Author: Linda

Hi! I am Linda. On January 12, 2013, my husband, Bruce passed away in the wee hours of the morning. It was completely unexpected and threw me into a complete tailspin. I wandered aimlessly for months until I met a fabulous Life Coach who turned my life around. On January 1, 2015, while visiting with long-ago friend, I decided that this year would be different. 2015 became my year of "Celebration, Creation and Contribution." On January 12, 2015 (exactly 2 years after losing my husband), I posted my first blog on this site. My purpose is to create a virtual loss/grief support group. If this site fills a need for you or someone you know, please join us and add your comments. Let's make this our community...

Peace, Love and Grief… Choosing Laughter

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…
I do…
And I smile.
~ Linda, October 2013

I remember when I went through my divorce years ago – things remained extremely tense for such a long time. At one point, my mom sent me a CD of a comedian along with a note telling me I “needed to laugh.” As I put the CD into the player of my car, I shook my head thinking, “She doesn’t get it. My life is falling apart… I don’t think I can laugh anymore.” But as is usually the case, I was wrong, and my mom was right. Within a few short minutes, I was laughing so hard, I could barely breathe! What a great release!

When Bruce passed away, I found myself thinking I would never laugh again… every bit of joy was gone from my life. Once again, someone wiser than me counseled me on the importance of finding some joy each day… Not just something to be grateful for (as I’ve discussed in the past), but something to make me smile… and, yes, maybe even laugh.

I will always remember the first time I laughed after Bruce passed away. We were telling “Bruce Stories,” and before I knew it, I found myself laughing at some of the best memories ever! However, as soon as I realized what I was doing, I stopped short. How could I laugh? My world had fallen apart! What in the world did I have to laugh about?

As time passed, I would find myself laughing at little things such as the sayings of my (then) toddler grandson or a joke on the radio. But each time, I would catch myself… and stop. Those same feelings of “what did I have to laugh about?” kept returning… And so many times, I let it steal my joy.

I’m not sure at what point or even who said it, but somewhere on this path, someone suggested that perhaps I needed to give myself permission to laugh. At about the same time, I started reading one of Bruce’s favorite, “go-to” books, The Importance of Living by Lin Yutang. Within the first few pages, he presents the idea that a sense of humor has the function of not letting us “bump our heads against the stone wall of reality.” In other words, to be wise we need to learn to combine our reality with our dreams and a sense of humor.

This opened a door for me… If this book was Bruce’s “go-to” and these were the ideas of the author… perhaps… just perhaps, Bruce, himself, was trying to tell me that I needed to laugh again. Perhaps by giving myself permission to laugh, I was also giving myself permission to heal.

And so I did…

It started slowly. I started retelling stories and sharing memories of Bruce and I that made me laugh. By starting here, I found that I could honor Bruce’s memory and find my healing through laughter all at the same time. I quickly found that other people who knew him, were more than willing to dive in and share their funny stories as well. In fact, not too long ago, one of Bruce’s high school buddies shared a story of their teenage shenanigans that still makes me laugh every time I read it.

What a blessing! I must say that in the past few years, I have learned to be so thankful for the healing gift of laughter and the balance that a sense of humor can bring to our lives each and every day… no matter what our current reality holds.

“If we don’t pause,
the hardships of the world will slowly de-sensitize us from the simple joys that life has to offer.
Stop and take a breath.
Enjoy the moment without needing the moment to be perfect.
Life is what happens between the cracks of perfection.”
~ Erik Wahl

What about you? Did you or have you ever struggled with the idea of laughing in the face of loss? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts? Please do… 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

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Peace, Love and Grief… A Bald Thought

Nope… That’s not a type. I meant to write “bald,” because that’s what’s happened in my world this week.

When I first learned I would need chemo after all, I also learned about many of the side effects my particular “cocktail” could create. People tried to be sweet by telling me stories of friends who never had any side effects… They never missed a day of work, never felt sick or never lost their hair.

