Peace, Love, and Grief – Secrets (Part 2)

Note: This particular blog was started last week. If you missed it, I suggest that you go back and read it first to understand this week’s blog.

As I said last week, many of the things I am going to write about today, I have mentioned before. However, not in this amount of detail and definitely not put together like this… and there is something new… Something I just learned last weekend…

For over a week now, I have spent most of my time trying to decide when a person’s privacy crosses the line to keeping secrets… especially in a marriage. Most of us have heard the saying “Dead men tell no tales”, which is probably true about a lot of things. However, when you start digging, you learn that quite often ‘dead men keep no secrets’…

Last week, I talked about subtle changes in Bruce’s behavior before he died. Signs I probably should have noticed and pieced together, but I didn’t. I wasn’t expecting him to die, so I wasn’t looking for any such signs. When something seemed odd, I asked and he gave a plausible answer, so I simply took him at his word.

This week, I remembered a few other changes that occurred near the end. For example, we had always dreamed of buying a boat big enough to sail the Caribbean when we retired, which meant we had spent years going to boat shows and seeing what options were out there. However, during the last few months, whenever I mentioned a show to him, he wasn’t interested. When I asked if that was still our long-term plan, he responded, “We just bought a house. Let’s just wait until it is closer to that time… Then, we can see what’s out there.” I was surprised. Knowing it was off in the future had never stopped us before, but it wasn’t worth arguing about, so I shrugged it off.

Then, there was a frantic search during the last couple of months, as he tried to purchase more life insurance. Yes, that would have been a big clue, except his reason made sense. According to him, his current policy was going to expire in a few months, and it only had his daughter as a beneficiary. He wanted to double it and add me. Okay… that made sense, but the ferocity with which he pursued this goal was crazy. (And because the Universe has a sense of humor, the approved policy paperwork, which only needed his signature to be binding, arrived the week after he died.)

Okay… so you get the picture…

Then, that awful night happened… I woke up in the middle of the night, called 911, did CPR, and watched Bruce die in my arms despite everything. As a consequence, I have spent years in therapy processing the trauma of my failure in that moment… Learning to live with the fact that the one time he truly needed me, I completed failed him.

After he died and all of his and my family were here, we quickly realized something else that was odd… Every piece of paperwork I needed to take care of all the “business” of death was stacked on the kitchen counter. He always kept a stack of paperwork there – bills, receipts, etc. So, I hadn’t noticed as that stack grew over the months… I didn’t think anything about it, and I never went through it. (We were both very respectful of each other’s things, including mail and paperwork.)

To me, finding the contents of that stack of papers was beyond weird… It was at that point that I started questioning if he had known something was wrong… if he knew he was dying.

When the Medical Examiner finished his autopsy (four months later), he kept assuring me that there was nothing I could have done that night. Bruce’s heart was twice the size it should have been. The only way he could have survived was to have a heart transplant. (Even in that moment, I knew that was something Bruce would never have done… He just wouldn’t.)

Many months later, when I was finally cleaning out his dresser drawers, I came across some paperwork from his doctor. It was for some lab work. Because I found it hidden under all of his clothes, I assumed he had never taken care of it, but it definitely fueled my suspicions even more.

At the same time, there was no way to prove what he did or didn’t know one way or the other. So many times, I thought back to that conversation when we lived in the apartment and after a battery of test, he reported that the doctor said to “keep doing what you’re doing”.

All of this I have mentioned in other blogs. I have even stated that if he knew, but chose not to tell me, there is a part of me that would understand. My thought was that he was probably trying to protect me, or maybe he was trying to ensure that our last months together were just normal without the pallor of death hanging in the air between us, (or me crying endlessly).

Then last Saturday happened…

I was setting up a new Wi-Fi router and moving some stuff around to make room. One of the things I moved was a bunch of old, half-used notepads. I use them for grocery lists, reminders to myself, scratch paper, and whatever else.

I picked up a handful, and an old stenographer’s notepad fell to the floor. When it landed, it was open to the last page. Immediately, I recognized Bruce’s handwriting. As most of you can probably relate, finding something handwritten by our lost loved ones is precious! I quickly picked it up and started to read.

It took me a minute to realize what I was looking at… On the page, there were four neat columns labeled, ‘Date’, ‘Procedure’, ‘Dr’, and “Facility”. Then, under those labels were over 20 tests and procedures. Most were for his heart and lungs, with a couple that were neurological, and even one test at a Cancer Center.

To say I was stunned would be an understatement. I dropped that pad like it was on fire. Inside, I felt like I had just been hit by a train head-on. I took the paper and immediately started looking up each test/procedure, each doctor, each facility, and each date.

HE KNEW… He really and truly knew. There was no longer any doubt.

Before, when I didn’t know for sure, I thought I could understand why he might have chosen not to tell me. However, now that it was in my face, I didn’t feel so understanding… I was a veritable explosion of emotions – and none of them were good.

The tears were flowing… I was overwhelmingly sad that he went through all of this by himseslf. How absolutely awful!!

