Tag: secrets

Peace, Love, and Grief – Secrets (Part 2)

Note: This particular blog was started last week. If you missed it, I suggest that you go back and read it first to understand this week’s blog.

As I said last week, many of the things I am going to write about today, I have mentioned before. However, not in this amount of detail and definitely not put together like this… and there is something new… Something I just learned last weekend…

For over a week now, I have spent most of my time trying to decide when a person’s privacy crosses the line to keeping secrets… especially in a marriage. Most of us have heard the saying “Dead men tell no tales”, which is probably true about a lot of things. However, when you start digging, you learn that quite often ‘dead men keep no secrets’…

Last week, I talked about subtle changes in Bruce’s behavior before he died. Signs I probably should have noticed and pieced together, but I didn’t. I wasn’t expecting him to die, so I wasn’t looking for any such signs. When something seemed odd, I asked and he gave a plausible answer, so I simply took him at his word.

This week, I remembered a few other changes that occurred near the end. For example, we had always dreamed of buying a boat big enough to sail the Caribbean when we retired, which meant we had spent years going to boat shows and seeing what options were out there. However, during the last few months, whenever I mentioned a show to him, he wasn’t interested. When I asked if that was still our long-term plan, he responded, “We just bought a house. Let’s just wait until it is closer to that time… Then, we can see what’s out there.” I was surprised. Knowing it was off in the future had never stopped us before, but it wasn’t worth arguing about, so I shrugged it off.

Then, there was a frantic search during the last couple of months, as he tried to purchase more life insurance. Yes, that would have been a big clue, except his reason made sense. According to him, his current policy was going to expire in a few months, and it only had his daughter as a beneficiary. He wanted to double it and add me. Okay… that made sense, but the ferocity with which he pursued this goal was crazy. (And because the Universe has a sense of humor, the approved policy paperwork, which only needed his signature to be binding, arrived the week after he died.)

Okay… so you get the picture…

Then, that awful night happened… I woke up in the middle of the night, called 911, did CPR, and watched Bruce die in my arms despite everything. As a consequence, I have spent years in therapy processing the trauma of my failure in that moment… Learning to live with the fact that the one time he truly needed me, I completed failed him.

After he died and all of his and my family were here, we quickly realized something else that was odd… Every piece of paperwork I needed to take care of all the “business” of death was stacked on the kitchen counter. He always kept a stack of paperwork there – bills, receipts, etc. So, I hadn’t noticed as that stack grew over the months… I didn’t think anything about it, and I never went through it. (We were both very respectful of each other’s things, including mail and paperwork.)

To me, finding the contents of that stack of papers was beyond weird… It was at that point that I started questioning if he had known something was wrong… if he knew he was dying.

When the Medical Examiner finished his autopsy (four months later), he kept assuring me that there was nothing I could have done that night. Bruce’s heart was twice the size it should have been. The only way he could have survived was to have a heart transplant. (Even in that moment, I knew that was something Bruce would never have done… He just wouldn’t.)

Many months later, when I was finally cleaning out his dresser drawers, I came across some paperwork from his doctor. It was for some lab work. Because I found it hidden under all of his clothes, I assumed he had never taken care of it, but it definitely fueled my suspicions even more.

At the same time, there was no way to prove what he did or didn’t know one way or the other. So many times, I thought back to that conversation when we lived in the apartment and after a battery of test, he reported that the doctor said to “keep doing what you’re doing”.

All of this I have mentioned in other blogs. I have even stated that if he knew, but chose not to tell me, there is a part of me that would understand. My thought was that he was probably trying to protect me, or maybe he was trying to ensure that our last months together were just normal without the pallor of death hanging in the air between us, (or me crying endlessly).

Then last Saturday happened…

I was setting up a new Wi-Fi router and moving some stuff around to make room. One of the things I moved was a bunch of old, half-used notepads. I use them for grocery lists, reminders to myself, scratch paper, and whatever else.

I picked up a handful, and an old stenographer’s notepad fell to the floor. When it landed, it was open to the last page. Immediately, I recognized Bruce’s handwriting. As most of you can probably relate, finding something handwritten by our lost loved ones is precious! I quickly picked it up and started to read.

It took me a minute to realize what I was looking at… On the page, there were four neat columns labeled, ‘Date’, ‘Procedure’, ‘Dr’, and “Facility”. Then, under those labels were over 20 tests and procedures. Most were for his heart and lungs, with a couple that were neurological, and even one test at a Cancer Center.

To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I dropped that pad like it was on fire. Inside, I felt like I had just been hit by a train head-on. I took the paper and immediately started looking up each test/procedure, each doctor, each facility, and each date.