It was kind, and their hearts were all in the right place. But there is a truth I learned when Bruce died – everyone’s experience is different… I could hope, but I couldn’t count on that being my experience. Plus, I had already been told my treatment (as described by my oncologist) was a medium aggressive treatment. She had told me I was not going to get through completely unscathed… In particular and without a doubt, the hair was going to go.

I was told to expect it to fall out within 14 – 21 days of the first treatment. So, I was ready… or so I thought. Originally, I took off 4 inches within days of learning about the chemo. Then, last week I cut it into a super short pixie… All to help my brain transition into the idea of being bald.

I knew it was coming. I know it would grow back. And I know it is just hair.

Just like with my grief, my rational side knew the facts. In preparation, I had switched to a gentler shampoo with extra conditioner. I had stopped using any heating tools. In other words, I was doing everything I knew to “baby” my hair in the hopes of it lasting as long as possible. However, in the end, I still knew the inevitable was going to happen.

What I came to realize, though, was that my emotional side wasn’t prepared. How could it be? The last time I had no hair was over 55 years ago, and I didn’t have any self-image issues at the time. In other words, I had no idea how exposed and vulnerable losing my hair was going to leave me feeling.

Up until Thursday (day 14, by the way), my hair seemed to be hanging in there. When I woke up on Thursday, there was nothing on my pillow… nothing to alert me for what happened next. As I brushed my hands through my hair, out came the first handful. My initial thought wasn’t “here it goes.” Nope, my first thought was “Hmmm, that’s really weird.”

Then, I did it again… and again… Each time my hand was filled with hair. I managed to fill up my (plugged) sink four times, before I accepted what I was seeing. Then, almost the same amount came out in the shower. I would like to say, I took a deep breath and just accepted what was, but that isn’t what happened. Instead, I cried… not hard or loud, just silent tears as I continued to dress for the day, as more and more hair fell onto the counter and the floor around me.

As the day progressed, it was hard to keep my hands away from my head. It didn’t hurt. My hair just seemed to be “abandoning ship” at a terrifying rate… And try as I might to remain logical, I learned there was more to it than “just hair.”

I found myself feeling quite powerless, which is a vulnerable feeling. I don’t know about you, but I like my lists, and I like checking things off my list. I like to plan, and I like to be prepared… In other words, I have a need to be in control… Not in control of everyone or everything – just in control of me and those things that are specific to me.

Thankfully, I know me… When I lose that control, I want to hide… That is my go-to behavior. I’m not saying it is the right behavior; I’m just saying it is how I tend to respond. When Bruce died, I made myself go to work after a couple of weeks, mainly because I was scared if I didn’t, I might never leave my house again. Granted, I mostly hid in my office. But, I still scheduled time each day to walk through the office and talk to people just to make myself get out there.

So, on Thursday, when the hair started falling out, I found myself wondering if it would be possible to just stay inside (and hide) for the next several months… I knew it was crazy to get so emotional over hair. I just never realized how attached I was to my hair… I never considered how often I “hide behind my hair and place so much of my own self-worth in this silly mop on my head.

I found myself wondering how Bruce would have reacted… There is a (big) part of me that believes if he were here, he would kiss my little, bald head and tell me how much he loves me. But on Thursday, there was another (very small) part of me that was glad he isn’t here to see me like this… I know that probably sounds weird… After all, I know he loved me, but that is how emotional this balding thing was.

By Thursday evening, though, I knew I needed to do something to pull myself out of the funk I was falling into. I needed to feel like I still had a little bit of power in this whole, crazy thing. That is when I decided to go ahead and shave it off – no more handfuls of hair… no more waiting… and mostly, no more crying.

So that is exactly what I did. On Friday, with my daughter and grandson beside me for support, I went ahead and had my hair dresser buzz it. (So, no… I’m still not squeaky-clean bald, and the tiny little hairs are still falling out each time I rub my head.)