I, also, felt intense anger when I thought about all the things that might have happened… He was a truck driver… What if he had been driving when his heart stopped?? He might have killed a lot of people – families and children.

Then there is the fact that I have spent over 13 years dealing with the trauma and guilt of not being able to save him that night, only to now realize that to an extent he chose to die. This was his choice. Yet he never said a word.

Plus, there were so many loose ends business-wise because we didn’t have a will. Did he really think it was fine to just let me try to figure it all out by myself??

Admittedly, there were also all the feelings of distrust and betrayal… This was a life-altering decision that affected both of us, and yet, he had not included me… That fact was truly hard to comprehend.

Was this a trust issue? Was this because we both hated confrontation? (I know I would have argued for him to live… so maybe??) Did he really prefer going through all of that alone? Did he mean to leave me out? Was he trying to figure out how to tell me? I couldn’t figure it out… None of it made sense.

It was all too much, and I was almost catatonic by the next morning. I even struggled to stay focused when I was getting dressed… It took me almost four hours that morning, because I kept finding myself getting lost in all those emotions and thoughts.

At this point, I want to be clear… I was angry and hurt, but at no point did my love for Bruce diminish. We all get angry at or hurt by the people we love on occasion. It just is. You can love a person and still be angry and hurt. The difference is that with a live person, you can have the hard conversation. That was not an option for me. Still, I knew once I could find a path to process all the emotions, I would be okay, but I just wasn’t sure how to get there.

Finally, on Wednesday, while talking to my mom, she mentioned that she could tell something was wrong and did I want to talk?… I unloaded… I cried as I told her everything. Her compassion and empathy were like a balm… She assured me that I wasn’t crazy for feeling all those emotions. Then she asked, “May I give my perspective?”

I agreed, but in my mind, I bristled at the thought. What perspective could she have that was relevant? She and my father are (thankfully) both still alive and well. She has never been through anything like this before.

Then she spoke, “My generation was one of the first to divorce their spouses in large numbers due the fact that women were finally able to have bank accounts, get credit cards, mortgages, and jobs. And when they remarried, usually their new spouses were also divorced. And while they loved each other, they couldn’t help but bring some of the hurt and baggage from their first marriage into the second. Learning to trust a spouse after being betrayed, abused, or hurt by the first spouse is a difficult thing. Many times, they would respond to each other as they would with their ex’s, even when they knew better or didn’t mean to. Many times, it might have felt like reopening an old wound even though things were completely different.”

I thought about what she said… She wasn’t wrong. I knew I had responded to Bruce as if he were my ex many times – with fear and dread of being physically hurt. Bruce was always patient and kind when that happened. Yet, I struggled with old patterns. For his part, he often talked about the hurt and betrayal he had felt in his first marriage… So, yes, we both had some baggage that we brought into this marriage to each other… And learning to trust was something we worked on within ourselves and together.

I also talked to Bruce’s family this week, and they were as stunned as I have been. They also shared that he had always been extremely private – rarely sharing with anyone when life was a struggle. Yet, they said that he had shared more with me than he had ever shared with anyone before… There are a lot of things I knew that they had never heard before, but after hearing them, his actions and choices made a lot more sense.

So… was he being private or keeping secrets? I think he was a private person who ended up keeping secrets because, maybe, he wasn’t sure how to trust and speak up… And maybe as time passed, that just got harder.

Once I realized all of that, suddenly, I wasn’t as angry… Suddenly, I could release all of those negative emotions and thoughts rattling around in my head. My heart still breaks that he went through all of that alone, and I wish we could have faced it together. However, I finally feel like, after 13+ years, I can put all the pieces into the puzzle. Finally, so much that didn’t make sense before makes sense now.

… And if I’m lucky, maybe this will be a BIG step on this grief journey that I call life…
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Secrets (Part 1)

Many of the things I am going to write about today (and next week), I have mentioned before. However, not in this amount of detail and definitely not put together like this.

When does being a private person cross the line into keeping secrets? Let’s talk about it and see where we land. I know the saying “Dead men tell no tales.” However, I would also say that ‘dead men keep no secrets’…

When Bruce and I were dating, one of our only real arguments happened because he lied to me. I knew immediately he was lying and called him out on it. He owned it at that point, and I let him know that lying was the one thing I couldn’t tolerate. I may not always like what I hear, but nothing can be fixed or understood if it is covered in a lie. I told him then that I would walk away if he ever lied to me again… At the very least, we both deserved the respect of the truth between us.

He agreed and apologized… As far as I knew, he never lied to me again. However, there was another dimension to this.

When we met, I knew right away that he was a very private person. If I had a question, I was free to ask; he was never offended. However, I quickly learned that he was not going to answer if he didn’t want to… He would open up to me eventually, but only in his own time and in his own way. For example, we were already engaged before he finally shared that he was on medication for high blood pressure and avoided certain foods and beverages because of it.