HE KNEW… He really and truly knew. There was no longer any doubt.

Before, when I didn’t know for sure, I thought I could understand why he might have chosen not to tell me. However, now that it was in my face, I didn’t feel so understanding… I was a veritable explosion of emotions – and none of them were good.

The tears were flowing… I was overwhelmingly sad that he went through all of this by himseslf. How absolutely awful!!

I, also, felt intense anger when I thought about all the things that might have happened… He was a truck driver… What if he had been driving when his heart stopped?? He might have killed a lot of people – families and children.

Then there is the fact that I have spent over 13 years dealing with the trauma and guilt of not being able to save him that night, only to now realize that to an extent he chose to die. This was his choice. Yet he never said a word.

Plus, there were so many loose ends business-wise because we didn’t have a will. Did he really think it was fine to just let me try to figure it all out by myself??

Admittedly, there were also all the feelings of distrust and betrayal… This was a life-altering decision that affected both of us, and yet, he had not included me… That fact was truly hard to comprehend.

Was this a trust issue? Was this because we both hated confrontation? (I know I would have argued for him to live… so maybe??) Did he really prefer going through all of that alone? Did he mean to leave me out? Was he trying to figure out how to tell me? I couldn’t figure it out… None of it made sense.

It was all too much, and I was almost catatonic by the next morning. I even struggled to stay focused when I was getting dressed… It took me almost four hours that morning, because I kept finding myself getting lost in all those emotions and thoughts.

At this point, I want to be clear… I was angry and hurt, but at no point did my love for Bruce diminish. We all get angry at or hurt by the people we love on occasion. It just is. You can love a person and still be angry and hurt. The difference is that with a live person, you can have the hard conversation. That was not an option for me. Still, I knew once I could find a path to process all the emotions, I would be okay, but I just wasn’t sure how to get there.

Finally, on Wednesday, while talking to my mom, she mentioned that she could tell something was wrong and did I want to talk?… I unloaded… I cried as I told her everything. Her compassion and empathy were like a balm… She assured me that I wasn’t crazy for feeling all those emotions. Then she asked, “May I give my perspective?”

I agreed, but in my mind, I bristled at the thought. What perspective could she have that was relevant? She and my father are (thankfully) both still alive and well. She has never been through anything like this before.

Then she spoke, “My generation was one of the first to divorce their spouses in large numbers due the fact that women were finally able to have bank accounts, get credit cards, mortgages, and jobs. And when they remarried, usually their new spouses were also divorced. And while they loved each other, they couldn’t help but bring some of the hurt and baggage from their first marriage into the second. Learning to trust a spouse after being betrayed, abused, or hurt by the first spouse is a difficult thing. Many times, they would respond to each other as they would with their ex’s, even when they knew better or didn’t mean to. Many times, it might have felt like reopening an old wound even though things were completely different.”

I thought about what she said… She wasn’t wrong. I knew I had responded to Bruce as if he were my ex many times – with fear and dread of being physically hurt. Bruce was always patient and kind when that happened. Yet, I struggled with old patterns. For his part, he often talked about the hurt and betrayal he had felt in his first marriage… So, yes, we both had some baggage that we brought into this marriage to each other… And learning to trust was something we worked on within ourselves and together.

I also talked to Bruce’s family this week, and they were as stunned as I have been. They also shared that he had always been extremely private – rarely sharing with anyone when life was a struggle. Yet, they said that he had shared more with me than he had ever shared with anyone before… There are a lot of things I knew that they had never heard before, but after hearing them, his actions and choices made a lot more sense.

So… was he being private or keeping secrets? I think he was a private person who ended up keeping secrets because, maybe, he wasn’t sure how to trust and speak up… And maybe as time passed, that just got harder.

Once I realized all of that, suddenly, I wasn’t as angry… Suddenly, I could release all of those negative emotions and thoughts rattling around in my head. My heart still breaks that he went through all of that alone, and I wish we could have faced it together. However, I finally feel like, after 13+ years, I can put all the pieces into the puzzle. Finally, so much that didn’t make sense before makes sense now.

… And if I’m lucky, maybe this will be a BIG step on this grief journey that I call life…
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Secrets (Part 1)

Many of the things I am going to write about today (and next week), I have mentioned before. However, not in this amount of detail and definitely not put together like this.

When does being a private person cross the line into keeping secrets? Let’s talk about it and see where we land. I know the saying “Dead men tell no tales.” However, I would also say that ‘dead men keep no secrets’…

When Bruce and I were dating, one of our only real arguments happened because he lied to me. I knew immediately he was lying and called him out on it. He owned it at that point, and I let him know that lying was the one thing I couldn’t tolerate. I may not always like what I hear, but nothing can be fixed or understood if it is covered in a lie. I told him then that I would walk away if he ever lied to me again… At the very least, we both deserved the respect of the truth between us.

