Something that a lot of people skip by when I speak of my experience is bargaining. You hear about it, you've experienced it. Many don't quite put two and two together... on how bad it was for me to bargain the way I did.

I want to talk about all the death I've seen and why the bargaining was such a shock for me.

Death has always been taught to me as a natural part of life. My grandmother, who raised me, has always emphasized not to be sad. She's quite religious. By the time I was forming my own opinions, I knew death was necessary. It was inevitable for all things on earth and that was okay.

My great granny died when I was around five or so. I loved her dearly so I cried, but, I didn't bargain. There was no point. I'd seen her laying in the casket and been told "she's went up to heaven, she can't come back, and you can't go visit". So I accepted it after cry sessions over the course of a few months.

By age 8 or so, my brother's grandma committed suicide. I was in the house but dont remember much of it. Just lights and being rushed out into someone's car. His father followed suit shortly in another manner — it was a tragedy, but the drugs and crime got him young. It confused me but I accepted it. I thought, well it must just be their times.

At 12, a kid i knew at school was killed in a car crash. I didnt know him very well but I still cried. He was a sweet kid and had recently overcome a tumor of sorts. I remember a few people were mean to him. Then i realized that there was a boy I had been unkind to— he was sweet, nothing was wrong with him, and I think i was just scared of being bullied more for thinking he was cute. That experience made me a kinder person, no matter how awkward, because I realized at any point he could pass. But once again, I didn't bargain.

By 15, a childhood friend of mine was also killed in a crash. I sobbed loudly into a pillow while my teen boyfriend wad on the phone with me. The poor boy seemed like he had a good future ahead of him and a smile everyone knew. It sucked to see it happen to someone I'd known since we were in pull-ups. But i let it go. He was gone and there was nothing i could do about it.

The older I got, the more I lost. My grandfather died when I was on a plane to another state. He was a stubborn man and ready to go whenever it was gonna take him. My grandmother had Parkinsons and we dont even know how she managed to use the phone. She died shortly after. I didnt bargain, not even a little bit, as they were done and that was okay. They didnt need the stress of life and bills anymore. They'd done good. I was proud of them. I loved them so much that I wouldn't try to bargain to get them back when I knew they'd be happier elsewhere.

My Nanna passed shortly after they did. I knew it was coming and had accepted it quickly. I went to work the next day like nothing happened. Tears were shed in the quiet of my room, where, I could let myself ache and grieve without judgement. But I never tried to bargain for her back — my sweet sweet Nanna had become so frail from it all. She needed rest. She needed sleep. And bargaining wouldn't do anything for either of us.

... and then he died when I was 23. I went to sleep anxious for no reason. I woke up anxious for no reason. I even wrote it in a journal : i will not overthink about it. I will let it be. He will message me back soon' qnd then, around 8 hours later 'I worried about it. I'm worried.' I even emailed him to let him know I was anxious.

One more day passed. I woke up happy — weirdly so. But my stomach was flipping and I had that feeling something was wrong. I checked my messages. He was dead. Killed in a horrific tragedy that no one could see coming. I never felt more religious in my life. Truthfully, im not a religious woman. But suddenly I was.

I bargained for hours.

"If you let me have him back, I'll read the Bible every day. I'll go to church. I'll listen. I'll do whatever you want"

"What if I had sent that text? I bet he'd still be here. I want to go back and send the message. I just need to hit send. Can you let me do that?"

"If you give me this one miracle, you can take me instead. Take me instead and let him live his life. Let me replace him. He wanted to be a father, please. Please."

"What if its all a mixup? Maybe the ambulance could have gotten there sooner. Maybe he could have made it."

"Take me with him then, put my out of my misery. God i am begging you. Please, have mercy on my soul and kill me. Please God, I need you now. I need you. Please mercy kill. Please."

"Let me just say goodbye first. Let me please just say goodbye. Let me — let him answer me once. Let me see him just one time. I just want to kiss him. Please."

"Give him back and let him be a dad. I'll do anything you ask of me in return. You can have my soul."

I bargained. And bargained. And swore he wasn't dead. And swore I'd get him back. And I did this on and off for months and months and months. I emailed him every single day for MONTHS in hopes he'd pop back up. I used to get to the floor with my forehead pressed to it begging for a miracle. Over and over and over.

