spectratg
Senior Member
- Location
- Adamstown, MD
I’ve seen some recent posts from newly widowed women. You have my deepest condolences.
I have been widowed for over 7 years now, after 42 ½ years of marriage. Yes, I’m painfully aware of the fact that what would have been our 50th wedding anniversary is fast approaching.
I’d like to express some of my thoughts on what this traumatic experience has been for me.
My wife’s health had been in gradual decline for several years. But her death was sudden and unexpected. She had had double knee replacement surgery (the day after her birthday) and died less than 4 weeks later due to sepsis. We did not even know that she had it until the day before her death. Because of her poor health, her body did not have any reserves to fight the infection. She did not linger in her suffering.
My daughters and I were with her when she passed. They each had a chance to talk to her and she was responsive up until a few hours before her death.
I don’t know how I could have survived without the love and support of my daughters in the weeks and months (and years) after the death of their mother.
Several months after my wife’s death, I attended a series of grief support meetings with other men who had recently become widowed. For a few hours each time, we laughed and we cried and we talked. Each of us coped with our loss in different ways, but the meetings did help us to realize that the experience we were going through was not unique. That was cathartic. These were men that I had never met before or seen since, but for short periods of time we were members of a common brotherhood that none of us would have ever wanted to belong to, grieving together.
I don’t know if I think about my wife every day, but she certainly is never far from my thoughts.
There is the loneliness of course, not being able to share the mundane aspects of daily life with someone. The long-term feeling for me has been a deep sense of loss, like half of my brain and my memories to that point in time are now gone. And the helpless feeling that my life experiences since then, most especially those with my daughters and their families, are no longer part of our shared consciousness.
I have been widowed for over 7 years now, after 42 ½ years of marriage. Yes, I’m painfully aware of the fact that what would have been our 50th wedding anniversary is fast approaching.
I’d like to express some of my thoughts on what this traumatic experience has been for me.
My wife’s health had been in gradual decline for several years. But her death was sudden and unexpected. She had had double knee replacement surgery (the day after her birthday) and died less than 4 weeks later due to sepsis. We did not even know that she had it until the day before her death. Because of her poor health, her body did not have any reserves to fight the infection. She did not linger in her suffering.
My daughters and I were with her when she passed. They each had a chance to talk to her and she was responsive up until a few hours before her death.
I don’t know how I could have survived without the love and support of my daughters in the weeks and months (and years) after the death of their mother.
Several months after my wife’s death, I attended a series of grief support meetings with other men who had recently become widowed. For a few hours each time, we laughed and we cried and we talked. Each of us coped with our loss in different ways, but the meetings did help us to realize that the experience we were going through was not unique. That was cathartic. These were men that I had never met before or seen since, but for short periods of time we were members of a common brotherhood that none of us would have ever wanted to belong to, grieving together.
I don’t know if I think about my wife every day, but she certainly is never far from my thoughts.
There is the loneliness of course, not being able to share the mundane aspects of daily life with someone. The long-term feeling for me has been a deep sense of loss, like half of my brain and my memories to that point in time are now gone. And the helpless feeling that my life experiences since then, most especially those with my daughters and their families, are no longer part of our shared consciousness.
