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Original poster

My deceased husband read my text message :(

93 replies

WhiteWidowWithAttitude · 28/12/2025 12:11

My husband died suddenly and unexpectedly two years ago. I’m mid 40s with children (tweens through to very late teens) and it floored me completely. I’m a very introverted person when it comes to personal emotion though, so I don’t talk to friends or cry with them about my loss. I can’t cry in front of the kids because if they see me destabilised, it scares and upsets them.

Sometimes it feels like I’m completely alone in my grief because of this, but one of the things that kept me going was sending him text messages. His phone account was a work and personal one (the handset was his), and his employer left it connected for over six months. Mainly I think so I could still use it for all the administrative shit that comes with dealing with a death.

The phone is in my bedside drawer. Mostly without battery, but sometimes I would charge it, to get access to emails, get photos etc etc. I would send him text messages saying all the things that I never ever got to say. Sometimes sad and gushy, other times jokey, sometimes just mundane shit when I wanted to talk to him and couldn’t. One day, the messages stopped going through. It was sad, but I knew the account wouldn’t be active forever. It was just another thing that I had to try to move on from. I still sent texts, but they just stayed green and it didn’t bother me.

Well it was his birthday not long ago. I hadn’t messaged him for a couple of months. I sent him a happy birthday message. Along the lines of “Happy birthday my love, miss you and love you, the kids are doing well, you’d be proud of them, until I see you again, WW xx” etc. Imagine my shock when the messages was delivered in blue and I instantly got a read receipt!? At first I felt relieved, like the last two years had been a bad dream, the replying bubble started showing, and my heart was in my mouth and then it stopped. Then for a split second I wondered if I was dreaming, or worse going mad. Then the penny dropped that his mobile number must have been recycled and some poor fucker had just received a very personal and random message. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

They have never replied to say “who is this?” Or “sorry, wrong number”. Which to be honest, I’m glad about, I didn’t want to have a conversation with a random, explaining or apologising. But obviously it means that I can never text him again. It’s like another part of him is gone.

Grief is so damn shit. Everyone says that time heals, but sometimes it feels like there will always be things that come along to kick you in the guts, just when you think you’re doing a bit better.

Sorry for the essay, and I don’t know what I wanted from posting this, but there’s no one in real life I could share it with. It makes me feel a bit better that this story would probably have given him a right good laugh at my expense, we had pretty dark humour and the thought of me waiting for a reply from the grave would have made him giggle.

OP posts:
MyrtleLion · 28/12/2025 13:09

WhiteWidowWithAttitude · 28/12/2025 12:47

Thank you. I like to think he’s still with me. I’m not religious or spiritual, and I’m a clinician so I’ve always believed that death was so final. But I can’t allow myself to fully believe any more that you’re just gone. Like I understand the physiology of death, I experience it every day, in all settings and situations. I experience traumatic death, children dying, sudden death, self inflicted death - all aspects of mortality. But my husband dying has changed something inside me, fundamentally. I like to hope he is still somewhere. Doesn’t make any sense does it?

I grew up in chaos, which I think is one of the reasons I have never been able to show anything but stability and calm to my DCs. I couldn’t even cry at his funeral, because I think stoicism has been ingrained in me, partly through my work, and partly in a desperate attempt to never upset my children. I’m worried that the DCs would be terrified if they saw me break down.

Show quote history

I don't think they would be terrified. I think they would learn that grief is normal and that you miss him as much as they do. It might give them permission to have all of their feelings and not shut them away.

Everyone grieves differently and at different times. It's ok to say you miss him and you're upset because he died. They might want to support you too.

I'm sorry he died. Let them know you're sad. Let them know that it's normal and lasts a long time. Grief is like a big hole the size of your life. But over time your life grows bigger. Grief stays the same.size but feels smaller as you grow round it. Every so often it will hit you and that's OK. Let it out and don't be afraid to let them see it.

