There are so many topics we don’t address in relationships, and in our culture. At the end of Roger’s life we covered many of these (did you have a happy life, do you have regrets,) but, of course, we didn’t discuss the life I would have. Though we edged around it…me wondering/Roger: “I love to plan,” we didn’t. We couldn’t really, and then, he was gone.
When a loved one dies, especially one whose life is totally intertwined with your own (and I’m not talking about spiritually), you are faced with so many questions. Who needs a death certificate, how many copies will I need, don’t forget to turn off his phone, is the retirement account right for me? These are things you don’t really want to think about, but in a way they keep you tethered to life. So you make lists and slowly check things off.
The. garbage company needs a death certificate, but the credit card doesn’t? ATT needs a death certificate to turn off his phone? And so on. Forms. I gave myself a month before I really dived into the death business with the invaluable help of our son, who knows how to navigate websites and…well..everything, better than I do. By then Roger’s ashes had been returned to us. Vivien “what’s in there?” Me: “Grandfather’s ashes, in a plastic bag, in the box.” Vivien: “Can you open it so I can put my hand in?” Me: “not today.”
Zach and I did discuss memorial service with Roger…us: “do you want a memorial service?” R: “Since I won’t be there it really is up to you.” Oh. And of course the less esoteric problems like learning to food shop for only one person (why is there so much fruit here??)
Of course then there is this question to consider, who am I? After 54 years of “we,” am I even a whole person? How am I dealing with grief and making a new life and a new identity all at once? What gives me comfort? Can I ask for help? Will I?
For me, and for most of us whose partner lived with a grave illness, there was relief. (No more scans or chemo or nuclear medicine or trips to the oncologist to discover the numbers weren’t good.). A bit guilty for feeling relieved? Perhaps, but only natural? And then the inevitable dawning of the answer..the only available road is forward. So on I, and all of us eventually (or half of us) go. On I go.
On The Way 
You’ve got this Bonnie and you are not alone. Here to help — like the many friends who love you.
Dearest Bonnie, thank you for this brave and generous sharing of a glimpse of your journey through your profound loss of the remarkable Roger! I found myself nearly frozen in place in trying to think about the two of you, now the one of you. It tangled up with the confusion and loss that is still my ongoing experience of the loss of John. In the early days after his inconceivable death, I felt surprised when someone greeted me by name. I was so not who I had been with half of me gone… that left who? These are feelings and experiences that only those of us who are in this wretched club can perfectly know.
Thank you for opening this door and allowing our limited exposure to your experience. You are in my heart as is Roger. Love to you.
A friend described it as the sorority nobody wants to belong too…all love to you Sue-Del.
Bonnie, Thank you so much for your openness, insights and honesty. Dee
Thanks Dee..😘
Thanks Dee…xxoo
Bonnie, it was so nice to read your note about Rogers death. After almost three years I am still trying to answer the who am I question. I am not sure it will go away for me. Take care …and yes, 1 day at a time I try to move forward.
Peggy
That would surprise Bob and Roger maybe…since they were certain who we are. And some days have a little surprise in them…of varying kinds. 😘
Beautifully described and good for thought for those of us who must yet face this. Thank you, Bonnie.
Thanks BJ…xo to John
Well said.
Thanks Jo…as I read these comments I think of all these joyous people who are gone from us.
This sounds so familiar to me, Bonnie. I chose to go on too but it is a hard road, especially at first.
Christy
https://christywyckoff.com
But then, they sort ARE with us in a way. (One more joke would be good…)
Thank you Bonnie for your bravery and openness. I think I need to print this out and put it in a special place. David and I have been married 56 years. There are things you sort of plan for but other things you don’t. Or you just can’t. Sigh. Thank you so much.
You just can’t is too true. But that’s okay…just knowing that the surprises are out there is enough. xo Judy.
Beautifully written. I experienced the transition you describe 3 years ago when Dan, my husband of 59 years died following complications for a year from mini strokes. The hardest part was to describe myself as “I” rather than “we.” I would start sentences with “Dan and I” before catching myself. Today I am stronger, confident, and with my improving health, full of energy and hope. The journey has been challenging.
One result of our long relationship is that I’ve “grown up” to be a whole person, thanks to Roger. He, luckily, was born a whole person. Yours is a hopeful message Sandy, than you.
Thanks for sharing Bonnie!
Nice to see you recently…we’re still missing you down here. xo
That is incredible! You touched every emotion I had during George’s journey. Thank you for writing it so beautifully!
I wrote to somebody that great love brings great grief, but also healing power. XXOO
You are a beautiful, strong, and inspiring woman. Thank you for sharing your honest thoughts and insights into the crazy range of emotions after a life together.
Crazy is an apt description Dayna. Thanks so much for the move. xxoo
Dear Bonnie,
isn’t the idiotic bureaucracy of death incredible? Sometimes it’s enough to distract from grieving. I have dents in my desk from banging my head against it while dealing with the deaths of my parents. And: fruit salad.
Thank you Bonnie – for sharing. It helps more than you know. xo
Sorry for your loss. I haven’t met you but I totally love your blog! My husband passed away 6 years ago at 65. Take care of yourself and grieve how it works for you. The one book I discovered and loved is It’s OK That You’re Not OK by Megan Devine.
Kendra
The title says it all. xxoo
I filled out the forms for the grandparents, my father, and his aunt and uncle. Gave the death certificates, when the paperwork was over, to family that wanted them. Uploaded one to ancestry.com. It helped when family had everything written down. Really enjoyed seeing you yesterday at the studio. Love my chicken painting.
xxxooo glad you have the chicken!