He didn’t make a big deal of it, and I didn’t either. I knew he always had a thorough annual physical, because of his job. Plus, he was very health conscious – working out, watching what he ate, getting a good night’s sleep, taking his vitamins… You name it, he did it. (Granted, he loved his beer, but I love my wine… and if you have ever spent a winter in Michigan, that is completely understandable. LOL) Overall, we were both on the same page when it came to taking care of oneself.

Fast forward to the year we moved down here to Florida for my job. We were both excited to live in the Sunshine State where (compared to Michigan” it would be summer year-round. We agreed to live in an apartment for the first year, while we sold our condo in Michigan, Bruce found a job here, and we got a feel for where we might want to live.

Bruce found a job within about six months, and life moved on. When he went for his annual physical that year, we both had some concerns about things we had begun to notice… little things… You know… those things that you are not sure if they are a symptom of something wrong or just a sign of growing older. I remember the doctor ordering several tests, but Bruce never shared what kind of tests they were. As usual, I left that in his hands, trusting that he would share when he was ready.

On the day when he went to discuss the results with the doctor, he reported back that she had told Bruce to “just keep doing what you’re doing.” (And yes, that is the exact quote he gave me.) I shook my head… “You’re lying,” I accused.

“I’m not,” he laughed… And so, that night we toasted to his good health.

A few days later, he brought up the idea of starting to look for a house. Our lease would be up in a month or so, and we needed to make some decisions about where we wanted to settle down. We both wanted to be near the beach but struggled to agree on which town. I remember one night he came home very excited. He had found a little coastal town where the houses were affordable, and our commutes to work would be about the same. That weekend, we drove out to this little coastal town, fell in love, and within a few months, we were moving in.

It was fun and exciting to have a place that truly felt like it was ours. At that time, he was off on Thursdays and Sundays, while I had a traditional schedule with Saturdays and Sundays off. We both tended to use Thursdays and Saturdays, to do some work around the house and to do some fun things on our own. Then, Sundays were our sacred time, because we were together, and we spent the day playing.

I remember one Thursday night after I came home, he made a comment that the dishes from the night before were still in the sink. Now, please understand that we had organically divided the household chores from the start. When it came to the kitchen, he unloaded the dishwasher and I loaded it. If there was handwashing to do, that was negotiable.

So, for me, there were two things wrong with the comment he made, and I let him know… 1. The dishes were still in the sink, because he had not emptied the dishwasher for me to reload it. 2. He had been home all day, and could have emptied it at some point, and even reloaded it if it bothered him that much.

His response, “Do you really think it’s fair that I should spend my day off, doing work around the house?”

I almost lost it… “Yes, I do! What do you think I am doing on my day off? We both work full time, and we are both capable of doing things around the house.”

He immediately apologized, and I immediately told him that if he wanted… and if we were careful to budget… I didn’t mind if he retired early, while I continued to work. I knew he wasn’t thrilled with his job, while I loved mine. Then, he would have plenty of alone time to putter around the house or play. While I know the idea was tempting, he never left his job.

There were things over the next several months that happened, but I wasn’t really paying attention… And even when I did notice, they seemed like little things… Things he would share when he was ready.

For example, he worked out less and less until after a few months, he was only going to the gym once a week and to only work his arms or legs… no cardio…no core. Strange, but definitely his choice. Sometimes while watching TV, I would notice him massaging his chest, but when I asked if he was alright, he would smile and say something about not realizing he was doing that.

These were the subtle signs of what was coming, but I had no idea. I wasn’t expecting him to die, so I definitely wasn’t looking for the signs. I simply took him at his word.

Then, that awful night happened… I woke up in the middle of the night, called 911, did CPR, and watched Bruce die in my arms despite everything. I have spent years in therapy processing the trauma of failing him in that moment… Learning to live with the fact that the one time he needed me, I failed… As I’m sure you can tell, I can still fall down into the rabbit hole of depression when I think about it for too long. I don’t think that will ever completely go away…

(To be continued next week)
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – More Myths

Last week, we talked about a couple of myths pertaining to grief. Today, I want to talk about a couple more… Things that society tells us are true, and while they may be true for some people, they have not been true for me. So, these are not about judging those people who find these helpful. It is meant to be a few words of support for those of us who do not find these helpful.

The first one is the idea that we can simply “replace” the loss. I know a lot of us may have learned this in childhood when we had a pet. I’m not saying that is good or bad. I am simply saying that it is not the best solution for everyone.

For me, love of any kind is not a switch that can be turned on or off at will… and grief for that loss is not something that I have ever been able to pretend wasn’t there. Instead, I believe that our grief is our heart’s way of speaking to us and guiding us through a difficult experience.

I remember after I lost my son at 20 weeks’ gestation. So many people were quick to say, “you’ll have more,” as if one child could ever replace another. That seems ridiculous to me. Granted, I did go on to have four more children. However, each one is their own person with their own personality and dreams. Of course, little Matthew was not replaced by one of them. For me, I have five very separate and distinct children. (period)

It is the same with the loss of Bruce. Within no time, I was being encouraged to move on and find someone else. For the first several years, the pressure to date and find a new romantic interest was overwhelming. I hated letting people down, but I couldn’t do it.

