There are many types of conundrums to entrap the bereaved. Some are serious. Some, such as this story illustrates, verge on the humorous.

Collette and I had a very long friendship with Alice and Rome. Our children were friends also. Rome died a few years before Collette. Alice and I continued our friendship and saw each other at family gatherings now and then.

One Christmas, Alice invited me to her home for an evening with her children, their spouses, and their children. It was a great evening, and in the middle of it, I called across the room to Alice. Unfortunately, I used the name Cadet, my pet name for Collette. I was flustered about what I had just said and wondered if anyone else had noticed. Alice simply got up, walked over, sat down beside me, and asked, “What did you say, Rome?” I knew then that everything was just fine.

Alice died a few years ago, and when I think about her I remember her kindness to me at that Christmas gathering.

We all mix names at one time or another. Bereaved friends understand and help one through such potentially uncomfortable times. It’s interesting that, while people who have remarried take such use of a loved one’s name in stride, many others do not. Unless you have been there, you can’t really be expected to understand this reality.

A few years ago, Claire and I attended a Victoria Hospice volunteer retreat. Discussions covered feelings that a bereaved person experiences at the time of the loved one’s death and during the years that follow. The subject of discussion turned to what happens if the bereaved person has a new relationship. Where does the couple live, what hap- pens to former homes, what becomes of possessions, and other related topics.

Someone asked me if being married again changed my feelings about my former life. I answered that while I still considered myself a bereaved person and had no wish to diminish or forget my forty-five years with Collette, now that I am married to Claire I believe, in my heart, that I have two wives. The person jumped up, ran across the room, gave me a big hug, and said, “I have been waiting for years for someone to tell me that.”

Her question wasn’t answered in the way the group expected, but the response certainly enlivened the discussion. The talk turned to how others handled this change in their lives. There was the couple who could not bear to give up any of their accumulated furnishings. They live in a house with so many possessions that they can hardly move. We are still waiting to see which one of them will throw in the towel and get rid of some of their combined stuff.

We have noticed that very few women seem to be able to live in another woman’s home. We remember the woman who moved into his house, spent a couple of years changing one thing after another, and finally bought their house.

Funny things happen to everyone who has a new relationship in later life. Bereaved people seem to develop a heightened sense of humor. I can remember assuring Claire with all the sincerity that I could muster that I was a completely trained husband and that I even had fourteen recipes at my fingertips. That was a downright fib, and I have paid a severe price since delivering it, I can assure you.

It wasn’t long after Claire and I were married that we began to call each other by our loved ones’ names. We have laughed about this tendency, and, of course, we mean no disrespect either to each other or to our former partners. The names are simply gentle reminders that our loved ones are still a part of our lives. Claire does not have any difficulty answering to the names Collette or even Cadet. I have absolutely no problem responding to John. After all, that’s my name!

Claire and I have talked about this subject many times. Her husband, John, also died in the care of Hospice. Claire, as do I, feels his presence in our lives. We talk about John and Collette frequently, tell stories of our former lives with these wonderful people, laugh at the silly things married people do now and then, but most of all, we include them in our life together. I moved into Claire’s home when we got married, and of course I brought many things from my former life. Claire and I are comfortable with the past, and our home contains many personal things that remind us of both Collette and John.

I am sure that some will find it hard to understand but once in a while, one of us will say, “Wouldn’t it be nice if John or Collette were to see this?”

We do understand that our former spouses will not return, but it is our way of not forgetting them. Claire and I believe that those we have loved are still with us in spirit, and we are thankful for their presence.

We have had the privilege of sharing our experiences with remarried friends, and the stories we have heard are very similar to ours. Some are told in quite different ways, but the message is always the same. It is good to remember our other lives; it is good to be grateful for the past and thankful for the future.