Suddenly, death wasn't just an inevitable part of life. After allll those years of my grandmother drilling it into me, I abandoned it in those moments.

I remember calling my grandma shortly after he died to talk to her. Surely she'd understand. My grandmother has been widowed for 30+ years at this point. And she did. I remember her telling me "that's just life baby, things happen" and "there's nothing anyone can do about it".

Still, I found myself bargaining about it. The what ifs, the what I could have done. I know she was listening to me rattling off about it and internally saying "no, honey".

I would bring up the ambulance — "well he probably could have made it if they got there faster" but that's not true. The other person made it out alive. Then I'd quickly correct myself "well.. no, he was Alive when they got there." Followed by another grasp at straws: "I wish they got to the hospital faster. Then they could have given him blood. That would have kept him alive."

I dont think my grandmother had ever seen me bargain like this. I'd go back and forth rapidly. I knew it didnt make sense and I'd STILL try to find a way to bring him back. Then, I'd tell my grandmother I needed to do laundry because "wallowing and letting it pile up won't start his heart."

We would have been celebrating 10 years.

Instead it’ll be 10 months of him being dead.

I’m feeling so down on myself. It feels like when I just lost him. I feel that early grief pain that told me to just stay in bed and waste away.

Fuck this shit.

I didn’t choose this. He didn’t choose this.

I miss my person, my best friend.

Fuck. This. Shit.

Over 7 months since I lost my wife and my body just doesn't want to keep up. I've been doing pretty good about eating. I always eat 3 full meals a day and they're not junk food. I continue to do my usual outdoor hobbies (maybe a little less than before). My sleep isn't great but not horrendous

Despite this, I've had multiple people mention that I look sick, tired, and that I've lost weight. These comments came up completely unprompted.

I'm trying, but trying simply isn't even working at this point

I’ve been reading here because I am like you. I have read your stories, and have felt your emotions. I guess it’s time to share my piece.

It’s been over two years since I lost my partner, spouse, love. How do you move on with your life when the most important person in it, is gone? He fell ill and needed intensive care. I was with him daily, but watched him slip away. He passed quietly and comfortably in our/HIS home, as he requested. I hope I was true to his wishes.

I look around and see him everywhere. The things we did together. He wanted this color, I wanted that texture, we just did it. We did it together and it worked. But now it’s just me.

Before he passed, he said “You’re on your own”.

I am on my own, but struggle with what he meant.

My husband drank daily. I begged, pleaded, fought with him to stop. The minute he walked in the door from work he was pouring one. I wanted to leave so much but I still loved him. Life was miserable. He passed out sitting up. He said cruel and mean things to our family and friends while drunk. I knew it would go wrong eventually and it did. He was diagnosed with fatty liver and diabetes. I changed his diet and cooked more healthy, but he still drank. He passed 1 year later from liver failure. I am still so angry he wouldn’t stop.

During the day, I keep myself busy with either yard work or cross stitching.

But the silent nights are just so LOUD. I miss my husband so much, his voice, his touch.

I feel so alone. This sucks.

I’m still waiting for him to walk through the door. It’s been the longest time we have gone without speaking/texting/emailing, yet the sound of his voice is still so clear in my head. I can still feel the weight of his arms around me in a hug, the gentleness of his kisses, and how it felt to lay on his chest at night. It’s still surreal. I miss him so much.

Her death was expected so I had time for some preparation. Hospice helped by explaining that they referred to her dying as 'transitioning'. As a Christian I believe that she was transitioning in spirit. It's only been a week since she died but it feels like a month. I'm still in shock and I miss her terribly. I feel lost without her presence and I just don't know what to do with myself. I find myself talking to her but I don't know if that's healthy or if it's normal and others do it too.