But, the deed is done! So far, using scarves or the wig I bought weeks ago, I have been out to eat, shopping and to church. In other words – I am not hiding. I am fine. On this side of the experience, I keep thinking it’s so crazy how much power I gave my hair in my own self-esteem. After all, I’m still me! I don’t feel or think any different. Well… except when I look in the mirror. Because it takes a while to register that it is me in the reflection, I end up giggling every time.

This current twist on my journey is taking quite a bit of adjustment. But what I’m finding is the lessons I have learned in my grief for Bruce are giving me the strength to see this through. I can do this… and not only will I be okay… I believe I will be stronger for it in the end!

Everyone deals with loss, grief and the hurdles of life in their own way. How we handle the pain and deal with the challenges on our journey is different for each of us. As for me, I still stumble, but I keep getting back up and trying again… I am still learning. So, I guess I will just keep praying for the peace and strength to make through each day.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share your story with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

If you are struggling with grief, loss, loneliness, please know you are not alone – We are here. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Thoughts for Today

There have been so many lessons learned on this crazy journey. There have been so many things I was sure of in the beginning, only to realize later how very wrong I was. (Then, again, isn’t that life?)

Five years ago, I was hurting so badly I processed everything through the lense of hurt. I couldn’t understand or make sense of most of the world around me… But I believe that is the way of grief… The pain is so intense, and the ability to process anything outside that pain is close to impossible.

As the years have passed, I have learned to look at things again… Only now, I try to remind myself to pull outside of the hurt, and to process the world around me with love and compassion… The same love and compassion the world has shown me, (even when I didn’t recognize it).

One of the biggest things I have realized is how all loss produces a lot of the same feelings, whether it is the loss of a loved one, a friendship, a job, or my health… Each loss involves grief in a way, and once we recognize that, I believe we are better able to deal with it.

This week has been one of those weeks. It has been my first week after my first chemo treatment…

First of all, my first treatment was on Friday the 13th, and my last treatment will be on 9/11. Now, that is either the start of a suspense novel or some really, creepy foreshadowing! (I’ve had to talk myself out of being a little freaked out about this one a few times.) Seriously, though, this whole cancer thing has brought back a lot of the same emotions (albeit on a smaller scale), which I dealt with years ago when Bruce died.

One of the biggest emotions I dealt with this week was my inclination to push people away. Why do I do that?? I need the support… and I know the people around me love me.

However, here is my honest confession…

When Bruce died, people didn’t always respond the way I expected, and in my pain, I took it personally. One of the biggest mistakes I made was thinking people knew what I needed. They didn’t, of course! How could they?? But there was enough information out there saying, “Don’t ask the person grieving to ask for help – just do it.” Never mind that the people around me weren’t reading this – I was. Yet somehow, I held them accountable… It all sounds so ridiculous now, and thankfully, the people around me loved me through this in spite of myself.

So, this week, when I found myself at the mercy of the toxins floating around in my body, I have also found myself in need of help. That is a hard one for me… I don’t mind helping others but asking for help is another story.

I can’t even begin to tell you the number of people who have said, “Let me know if you need anything… Anything at all. I am here for you.” And even though they mean, do you think I have asked? Rarely… So then, I had to ask myself why…

At first, I found myself back in the same old mindset of “I can’t ask you; just do it.” Then, I came to my senses and fussed at myself for being so unfair… They do care… They mean it… I can’t put my issues at their feet; I have to own those myself.

So, what is the issue?? I don’t know. I haven’t figured that part out. Even when the people around me are helping, I feel so overwhelmed with guilt. I hate the idea that my health issues have placed an extra burden on someone else. Yet, they keep telling me it is okay… They don’t mind… That is love… That is something I haven’t minded giving to others, but to accept it from someone involves trust…

Maybe that is my issue. Maybe I am scared to love and trust… and possibly be hurt again…

Since I am crying as I write this, I am guessing that is my answer… My own fears of feeling all that pain again is what has created this. And maybe that is why I find myself in a place where I have to ask for help… They say there are some life lessons you are destined to encounter over and over until you actually learn it…

Maybe this is mine… Learning to trust life enough to accept the love around me… So, to all those who are by my side through this – Thank you… And I love you!