He agreed and apologized… As far as I knew, he never lied to me again. However, there was another dimension to this.

When we met, I knew right away that he was a very private person. If I had a question, I was free to ask; he was never offended. However, I quickly learned that he was not going to answer if he didn’t want to… He would open up to me eventually, but only in his own time and in his own way. For example, we were already engaged before he finally shared that he was on medication for high blood pressure and avoided certain foods and beverages because of it.

He didn’t make a big deal of it, and I didn’t either. I knew he always had a thorough annual physical, because of his job. Plus, he was very health conscious – working out, watching what he ate, getting a good night’s sleep, taking his vitamins… You name it, he did it. (Granted, he loved his beer, but I love my wine… and if you have ever spent a winter in Michigan, that is completely understandable. LOL) Overall, we were both on the same page when it came to taking care of oneself.

Fast forward to the year we moved down here to Florida for my job. We were both excited to live in the Sunshine State where (compared to Michigan” it would be summer year-round. We agreed to live in an apartment for the first year, while we sold our condo in Michigan, Bruce found a job here, and we got a feel for where we might want to live.

Bruce found a job within about six months, and life moved on. When he went for his annual physical that year, we both had some concerns about things we had begun to notice… little things… You know… those things that you are not sure if they are a symptom of something wrong or just a sign of growing older. I remember the doctor ordering several tests, but Bruce never shared what kind of tests they were. As usual, I left that in his hands, trusting that he would share when he was ready.

On the day when he went to discuss the results with the doctor, he reported back that she had told Bruce to “just keep doing what you’re doing.” (And yes, that is the exact quote he gave me.) I shook my head… “You’re lying,” I accused.

“I’m not,” he laughed… And so, that night we toasted to his good health.

A few days later, he brought up the idea of starting to look for a house. Our lease would be up in a month or so, and we needed to make some decisions about where we wanted to settle down. We both wanted to be near the beach but struggled to agree on which town. I remember one night he came home very excited. He had found a little coastal town where the houses were affordable, and our commutes to work would be about the same. That weekend, we drove out to this little coastal town, fell in love, and within a few months, we were moving in.

It was fun and exciting to have a place that truly felt like it was ours. At that time, he was off on Thursdays and Sundays, while I had a traditional schedule with Saturdays and Sundays off. We both tended to use Thursdays and Saturdays, to do some work around the house and to do some fun things on our own. Then, Sundays were our sacred time, because we were together, and we spent the day playing.

I remember one Thursday night after I came home, he made a comment that the dishes from the night before were still in the sink. Now, please understand that we had organically divided the household chores from the start. When it came to the kitchen, he unloaded the dishwasher and I loaded it. If there was handwashing to do, that was negotiable.

So, for me, there were two things wrong with the comment he made, and I let him know… 1. The dishes were still in the sink, because he had not emptied the dishwasher for me to reload it. 2. He had been home all day, and could have emptied it at some point, and even reloaded it if it bothered him that much.

His response, “Do you really think it’s fair that I should spend my day off, doing work around the house?”

I almost lost it… “Yes, I do! What do you think I am doing on my day off? We both work full time, and we are both capable of doing things around the house.”

He immediately apologized, and I immediately told him that if he wanted… and if we were careful to budget… I didn’t mind if he retired early, while I continued to work. I knew he wasn’t thrilled with his job, while I loved mine. Then, he would have plenty of alone time to putter around the house or play. While I know the idea was tempting, he never left his job.

There were things over the next several months that happened, but I wasn’t really paying attention… And even when I did notice, they seemed like little things… Things he would share when he was ready.

For example, he worked out less and less until after a few months, he was only going to the gym once a week and to only work his arms or legs… no cardio…no core. Strange, but definitely his choice. Sometimes while watching TV, I would notice him massaging his chest, but when I asked if he was alright, he would smile and say something about not realizing he was doing that.

These were the subtle signs of what was coming, but I had no idea. I wasn’t expecting him to die, so I definitely wasn’t looking for the signs. I simply took him at his word.

Then, that awful night happened… I woke up in the middle of the night, called 911, did CPR, and watched Bruce die in my arms despite everything. I have spent years in therapy processing the trauma of failing him in that moment… Learning to live with the fact that the one time he needed me, I failed… As I’m sure you can tell, I can still fall down into the rabbit hole of depression when I think about it for too long. I don’t think that will ever completely go away…

(To be continued next week)
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.