He had a cardiac aneurysm for which he was preparing for surgery at the Cleveland Clinic when he keeled over at a filling station. His second wife was present.

We're told he was gone immediately after a momentary chest clutch, and appeared to be without pain. I guess it burst, and indeed, such immense internal blood loss is said to render the victim lifeless instantly.

The last week has been full of choosing a grave site, visitations, the funeral, obituary composition, and a non-denominational service with my sons doing most of the organization (while in a state of shock). His wife paid for expensive meals for all mourners, long time friends and attendees (and of course family - none of hers, as they live in Taiwan).

I couldn't say I'm mourning him per se, but it has certainly been a traumatic period (culminated by Thanksgiving!). I'm reliving about 45 years of our relationship, during 16 of which we were either engaged or married. I say our" relationship" but it's really, my whole adult life because the fraught relationship with our children, shaped the whole period for me as all the responsibility was mine. A very costly, precarious and destructive period for my sons and me.

My sons are kind of tip-toeing around me realizing how he treated me (forgetting their own early years with him which were deeply damaging). I've been (I must say) very supportive of his wife, largely for the sake of my sons. In fact, that's how it began when they were marrying and I sent my sons dressed in their best, with cards and gifts, including a welcoming card to the bride. (Most importantly perhaps, I sent my sons with an injunction to give her a fair chance and not to feel guilty if they loved her - that nothing was her fault). To say it was not reciprocated, is quite an understatement! (Remembering my ex stating firmly, "I WANT to hate you" as our divorce approached and I tried to "teach" him how important it was for our children's welfare that we treat each other with respect.)

It's really been strange, lately, though, especially with our background. I frankly don't know what to do. She's been massively affectionate, admitting she was at fault to have. been so hostile and rejecting (while not actually apologizing). Now she is calling me her "sister" and taking many photos of me, numerous together. (This is a woman who has actually left restaurants with my ex, once I was sighted with a son - worse, a celebratory meal for him! And more than normal people can believe.).

I don't even think we have spoken before these days, except once at an abortive family counseling session (out of my pocket while their insurance would have covered it).

She stomped out of it, after something was said she objected to. (She repeated an exculpatory claim for her neglect, claiming "In China, step-mothers have next to nothing to do with step-children." I contradicted her quoting my (indignant) best friend - Chinese - who was entirely raised by her step-mother. All to the deep disappointment of my son who had great hopes of counseling's bringing things in the family closer to sanity!

Anyhow, this is my second bereavement in 1 1/2 years, strangely similar in that both men almost the same age (70), Savas and my brother died suddenly while awaiting heart surgery only ten days off. This funeral, though, was well commemorated. (while the only memento we got of the passing of my brother - he died in Tokyo - was a photograph of a tiny funeral box of "cremains" beneath a photo of him in life. One photograph of a photograph!

I said I'm not mourning but actually, I am - my own life. The depth of the family dysfunction was so great it demanded everything I had to give (and if possible, more). Now, as negative milestone events tend to, I'm suddenly swamped by the realization of all I've lost - not a husband or father or friend, but...myself.

Amanda, I am so sorry for your children's loss.

For you it is much more complicated. I cannot begin to imagine all the feelings this event brings up. I hope that you and your children will have time to gather and support each other.

I’m very sorry, Amanda. I’ve been reading your sons accounting of the proceedings and it indeed sounds very complicated.

It is my hope that in time you will all find peace.

I'm sorry you are going through this challenge. I'm not sure whether to call it mourning or grieving, or just a time for reflection and taking stock. You have every right to be a bit verklempt.

Hang in there.

I'm so sorry, Amanda.

Steve and BeeLady and pj have already eloquently expressed the thoughts that I have.

Peace to you and your family.

I’m so sorry, Amanda.

quote:

I'm suddenly swamped by the realization of all I've lost - not a husband or father or friend, but...myself.

That has to be utterly devastating, and a lot to process, with plenty of grief and anger.

The only thing that has helped me when going through such shattering experiences is to allow everything I'm feeling to be as it is, and to be fully present with those feelings as I'm able.

Life asks us to grow and evolve even when we feel we've already done our share.

I'm so sorry for what you are going through. Please take loving care of yourself.

quote:

Originally posted by wtg:
I'm so sorry, Amanda.

Steve and BeeLady and pj have already eloquently expressed the thoughts that I have.

Peace to you and your family.

This. I am so sorry.

Amanda, I don't have anything helpful to say, but I just want to add my condolences. It's only natural to have these complicated feelings at the passing of the father of your children, someone who had such a big impact on your life.

My condolences.

Complex indeed. Take care of yourself, and be there for your sons.

From your descriptions, his second wife seems to have a very self-interested, transactional and perhaps quite temporary approach to you, which adds to complexity.

Oh no. Can’t add much to the wisdom already expressed but I’m really sorry for you and your boys.

I’m so sorry, Amanda. That sounds like a lot to process.

I hope you can move forward and reclaim the “you” that you lost. Hugs to you and your sons.

I'm so sorry, Amanda. You've had some really hard times, but you built a good life for yourself and your kids. I hope you can be gentle with yourself and take the time you need to heal.

Ugh...what a challenging time. My heart goes out to you.