Elsvieta · 28/12/2025 13:10

I'm sorry. I think you should email him, or write him little notes.

It's a shame they have to recycle the numbers. I mean, it must sometimes happen that the new owner of a number actually has reason to call someone who knew the deceased, or does so due to dialling a wrong number. Imagine seeing that on your screen as the phone rings. Horrible.

ThisTicklishFatball · 28/12/2025 13:10

Hugs. I’m sorry for your loss.

I totally understand. I still keep all the past messages, emails, and other things my deceased loved ones sent me. Certain times of the year, I feel the need to talk to them again. I’m not great at dealing with grief, and part of me can’t seem to fully accept or move on, no matter how much time has passed, which doesn’t make it any easier.

Lilactimes · 28/12/2025 13:18

WhiteWidowWithAttitude · 28/12/2025 13:09

Oh god. I never even thought that the number would have been recycled to one of his colleagues! He was in a senior managerial role in the company and had been with them for almost 20 years. I knew most of his colleagues and they all knew me. I just thought that it would have been recycled by the phone carrier and could be anyone anywhere. Thank god the text wasn’t any more raw or exposing if that’s the case.

Show quote history

Hi @WhiteWidowWithAttitude - I'm pretty certain that the number will have been redistributed by the carrier and not the Employer.

Im so sorry for your loss. In addition to some of the suggestions on here could you also try grief therapy? Perhaps as a family and individually? There is also a very practical podcast on dealing with extreme grief and loss by Claudia Winkleman and Tanya Byron on Spotify. There series is great and the one on grief and Tanya's suggestions are really helpful.

wishing you a calm and peaceful 2026 ❤️

JingleAllTheWayToBed · 28/12/2025 13:19

I set up an email account that goes to nowhere in this same sad situation. I'd email that instead, when I couldn't text anymore. Wasn't quite the same, but it helped.

My love to you, OP.

HighlyUnusual · 28/12/2025 13:20

I'm also a widow. I know lots of people who have continued to have conversations after their partner's death, my grandma chatted to my grandpa privately for over twenty years afterwards. I never did that, don't know why, just felt like when he was gone he was gone and that was that. I did take a long long time grieving though, the first two years didn't even believe he was dead properly, followed by a third awful year in which it really hit home and it's only several years on that I don't think about those bad times towards the end too much. I don't think about it as much as I used to and I'm happy to move on with living a new life, kids being older and so forth. That said, there's always the odd thing that just makes you catch your breath or brings you to tears.

I think it would be fine to let your children see you cry, it doesn't have to be uncontrolled sobbing, more that you miss Dad and get misty-eyed. I think it helps them remember you loved him and are grieving too. It's a heart hurt and it's not beyond their capabilities to let you have that or for them to have it either.

HighlyUnusual · 28/12/2025 13:22

I also get, though, how you have held it together so admirably for them. It's very hard to be very capable, work well, be a great parent, help them through grief, and then let your own grief show through, you can also feel everyone else has moved on by the time you get to your opportunity. I did find it caught up with me years later though.

You sound like you have done an amazing job with your children, don't underestimate this, being a lone parent this way is the toughest thing to do.

Colourbrain · 28/12/2025 13:26

WhiteWidowWithAttitude · 28/12/2025 12:47

Thank you. I like to think he’s still with me. I’m not religious or spiritual, and I’m a clinician so I’ve always believed that death was so final. But I can’t allow myself to fully believe any more that you’re just gone. Like I understand the physiology of death, I experience it every day, in all settings and situations. I experience traumatic death, children dying, sudden death, self inflicted death - all aspects of mortality. But my husband dying has changed something inside me, fundamentally. I like to hope he is still somewhere. Doesn’t make any sense does it?

I grew up in chaos, which I think is one of the reasons I have never been able to show anything but stability and calm to my DCs. I couldn’t even cry at his funeral, because I think stoicism has been ingrained in me, partly through my work, and partly in a desperate attempt to never upset my children. I’m worried that the DCs would be terrified if they saw me break down.

