Connie

I'm sorry for your loss. I can't begin to imagine how hard it is to lose a great life partner like Connie.
Terri

It was very odd Saturday morning.

I distinctly heard Connie's voice call out "Punkie!". That is short for the pet name we use for each other, "Punkin' Baby". The voice was her voice before her rapid down hill slide the past week or so. I was in a dead sleep on the couch next to her hospital bed. I happened to check my phone on the couch and it was exactly 5:30am. Not sure why, it just seemed important at the time.

So I got up to check to make sure she was still breathing. She was not. Her face was cold to the touch, but the back of her neck and torso were warm. I put an O2 sensor on her finger to check her pulse, and it was a straight line. Yeah, that is when I lost it. My Punkin' Baby had died. But somehow she called out to me in her passing.

Hospice was called and someone came out to verify that she was no longer alive. Then the funeral home was called and they took her body away. It is all a blur now. But I will never forget her face laying on the bed looking like wax and the fingers on her hands crossed across her chest being almost white. She looked so beautiful.

Now just to add to the weirdness, this morning I was awakened from a deep sleep, and felt I needed to see what time it is. It was 5:30am again. That was the only time I checked the time the entire night.

Real curious to see if that happens again. I sure would want to know what it means.

No idea what I am going to do with the rest of my life now. Connie's two sisters are still here, but soon they will need to return to their own lives. Being here all alone is going to be very trying, at best. Hopefully the meds I have been taking for just over a week will be able to pull me through with my sanity intact. But I really feel fragile and brittle around the edges.

I'm so sorry to hear that you lost your beautiful wife. I'm glad she was at home, and had you and her sisters caring for her. Please take care of yourself the way she'd want you to. That is the legacy of love and how the death of someone so close is survivable.

Both of Connie's sisters left yesterday, so this was the first day in the house all alone. Just really spent most of the day bouncing from room to room, looking out the windows at the rainy, crappy weather outside.

I guess I will get somewhat used to this eventually. At least that is what people tell me. They also tell me I will need to move on, but no one can tell me exactly what I would be moving on TO.

I am truly sorry for your loss Rich. Wishing you peace during this difficult time.

Today would have been my 46th wedding anniversary with Connie. :awcrap:

Rich, my girlfriend of 6 years passed away 6 years ago. And that was absolutely devastating to me. I can't imagine what it would be like losing someone you spent an entire lifetime with. My thoughts and prayers are with you.

I think the phrase that most often comes to my mind when I think of doing anything out on the property, or anything at all, is "Why bother?"

People tell me I should get out and travel. Why bother?

I bought a tractor to make some walking paths through out woods. Why bother?

I thought of getting the steps to the front porch and side porch redone. Why bother?

Thought of replacing the dead citrus trees with something. Why bother?

When I wake up in the morning and think of getting up. Why bother?

Rich, I think most all of us have at some point, experienced loss, grief, depression, what have you. Rather than encouraging me to stay busy, a wise friend once advised me that it was OK to be completely unmotivated for a period of time, and that when I was ready to go and do, and be myself again, I would know. Hang in there and eventually you will want to be active again. Best wishes to you.

Problem is, I really don't know what "be myself" means without Connie.