u/Western_Limit_4706

They've just informed us (grown siblings and I) of their downsizing. Inner city 1960's 3 bed 1.5 bath bungalow with full basement, an incredible backyard and double detached garage, walking distance from elementary schools, junior highs, and high schools. Lovingly maintained and upgraded, not a large house many any means but not small. I grew up there with two siblings and pets and all manner of friends popping by.

I live in a much newer and highly sought-after neighborhood in a townhouse and on assessment my home value is only slightly less than theirs. They're moving next year into their new condo so I have some time, but my life circumstances have drastically changed recently so I'm considering the move. I'd be much closer to work and the rest of my family. I'm a bit scared of the jump in responsibilities from townhouse to real house. What am I not thinking through?

Tonight I put my youngest - my three year old - to bed. Tomorrow, he will wake up and be four.

I won't have a toddler anymore, and I won't have one ever again. We will celebrate his birthday with bubbles and blueberry pancakes and Oreos and Hot Wheels that his big brother picked out for him. I'm so excited to see how he keeps growing and learning, I love him so much.

I'm doing this by myself now; my husband recently died from cancer, but he had so much confidence in my parenting even when I didn't. He loved us deeply, and it's carrying us through. I know that I can do this, and that one day I'm going to look back and be proud of myself for getting our babies through this too. I want to be able to see moments of joy in their childhoods, not just sorrow.

Reflecting on parenthood has made me introspective and you guys have been here for my questions and wins and losses and everything else.

From the bottom of my heart, Thanks /toddlers.

Edit: You guys. Seeing all of your comments (aside from that one guy who asked the mods to ban me?) has been so sweet. I'm just coming out of the numb shock phase of loss and into the sads so I guess I kind of didn't think it would make people as emotional as I have been and I was wrong. I made you guys cry but don't worry you all made me cry back.

We had a great day. He got his Hot Wheels, he told me it was the best birthday, and he's sleeping soundly next to me because we do a lot more bedtime snuggles these days. I was able to get the cupcakes for his party tomorrow baked and we're ready to roll for his beach party at our local lake.

Love to all of you.

To honor my beautiful departed husband Carlos, who was a true audiophile and loved music, I would like to compile a Grief Playlist of sorts, but I don't want just sad songs (those are okay too).

It was one of the only outlets I had during his illness, my time in the car by myself where I could cry at stop lights and scream lyrics in traffic (I'm an excellent driver, I've been told, promise 🤞🏻).

I'm starting grief therapy and occupational therapy (sort of dark humour chuckle that I can't even fend for myself enough that I need a freaking OT but here we are), and it's a long ass drive that's near the hospital he had his treatments at, so I'm building a new playlist in anticipation, and thought it might be worth it to each out to you folks for assistance as a group exercise.

Disclaimer, I like everything. Shoot your shot. Not just sad music, songs that make you think if your spouse. Tell me why.

I'll start:

1. KD and Lunch Meat by Boy Golden (When I was still a certified Passenger Princess this was one of the songs on our commute that always came on pre-cancer)

2. Almost Home by Moby (Carlos loved Moby, I had this song playing when his heart stopped)

3. Love at First Sight by Kylie Minogue (I played this during his viewing because he sang it to me frequently for 17 years, it was love at first sight for us)

Our car is failing, and I need a new one. My husband was a certified Car Guy, and my brain actively looks for something else to when people are talking about cars. I just don't care, and I want something that works.

YouTube guide me. 🙏🏻

What new skills or knowledge have you had to learn without your other half?

I keep reading about y'all saying that it's going to be worse, tell me why and what was so different, I'm trying to figure out what to do with my life.

I'm 10 weeks in and it feels like it's been simultaneously 5 years and 5 minutes since I watched him go. The initial shock and numbness has worn off, and I'm actively grieving and also need to remain functional for my small children.

Do you think it's any different because I spent so long preparing to lose him before he was gone? I had very intense anticipatory anxiety and grief for 3 years, when he was first diagnosed.

Do widows start dating at the year mark to soften this Year Two pain fest? He told me to get married again, not that I feel like that's a thing I'm capable of. But I hope to be eventually.