The thing is… I still love Bruce. I can’t turn it off… It just is. Also, the funny thing is, when we met, neither of us were looking for anyone. We were both quite content to remain single. In fact, he and I both had a “I’ll-never-marry-again” mindset due to such hard marriages the first time… But life had a different idea. Our love just happened… It wasn’t something either of us were actively searching for.

So, my point is not that a person shouldn’t fall in love again. Obviously, that is up to each individual. My point is that “moving on”, especially right away, may not be for everyone, and the world needs to be okay with that – let it be the individual’s choice when (and if) they decide they want to do that. Otherwise, are we really looking for love… or is society trying to get us to find a distraction from our grief?

Which leads me to the next one… “Keep busy.” I actually did a lot of this. I went back to work almost right away. Honestly, I was too scared of what I might do if I spent too much time alone, sitting here in our home with endless reminders of what I had just lost. I started working longer hours, running for longer lengths of time, going and doing… anything to avoid the quiet in our home that felt overwhelmingly oppressive.

Honestly, it wasn’t until I finally slowed down enough to start processing my grief and all the emotions I was feeling that I finally started to heal. For me, “being busy” was a distraction. (Just like the one I mentioned before.) It was my way of surviving what felt un-survivable. However, it really wasn’t helpful and it didn’t help me heal. All I ended up doing was avoiding the hard work of grief – the work I needed to do to actually start to heal.

As I said last week…

There are a lot of myths about grief and death… and most of them are based on ideas or behaviors that actually do the opposite of what they are intended to do. Whether we try to replace the loss or simply stay busy to avoid thinking about it, it is still nothing more than a distraction. It is like starting a fire in the closet and closing the door. The fire is not going to go out. Eventually, it is going to burst out of the closet and be bigger and stronger than if we simply taken care of it to begin with.

… And that is my wish again this week… That we all feel free to grieve as we need to… and to acknowledge and respect the grief process without adding silly rules that aren’t helpful for anyone.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – It’s a Myth

What is a myth? According to the dictionary, a myth is “a traditional story” or “a widely held but false belief or idea”. For what we are talking about today either definition works. In fact, whether you are the person grieving or the person offering support, there are a couple of “grief myths” that I want to address today.

The first one is the age-old notion of “being strong for others”. I know that about a month or so after Bruce died, I started hearing that I needed to appear strong for the people around. I heard how upsetting it was to see my hurt or pain, and that I had a responsibility to be strong for those people.

Can I just say how absolutely unhealthy that advice was?!

I understand that it is hard to watch someone you care about go through something painful… To know they are hurting, but to have absolutely no idea if or how you can help. I get it. As many of you, I have been in both positions… And the crazy thing is, we tell ourselves to “be strong” if we are also on the supportive side.

(Also… unhealthy advice.)

Here’s my thought… If everyone in the picture is “being strong” for the other person, then who is being honest about what they feel? Who is actually processing and working on their grief and pain? I’ll tell you who… no one.

You have to be honest about your feelings and emotions in order to heal. You can’t fix something if you are spending all of your time pretending it doesn’t exist.

That doesn’t mean everyone is crying or taking a dive into deep depression. We will all express our emotions differently. What I am saying is that I found more healing in the loving arms of people who grieved alongside me, than all of the “stay strong” scenarios combined. There was solace in knowing I wasn’t the only one who was going to miss Bruce and felt shock and devastation at his loss. Even my friends who didn’t know Bruce, (like my work besties), grieved with me and allowed me a safe place to talk about him, our life, his death, or my hurt.

That was where I found healing.

The other myth I want to talk about today is very similar. It is our cultural expectation to grief in private. This one follows that same line of reasoning that our grief may make others uncomfortable, therefore, we should keep it under wraps for the sake of those around us.

Again… that is bad (or incomplete) advice.

Yes, you cannot go into every situation and make it about you and your grief. That is rude and extremely self-centered, but that is not what I am talking about. Here is what I mean…

Many of us tend to isolate ourselves when we are grieving. I know for me, I couldn’t figure out where I belonged. I wasn’t technically married, but I still felt like I was. I wasn’t single, but the world saw me that way. Because of that dissonance, I didn’t feel comfortable out in the world. I spent a lot of time alone, which just fed the feelings of abandonment and loneliness that were a huge part of my grief.

Again, it was those people who made a point of including me that saved me. For example, I had some wonderful neighbors at the time. Every weekend, they made a point of knocking on my door and inviting me over for drinks or “kidnapping” me and going to dinner. At a time when I couldn’t figure out where I fit in this world, they made a point of showing me that I “fit in” with them just fine.

For them, they said it wasn’t much, but to me, it was everything! Having that space where they were willing to take me as I was, feeling whatever I was feeling, and not expecting me to shove it all down and pretend (while I was with them) that I was fine, was a balm for my soul that I cherished more than they can ever understand.

There are a lot of myths about grief and death… and most of them are based on ideas or behaviors that actually do the opposite of what they are intended to do. If we “stay strong for others” and/or only grieve in private, it is like starting a fire in the closet and closing the door. The fire is not going to go out. Eventually, it is going to burst out of the closet and be bigger and stronger than if we simply taken care of it to begin with.

