Comments on: The Only Person I Really Want Right Now, by Ann Suther

By: Adekemi

Adekemi — Fri, 14 Sep 2007 18:18:51 +0000

My life was torn apart in June 30, 1998. its a long time isn’t it? but to me it’s like yesterday. I wonder why time refused to heal my wound. It is still very fresh in my heart.
Perharps if he was ill, I would have prepared my mind, but it was so sudden. He was preparing to go to his bank work; he was very dedicated in every area of his life - a bank manager, an assisitant pastor, fervent in prayers, a father, brother and a son.
There was fuel scarcity in my country, so we kept some in the store and he went there with a lantern and got blown up. I was the first to see him. Despite the fact that he was burned beyond recognition, my beloved husband was still praying. He fought death till that evening,when even the doctors said we shouldn’t have taken him out of the scene alive.
I was left with two kids, ages two years and 15 months respectively, and I was just 28 years old. It’s still hard to let go, even though am making concerted efforts. The past has refused to let go. I am so scared of my health, because I want to be there for my kids. I was looking for parents for my kids in case anything happens to me so they will be well looked after. They are great kids, lovely and well brought up. I don’t want them to suffer when I am gone.
You can’t know how it feels unless you are there. It’s not a nice thing to happen to any human being. The only hope I have is meeting him again, and honestly speaking I can’t wait to see him again. I miss him so much. Part of me has already gone with him, so if it’s true that time heals the wound, why is mine still fresh?

By: Angeline Wong

Angeline Wong — Thu, 13 Sep 2007 11:52:38 +0000

My husband Anthony died from a massive heart attack on 31st March 2007. He was 41 years old and I now 39 years old. Its been more than 5 months and I feel as though I am going to get a heart attack too as my chest feels like there is a rock embedded in it.I think its the hurt and pain manifested. I feel helpless and lost. Just putting up a strong front but deep within I do not know how I am going to cope.A Young widows’ website has helped a lot but I find myself lapsing into depression when I am not occupied. So I keep myself very occupied so that I wear myself out by the end of the day. I find that I can’t run away from grief: it catches up with me.

By: It Will Get Different, by Maria Casey

It Will Get Different, by Maria Casey — Fri, 07 Sep 2007 21:25:50 +0000

Me, too. Since 22 February. He was diagnosed with Stage IV throat cancer in mid-December, had the best possible medical team & facilities; daily radiation and 2 chemo sessions. I went upstairs to wake him up to go to radiation and he was already gone: just the way he wanted — in his own house, in his own bed.
I still haven’t changed his pillowcase b/c it still has some of his hair and smell.
I have lived through his 53rd birthday, our 27th wedding anniversary, my 50th birthday and honestly do not know why I’m still here.
I feel apart from the world and its inhabitants.
People say, “it’ll get better.” Not for me — I already had “better;” it will get different.
Some days, I can look at his picture without crying. Some days I can look at the folded flag on our mantle and not cry.
I cry unpredictably and “for no reason” except that the hole in my heart, soul and life is so huge and unfillable that I can barely stand it.
I can’t breathe because it feels like an 800-lb gorilla is sitting on my chest.
I want to wake up from this endless pain and find out it was all a terrible dream.
Except that every week-end his name is still carved into the niche at Arlington National Cemetery. And mine still isn’t.
I share your pain, sense of loss and grief. I will keep you in my prayers.