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Ask Ann Cannon: Losing my husband of 50 years was hard. So is the idea that now I’m somehow better off.

(Francisco Kjolseth | The Salt Lake Tribune) Ann Cannon

Dear Ann Cannon • My husband of 50 years passed away shortly before Christmas this year. He’d had Alzheimer’s and naturally everyone — family and friends both — views his death as a blessing. They’re not wrong. Alzheimer’s is a terrible, terrible disease. I wouldn’t wish it on anybody. And, because I was my husband’s primary caregiver, the past few years have been unbelievably challenging.

Still, I find myself feeling a little hurt that people, including some of my adult children, assume I should somehow be “happy” about my husband’s death. It’s like they don’t realize that when I married him all those years ago, I truly did marry him for better or for worse. He was my husband. I loved him. Yes, I’m relieved he’s not suffering anymore. Yes, my days will definitely be easier in many ways. But I am … sad. So sad.

I guess I don’t really have a question for you. I just felt like getting this off my chest.

New Widow

Dear Widow • Saying goodbye to a loved one is never easy, but (in my experience, at least) it’s especially difficult during the holiday season. I’m truly sorry for your loss.

There’s certainly no one “right” way to feel about a given situation. Our responses are shaped by our life experiences, as well as by our temperaments. Not everyone who has taken on the role of caretaker for a terminally ill family member will react the same way. And that’s OK.

But for what it’s worth, I do remember a good friend of mine, who also lost her husband to Alzheimer’s, telling me she felt the same way you’ve described here. Intellectually she understood that friends and family meant well, that they only wanted the best for her. But she was hurt (and even angered) that they neglected to acknowledge how difficult the physical loss of her husband was for her — even if her husband had been a reduced version of himself for some time.

Here’s something else my friend lost when her husband died: the shape of her days. Suddenly her time was her own to do with as she pleased. Instead of feeling liberated, however, she felt adrift — that nothing she did mattered very much anymore. This changed, of course, as she moved forward and found meaning in new activities. But still. Those months immediately after her husband’s death were difficult for her in all kinds of unexpected ways.

Thank you for sharing this experience with readers. And while you didn’t ask for my advice, I’m going to give it to you anyway because you know. Advice columnist!

Even the people closest to us can’t always read our minds. If it feels like it would be helpful to you, consider sharing with your adult children what you’ve said here. In certain ways, you all said goodbye to your husband when the Alzheimer’s set in, so they may not understand the sense of loss you’re experiencing now.

Also, keep a small notebook handy so whenever you have a memory of your husband, you can jot it down. A friend who’s a therapist recommended I do this after my dad died, and it’s given me much comfort. Maybe it will do the same for you.

Finally, be kind to yourself. Life will go on with all its small beauties and so will you.

Ann Cannon is The Tribune’s advice columnist. Got a question for Ann? Email her at askann@sltrib.com or visit the Ask Ann Cannon page on Facebook.