… And that is my wish as I write today… That we all feel free to grieve as we need to… and to acknowledge and respect the grief process without adding silly rules that aren’t helpful for anyone.

____________________________________________________
Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – A Tribute to a Hero

Today, I want to take a moment to say “thank you” to someone who contributed so much compassion and understanding during that first year… I don’t think I’ve spoken about this person very often. However, this week, I knew I needed to bring this person’s caring attitude forward, as an example for the rest of us. (And yes, I am including myself in that “rest of us”.)

When Bruce died, we had been living in Florida for a few years and had been in our home for less than two years. Since we both worked an hour away, we spent a lot of time commuting and hadn’t really gotten to know our neighbors beyond knowing their names and friendly yard-to-yard brief conversations. We had no family nearby. (They were all scattered between MI, NY, SC, AL, and the UK.)

So, when Bruce died, I went to the hospital alone, and I came home alone. I started calling our families to tell them this terrible news, but I knew that the closest person would still face at least 6 hours of driving time, so I would be alone for many more hours.

My first inclination was to call one of my dear friends from work, but I knew she was scheduled to test a new system for our office that Saturday. I didn’t know my neighbors well enough to feel comfortable calling them… So, I called my boss. After all, at the very least, I knew I would need to let her know that I would not be at work on Monday. (I, also, knew that she had been a great source of strength for another woman in our office whose husband had been killed in a boating accident a few years before.)

It was the early hours of the morning, and I really expected to simply leave a message with the hopes that she would call me back when she woke up and saw it… or maybe she wouldn’t. I was in too much shock to think very clearly. However, she did pick up and less than an hour later, she was at my door.

At this point, things get a little bit fuzzy. However, I do remember that she was here when my son arrived. Then she stayed until she felt confident that I was in good hands. But… she didn’t stop there…

Throughout that first year, she helped figure out time off and any other benefits that were afforded me through our employer. She allowed my friends from the office to travel to the hour to my little town to be a source of physical support as I went about all the business that accompanies the death of a spouse. She knew I would be with family for the “big” holidays, and she always invited me to join her family for the smaller ones, as well as, spending random weekends at their home so that I wasn’t always alone every single weekend… and because that wasn’t enough, she also connected me with an amazing life coach who became my rock as I started working through the grief and trauma of losing Bruce.

This person was amazing! She offered so much to me during that time… Things I didn’t know that I needed and things that I would never have asked for if it had been left up to me, because it felt like too much to ask of another person. She did it all… and she did it simply from the goodness in her heart. I owe her so much more than I can ever repay, and every time I reflect on it, I know she was one of my biggest heroes that first year… A blessing I couldn’t see or recognize in the moment, but that over time has had a huge impact on my life and the choices that I make when others are in need.

Thank you, Sheri! You are an amazing person, and I have been blessed!
____________________________________________________
Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – A Huge Loss

Well, August has been quite the month. I’m not just referring to the loss of several, amazing performers. I am also talking about personal loss. A few weeks ago, I wrote about the loss of my cousin. Then, late last weekend, my father-in-law, Bruce’s Dad passed away… My hurt is so heavy at his loss.

I know I always talk about Bruce being my hero and what an amazing man he was. Well, he didn’t learn to be that man all by himself. Bruce’s Dad was the same way… He gave love easily, and he was easy to love.

We knew on Saturday that it was just a matter of “when”. He was in the care of hospice and those who lived close by had the opportunity to say their “good-bye’s”. For myself and my kids, we got together here at my house to share stories, hugs, tears, and to say good-bye to this wonderful man.

You see, he wasn’t just my father-in-law from a second marriage. From day one, he made it clear that he was my Dad too… And my kids? He loved them like all the rest of his grandchildren. So, we were all devastated by the news.

We ended up doing a little something out at the beach, (of course). We decorated a box with his name and a quote that seemed like it was written just for this wonderful man…

“There are some who bring a light so great to the world that even after they have gone the light remains.” ~ Unknown

We filled that box with flowers, incense, and letters that we each wrote to him. Then, we read some poems, a prayer, and gave a toast to a life lived well and a man who was an angel while he walked this earth.

At this point, everyone has gone home, but my heart is still hurting. There is so much I want to say, but my thoughts seem to be in a jumble so I don’t quite know where to start. I just know that I am absolutely heart broken. That being said, if you don’t mind, I’d like to share my letter to him, in an effort to bring him to life to you too… I want the world to know that this man filled a huge hole in my heart by simply loving me unconditionally from the moment we met.

“Dear Dad,
I am struggling to believe you are truly gone. It almost feels like losing another piece of Bruce from my life. : ( I will always remember the first time I met you… I walked through your door and you immediately wrapped me into the biggest hug ever. Then you immediately told me that you loved me. You said that anyone who could put Bruce’s smile back on his face was someone you loved already – no questions asked. Then, you grabbed my left hand to look for a ring and asked Bruce where it was and what he was waiting for. I was horrified, but Bruce just laughed. Several times a day throughout that visit, you would randomly grab my hand, wave it in Bruce’s face, and tell him to “hurry up and fix that”. LOL! You were right, though. Just a few months later we were married, and you (officially) became my Dad too… (And a grandfather to my kiddos).