For me, Year Two is looking like both of our kids being in school, potty trained and using their beautiful brains for good. Year Two looks like having a newer car, a freshly fixed mortgage rate, not having in-laws breathing down my neck. Year Two means not having to carry around a Notice of Death in my purse, not worrying about picking out my headstone in my mid-thirties, and not being punched in the face by federal mail changing my status to widowed on paper.

Tell me how much worse it's going to get.

How do you approach parenting now that you have all the decision making on your shoulders?

My kids are nearly 4 and 6 and rough-and-tumble boys who require pretty constant firm boundaries, but I'm also trying to balance the grace they need as children who have just watched their Daddy die and go into the ground.

I was discussing this with my therapist about how there's this power vacuum where there's nothing to bump up against now, and I don't think it's better. I need to be checked every now and again to give my kids a nuanced and balanced upbringing. For context, I'm a "respectful" parent in today's pop psychology terminology.

My husband and I had different beliefs about childrearing at times and it made us better parents to work through why we thought a certain way around things. I feel like I'm in an executive functional freeze when it comes to this now, like I have my half of the data, but no one to compare notes with. My Mom friends and I are all very similar, so they are no help.

Calling in as a 42G here, looking for a white whale.

Everything is so uncomfortable. Every gore stabs me in the chest, every strap rubs my shoulder/armpit to the point of creating a callus. I've been professionally fitted and it's either one problem or the other now so I guess that's better? But the professional "fancy" bras are all SO high coverage they eliminate most of my wardrobe.

I want boring, essentially. Smooth, that I can wear for 18 hour days. Underwire or not, I don't care so long as it gives me a little shape. I want to be able to wear my scoop or square neckline items without massive cups interrupting. I don't find I spill too much in a plunge so that's a shape I can do, but most of them add a crazy amount of foam and I don't want or need any help in that department.

Does such a bra exist? Thank you for reading my plea. 💖

I posted a couple of weeks ago about my eldest's birthday party, how I didn't see how I was supposed to make it happen since my husband died 9 weeks ago tomorrow.

I did it. I did the birthday party for our now six year old because that ray of absolute sunshine deserved a kick-ass birthday party in spite of his Dad dying.

And I made the stupid massive Pac-Man themed cake with fondant and gum paste ghosts. I also accepted help, with the food, the decorations, the cooler, and one of my friends played the unofficial announcer.

And he had a great time. Look at that smile.

I did it for him. And I'll do it again. There's no other way I want him remembering this first celebration without his Daddy.

I only cried while I was on the phone with my husband's Mom, she lives in another country and wanted to see the decorations and the food, and I saw the cold barbecue pit over my shoulder and pointed, because that's where he should have been. That's where my husband would have been stationed, grilling the meat for tacos because we always do The Most for this guy's birthday. And he wasn't. And it sucked so hard in that moment.

But I did it. I got a sunburn but I did it.

Edit: Repost plain because photos need mod approval?

Hi friends, long time lurker first time caller.

I'm finally saying yes to Zep, to start in August. Not that I'm trying to hack the system or anything but I'm hoping for any tips on how to spend these next few weeks preparing my gut/body for the change/med. I've heard it's hard on tummies and mine has been giving me heck already the last few days. Do y'all recommend a probiotic? Prebiotic? Start fibre ahead of time? TIA. ✨

There was a small pint of his favorite from Baskin Robbins taking up space in the freezer because he never got to it. We need space because I'm starting to prep for our Big Guy's 6th birthday.

Rocky Road, but add gummy bears.

The boys ate all of it before asking where the gummy bears were. I forgot. How could I have forgotten already?

My youngest is 3, nearing 4. In May my husband died of cancer at 40. It was horrible, it was faster than any of us expected at the end, and now he's gone and I'm a single mom to my 2 beautiful boys.

Yep. Whew. Every day feels like a karmic joke, but I'm choosing my children in all of this. I'm choosing to be their Mom and I'm choosing to attempt not fucking up doing that as much as possible. I'm also a healthcare worker with over a decade of mental health experience (most of it in pediatrics) so I'm not exactly a novice in childhood trauma, for background.

My oldest is 5 and has been processing overall a bit more. He cries about his Daddy about twice a week now and it all feels healthy and normal - he's learning to talk about it and asked to go visit his grave and talks out loud to him, I think he's going to be okay.

