I’m stunned and so very sorry.

So sorry Bob. Sending condolences...

I'm so sorry Bob.

Oh, Bob. I am so very sorry. And I have missed your posts. So glad you are back and shared this heartbreak with us. Love to you and all who loved Stephanie.

Bob there is nothing I can say that has not been said. Please know ( I think I can say) all of us here at the table care, and feel for you. Come to the table when you feel able. Thank you for feeling you could let us know what has come to be. Take care of your self and know her pain is gone now, and is riding high above you and smiling down at you.

I'm so terribly sorry. My heart aches for you.

Oh Bob, how very, very sad I am for you. I can hear the continued shock in your written voice and can imagine how hard it is for you to function. How fortuitous it is for you to have family with you--I hope they are making you eat. I hope if you feel it would be helpful, you can find a grief counselor online whom you can speak to over the phone or computer. If possible, please check in here occasionally to talk or just to let us know how you're doing. I will pray for you.

I am so sorry for your loss, Bob.

We did miss you. I'm glad you're here, able to dip a toe back in. You honor us by allowing us to help carry the pain...and, I imagine, the hurt.

From what you've said, I believe Stephanie fought her depression long and hard, reshaping her mind's dark burden into love and light. I salute her for fighting the good fight. I'm so glad she found love and joy in life, and for the years you had together.

You helped her carry the day for a long time, but battle is wearing. Sometimes it the fight isn't ours to win.

Deepest sympathy in the loss of your precious wife.

I've often read your posts Bob so I'm familiar with your name on here as a regular poster with interesting things to say. I am so very sorry for the loss of your wife.

I am so sorry for your tragic loss. Sending comforting prayers up.

so sorry for your loss, may peace be with you

I'm so sorry, my deepest sympathy to you and your family. Please check in with us when you can, we are here for you Bob.

I am so very sorry to hear of your loss. Words can not express. Just prayers to you and yours.

Sue

Know we care, prayers for you.

So very sorry for your loss. While nothing I can say will even come close to a salve for you we are here to listen. And to hopefully help to hold your heart in place while you rebuild it. ((((((Bob)))))).

I am more sorry than I know how to say. I have always enjoyed your posts and know you as a very good person. I am sure you have been the best of husbands and you should think of yourself as the person who made it possible for her to be with you all for so long. It is such a hard and unforgiving disease. I am so sorry.

I am so sorry for your loss. It is very difficult but you will get through it. One breathe, 1 day at a time. It's been 8 1/2 yrs for me. Prayers & thoughts.

Here's one of my favorite pictures of her, that I trimmed away the background, and used it on the cover of the program prepared for her service.

And here is one of the things I wrote and posted on her facebook page:

I've been describing to many people how having a farm, with the horses at home, and a way to "ride out", and friends to do that with has been her lifelong dream, towards which she has worked steadily, determinedly, relentlessly her entire life. And while there has been stress, setbacks, and much, much work and much, much expense to move the reality here at Sugarday towards the dream/goal, it really seemed that everything was finally coming together. New barn done, a small group of boarders that she likes, promising project horses awaiting her guiding hand, a much-anticipated foal on the way in just a few weeks, and through the various income streams she had set up, the dream was mostly paying for itself.

People have asked if this was her dream, what was my dream? And when first asked I grew silent, and thoughtful – like I do – and eventually said that for the longest time my dream has been, simply “Stephanie … happy”. When she was happy, she would be such a wonderful delight, so much so that just the reflected joy would raise the spirits of all those around her. I was talking with someone today about this and came up with a metaphor that she was a luminous planet, and I was a moon, orbiting her, tidally locked, so that I always was facing and focused on her. As I orbited I would periodically pass through the dark umbra she cast forth, and would proceed forward, in the darkness, expecting and awaiting the return of the light. This time though the light is not to return, the luminous planet is merely gone, and the lost and lonely moon is left drifting off into the quiet, cold blackness of space.

I think Joann's post says it well - "where there is deep grief, there was great love." The tribute that you wrote for Stephanie's service is beautiful and is a profound expression of how special a person she was and the depth of your love for her. Her loving spirit lives on in the people she touched and in the horses she nurtured.

Bob, my heart is breaking for you. I am so very sorry and offer my sincerest condolences to you, family, and friends. What a beautiful, touching memorial you wrote for her. Again, so very, very sorry to read this.

I am so sorry. I really don't have any words to express how sorry I am,

Bob, you've got a wonderful way of expressing yourself and your tributes to your lovely wife really honor her and help us to know her in a way we couldn't without you.

Sending you healing and strength.

Bob, you do write beautifully. Perhaps this is one way you can keep a journal of your thoughts and could write your feelings when you need to express yourself. Whether it is the sadness, anger, remembering moments of joy, or whatever in your grieving, you do have a gift for writing.