Thank you!! Thank you for loving me and my kids unconditionally. Thank you for great hugs and the best advice. Thank you for being all the things a Dad can be – that was new for me. Thank you for great stories and fun games. Thank you for Bruce – for showing him how to be a wonderful husband, friend, and father.

It brings me peace to know that you two are together again (and probably up to some shenanigans)!

I love you so much and my heart is so broken to know I will never hear you tell another story or laugh or tell me that I am your daughter too, and that you love me. To never fell your hugs or share some tears whenever we said ‘good-bye’ just seems wrong.

I love you, Dad, and that’s forever! XXXOOO”
____________________________________________________

Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Grieving Your Own Way

You may have noticed that I was MIA last weekend. I was in SC for the life celebration of my cousin that I wrote about the week before. Sometimes, I’m not quite sure how to describe those events. Obviously, they are for the living. It is a chance to share stories, tears, and hugs.

For all of the cousins, there was the realization that moving forward, we want to go back to having a “Cousins’ Reunion” at least once a year. Somewhere along the way, we let the busy-ness of life take hold and that yearly time together dissipated… But the love we always shared was still there, and so is the resolve to do better… to love better.

The day after, one of my daily readings was about grief and the act of mourning. (Talk about perfect timing!) In it, the author, who is a Native American, wrote about how the different ways humans express their grief. For example, here in America, we tend to expect people to “get over it” quickly or at the very least to grieve quietly. While is other cultures, professional mourners are actually hired to wail and cry in an effort to help the bereaved release their own grief.

I think, for me, I needed the latter when Bruce died… I think that maybe some of my anger, which I struggled to even acknowledge, was due to the unsaid expectations of others to grieve quietly and leave them out of it… After all, it made people very uncomfortable.

However, I have always been the one to feel all the things, and usually, that comes out in the form of tears… uncontrolled, big, fat tears. As a child, my poor mother was always trying to teach me not to cry. I can’t tell you how many times I heard “It’s time for you to grow up and learn to control those tears.” (Anyone who knows me can tell you…that didn’t work.) Instead, no matter how hard I fight it, the tears come. Then, I am embarrassed, which makes me cry more. Sigh… It’s ridiculous. (At the same time, my blood pressure is great! LOL!)

Personally, I think the pressure to “hide” my grief played a big role in how long it has taken me to find my way forward. Sure… for some people, quiet mourning is probably what is best for them. At the same time, I think we would all be a lot better off if we also accepted that we are all different. Meaning that others (like me) may need to express our grief more openly… without shame or fear of negative response from others.

In my opinion, the Native Americans got it right. So much of their Ancestral wisdom hits my soul with how simple and right it is, and their wisdom about grief is no different. For example…

“The purpose of mourning was to empty the burden of grief from the bodies of those who remained behind. Our Wise Ancestors understood that grieving was a part of the healing process.” ~ Jamie Sams, Earth Medicine

Maybe one day, our different cultures will come to realize that just as birth and death are a part of life, so are the joy and grief that accompanies each of those events. Maybe we will learn to accept each person’s needs in grief as easily as we accept their joy in life.
____________________________________________________

Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Saying Goodbye

Less than a year before Bruce passed, we were at his family reunion in Michigan when word came that one of his cousins had just died from a gunshot wound. From what I remember, it was an accident. Nothing malicious… but that didn’t make it any easier on anyone there.

I don’t remember ever meeting this cousin nor do I remember Bruce ever talking about him. However, I will always remember how shook-up Bruce was. He was a quiet person anyway, and this news left him pulling deep within himself. In fact, I don’t think he said more than a handful of words for the rest of the trip.

He tried to talk about it a couple of times, but he just couldn’t… Talking would mean letting go… losing control… and he wasn’t going to do that in front of anyone. Months later, when he was ready, he finally talked about how it had felt hearing the news and seeing all of the pain around him. He shared some memories about his cousin. He talked about how his grief was deeper than he would have expected. That death hit him hard and he struggled with it for the few months he had left.

I admit that I didn’t really understand his grief at that point, because it was something I had not experienced. However, I had compassion for his pain… I could be extra kind and caring on the harder days… I could listen when he needed to talk… In other words, it wasn’t my pain, but I could still hold space with and for Bruce as he processed his grief for someone he loved who had died way too young.

Then, Bruce died… And I certainly received my own lessons on grief and pain and all that goes with losing someone you love way too soon. (You know that… that is what I usually write about here.)

This week, I lost one of my cousins. He was younger than me by several years, but I still have lots of memories with him growing up. When he and his sister were really little, they came and lived with us for a summer due to their mother recovering from some health issues. Then when I was older, I would spend my summers in Charleston, bouncing between my grandparents’ and my cousins’ homes. There were only a few of us cousins, but there were plenty of shenanigans and precious memories made.