My little guy hadn't yet had his first birthday when my husband was diagnosed. His whole memory includes Daddy having cancer. Yesterday he woke up the the first thing he said to me was, "I miss Daddy." I said, "Me, too, and it's okay if you feel sad or miss him." THEN he said, "Daddy stepped on my toys on the ground and he got hurt and that's why he got so hurt he went to the hospital and died."

I had NO idea he had been thinking this way and tried to immediately course correct. We had been extra cautious about toys on the floor as my husband's balance was poor and a fall would have been catastrophic, but never have we ever put any blame on him. I know he's probably looking for a reason why his Daddy's body stopped working and that, "cancer," or any disease is a big concept he can't get yet. But that sucked. My poor boy. I'm going to revisit it again just to gently reiterate why Daddy died had nothing to do with him.

I just. What else can I do to make it so so very plain that he didn't do this?

I'm not an angry person. I'm not cold, or aloof, or mean. I've been described as having a gentle nature, and always with a smile. My husband described loving to say my name out loud because, "You can't say (my name) without a smile." I practice humanizing people and fostering genuine connection. I'm not cunning, I want to believe in and bring out the best in people. I'm also not stupid or naive, to be clear, but my intelligence is not where the question is.

I'm 8 weeks out from watching his last breaths. We were very much yin and yang, light and dark, opposites in so many things and so aligned where it mattered. God it was fun just to talk to him about paint colours.

I also have a tummy ache and I'm not having a good time and I find myself sitting with this cauldron of absolute rage. I've never had to deal with these kinds of feelings before - this intense negativity that isn't directed at anyone and everyone.

I'm off work right now on disability for my mental health (thanks Canada, ilu), plans to go back in September, maybe beginning of October. I am in healthcare and am directly responsible for about 60 people in a long term outpatient program where I connect them to everything they may need. I think about my patience slipping and get worried. As of right now, I can see how I can inflict the kind of anger I'm feeling upon my patients and it makes me so worried. I'm keeping afloat looking after my kids but I'm not the best I can be. I cannot lash out at anyone, no one deserves this.

I know everyone says that time is the answer, but I want to be DOING something. I need a new outlet that isn't internalizing or journalling or going for a walk. I've painted the bedroom, and the dining room. I cut my hair. I take baths. I try not to drive too fast. I don't drink or smoke.

When did it go away? Or is this another thing I need to build room for? I just hate it, this new me.

My husband died 7 weeks ago at the age of 40, less than 3 years after his diagnosis with melanoma (3C which quickly got worse). Mets to bilateral axillary lymph nodes, then liver, then spine (well treated with rads 10/10 would recommend), and at the end sort of all over the abdomen and had finally breached the lungs. The liver mets are what killed him, my beautiful man. Just much sooner than we were prepared for. We were sitting in my parents backyard celebrating Mother's Day the weekend before, watching the kids play with bubbles. He walked up the stairs without any help.

I'm a widow at 35 and have 3 & 5 year old boys to raise. I promised him that we would be okay because we have to be, and he told me that I should get married again because he wants me to be happy. What a guy.

I miss him. He was perfect.

Love to you, r/cancer

And a massive fuck you to cancer, you fucking huge bitch.

My children have their birthday parties coming up this summer.

But I'm so tired. I'm not 7 weeks out from losing my husband and I can barely get them dressed and feed them and out the door, let alone throw a birthday party. I started shaking when I accidentally drove to a festival when I just wanted to get lab work done because it was busy.

I feel so guilty for not doing more but I'm scraping the bottom of the barrel as far as brain resources to figure this out.

They deserve better. They deserve the moon on a string and their Daddy breathing to tell them how special they are. They deserve a Mommy who is fun and wants to go on adventures and doesn't get overwhelmed by people and noise and touch and is exhausted by noon.

I bought the invitation template online and haven't filled it yet.

Any tips aside from starting an illicit drug habit?

Their birthday parties is all they have been looking forward to, I can't just cancel them. We're doing it.

I buried my husband and I paid for additional depth so that I am buried with him when I go. Room for ashes too if anyone else wants to party which is beyond weird to me but that was part of the burial package (death industry is so weird). I'm stuck on the headstone, because it's also going to be my headstone.

