Synchronicity. Today (Oct 2) is the the day I received the telegram that told me my fiancé (and first love) was killed in Viet Nam. I was a military dependent. I was at my college, so I was fortunate. The cabbie delivered the telegram to the school office and the school Chaplain brought it to me. That same day I learned my first cousin was killed in the same battle. A week later I got the letter from Darv that told me about Frank joining the regiment and how they joked about it being a “small war.” This morning I woke up and while watching the deer finishing up the late summer garden in the back, I told my husband I was in a rotten mood and could not figure out why. He reached out and squeezed my hand and said quietly, “it’s October 2.” Angry “rotten” feelings slowly morphed to feelings of old loss, joy, love and blessings from the man who was lost to a FUBAR war. I open Substack and here you are. Wonderful article. I am 75 and still learning.
And suddenly I remember that Wednesday 10/4 will be six years since my mother died. Nothing like your tragedies, I held her hand and sang to her as her breaths slowed in the ICU. Still, fairly certain I too will “feel rotten” this week.
Thank you so much for sharing your day of grief and your journey with grief. We all face and have to figure out how to live with grief in our lives. It can be the death of loved ones, the end of a relationship, the loss of a job, the loss of a sense, the loss of idependence....
Your sharing the different ways you dealt with your grief and how facing it changed its power over you will benefit more people than you can imagine. Because you are a talented writer you've taken something that everyone goes through and given them a way to relate to it that they may not be able to express themselves. Thank you for this gift.
Everyday, we are (and should be) learning something new. Part of that learning is not only about facts and things, but people and feelings. Many times, about how we feel about many of these things that we have learned. And yeah, some of those hurt...
And if I start to not be interested in learning new things, then I might as well get myself ready for a dirt nap, because I might as well be gone at that point.
I am glad that your voice (or written words) are here today and that you are working as hard as you can to not only make things for you and yours better, but for as many people that are able and willing to listen to those words as well.
I didn't comment much, but I read it all. It was powerful. This is a community and, while we only know the small part of you shared here, many of us are here on these platforms to uplift each other. Here to listen(read). I'm so happy your sharing was so powerful and helpful.
That is so awesome Fred. Yes, it's hard to face the pain of loss but to take control of that pain instead of it controlling you can only be done when you are ready. Everyone is different, some can do it sooner than others, but once that step is taken it does make that pain sting a lot less painful. For me personally, I felt if I didn't wallow in my pain I was not respecting the loss. In fact, it was just the opposite. Do what you want to honor your wife and childs memories and enjoy those feelings and memories. Those are ALWAYS your treasures. The road to recovery is long but once the healing and learning from the pain begins, the pain can become a friend instead of an enemy.
Mr. Wellman, life is always about lessons and what we learn from them. It sounds like you tried to learn something new from this personal horror, and that you did just that. We are never too old to learn new things--I for one know that I have much to learn (you and I are almost exactly the same age). Good on you for trying something different.
You & your writing are a blessing to this 71 year old nana. I lost my Air Force pilot dad in a plane crash when I was eight. You never get over it, but life has still been very, very good. Thank you again for so eloquently sharing your journey.
There is a saying where I come from, “What you resist, persists”. I’m glad you allowed yourself to just cut loose and let it go. It helps immensely. There is a luxury to being able to cry easily. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my Dad died when I was 8 months old so I never knew him. Finding out why I didn’t have a father when everyone else in my neighborhood did made me very sensitive to other people and how they work their way through grief. We are all different so of course will handle grief in our own individual way.
Whenever I get teary over my husband’s death last year, I tell myself that I was extremely lucky to have had him in my life for as long as I did. We get greedy so whatever time we are given seems to never be enough.
So cry when you feel the need. Your wife was lovely but life is for those of us left behind. Today is the gift.
I’m sorry for your losses. In January I will deal with the 20th anniversary of the loss of the fine man who helped me raise my children. I’m doing well, but I fully expect that big number to cut me off at the knees.
