s the same for the others that also enjoy your blogs. I can’t thank you enough for baring your soul in each & every writing you have done. You are so inspiring- you give hope by expressing your pain- so many are nourished by your truth. Thank you for being one of the most amazing women I have ever known. I love you. Carrie
Carrie,
You also have a way with words. And when you write so tenderly, as you did in your comments, you nourish and feed my soul and I love you for it.
Annie
Dear Anne,
Thank you so much for sharing yours and Lou’s journey. Your honesty and down-to-earth suggestions have not only helped you so much through your pain, but will also go a long way to help others to find their way through to healing. You are amazing and an inspiration to me every day!
Love,
Rosemary
Gosh, Rosemary, thank you! I am glad to know I inspire you. It feels good to start seeing some good out of something so sad and tragic for me, anyway.
Love
Anne
Anne, thank you for sharing all those things with us. We just don”t realize how debilitating a death can be. Thank you for being so open and honest.
I guess Mitch, it is a bit different for everyone. I keep thinking I should be better than I am. Hope it helps you, as you help our families. And I hope it doesn’t get more personal than that for you for a long time.
Anne,
It is hard for me to even imagine the extent to which your heart has been broken by the loss of Lou. I have loved deeply, but not had a soulmate such as your Lou to do life with. I think of what it will be like to lose those closest to me, but it can’t compare because they are not with me every day as he was with you.
I am grateful that you share so much of your journey with us. I love your complete honesty, not only about what the last year has looked like, but right to me about what I can and can’t do to help. It takes true love and friendship to be willing to be ourselves and tell others specifically what we need. I am honored to have that kind of relationship with you.
I am here for as many hugs or “I Love You’s” as you need.
Big Hugs,
Lori
Lori,
Now you’ve done it! I have it in writing and you are right around the corner, so I expect a bunch of both over the years. I am so thankful for each and every one of my work family. You all have helped me in more ways than you know. Thank you for being there for me in many ways, all the way back to the beginning of this journey, when it was food from Mother’s Market.
Love
Anne