I recall several of the photos you posted of her riding and the pride you felt in her. Be well, and and know you are surrounded by caring friends.

Wishing you peace and strength during this heartbreaking time.

She was very beautiful and so young! Your tribute is lovely.

Remember, while it feels like you are alone, you are not. My deepest sympathies for you.

I am truly sorry for your loss. I'm sorry that you and your family have to go thru this. It doesnt matter how we lose someone, what matters is the pain and grief you have because you lost someone you love. We are here if you want to talk or need a distraction. God bless her soul.

I rarely post but, Bob, you have honored everyone here by coming to us and sharing what you and your family have been thru. Thank you. ~ You DO have a gift with words and I, too, suggest journaling. Please accept my sympathy and please continue to reach for our hands....hands extended to you in peace, strength and prayer.

I’m so sorry, Bob. Just saw this after I posted on the other thread. Depression is a sneaky disease, striking when least expected and taking those who seem to be doing well. I have lost someone very important to me, and I understand the pain and guilt.

This is so heartbreaking that I am at a loss for what to add; I am so sorry, Bob.

Oh Bob, No one knows why this happens, but I send hugs to you to help you day to day.

Dear Bob, my condolences to you. The posters above have said it all in spades.

Please give yourself time to heal. Do not make major decisions at this point, decisions like selling your home. Wait on items that can be delayed. Let time work its healing process. Attend to necessary details and take a year for yourself. After a healing period, you will be better prepared to take on major life changing decisions and you may feel differently. As a friend, I say this to prevent a decision that you may regret later.

Oh, Bob, what a shock. And shock compounds grief. Here's something I wrote five years ago. I hope you'll find something in it to help you.

Advice to the Grieving

Your wife was beautiful. She still is.

Bob, I am so very sorry for your loss.

I have no words except to say how sorry I am for your loss.

Hugs to you Bob. I'm SO sorry to read this. : (

I don't know how much help it will be but on our website, I have a page for widows & widowers. You may find something of help there. Widows & Widowers help page

Here is another posting I wrote for her Facebook page a couple of week ago:

I’ve been going over and over and over and over and over everything in my head – like I do – trying to put it all together, trying to make it make sense, but it is all too fresh and too raw still. Too full of self-blame and self-recrimination for not seeing and for seeing and not doing, for me to write about. This morning instead I’ve been scrolling through her past Facebook postings, which has led me to remembering and dwelling on an experience from this past summer that at some level may be a microcosm of our life together and a perhaps a metaphoric foreshadowing of recent events.

This past summer Stephanie announced that she was entering the Blowing Rock Horse Show in the mountains of western North Carolina. Her friend Andrea had talked of how fun the show was for years, but it always fell around the time we would travel to visit family on Block Island. She asked whether I wanted to go, saying it should be a fun getaway to a beautiful location and a cool respite from the summer’s heat. Even though I knew it would be a lot of work with most of her thoughts and energy focused on horses, and classes, and warming-up, and the like, I decided to go because being with Stephanie when she was busy with horses and happy is always better than staying home, alone and bored.

On the whole, the trip was fun, even though it was almost entirely horse focused: feeding, cleaning the stall, warming-up, riding, watching her friend’s students ride, watching a half-brother to her expected foal, taking a multi-mile hike/trail ride that was supposed to calm and relax Carmen but instead seemed to make her more anxious, or even dinners or a gathering with the friend’s student’s families. I suggested two things as non-horse activities we could do together while there. One was a visit to the “Blowing Rock” for which the area is named, which is a rocky overlook with vast panoramic views but which is touristy and kitschy and because of that a little disappointing. The second was a hike down a narrow ravine trail nestled right in the heart of the city of Blowing Rock. It is only about 1.5 mile out to the end and passes three waterfalls along the way. Given that I cannot resist waterfalls and given how close the trailhead was, it seemed an ideal interlude between a day of showing and a dinner with the horsey friends.

It all started well enough as the trail followed along one side or the other of a small creek that had carved the narrow ravine. Right as we reached the top of the first waterfall Stephanie pulled out her phone to try to deal with some minor crisis or conflict that had arisen back at the proverbial ranch. I mentioned that I was going to try to get a better view of the waterfall and went ahead about 100 ft down a steep rocky section of the trail, and then because the view was no better, I climbed down the edge of the creek embankment to the base of the falls. I snapped a few pictures and climbed back up to the trail. She was not to be seen, so I bounded back up the steep rocky section to where she had been on her phone, and again nothing. I raced back down the trail a few hundred yards, calling out, but neither saw nor heard any sign of her.