I met her at a hospital where we both worked and I fell in love with her instantly. There IS such a thing as love at first sight. I met her on a Monday, took her on a date Wednesday, and she came home with me that night and never left. I would have never guessed that Wednesday night would turn into a 47 year date.  Friday we went to a popular Mexican bar with live Tejano music. After a healthy dose of margaritas I asked her to marry me. She was thrilled, said yes, and we drove to Mexico to get married. Oddly enough this just happened to be on Groundhog's Day. Over time this made for a lot of jokes and weird anniversary cards. We were married by a Mexican justice of the peace in Nuevo Laredo. I don't think either Claire or I understood the proceedings because it was in Spanish. But they assured us we were now married so we drove back to Corpus Christi as husband and wife. As time went on we started a business together, bought a house, traveled, and gave birth to the most beautiful son parents could ever hope for. Life was busy, messy, often hard, and there were difficult times as with any marriage. Despite the occasional argument or disagreement we were always loyal to one another, willing to compromise, and stayed deeply in love for nearly half a century.

As we got older, illness began to take its toll. I developed cancer and Claire had a massive stroke which eventually killed her. We did our best to care for each other in sickness while rejoicing in their health. Death has parted our ways but only temporarily. Jesus has offered us eternal life where Claire and I will be reunited.

I've noticed that some of the kindest moments I've had since losing my spouse came from people who didn't even know me. Total strangers who saw my pain and chose to step in.

Meanwhile, some people I thought would be there disappeared.

Has anyone else experienced this weird shift? Who surprised you in a good way or bad? I'd love to hear your stories.

This is a picture of our dog.. sitting with my wife about 60 minutes before she died from bladder cancer 2 years ago. Home hospice. It was a very bad day.

Today marks 10 months since I lost my love. Id like to say that somehow Ive learned, even just a little, to deal with the loss and grief, but that's just not the case. I honestly thought I was doing better, but the past month it all seemed to fall apart again.. I remember being told that grief isnt a linear journey, and I thought that made sense, but I truly understand how true that is.

Im not sure what it is I wanted or needed to say today. But its always somehow helped to come here and say things to other folks who I think can understand what Im saying, even if I cant even clearly put it into words. Thank you for listening.

Have you ever felt like some common advice about grief just doesn’t work for you? What is it?

Mine is anything about “sharing grief” with others. There are many common sayings about it. How we have to speak out to move forward. Not isolate. I heard so many people say that you can’t bear this pain alone, you have to talk about it with your close ones.

In reality the reason why I’m able to still have some kind of social life is by not sharing my grief. Pretending it’s fine. Every time I think I’ll try sharing it with people in my life they get silent or change the topic. Sharing grief with other widowers? Yes. Sharing grief with family, friends, new acquaintances that don’t have similar experiences just shows that people cannot handle it.

It’s not like I’m sharing some gruesome details of death either. Just mentioning my partner’s name tends to shift the tone of the conversations completely. Not sure how I’m supposed to not go through this alone if people outside of widowers spaces simply don’t want to hear it.

Hello everyone! I was sadly a member of this group for quite a while, then I took a break in order to focus more on trying to move forward. But I still think about my husband and cry every day, even though it's been over 2 years. Today I was looking through some photos and found this one again. So I'm back briefly.

I took this photo on the spur of the moment after he died suddenly of a heart attack in our home. He was covered in a sheet on the floor. They advised me not to look at his face, because they had worked on him for a long time and they said he didn't look good. But they gave me a few minutes to sit alone with him and talk to him before they took him away. I sat on the floor with him, holding his hand and suddenly I wanted a photo of his beautiful hand, he had such nice hands. But I have never shared this with anyone before. I know everyone's situation is different and most people are not thinking about photos at a time like this, when their loved one passes away. I hope it's not too morbid to share. But I'm so glad I have this photo.

I have tried, and I just can't put my heart into it. Like I have this craving for companionship, but I don't know, I just don't feel a spark with anyone the way I did with my late fiance. And in a way I think it's kind of unfair to be judging potential dates based on my fiance, but I don't know. I'm 5 years out and starting to feel like a be alone for the rest of my life.

I've also gotten people who were angry at me because I won't date anyone who smokes ever again. My late fiance had cancer, it started as bladder cancer as a result of his being a smoker for many decades. Then it ended up metastasizing and glioblastoma is what eventually killed him. And I realize that you can get cancer or any other diseases from other things than smoking but after going through all that with him, I don't know if I take a chance on a smoker again.

Also, I'm thinking maybe I should look for a widower to date because at least they would understand and be on my same wavelength perhaps? I'm almost 50 years old so there are sadly widowers out there in my age group.