What did you guys write? Is it what they wanted or what you want?

How do you feel about saving space for yourself? I feel weird about the whole thing and wanted to take my time to pick one out but I feel this pressure to put the stone in. What did you guys do?

I'm only 35 years old and have no intention of joining him anytime soon in the ground. I didn't go for a side-by-side plot because I'm enchanted by the idea of a forever cuddle puddle on top of him though. I'm coming for you baby! Just, in a while. God please let me raise our sons healthy and see our family flourish, and then I will take your hand gladly.

This is one of those sneaky things I hadn't really thought about struggling with until now. Oh good, a new layer to explore.

My husband adored me. Like, he was really, really into me, literally since the moment he saw my face when I was 18. He would tell me, constantly and all the time, how beautiful he thought I was. How soft and glowing my skin was, how he loved the shape of my mouth, how the colour of my eyes was his favorite thing to look at. Every morning while he'd been in bed and I got ready for the day, I would have him check my outfit (joking, not controlling), and he would say, "Cute!" or, "Oh, wow," or, "This is such a you outfit." He was my biggest cheerleader and supporter of my changing body through university and our two babies, just praising that this body made those incredible little dudes and that I was so strong. And I believed him, that he saw me that way.

I just got a package in the mail of some new clothes to try to shift me into summer from my, "widow's weeds," of disintegrating sweatpants and old house dresses with holes in them that I still have from pregnancy. I hate everything. I hate my glasses, I can't do makeup, my face looks... Wrong. My body feels awkward.

I didn't realize how dependent I had become on his words of affirmation to make me feel confident or like anyone gave a shit about me.

Now, I just feel ugly.

As if he wouldn't be right next to me in our bed if he was still alive.

To show him my Mom and I's paint job of our room, in the colour we picked out together two years ago. It looks beautiful.

It took my breath away, how easy it was to forget that he was gone for a moment, made worse by the crash back to reality. This is the first time this has happened (it's been a month as of yesterday). I don't know if I'm going to savour that 5 seconds or try not to do that to myself again.

TW: Spouse death. I'm not asking for money I promise.

​

My (35) husband died 4 weeks ago at 40. It was cancer, it took a little under 3 years from diagnosis to kill him, and it was awful. I'm obviously not okay, but I also have my little boys to keep alive so therefore I am forced to be mostly functional. My husband was awesome and the world was lucky to have him; he was an incredible spouse and even better Father.

My baby was wasn't even 1 when we got the diagnosis, and he's about to turn 4. My eldest will be 6 in a few weeks. They are the best decisions we ever made.

​

All that being said, as a truly single Mom now, I feel pretty out of my depth without my co-director. I feel like I'm going to mess this up without another brain to run things past.

What are some things you Moms with experience would recommend I start doing to make my life easier doing this alone, or things you wish you did sooner for your kids? How do I make them feel secure with just me running the show without backup?

I'm actually pretty confident that I'm not a shitty Mom, but I'm in the early stages of this and don't want to fuck up. Thanks in advance!

"Hey there, how's it going? How are you, I read that your husband was in the hospital, is he home now or still there?"

"Oh... Oh, he um, he died. Two weeks ago."

Aaaaaaaand scene. That sucked.

(Canadian health care, our medical files are generally shared between treatment services especially for important things... You would think someone would let her know when a patient dies, but I digress.)

Also why is Costco so incredibly hard to change over? I came with a certificate of death and they said they want that AND proof of Estate Administrator? Crazy town. It's not that deep, Costco.

I. Fucking. Hate. Them.

I don't care if you thought he was a good man, obviously I did and don't give a single flying fuck what you thought about him.

I don't want your sympathy. I don't want your thoughts. I am drowning in front of other people feeling entitled to share my grief.

You didn't visit him, you didn't call. You didn't send a meal, or offer a ride to his appointments when I was trying to juggle working and childcare and all of his treatments. You didn't run a mop over the floor when I was breaking from exhaustion.

But sure, pat yourself on the back really gently about how you're so devastated for me now.

I don't want these constant physical token reminders of the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I certainly know he's dead, thanks.

Our children do not need this as part of their tragic origin story.

I am throwing them into the garbage.

Kindly,

A Very Fresh Widow