Uncharacteristically for me, I thought to try calling her, but found that due to the narrowness and depth of the ravine there was no signal. I then thought that perhaps she had gone back up-trail to try to get a signal to complete the call or text she had been trying to send. So once again I raced up and up and up the trail, nearly half the way back to the parking lot growing more worried and and more angry the whole time. Finally, upon getting enough signal for my phone to try to send a message, I tried several times, but nothing was able to get through. So I then assumed she must have gone forward down the trail, and that simply I hadn’t gone far enough or shouted loudly enough, so I turned back down trail running with only the barest concern for my safety. I reached a T intersection in the trail. One way went up the base of the ravine to the base of the second and largest falls that I had just raced past, the other proceeded to the trails end at the third waterfall.

Choosing randomly, I went right, to the base of the second falls, and found no sign of her. I went back to the T intersection and went as fast as possible to the trail end, still with no luck. Could she have fallen? Could I have missed her when I took the other fork of the T? Could she have been carried off by strange back-country folk? Or a bear? Could she have merely turned and went back to the truck since we were supposed to meet people for dinner? I started back up the trail, fueled by worry and desperation and adrenaline, legs pumping, heart hammering nearly out of my chest, lungs sucking trying to get enough air for the effort.

By the time I was about halfway between top of the second falls and the first one where we had first become separated, I saw her ahead resting briefly along the trail before continuing the hike back out of the ravine. I called out and quickly caught up to her as palpable waves of love and anger and relief washed over me and asked between ragged breaths where she had been.

She had never heard me say I was going ahead to photograph the waterfall, and so she initially walked right by where I had gone off trail, and was irked and piqued that I had gone ahead without her, while she had stopped to use her phone. She hurried on to “catch-up” to me and went all the way to the end of the trail and waited and waited and waited, for about 30 minutes while I raced frantically up and down the trail, and then she decided to head back, which happened to be during the short time while I had gone the other way at the T intersection.

We finished climbing the rest of the way back to the truck, mostly in silence since I was too winded to talk, and met up with her friend Andrea at a restaurant that coincidentally overlooks the very beginning of the trail.

I realized then that the anger was mostly directed was at the worry and anguish I had been feeling but within it was also a kernel of anger at how after all we had been through in our life together, that she would think I would or even could wander off ahead leaving her alone in the woods. “Does she not even know me?” "Doesn’t she know, by now, that I will always be there for her, whatever she is facing?”

This is the same anger that has been passing through me in seething waves over the last weeks: Whatever metaphorical dark place she felt lost or abandoned or trapped in, how could she not know that whatever she was facing, no matter how awful she felt, no matter the emotional cost to me, no matter the effort it might involve, that I would always, always, always be there for her?

Bob, I am so very sorry to see this. I am not often here anymore, but something made me check in today. Now, I see why. I have always enjoyed your posts, feeling the love you have for Stephanie. She will always be with you, as will the love you have for each other, even though she is no longer physically with you. Please know that you have my sympathy, and prayers.

Dear Bob, the black hole of grief is very real. I experienced all of the negative emotions and what ifs two years ago when I lost my husband to cancer. Even though I had four years to contemplate the idea that he would die and leave me, I was devastated. When the funeral was over and my friends and family had dispersed, I sat at home trying to wrap my head around what life was going to be. I was short of breath and my chest hurt until I thought I was having a heart attack. When I saw my doctor, he gave me a very light dose of anxiety medication which I took for 3 or 4 months to help me through the worst. Please don't hesitate to ask for help.

The strongest basic instinct within a person is survival. When that instinct is gone the person is very ill. You did not cause that illness, nor could you have cured it with any amount of love or diligence in the world. No matter how hard you try you will never understand the reasoning behind suicide. Sadly, it is simply something that now has to be accepted. Be kind to yourself. things will get better.

Bob - How are you doing today? Just wanted to ask.

I just read your last post about your hike and your question wondering if Stephanie knew how much you would always be by her side.

You probably know this in your head, but, for her, she wound up in such a dark and hard place that it was the only answer for her. It is a question that I have often asked myself as well.

Two people can be walking side by side on the same path and not see the same thing.

eld6161 - So very true and such a wise observation.

Bob, I am so sorry for your loss. I'm sure Spring 2020 will go down as the Spring you will never forget or want to relive. You have many friends at the Table and we are praying for you.

Like saltylime just said, your many friends here are indeed "here" for you. Some can offer you wisdom and comfort, others (like me right now) can only say "I hear you, brother."

i just now read this post and all I can say is I'm so sorry for your loss and for the pain that you are going through right now. I'm not good at saying any more than that having suffered many losses in my life. This is just going to take time.

I am so very sorry and I hope you have found some comfort here. Please know that we are here for you anytime.