As adults, we stayed in touch for a long time. We used to have an annual “Cousin Reunion” and there were phone calls a few times a year just to catch up on life. Then somehow, life got crazier and all of that seemed to slowly fade.

We still spoke when we saw each other, but that was usually at a family funeral every few years. Over time, I have watched my cousins’ kids grow up via Facebook and somehow convinced myself that was enough… It wasn’t.

And I figured it out this week, when I got the message of his death. I knew immediately that despite all of my talk here about life being precious… about spending time with those you love… and telling them… I have dropped that ball… and I regret that so much.

This week, there have been a lot of conversations between the cousins. This is our wake-up call… This is our time to rally around our cousin (his sister) and just be there… This is the time for all of us to come back together and create new memories. This is also our time to get reacquainted with each other and each other’s families.

I have also been in touch with my cousin’s daughter this week. She is an amazing woman. She has been kind and gracious, despite the pain I know she must be experiencing. She has been on my heart all week. I don’t know what it is like to lose a parent. (Mine are still alive and we talk almost daily.) However, I do know how hard it is to lose someone you love.

Personally, I think one of the hardest parts about losing someone is saying “goodbye”. For most of us, you don’t get the chance to say it before they die… especially when they die unexpectedly and/or too young. Instead, you are stuck trying to figure out how to say it afterward… (Or, like me… maybe it is still something you are working on years later.)

What I do know is this… Death is awful. Each journey is different – the pain and the grief are as individual as fingerprints. Right now, my cousin is being grieved by his four children, his sister, his extended family, and his friends… and for each of us that feels a little bit different. For all of us, the world is spinning just a little bit slower without him this week.

To his children and his sister, I am so sorry for your loss and your pain. I wish there were words that I could write here that would make this journey a little bit easier… but there aren’t. All I can do is love you… and I do.

Just sit there right now
Don’t do a thing
Just rest

For your separation from God
Is the hardest work in this world

Let me bring you trays of food
And something
That you like to drink

You can use my soft words
As a cushion
For your
Head
~ Hafiz
____________________________________________________
Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief
* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – The Anger

I just want to be able to smile again.
I don’t want to be angry and bitter.
This isn’t me.
I am praying…
No… begging God for healing.
We will see if His promises
Are meant for me too.
~ Linda, Feb 2013

I have often heard the phrase, “the landscape of our heart” when speaking about our outlook on life and love. Throughout my relationship with Bruce, I would have described my heart’s landscape as a gorgeous spring meadow filled with an array of delicate spring flowers under a crystal blue sky. It was a place of newness… and hope… and adventure… and love – mostly love.

When he died, that landscape was completely shattered – like dropping a full crystal goblet. Glass and sharp shards scattered everywhere… and the contents spilled on the floor amongst all of it. All that was left was a huge mess – everything was lost.

At first the only emotion I can remember feeling was shock. I mean, I know I was sad… I couldn’t seem to stop crying. I had to focus just to breathe. Those first few weeks were just a blurred nightmare.

It didn’t take long, though, for my mind to start looking at this new reality, and what I didn’t expect (nor could I even acknowledge, at first) was the anger. I had no idea that the biggest emotion I would feel was anger… and I was so incredibly angry.

However, my whole life I have been told that anger is a sin. It was a “bad” emotion, and as a woman, it was my job to let it go and maintain control… So, if I’m honest, I don’t think I even recognized that anger was the emotion I was feeling.

Everything I read, the support group I attended, the people around me… everyone kept telling me that anger was normal, but I would deny I was angry every single time. All I knew was that I was grieving, (whatever that was) … but in reality, I was incredibly angry.

I was angry at God/the Universe that Bruce was dead, and I was here. I was mad at Bruce for dying and leaving me here. I was mad at myself for not saving him that night. I was mad at other couples for still being together. I was mad at the kind words people offered, because it just made my situation more real. I was at people who didn’t acknowledge my loss, because my pain was so deep how could they not notice. I was mad about all the “business” that goes with death, because I had no idea what I needed to do. I was angry when people checked on me, and I was angry when they didn’t. (And this list could go on forever.)

In other words, I was angry about everything… and that went on for years.

Then one day, I remembered a phrase my mother used to say to us all the time while growing up, “If you are having problems with the rest of the world, maybe the rest of the world isn’t the problem.”

Sigh… The truth can be brutal sometimes, can’t it? I know things didn’t change right away, but this was my starting point toward healing.

First, I had to acknowledge the anger I was feeling… So, I sat with it for a while. I was journaling a lot back then… several times a day, actually. It was my safe space to release all the feelings – even the ridiculous ones that made no sense. Thankfully, I was able to go back and read the things I had written, and while the word “anger” wasn’t there, the tone, the words, and the handwriting left little room for doubt.

Once I could acknowledge that I was even feeling angry, then I had to reflect on if that anger was legitimately pointed in the right direction(s). It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that it wasn’t.