Show quote history

Thank you for saying more, that all makes a lot of sense. I appreciate that for your work there has been a need to perhaps step back and see things in a black and white way but that perhaps your personal experience here is more nuanced and grey? That your sense is that he is still here even though rationally that makes no sense to you? This all sounds understandable to me.
Also I hear you on the chaotic childhood and not wanting to break down, but to feel sadness and cry is not chaos, it is just to be human. I'm sorry that noone showed you that, but I guess you have an opportunity here to be different from your upbringing. Take care. x

TwinklySquid · 28/12/2025 13:28

If you block someone, can you still send messages? That might be an option.

Ihatelittlefriendsusan · 28/12/2025 13:29

MyrtlethePurpleTurtle · 28/12/2025 12:14

Oh, bless you. Silly thought - but can you continue to text your DH but just send to your own number? So you can still speak to him and have the messages

My dh's 16 year old died in February last year. He set up an email address and regularly emails his son with life updates etc. He nevwr replied when he was alive so the fact he doesn't reply isnt an issue iyswim, it is just a nice way for dh to still feel close to his son.

MatildaTheCat · 28/12/2025 13:33

I’m so sorry for your loss and for everyone here who has suffered bereavement.

However it’s made me smile to think of us all utilising technology for our grief- only a few tyears ago it would have been entirely different.

I still have my Dad and best friend in my favourites list. I doubt I’ll ever move them, they are part of the fabric of my life. And yes, I have their photos in my hall and I chat to them whenever I’m going in and out. It helps a bit.

Dontlletmedownbruce · 28/12/2025 13:37

That's so sad OP. You could buy a cheap phone and input that as dh number and continue with the messages if that's the medium you are most comfortable with. It's a good tool to process grief, do whatever you need to do to get you through the week

Original poster
WhiteWidowWithAttitude · 28/12/2025 13:40

Lilactimes · 28/12/2025 13:18

Hi @WhiteWidowWithAttitude - I'm pretty certain that the number will have been redistributed by the carrier and not the Employer.

Im so sorry for your loss. In addition to some of the suggestions on here could you also try grief therapy? Perhaps as a family and individually? There is also a very practical podcast on dealing with extreme grief and loss by Claudia Winkleman and Tanya Byron on Spotify. There series is great and the one on grief and Tanya's suggestions are really helpful.

wishing you a calm and peaceful 2026 ❤️

Show quote history

Thank you @Lilactimes - the thought that one of his colleagues might have received that message made me feel a bit sick. I know they would feel nothing but pity for me (although even the thought of that is horrendous in itself), but I’d still much rather that none of them read it.

I have a psychologist who I see regularly, but that is work related and we rarely discuss DH. I think it might be an idea to look into grief counselling, although I’m not sure how receptive DCs would be.

OP posts:
Mydogisagentleman · 28/12/2025 13:45

I'm at work, so haven't read all the replies.
Our local crematorium has a white post box to send letters from

AgathaDanbury · 28/12/2025 13:51

WhiteWidowWithAttitude · 28/12/2025 12:47

Thank you. I like to think he’s still with me. I’m not religious or spiritual, and I’m a clinician so I’ve always believed that death was so final. But I can’t allow myself to fully believe any more that you’re just gone. Like I understand the physiology of death, I experience it every day, in all settings and situations. I experience traumatic death, children dying, sudden death, self inflicted death - all aspects of mortality. But my husband dying has changed something inside me, fundamentally. I like to hope he is still somewhere. Doesn’t make any sense does it?

I grew up in chaos, which I think is one of the reasons I have never been able to show anything but stability and calm to my DCs. I couldn’t even cry at his funeral, because I think stoicism has been ingrained in me, partly through my work, and partly in a desperate attempt to never upset my children. I’m worried that the DCs would be terrified if they saw me break down.