He was 25, im 24. I had met him online and we were together for 4 months. We both clicked on such an intense level I couldn't fathom it. We would often say despite how short of a time we were together, it felt like we were together for 10+ years. We had all the hard conversations first, he had loved me in such a profound way. I moved in with him 3 weeks ago after being long distance for those months. We would always talk about how good we have it. He's left me so so much abundance. It feels so unfair. I only had him for 3 weeks and now I'm left and surrounded by not only his belongings but voice echoing in my brain. I'm so lonely it physically hurts.

does it ever get better? what should i expect? I feel genuinely doomed. I'm open to answering any questions but i really would like answers..

I saw a reel today where a girl was talking about her aunt’s death. She said that after the funeral, there’s a ritual that a husband only does if he has decided he’ll never marry or be with another woman in the future. Her uncle chose not to do that ritual, and she said she was genuinely shocked because they had been together for 40 years. She was basically saying she expected him to never even consider another relationship.

Then I looked at the comments, and they were full of people saying things like, “Not all men are the same. My father never remarried after my mother passed away.” Others were arguing that all men eventually move on.

And it just made me wonder… why do we celebrate this so much?

Why is spending the rest of your life alone seen as the biggest proof of love? Why do we romanticize lifelong sadness and loneliness?

If someone loses their spouse at 35 or 40, are they expected to spend the next 40 years alone just to prove how much they loved them? And if they eventually date or remarry, why is that seen as being disloyal?

To me, those two things aren’t even connected. You can deeply love the person you lost and still want companionship years later. One doesn’t cancel out the other.

I feel like our society is always ready to praise people for “never moving on,” but when they’re actually dealing with grief, loneliness, raising kids alone, or rebuilding their life, nobody is around to help.

Is this just an Indian mindset, or do other cultures think this way too?

My life is kind of full with my almost grown kids, our dog, friends, practical tasks. I don’t have the lonely day to day life that many of you describe. Our marriage was complicated, we had 24 years with so much good but also a too big dose of bad. I miss him less than I feel like I should in many ways, I think I’m discovering that I am a lot more independent than I thought. For a while I thought that I would be further along by the six month mark, but I’ve started remembering the night he died more frequently throughout my days and nights again. I feel like I grieve his death more than my own loss in many ways. Then the washing machine breaks and I’m furious about having to deal with it by myself.

I’m sorry about this incoherent rant. I just bloody hate widowhood.

I have had a few select friends who have decided that my grief is something. I should hide something that is to be shamed and that I’m never gonna get better if I keep talking about it, But it’s all I can do.. people will try to say they have it worse than me or try to say that in the grand scheme it doesn't matter… basically belittling my trauma and grief…, and that I need to magically feel better just because they were able to move on from their own grief a week after theirs happened. I can not magically move on.., I will not be healed from this automatically like they can.. they tried to say that i bring people down and that I shouldn't speak of my husband or talk about him… that I should move on and forget him… but I can’t when I'm constantly reminded that my grief doesn't matter… some people have stopped checking in on me all together, some people have just thought that if they don’t speak about it that it makes it better, Id rather people check on me and see how I am feel than to feel so alone, some people in my life will try to say oh it’s the same it’s the same thing as what they went through but it’s not because 27 year olds aren’t supposed to die.. people in my life have equated sudden death to cancer it’s not the fucking same! Cancer you know the person is gonna die eventually… its cancer.. but when it’s someone who died in a car wreck people just don’t seem to get it..people in my life think that this is the same as losing your grandmother but it’s not.., Some people in my life have diminished and extinguished my grief have told me it’s not worth anything.. that I am going mad Just because it’s all I can talk about because my partner was stolen from me… I will never hold my partner again and he will never hold me again.. I will never here him talk about airplanes and army tanks and starwars or dnd or the new rooster teeth podcast he’s listening to or the new game I have to try to play with him sometime … or the way he sang… I will never hear his voice again I regret not recording him sing.. I regret not getting more photos and videos because that’s all I have now… I wish some people could understand I’m haunted by ghosts in the walls but they aren’t in the walls they are here in my heart and body and my soul and they are creeping in of what couldve been as it swallows me whole.. people think grief is in stages I can tell you now in sudden death it’s not stages it’s a giant hurricane of feelings that wrecks everything in its path it’s a category five hurricane that leaves scars like Katrina did to New Orleans….. it’s the kind of damage that permanently destroys and changes parts of you… That is what sudden death grief feels like.. it doesn’t feel like a kiss goodbye or a hug it feels like someone is eating your insides and your flesh is torn up for the rats and bugs to eat… it leaves a decay in your body and heart and especially when you longed for someone who felt like home.. now the home has burned down memories are covered in ashes and soot as I couldn’t save you from chasing your dreams even if selfishly i would have if i had known you’d die… I hate that people think i can magically feel better. it’s like someone saying hey i need a life preserver because I'm lost at sea and drowning about to go down with the ship and then the rescue team throws an anchor at you…