I wasn’t really angry at anyone. I was angry at the situation… But I couldn’t yell at a situation. I couldn’t slam the door on a situation… I couldn’t even talk to the situation and make it better. The only option available was to find a way to accept the situation… There would be no peace any other way.

That was a lot harder than I would have thought. I continued to fight it for years. (In fact, I think I still have days when I just can’t let myself think about it, because I get angry all over again.)

I guess the point I am trying to make is this… Until I acknowledged my anger, I was never going to get any better. Yet, that was just the beginning of the journey. I had to stop pointing that anger in all the wrong directions. Instead, whenever I felt the urge to respond in anger, I literally had to sit down and figure out what I was truly angry about. Then, I had to decide the best route to managing those emotions in that moment (because those moments are all different) … And finally, I had to forgive myself for all of it… For being angry… for being sad… for simply being human… and feeling lost.

I didn’t realize it at the time, but somewhere along the way, this grief journey became my healing journey. I don’t know if the healing will ever stop, because I don’t know that my love for Bruce will ever stop. However, I do know that my ability to accept all the parts of me (even the angry parts) has had the most impact on my healing and my growth towards wholeness.

“… our personal healing defines our ability to be sensitive in all situations. Once we heal our hurt and anger toward others, we must cross the bridge of forgiving ourselves as well.” ~ Jamie Sams, Earth Medicine
____________________________________________________
Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief
* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – My Other Half

The sun sets at the end of the day.
The sky is pink.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.

The full moon rises over the trees.
   It lights up the world.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.

The storm rolls in
With its dark clouds.
It puts on a show for the world.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.

The waves crash onto the beach.
There for a moment,
And then gone again.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.

All around me life goes on.
I see you in every flower
     And feel you in the stir of the wind.
Your soul reaches out to me
To remember…
Then, I do…
And I smile.
~ Linda, Oct 2013

When Bruce and I first moved out here to this little coastal town in Florida, it was to be by the ocean. From our first conversation, we had bonded over our love for the ocean – her beauty… her calm… her rage – all of the components that make her so intriguing. We were beyond excited to finally live so close to her.

Every weekend (weather permitting), you could find us either sitting beachside, boating or kayaking. Just a few hours by the water was our way of restoring our souls and getting grounded for the week ahead.

After he died, I still spent most weekends doing the same. Eventually, as life started changing, I found myself going out there less and less. After a couple of years, I gave the boat to my grandson. Then, several years later I gave the kayaks to one of my daughters. And while sitting by the beach was still on my list of “favorite things to do”, my weekends seemed to get fuller and fuller, until my beach time was nonexistent… And it probably sounds silly, but I could the loss of that precious time in my soul.

So, this year, I made up my mind to reclaim that time. If my soul was yearning for some time by the sea, then it was up to me to reclaim it… to make time for it… to just do it. Now I am out there several times a month, letting the gentle rhythm of the tide and the warmth of the sun do their magic.

It has been amazing! How in the world did I let this slip away for so long? I not only love being out there, but because Bruce’s ashes were scattered offshore, it feels a bit like I am also spending time with him… something I will never get tired of doing. Sometimes, when my eyes are closed and I am taking in the beach with my other senses, I can almost feel him next to me… and my soul comes alive. Sitting there, I am reminded of all the things that went into our relationship… all of the magic that comes when you find your ‘other half’.

In my readings this week, I came across a passage about finding our soul mates… our other half, and how hard finding that person can be. How true! It took Bruce and I over 40 years to find each other… Yet, once we did, neither of us had any doubts… We knew we belonged together.

“The mate that will walk with us through all of the up and down cycles of life and will be our trusted companion is often hard to find. My elders called this special person the other half, or the split apart.” ~ Jamie Sams, Earth Medicine

However, there was more… You see, “our song” was ‘God Bless the Broken Road’ by Rascal Flats. In the song, the lyrics say,
“That every long-lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart, they were like Northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you”
(Copyright 2005, Lyric Street Records, Inc)

Bruce always believed that. He never talked badly about his ex or past relationships. He was open and honest and candid about what happened, what went wrong, and what he owned in all of that. However, there was never any anger or bitterness. Just a recognition of “this is what happened” and “this is what I learned” which is “how I got here with you”.

I learned a LOT from that.

“Every relationship teaches us about ourselves if we have the courage to look within, to see how we can learn from others, and how we can heal the parts of our personalities that struggle against union or unity.” ~ Jamie Sams, Earth Medicine

While my previous marriage was a bit dark, following Bruce’s example through the years, I have learned to recognize the lessons I learned and the strength I gained. Even in more previous relationships, both good and difficult, I have learned to see the things I gained by knowing that person. (Let’s be honest, though. Sometimes, I need a little bit of time and distance to get there, but eventually I make it.)

Bruce never actually spelled it out, he just lived it, and I will always be thankful for this aspect of our relationship. Because of him… because of my ‘other half’, I have learned to appreciate all of the relationships in my life… all of the lessons learned… all of the smiles and all of the tears. Without every single one of them, I would still be the same person I used to be… rather than becoming the person I am meant to be.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief
* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.