Show quote history

This was written by Aaron Freeman (originally on NPR, now all over the internet and I suspect commonly read at funerals, but no less true for that)

“You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.”

Also, you say that your stoicism is hard wired because of your experiences, but your DH is also hard wired into your thoughts and the way you experience the world.

The time you spent with your DH is in the past, but it is still real.

I can't comment on spiritual belief in the afterlife, but I would argue that your DH is very definitely still here, just not in a fixed form that you can touch.

SweetMotherofAbrahamLincoln · 28/12/2025 13:51

If he had a Facebook account, could you send him messages on messenger? That would feel like they’re going through to him a little more too x

IbizaToTheNorfolkBroads · 28/12/2025 13:58

@WhiteWidowWithAttitude my dad died more than 30 years ago. He didn’t know thw world of digital comms, but sometimes I write to him. Largely about how the grandchildren he never knew ate doing (my 17 year old ds is so like him).

MidnightMusing5 · 28/12/2025 13:58

I know it may be potentially too late, but could younenquire with his original carrier if you can have the number and a sim so you have it to continue messaging?

PInkyStarfish · 28/12/2025 14:01

At family get togethers we sometimes light a candle and quietly reflect about loved ones who have passed and then remember them with shared stories and recall their lives so that they live on in our lives and the memory of them is passed down to the younger family members who didn’t know them but have learnt so much about them through us.

Original poster
WhiteWidowWithAttitude · 28/12/2025 14:02

AgathaDanbury · 28/12/2025 13:51

This was written by Aaron Freeman (originally on NPR, now all over the internet and I suspect commonly read at funerals, but no less true for that)

“You want a physicist to speak at your funeral. You want the physicist to talk to your grieving family about the conservation of energy, so they will understand that your energy has not died. You want the physicist to remind your sobbing mother about the first law of thermodynamics; that no energy gets created in the universe, and none is destroyed. You want your mother to know that all your energy, every vibration, every Btu of heat, every wave of every particle that was her beloved child remains with her in this world. You want the physicist to tell your weeping father that amid energies of the cosmos, you gave as good as you got.

And at one point you’d hope that the physicist would step down from the pulpit and walk to your brokenhearted spouse there in the pew and tell him that all the photons that ever bounced off your face, all the particles whose paths were interrupted by your smile, by the touch of your hair, hundreds of trillions of particles, have raced off like children, their ways forever changed by you. And as your widow rocks in the arms of a loving family, may the physicist let her know that all the photons that bounced from you were gathered in the particle detectors that are her eyes, that those photons created within her constellations of electromagnetically charged neurons whose energy will go on forever.

And the physicist will remind the congregation of how much of all our energy is given off as heat. There may be a few fanning themselves with their programs as he says it. And he will tell them that the warmth that flowed through you in life is still here, still part of all that we are, even as we who mourn continue the heat of our own lives.

And you’ll want the physicist to explain to those who loved you that they need not have faith; indeed, they should not have faith. Let them know that they can measure, that scientists have measured precisely the conservation of energy and found it accurate, verifiable and consistent across space and time. You can hope your family will examine the evidence and satisfy themselves that the science is sound and that they’ll be comforted to know your energy’s still around. According to the law of the conservation of energy, not a bit of you is gone; you’re just less orderly. Amen.”

Also, you say that your stoicism is hard wired because of your experiences, but your DH is also hard wired into your thoughts and the way you experience the world.

The time you spent with your DH is in the past, but it is still real.

I can't comment on spiritual belief in the afterlife, but I would argue that your DH is very definitely still here, just not in a fixed form that you can touch.

Show quote history

This has left me a bit speechless. ❤️ I want to reply to everyone, and I’m so sorry for everyone who has experienced loss, but I’m going to have to take a little time to take this in. I’ve never read this before, and it has hit me in a place I don’t think I knew existed. Thank you.