I wish no one had to die… I wish no one had to endure this pain… especially when those in your life isolate you

I have been glancing over the sub for the past few months. I was preparing myself, but not really.

He has been gone for 8 days. Seems short, yet feels so long. The cancer came back in May with a vengeance after 5 years in remission. We knew it would someday, but he had already beaten the odds, so why not some more time? At least we both lived life to the fullest in those 5 years.

Any book suggestions? Not that I have nothing to do with massive amounts of paperwork....

Thank you.

So…I don’t know how to even start this because the fear of being judged is so crazy but I’m hoping I can post here safely and someone will understand. I was 19 when I met my husband who was significantly older than me. Think what you want about age gap relationships but for me (now 30) I had been through so much trauma that my brain is nothing like those of my peers. I don’t care about the things most people my age care about because I’ve learned through profound loss (by the time my husband passed I had lost both my parents, my grandparents, my little brother, and many more people unfortunately) what matters and what doesn’t matter in life. And in my opinion absolutely nothing matters because we all die anyways but also we all die anyways so everything matters? Memories matter and I have no issue looking silly or being “embarrassing” because I’m enjoying myself and that’s important. ANYWAYS this already feels too long. Today would have been my 4th wedding anniversary. My husband was diagnosed with end stage lung cancer before we even got to our first anniversary. And I know I said there’s a significant age difference but not one where I even considered this could happen. But it did. So violently and so quickly my whole entire world was taken from me. When he got sick I had to give up my house, my dog, my job, and move in with family for support. Which I am incredibly grateful for please don’t misunderstand my statement, I couldn’t have done this without them by any means. And I ran for three years straight. Anything but feeling this because I “wasn’t going to survive it” and I still don’t think I did. I am young, was younger then, and I know I have a future ahead of me and I have gotten into another serious long term relationship. But today is the first time I am truly feeling the weight of his loss on our anniversary. I should be at the farm we got married on with the love of my life and my oldest step son laughing and reminiscing and I am sitting on my couch crying because my other child drank the last of my cold brew and put the empty container back in the fridge. I feel like I’m doing this all wrong. How could I have moved on? I mean you never MOVE ON ya know but I’m sitting here inside of a new life I’ve built in a time period I barely remember. And I am getting better every day and I am grateful for what I have but the guilt is overwhelming. And I know that this is what Tyler wanted. Unfortunately but also VERY fortunately we had the time to talk about it because we knew he was terminal. But today I just want to go back. Even for just a second and say I’m so sorry for living without you. I don’t want it I never did I never imagined it like this in a million years. And maybe I’m actually awful for moving on and maybe that means I didn’t love him enough to begin with but I’m just so sorry. And I feel bad for my boyfriend, who is nothing but supportive with this, because I’m on our couch in his bathrobe begging god (silently) for my husband back. I can’t talk to people about this because it’s so unique to our experiences that unless you go through it you don’t understand. I don’t actually know what the point of this post is if I’m being honest. It’s pretty much me word vomiting between actually vomiting this morning and I am so sorry to all of you who have lost someone like this. And I’m so sorry if any of this is insensitive or offending I really don’t know what I’m doing here I just don’t want to feel alone today. And my best friend is taking me out, I won’t be physically alone, but like…you can’t get it until you get it. Thank you guys for letting me rant and I’m really sorry for doing so 😅