Synchronicity. Today (Oct 2) is the the day I received the telegram that told me my fiancé (and first love) was killed in Viet Nam. I was a military dependent. I was at my college, so I was fortunate. The cabbie delivered the telegram to the school office and the school Chaplain brought it to me. That same day I learned my first cousin was killed in the same battle. A week later I got the letter from Darv that told me about Frank joining the regiment and how they joked about it being a “small war.” This morning I woke up and while watching the deer finishing up the late summer garden in the back, I told my husband I was in a rotten mood and could not figure out why. He reached out and squeezed my hand and said quietly, “it’s October 2.” Angry “rotten” feelings slowly morphed to feelings of old loss, joy, love and blessings from the man who was lost to a FUBAR war. I open Substack and here you are. Wonderful article. I am 75 and still learning.
And suddenly I remember that Wednesday 10/4 will be six years since my mother died. Nothing like your tragedies, I held her hand and sang to her as her breaths slowed in the ICU. Still, fairly certain I too will “feel rotten” this week.
My heart feels sorrow for YOUR loss. Thank you for sharing.
Thank you so much for sharing your day of grief and your journey with grief. We all face and have to figure out how to live with grief in our lives. It can be the death of loved ones, the end of a relationship, the loss of a job, the loss of a sense, the loss of idependence....
Your sharing the different ways you dealt with your grief and how facing it changed its power over you will benefit more people than you can imagine. Because you are a talented writer you've taken something that everyone goes through and given them a way to relate to it that they may not be able to express themselves. Thank you for this gift.
Everyday, we are (and should be) learning something new. Part of that learning is not only about facts and things, but people and feelings. Many times, about how we feel about many of these things that we have learned. And yeah, some of those hurt...
And if I start to not be interested in learning new things, then I might as well get myself ready for a dirt nap, because I might as well be gone at that point.
I am glad that your voice (or written words) are here today and that you are working as hard as you can to not only make things for you and yours better, but for as many people that are able and willing to listen to those words as well.
Thank you, Fred
I didn't comment much, but I read it all. It was powerful. This is a community and, while we only know the small part of you shared here, many of us are here on these platforms to uplift each other. Here to listen(read). I'm so happy your sharing was so powerful and helpful.
That is so awesome Fred. Yes, it's hard to face the pain of loss but to take control of that pain instead of it controlling you can only be done when you are ready. Everyone is different, some can do it sooner than others, but once that step is taken it does make that pain sting a lot less painful. For me personally, I felt if I didn't wallow in my pain I was not respecting the loss. In fact, it was just the opposite. Do what you want to honor your wife and childs memories and enjoy those feelings and memories. Those are ALWAYS your treasures. The road to recovery is long but once the healing and learning from the pain begins, the pain can become a friend instead of an enemy.
Mr. Wellman, life is always about lessons and what we learn from them. It sounds like you tried to learn something new from this personal horror, and that you did just that. We are never too old to learn new things--I for one know that I have much to learn (you and I are almost exactly the same age). Good on you for trying something different.
October is rough. Three dates related to the death of my only daughter, 33yo when she passed in '16.
Also holds dates of my Wedding anniversary, my son's birthday.
Tried blocking out, tried running away.
Tried what if.
It's different each year. I try not to judge myself or anyone else on any way they find to deal .
Hi Fred, your writing is amazing and thank you for supporting all veterans and for writing about the journey of grief.
You & your writing are a blessing to this 71 year old nana. I lost my Air Force pilot dad in a plane crash when I was eight. You never get over it, but life has still been very, very good. Thank you again for so eloquently sharing your journey.
There is a saying where I come from, “What you resist, persists”. I’m glad you allowed yourself to just cut loose and let it go. It helps immensely. There is a luxury to being able to cry easily. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my Dad died when I was 8 months old so I never knew him. Finding out why I didn’t have a father when everyone else in my neighborhood did made me very sensitive to other people and how they work their way through grief. We are all different so of course will handle grief in our own individual way.
Whenever I get teary over my husband’s death last year, I tell myself that I was extremely lucky to have had him in my life for as long as I did. We get greedy so whatever time we are given seems to never be enough.
So cry when you feel the need. Your wife was lovely but life is for those of us left behind. Today is the gift.
I’m sorry for your losses. In January I will deal with the 20th anniversary of the loss of the fine man who helped me raise my children. I’m doing well, but I fully expect that big number to cut me off at the knees.