OP posts:
SweetnsourNZ · 28/12/2025 14:08

WhiteWidowWithAttitude · 28/12/2025 12:11

My husband died suddenly and unexpectedly two years ago. I’m mid 40s with children (tweens through to very late teens) and it floored me completely. I’m a very introverted person when it comes to personal emotion though, so I don’t talk to friends or cry with them about my loss. I can’t cry in front of the kids because if they see me destabilised, it scares and upsets them.

Sometimes it feels like I’m completely alone in my grief because of this, but one of the things that kept me going was sending him text messages. His phone account was a work and personal one (the handset was his), and his employer left it connected for over six months. Mainly I think so I could still use it for all the administrative shit that comes with dealing with a death.

The phone is in my bedside drawer. Mostly without battery, but sometimes I would charge it, to get access to emails, get photos etc etc. I would send him text messages saying all the things that I never ever got to say. Sometimes sad and gushy, other times jokey, sometimes just mundane shit when I wanted to talk to him and couldn’t. One day, the messages stopped going through. It was sad, but I knew the account wouldn’t be active forever. It was just another thing that I had to try to move on from. I still sent texts, but they just stayed green and it didn’t bother me.

Well it was his birthday not long ago. I hadn’t messaged him for a couple of months. I sent him a happy birthday message. Along the lines of “Happy birthday my love, miss you and love you, the kids are doing well, you’d be proud of them, until I see you again, WW xx” etc. Imagine my shock when the messages was delivered in blue and I instantly got a read receipt!? At first I felt relieved, like the last two years had been a bad dream, the replying bubble started showing, and my heart was in my mouth and then it stopped. Then for a split second I wondered if I was dreaming, or worse going mad. Then the penny dropped that his mobile number must have been recycled and some poor fucker had just received a very personal and random message. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

They have never replied to say “who is this?” Or “sorry, wrong number”. Which to be honest, I’m glad about, I didn’t want to have a conversation with a random, explaining or apologising. But obviously it means that I can never text him again. It’s like another part of him is gone.

Grief is so damn shit. Everyone says that time heals, but sometimes it feels like there will always be things that come along to kick you in the guts, just when you think you’re doing a bit better.

Sorry for the essay, and I don’t know what I wanted from posting this, but there’s no one in real life I could share it with. It makes me feel a bit better that this story would probably have given him a right good laugh at my expense, we had pretty dark humour and the thought of me waiting for a reply from the grave would have made him giggle.

Big hugs to you. My husband died 5 days ago unexpectedly, and all I really feel is numb. We had been together since I was a teenager and had just celebrated 40 years married. I am really dreading how I'm going to handle future Christmas times and it's not even new year yet.
He also had a business/personal phone.

SweetnsourNZ · 28/12/2025 14:11

I also lost my dad earlier this year and sent him a private message to his facebook a couple of weeks ago for his birthday. Maybe that's an option?

BillieWiper · 28/12/2025 14:15

I think there should be a service where the phone companies can agree not to reissue a phone number belonging to a deceased person at their family's request.

I'm so sorry for your loss. I hope you can still communicate with his soul/spirit in other ways. I'm sure he's always there looking down on you and knowing you still love him and he loves you. X

MrFluffyDogIsMyBestFriend · 28/12/2025 14:17

You're allowed to be human OP. I know it can be hard for children to see their parents as vulnerable humans but it can be hard to show emotion in front of loved ones who never do.

I personally think the physicist thing above is pretty meaningless. I'm not being harsh but it's totally based on our physical reality. I believe that our souls live forever but just not in the physical world....many people believe we exist here and somewhere else at the same time (I'm still learning and forever will be so I don't expect to make sense). Maybe have a read of Shamanism as a spiritual practice for daily life.

HighlyUnusual · 28/12/2025 14:23

@SweetnsourNZ I'm so so sorry to hear this, it is the most devastating thing. I've been there too and it is hard to take in. I very much wish for you that you have support around you, family, friends, people from the church, club, work, wherever is your place, as this is a big shock.