Mike Holland wrote:
My wife Philippa and I met at a Youth Hostel in Pilgrims Rest, Eastern Transvaal in 1963. We were members of a team that had gone out there to repair and restore the hostel. After 3 weeks of dating, I asked her to marry me, and she accepted.
We enjoyed 53 years of blissful marriage, and acquired two children and then six grandchildren. In October 2016 she developed a brain tumour in her occipital lobe. This affected her vision in a funny way - she could see things, but had trouble interpreting what she was seeing. While watching TV, for example, she would ask me why all the peoples heads were floating in water! She went through brain surgery and courses of radiation and chemo which extended her life, but it was a one way journey. The tumour took away all her hobbies and the things she loved doing. She just wanted the end to come, and it did finally in April 2018, a year ago. I cared for her all the way until I could no longer cope with getting her out of bed to the toilet and such things. Them she went into a nursing home where she died two weeks later. We were both atheists and do/did not believe inn any sort of afterlife.
Over the past year I have had no purpose in living, and have often thought of suicide. It would be easy for me, I am a diabetic, and could just take an overdose of insulin. But I am doing all the right things. I go to Scottish Country Dance classes three nights a week, and just about every morning I scoot up a windy road through lots of bush to cupcake-in-the-Sky, a coffee and cupcake hangout for motorcyclists. There I meet up with a group of friends and we drink our coffee and chat and solve all the world's problems.
Getting to enjoy being single is going to be a long road for me. I badly need some goals to look forward to, but life is meaningless for me now.
Mike
Mike, I feel bad for what you are going through. I don't want to imagine what it must be like. My wife and I do almost everything together, and have for 47 years. I hope you are able to find some peace and meaning.
On a different tack, today was something made possible by our marriage: we call it "Daddy-Daughter Day." We are in the city where our daughter and son-in-law live; we visit here a couple months each year. Our time here is getting short, so it was a delight to have some time one-on-one with my daughter. She asked what I wanted to do: "How about lunch out and a scooter ride?"
I was surprised when she said, "Sounds great!" We used to to cross-country motorcycle touring when she was young (the reason my wife and I each had our own bikes), but our daughter hasn't been on a bike for more than a few blocks (on the back of one of mine) since she went off to college many years ago. With that in mind, I didn't plan a long ride - we did some "urban cruising" in the west side of the Valley of the Sun (Phoenix area). Riding on 45 mph roads, we could still converse. It was a very pleasant afternoon. Then, back to our motorhome so the three of us could spend some time together.
I cherish our time together. None of this would have been possible without the marriage and commitment made by my wife and me. Our daughter is a teacher - one of the good ones who works to make sure the students learn, AND helps them become better people.
Is marriage for you? It isn't an individual choice. The key is to find the person who will work with you to make the relationship. Moving beyond my mid-60s, I can't imagine life without my partner. My heart hurts for Mike who is in that journey. I have been fortunate thus far, but I am aware that life gives us no guarantees. Would my life have been better if I hadn't married? Not in any way I can imagine.
I do remember thinking the night our daughter was born: "This is going to change a LOT of things." It made me want to be a better man.
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For Mike: a friend of ours lost his wife to cancer. He was her caregiver for a couple years while she deteriorated. When she passed, he told me he was "lost." After getting a home sold (they had two homes), he made plans to get away for a while: he took his boat up the inside passage from Washington State to Alaska, solo. When he came back, I saw a different guy: ready to move on with life, including meeting new people. It has been several years; he has a new lady friend and lives in a resort community where there are plenty of things to do. An ever-expanding group of friends.
I'm not saying this is the path for you, just saying that your life has meaning... but you may have to look for that meaning. Wishing the best for you.
Jim