Guest Blogger James Farmer
Updated: Aug 22
My Life After the Loss of My Wife By James Farmer
My third wife, Ann, and I met in 1996 after I placed an ad in the statewide newspaper looking for a Christian woman. One week after she answered the ad, we scheduled a date.
I’d already been married twice and divorced twice by the time we met. Ann had been divorced five years when we met. Both of us had been married 13 years before our first divorces. To commemorate our 14th anniversary, we celebrated breaking the 13-year mark of our marriage.
At the time, I was living in Brandon, Mississippi, and she was in Greenville, Mississippi. Although we lived 230 miles apart, we decided to meet. She had planned to be in Jackson, Mississippi, which was 14 minutes from my house, to visit her daughter for Easter. I offered to pay for Ann’s motel room, and she accepted.
On the day she arrived, we met for dinner at Shoney’s. After dinner, we sat in her car, talked for two hours, and shared our life stories.
One month later, I visited her in Greenville. During that time, we decided to live together. The following month, we got married in Lake Village, Arkansas. We loved each other, and I’m forever grateful that we met.
Soon after we got married, I got a job at Marconi, a company that manufactures the green metal boxes telephone companies place on the sides of roads. After I left there, I got a job at another manufacturing job, this time making bolts for the auto industry. When they closed, I attended college and earned my degree in Architecture. For the next few years, I worked various jobs with companies like Viking and Enterprise Rent-A-Car.
Ann loved being a teacher. She was a passionate and dedicated teacher who taught three different grades: Pre-Kindergarten, Kindergarten, and 1st grade for 28 years.
In 2000, I had to have bypass surgery and, 13 months later, I had a brain aneurysm. I underwent eight hours of brain surgery. Ann was with me the whole time. She prayed that she didn't want to lose me. But if it was God's will, she'd understand. Well, I survived! And life was good!
Then, twenty years later, in February 2020, Ann and I received devastating news that she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer. We couldn’t understand why, because she never smoked and had never been around a smoker.
After Ann endured several Chemo treatments, she had to have a hysterectomy. Then her health worsened when her doctor discovered lumps in her lungs as well as a growth in her vagina, which turned out to be a tumor. On September 21st, 2020, she underwent surgery, and that turned out to be the beginning of the end.
Later that month, because of Ann’s declining health, I had to make the difficult decision of scheduling hospice care at our house.
On the second day of hospice care, Ann lost the ability to speak, but the last words she ever spoke to me, or anyone, were "I love you" to me. After I left our bedroom, I cried like a baby.
The following day I lay in our bed with her for eight hours, talking to her, rubbing her hair, holding her close to me. At 11:40 PM, she took two short gasps, then one long one, and at 11:43 PM, December 2, 2020, she passed away three days after hospice care and one day before our 25th anniversary.
To say I was devastated is an understatement.
When the coroner arrived at our house to pick up Ann’s body, I felt numb and had no urge to cry. I also didn’t cry at the viewing at our church and at the funeral. I felt I needed to keep it all together and be strong. And prior to the second day Ann was in hospice care, I hadn’t cried since my mom passed away in 1996.
Then, six weeks after Ann passed away, it hit me hard!
I cried, I screamed, and I finally realized she was gone forever!
After I cried, I felt some relief. And then the reality of my new life sank in. For the first time in over 45 years, I was truly alone. And it was exacerbated by the fact that I received no comfort or support from Ann’s two daughters or my family.
Ann’s two daughters stopped communicating with me after Ann passed away. And my relationship wth my first wife and my kids hadn’t been good after the divorce. They all distanced themselves from me. I've not talked to my son in 15 years. I did briefly talk to my daughter once, but that was because she answered the phone when I called. She didn’t know it was me, and after I announced who I was, she said, “If I'd known it was you on the phone, I never would've answered.”
In 2023, I reached out to Jewel Elrich for help. She had been facilitating a Facebook Page about grief for men, Men Grieve Too, for three months. I asked her if I could take her place and moderate it. She said, “Yes.” As of the writing of this essay, there are over 10,000 men in the group.
As I’m helping other men, I’ve realized that it is also helping me heal from the grief of losing Ann.
I’ve told the men in the group that most of us grew up hearing real men don’t cry; well, that’s not true. Real men do cry... whenever they need to!
I’ve discovered that men struggle to cry in part because of how our society still raises boys, but it is also about how men’s brains are wired differently. For that reason, men are not as emotional as women.
I shared with the men how the last time I cried was in May of 1966, after my mom passed away. That I didn’t cry the day Ann died, and that it took six weeks for the big cry to come out of me.
Nowadays, I cry watching television shows or movies, after hearing a song, or when I see other couples together in public. These triggers remind me how much I miss Ann and that I will be alone for the rest of my life.
It has been six years since Ann’s death. At 73 years old and disabled, it has not been an easy transition living life without Ann. And not having a family makes it even more difficult. I have no one to talk with about my grief or to give me a comforting hug when I need one.
While I’ve come to terms with the crying, my biggest struggle is being alone. I absolutely hate coming home to our empty house. The only thing that helps and brings me comfort is my 10-year-old Shih Tzu, Mollie Sue.
Despite being alone, I'm doing the best I can. I’d like to think that Ann would be proud of me for what I've managed to accomplish without her in my life and how I have managed the grief of losing her.
I need 25 more essays for the Let’s Talk Grief 2 book. If you’d like to submit an essay, here are the guidelines and instructions.
Here is a testimonial from one of the contributors in the first Let’s Talk Grief book, Jolie Hackworth.
Thank you, Hogan, for helping me write my grief story and publishing it in your book. Losing a child by suicide is painful and complicated to talk about. Not everyone wants to talk about it or hear it. Writing my story allowed me to share my feelings about grief, so it wouldn’t continuously play in my mind. This cleared my focus on the love I have for Jon and created positive connections in my life that helped me move forward with grace, peace, and harmony. I hope the grief stories in your book will help others!
Essay Guidelines and Instructions
There is “no fee” to submit the essay.
The author must submit their essay through the “Let’s Talk Grief™” website’s “Get In Touch” Form located on the Home Page above the photo at http://www.letstalkgrief.org. In the form, the author can paste their essay and include a written statement of permission for publication on the Let’s Talk Grief Blog. If I select their essay for the book, I will request another permission letter and share 50% of the royalties from book sales with the author and the 50 contributors.
Anyone who submits an essay will receive a FREE Digital copy of the first “Let’s Talk Grief” book.
Please don't worry about grammar or writing skills. Just write from the heart. I will review and edit the essay, then send it back to you for your review, edits, and approval.
You are free to write whatever you like about your grief experience. Write the essay in Times New Roman, 12-point font, with double spacing, and a word count between 1,000 and 1,500 words. I will make exceptions for essays exceeding 1,500 words. The deadline for submission is September 30, 2026.
If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
Thank you for your time.
Together, Let’s Break the Silence and Heal With Grace, Peace, and Harmony!
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