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16 Weeks Today


teriw

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This morning I woke up with a pit in my stomach like I haven't felt in a little while. Actually, it started last night. Then I realized that today marks 16 weeks since I lost my precious Bill. In some ways it feels like he was never here -- like it was all a phantom life I wish I had. In other ways, I think he's still here and he's just downstairs, or working outside, in the next room writing at his computer, or off at the card club trying one of his new "plans!"

My step-son turns 22 this Friday. For one of his gifts, I've sent him a side-by-side picture frame. On one side, two pics of he and his dad when he was little. One pic when he's only nine. They're on the teacup ride at an amusement park in England. You know, that horrible ride that makes you sick just watching. The other was of him sitting next to his dad, proudly showing the model military helicopter they had just completed. He was 11 then. How I remember that triumphant moment! The other side has two more recent photos. One of he and Bill making the same silly face -- they're like twins at times, except Bill was even more of a trouble-maker! Another one where they're at the shooting range here in Los Angeles (they both look so handsome). Something Bill only did when the kids came. An activity you couldn't do so readily in England. They loved it.

Besides being flooded with memories, I was overwhelmed with how "healthy" Bill looks in these photos. Cancer is so insidious. One day you look fine but have some weird symptoms, the next day your world is shattered with a diagnosis you never expected. Then after months of [watching your loved one] enduring treatments and tests and ups and downs, we -- the loved ones -- find ourselves here. Feeling the same shock again. No matter how sick he may have been, one day Bill is still here with me -- we're still in it together. The next day(s), you're looking around wondering what happened and why the house is so quiet and how could it possibly be true? And no matter how many loved ones you're blessed with, there is no replacement. There can never be. And all that he's missing. I have to believe he's not really missing it, that he can see it.

Sixteen weeks -- feels like a second and an eternity.

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Oh I understand so well what you are feeling and how much it hurts. Just thank God everyday that you have those precious memories. I don't know how I could have survived without mine.

This next month is really hard for me because everyday holds a memory and most of them were not the best. The thing is I treasure every memory, even the bad days because I had my Johnny with me so how could they be all bad?

Just hang in there. It really does get easier but you are still in the early stages of this condition we live with known as grief and hearbreak.

Just seems this year is harder on me than last because it is the 5th aniversary of Johnny's death coming up on December 2nd. Some how that makes it harder. I have lost many loved ones over the years and they all took a part of me with them and left part of themselves with me. As much as it hurt none hurt as much as losing Johnny did.

Someone on this board once said it is because we are no longer the most important person in someones life. How true that is. Our kids have their spouses and their kids and our siblings have their families. We realize that we have no one left to plan a future with. No one who depends on us and we depend on every single day. It makes it very hard.

One thing I have learned is that being alone does have it's good side. There are a lot of things I do that I never could have done if not alone. I've learned to tell myself that is good. Maybe it is and maybe not but we have to have something to hold on to.

Never doubt that your Bill is still with you. Remember always that he is just a breath away.

I'm sorry I came here to comfort you and ended up telling you about myself. I just hope maybe you can get a little peace from my experience.

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Teri,

I completely understand. Sometimes I wake up and ask myself what the heck just happened. After my father passed, I would have dreams about him and then wake up to discover the horrible truth. It all seems so cruel. And you are absolutely right, it does seem like an eternity somedays and other days like it just happened yesterday. I look at my life and see that I am only 27 and realize that I have so many more years (if blessed to live a long life)without him. It sucks! :cry:

Rochelle

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What a wonderful gift you gave to your step-son. I'm sure that is something he will cherish always.

Some days I feel like Joe being gone must be some kind of dream. Other days I think that our lives together must be some kind of dream. I still can't reconcile in my mind that he could be here beside me one day, and just gone the next.

I am experiencing many of the same emotions that you are. It's so sad that we have so much company in the 'grieving' section. But if we had to go through this, I'm glad we have each other to lean on.

I'm so sorry for your pain. Sending you a (BIG HUG).

Peace,

Nanci

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Terri,

Your posts always seem to say exactly what I am feeling or have felt at some time in the past. Your gift of writing is a treasure. Your generosity of sharing your feelings is priceless. I just want to say thank you Terri, for being who you are.

Love, Sharon

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Hi Terri. I can not seem to make myself believe that Beverly is gone. When my mind goes there, I won't let it stay. I think that I know how you feel though. I really believe she is still around. Just little things that make me feel her presence sometimes. Her and Bill are probably up there somewhere partying and telling stories about us. I know they are happy. That is a great B-day present. I know he will be thrilled.

I love to read your posts. How is that book coming?

Love to you,

Bobby

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Thanks to all for your thoughtful replies. There are just so many new people in this section that it's heartbreaking.

This "grief" thing is definitely a process. Something happened to me just yesterday--obviously a part of the feelings I posted about. My niece described it best when I showed up for my Monday night babysitting. First she asked if I was okay. I told her I was, but that I felt very sad (which immediately brings her own tears). The kids were an extra joy last night. So cute (Sophia 2 1/2 yrs, Jack 1 yr. in Dec). They're both experiencing milestones in their young lives. Sophia's "almost" potty trained, and proud of it. Jack Jack, as we call him, is just walking (or stumbling).

Then as she came home, she was still concerned. She described it as me coming off a sugar high, because apparently I'm usually "bubbly" when I arrive. It's kind of like that. The ability to really feel the sadness, rather than the frantic energy I had been going on these months. I have been going days being hyper and never stopping, then falling apart. I don't know if it's a real shift, or a temporary change. The sadness is extremely difficult, yet I want to feel it because it's real and oddly, I'm closer to Bill with it.

Bobby -- not working on any books just yet. All in good time though. He deserves my best, and I can't give it yet. I agree, I KNOW Bev and Bill have met properly now. Maybe they can better understand each other's accents!

For everyone who has a very recent loss, be kind to yourselves and don't have expectations of how you "should" be acting, or what you "should" be doing.

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Teri,

Your words, “frantic energy” sure describes the way I felt while my Mom was sick. The “rollercoaster ride” that we’ve all been on just doesn’t stop when our loved ones are gone. “Frantic catch up” was what I was doing after she passed. Looking back on it now, it felt like I had gotten off of 1 rollercoaster only to jump on a bigger rollercoaster and this time I was riding it alone, without her.

I was so busy, I had to stay strong, I had to hold it together. Then, after a few months, it dawned on me that I felt like I hadn’t grieved for her. But how can you grieve for somebody that you don’t totally believe is gone? Then I felt robbed and cheated of my chance.

Teri, it’s very normal to push back the sadness and the pain. Sometimes that’s the only way to make it through the day. I really wanted to feel it, wrap myself in it but sometime it was just too much. Time does help. It's just a little over 2 years since I lost Mom and I’m still grieving, it’s still painful but I continue to hold her close in my heart.

Wishing you peace,

Patty

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Your post (posts) brought me to tears.

They also scared me, because I don't think I'll be able to be as brave as you all seem to be, when and if the time ever comes that I'm in your situation.

I don't know how you do it ~~ any of you.

I prayer every night for comfort for you, (Teri, Nyka, Debi, and everyone else here who is going thru this) , but I wonder how you can be comforted, when you've lost someone you loved so very much?

If I could fix it for you , I promise I would. :cry:

With love and prayers,

Nova

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