As I read the anguish in the blogs of so many who have lost the love of their life recently, it takes me back to that dark, black empty place I lived 5 years ago after losing my wife of over 23 years.

Everything that I've read echos where I was, how alone and shattered I felt.  

As the past 5 years have passed, I have been healing, healing very slowly, but then, I believe it is better to heal slowly rather than have a scab over the wound that can be ripped off just by bumping into something as I go about my day.

The challenge for me is dealing with the grief when it arises, while preventing it from causing me to feel conflicted with my love for my wife now.

I remarried just 2 years after losing my wife, something I could not imagine even thinking about when she died. 

It takes so much work to reach the place in a marriage where Nanette and I were, a place where the love for each other was exactly what one imagines and hopes it to be on their wedding day.

After 24 years, the excitement isn't the same as on your wedding day, but the bond of being one replaces that. 

We really were "one" just as God wanted us to be. 

I didn't think it possible to meet someone who I could have that with again, and I certainly didn't want to go through all the work to get there. 

Turns out, God had other plans.

I did meet someone with whom I felt a deep, deep connection, very close to the "oneness" I had reached with my late wife.

We married, and had a long distance marriage for 2-1/2 years and now live together with her 2 teenage boys.

And the work I didn't want to do has started.  I hate it.  There are times when I feel like I'd rather be alone, back in the home I have owned for 28 years, living with my 26 year old daughter. 

That is why I say there is no end to the healing.

My daughter had just turned 21 when she found her mom dead in her bed.  She had moved out, but had planned on spending the night at our home as she had an appointment early the next morning and had to work late that night.

My wife had fallen asleep watching television in our daughter's bed, so when my daughter came home, she found her mom.

It wasn't until last year that I realized I had abandoned my daughter emotionally the first year after my wife died, and I was so ashamed.  I apologized to my daughter and she amazingly told me she knew I couldn't do anything for her because I had to dig myself out of my grief.  She grieved for my loss and that was almost as heartbreaking for her as losing her mom.

I find myself carrying my daughter's grief, and that compounds mine, causing me to feel like I'm betraying my wife now.  I know I'm not, and I know it will take time to have the same oneness with my wife, but it is such a challenge.

Every week I find myself having to distance myself from my wife as memories the horror of trying to resuscitate my late wife haunt me.

Adding to the challenge is the guilt of moving from the Midwest to Southern California, leaving my daughter to live in our house alone.  She feels abandoned, but I can't do anything for her about that.

I continue to make the house payments and pay all of the utilities as my departure was not planned in advance, allowing both of us time to grieve this major change in our lives.

In fact, most of my personal belongings remain in my home in the Midwest, in fact, I am writing this from my bed in that home. 

I returned to Iowa on New Years day as my older brother was hospitalized with liver and kidney failure.

His wife found him unresponsive on Christmas eve and called 911.  I was prepared to fly back on Christmas day, but as I communicated with my sister-in-law and younger brother, I decided to wait as they had stabilized him, but he remained unconscious.

I spoke to my brother before I left California, so I was relieved, knowing if he was going to die, I would at least have the opportunity to talk to him.

He is now in a nursing home, getting dialysis treatments 3 times a week.  He looked the best I've seen him in 15 years in the hospital, but at the nursing home he was in and out of consciousness from the heavy dose of pain medication.

I have my flight booked to return to California, my daughter insists she is used to living in the house alone, though she is broke and constantly needs help, and my brother's health is up in the air.

So what's the point I'm trying to make by sharing all of this? 

Well, though I'm not in the dark place I was 5 years ago, the pain of losing the love of my life is still very deep, and I imagine always will be.  I have to accept that and learn that it is not a betrayal to my wife now. 

Also, every change in your life causes the pain to bubble to the surface, every loss in your life compounds the pain and with every passing day, that pain can keep you from living your life right now.

Since April 2015, I've spent most of my time away from the home and life I've had for 28 years, trying to accept my new home and life in the state where I spent my childhood, and Ironically, had always desired to move back to.  I discovered that change carried a separate layer of grief I had buried deep inside 40 years ago.

I grieve for everyone who has lost a loved one, not just recently, but at any time.  To those of you who have recently lost the love of your life, the darkness can pass if you focus on living right this moment.

Go to GriefShare, I attended 3, 13 week sessions and my wife and I facilitated a 13 week session.  The friends I made in GriefShare made all the difference in me getting out of that dark hole.

Write your feelings on this website, (like I'm doing now) exchange them in emails with the people you meet on this site.

Force yourself to live. 

But above all, and I've not mentioned this on purpose, put all of your trust and faith in Jesus Christ to carry your through this. 

He was my foundation before my wife died and He remains my foundation.