Hi, I need desperate help, please.
My husband died of cancer a week ago. The day after his funeral, I learned he'd been having Internet sex, which didn't stop there. He met up with the woman in Hong Kong last year, where he was supposed to be alone, and they were planning another rendezvous next year. This had been going on for two years.
I'm so torn between grief, hatred, sadness and depression. I feel so alone and heartbroken. It's like I've lived 13 years with a total stranger. I feel like dying. We have three young children.
Please help me if you can. Thanks.
Betrayed by Dead Husband
Dear Betrayed,
You loved a man who was not perfect. You married a man who was not perfect. You had three wonderful children with a man who was not perfect.
You did not live for 13 years with a total stranger. You lived for 13 years with a man who was not perfect.
Death took this man from you and then you learned of his imperfection.
You knew this man, but even after 13 years you did not know everything about him. That's how it is with people we love. We never know everything about them. All of us have hidden imperfections. You do and I do. You are not perfect and I am not perfect, but no one knows all our imperfections.
Perhaps when we die everyone will know our imperfections, too.
He was not perfect and he had some secrets and now you have been granted knowledge of his secrets. This knowledge makes the grieving sharper. It adds anger to the grief. Grief is enough without the anger, but the anger adds to it, so it feels as if it cannot be borne, as if it will crush you and tear you apart at the same time -- the grief pushing you down, wearing you down; the anger tearing at you from the inside, lighting you up, making you want to scream and beat your fists.
The grief is enough. The anger makes it feel like maybe you won't live through it. But you will. The grief will cleanse you and you will live through it and you will raise three beautiful children.
They will watch you and learn from you how to grieve and how to be strong. They will learn from you how to go on without him.
You will grieve for a long time and life will be hard at times. It will feel sometimes like the grief is not ending. It will feel sometimes like you wish you could slap him.
Through a half-open door during a wake I once watched my aunt berate my uncle's corpse for dying. It was a good performance, but it was not a performance. We feel these things for real, in addition to what we are supposed to feel; we feel the grief but we also feel these other things. We want to slap the dead or berate the dead or go through their pockets looking for phone numbers.
So be angry at him and pour out your anger at him. Pour out your anger on the ground and light it like a libation. Pour out your anger at him. Pour out your grief.
Take as much time as you need. Grieving is not a test of endurance or a test of fortitude. It is not a performance in a play. It is recognizing the truth of a man's life: He was imperfect and he died, and after his death his imperfection became known.
It is hard for the rest of us to bear knowledge of his imperfection, but that is the bargain we make: We get to live, and in return we live with the truth. Knowing the truth, we also seek to forgive. Do not rush it, but eventually you will want to forgive him or this anger will harden you and rob you of compassion.
Even the truth we live with is a partial truth. How can what we feel be in proportion to what is true when we will never have anything but a partial truth? Remember in "Casablanca" when Rick is leaving Paris in the rain and Ilsa doesn't show up? We sometimes suffer more from having only a partial truth.
It is also possible that this thought has crossed your mind: "Everyone will know and they will think what a fool I am. Everyone will know and they will see that I could not control him. They will lose respect for me."
Such thoughts may run through your head. Let them run through your head. People have all kinds of thoughts. We all do. They do not matter. You know the truth. The truth is that you loved a man and he loved you and you brought three beautiful children to life, and the man was a real man and not a god, and because he was a real man and not a god he was not perfect.
Now it is time for you to grieve him and remember him and raise your children.
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