The partner of BRIGITTE.de reader Sophie * is widowed. But his deceased wife is still everywhere even after six months of relationship. Now Sophie has written her a letter.
Dear Susanne,
I stole your husband from you! I took him away from you, although you can no longer be with him. At least not physically, in this world. But your energy is everywhere. I feel it in every corner of your house, in every corner of your garden, in every pore of your children, I feel it in your husband.
Every time I enter your house, I feel like an intruder. You are so present, I feel like I'm being watched and I expect you to come around the corner.
Your urn on the closet in the hallway reminds me that this is not my home.
Your large family photo above the dining table does this even more clearly. It tells me: this family lives here! Not you!
And it's really selfish to wish that it wouldn't hang there. To wish that this memorial did not hover over me at breakfast. I've tried different places at the table. Either you reproachfully stare at me from the front, or your eyes are on my neck.
You have died and it is your right to be part of it, not to be forgotten. It is your family's right to remember you.
But no matter what I do in this house, it feels forbidden. I use your kitchen, your shower, your garden, sleep with your husband! I recently threw away your old rusty cucumber peeler. Excuse me. I still have a guilty conscience today: I have destroyed a memory of you.
I feel the same way with many things that bother me. Are they personal things from you? Are They Important to Your Family? May I say I don't like this and that? I feel paralyzed in your energies.
If you were the ex-wife, bitchy, jealous or argumentative – I would have no problem with you. But you are not all that. You are the loving mother, the heart of the family, the wife of the man who has loved you for decades.
That you are no longer here was not a voluntary decision. You were taken from this world by an insidious disease. Nobody is angry with you, everyone misses you painfully. And if I get a hint of negative feelings, I'm ashamed of it. Such feelings are not allowed. Not to a deceased person. But maybe they are only human?
How am I supposed to feel? How am I supposed to be in a family that misses you so painfully?
Whatever I do, it can only be wrong. If I try to be nice to your children, it may seem like I want to take your position. We both know only too well that this would never be possible. YOU were, are and will be her mom.
Your daughter lets me clearly feel that she will not tolerate any other woman at her father's side. It defends your position. Her brother shows solidarity and distances himself from me. I know you have to understand that. Any other woman by your husband's side would most likely have triggered these emotions. But I am the personified reason for these problems. I triggered these feelings! That and the rejection associated with it hurt me.
I know you didn't want Max to be alone. You talked a lot, decided it together. It is in your mind. But is it really okay with you? Is it okay with him?
Doesn't it feel a little like betraying you to him too?
Dear Susanne, I respect you, I admire the strength with which you fought against your illness, how you looked after your family, beyond your death.
But I wish you and me that you find your peace, that Max can let you go in positive energy, and that I find a way to live with the knowledge about you, but not with you. Because I can't.
Sincerely,
your Sophie!
* Name is known to the editors