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MENTAL HEALTH
CHALLENGES

fine details in my memory, which is largely visual, but
it would take only a word from someone or a glimpse
of something around the house to cause me to remem-
ber and choke up a bit. After another two months or
so, my control of the expressions of grief got better
and better. At some point, someone sent me the illus-
tration that accompanies this little essay. I don't recall
who sent it and have been unable to find a source for
it. Let me say that it absolutely describes what I was
going through.
At about six months after her death, my two daugh-
ters pushed (“nagged”) me to seek counseling. I was
outwardly fine when I was with people, but sank into
a morose gloom when alone, particularly at home.
They were convinced I was clinically depressed. One
of them came up with the name of a local psychiatrist
and I did go see him. At our first session he said, “You
aren’t depressed, you don’t need medications, you’re
mourning normally.” My four times talking with him
helped… although I must admit, I’m not sure why.
Over those nine-plus months, I was essentially totally
unable to start working on clearing out our much-too-
large home so that I could move to somewhere smaller,
with less than 2.25 acres of grass, weeds and trees to
care for. Then, somehow, a corner was turned and I
started working on that problem. I guess I have reached
the stage of acceptance. I called a woman Sondra and
I had known for some years and have been hanging
around with her a bit. It has been good for me: I never
realized how much I needed female companionship.
Do I still miss my wife? Oh, my, yes! Has missing her
ceased to be the center of my existence? Yes to that,
too. Do I feel that I am somehow disrespecting her or
minimizing our relationship? Absolutely not. I am priv-
ileged to keep on living, and now realize what a privi-
lege it is.

Dr. Fred Olin is a retired orthopedist and a member of the
BCMS Publications Committee.

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