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. How we handle the pain and deal with he challenges in our journey is different for each of us. As for me, I am still learning, and all I can do is pray for the peace and strength to make through each day.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share your story with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

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

Peace, Love and Grief… The Way Things Are

This week I read a story about a man named Jim Thorpe. He was a Native American from Oklahoma who competed in the 1912 Olympics. He represented the U.S. in track and field events. On the morning of his competition, he found his shoes had been stolen. He managed to find two mismatched shoes in the garbage can, but because one was too big, he had to wear extra socks on that foot. Despite the circumstances, he went on to win two gold medals that day… two!

Now that’s an amazing story! As I have pondered it this week, it has hit me two different ways…

First, it was a stark reminder that Bruce has left me in a world where people still mistreat each other and justify it to themselves because of their own fears about race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, and the list goes on and on. I see it everywhere… I see it on Face Book, Twitter, our neighborhood website, the news, and radio talk show hosts.

When Bruce was here, it wasn’t as prevalent on the internet, (or maybe we just weren’t on there enough to notice). But we still saw it on the news or heard it on the radio, and he would shake his head and wonder out loud where all this was heading… I guess, now we know.

I have to be honest… For me, it hurts when the people I care about post things that basically say, “Think like me or you are stupid.” Seriously?? I don’t think like everyone I know. (Who does?) These are things that most of these people would never say to my face. So why is it okay to post it on the internet? When did we stop respecting each other’s differences? When did we lose the idea that all of these different opinions are what actually make us stronger? Because when we actually co-operate and collaborate to reach a solution, we find ways to respect everyone in the picture… That is my hope.

So many times in my journal, I have asked Bruce how I am supposed to deal with all of this. And why did he leave me to deal with it alone? At times like that, this world feels like a scary place, and I wish he were still here by my side… holding me tight, and reminding me to see the good, when I really just want to hide.

The second way this story hit me was in being a widow…

When Bruce died so suddenly, it was like waking up to find my shoes stolen. I needed Bruce just as Jim Thorpe needed his shoes. Instead, I have had to find other ways to get through life. I am sure there are many times when I look like I have on mismatched shoes… And at times, they definitely feel like they are way too big. But then I look at where I was and where I am now, and I realize… I am doing it. I am still running the race, and I believe I am doing a pretty good job.

In fact, while this blog has become my safe space to talk candidly about “my stolen shoes” and what it feels like to “run in shoes that don’t feel like mine and are way too big,” if you know me personally, you also know I don’t dwell on my grief in public. (Or at least, I haven’t done so in years.) In fact, I won’t mention it or talk about it unless I am asked directly. It is one of those things I have learned to keep to myself…

Instead, I have chosen to keep running… sometimes I trip and fall, but each time, I get back up and keep going… There was a time, when I wasn’t sure I could go on… but I have. There are still days when I feel lost and alone… but then someone reaches out, helps me up, and I realize I’m okay.

Jim Thorpe’s race wasn’t over, and mine isn’t either… I can do this… I know I can… I still have some “gold to win” in this life!

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. We all find answers and comfort in various sources… That is what makes us all unique and different. It is funny how a story which took place over a century ago can still touch my heart and remind me that I’m doing okay. I know all I can do is pray for peace and the strength to make it through each day… one at a time.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share your story with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Night Time

I wake up, and I reach for you,
But you aren’t there.
I long to feel your warm body next to mine.
In my sleep, I try to snuggle closer,
But there is only empty space.
Each time, I am pulled out of my dreams.
Then, I am awake with nothing but the realization that you are gone.
How long will this go on?
Will my subconscious mind ever be content to sleep alone?
Will my heart always reach for you in the dark?
… Probably.
~ Linda, July 2018

Days are hard. That’s probably why most of my writings are about my daytime thoughts and experiences. For the first few years after Bruce died, my days were filled with tears. There were constant reminders that he was gone. There were constant struggles with the loneliness and feelings of abandonment. But the nights… (sigh)… I must say, the nights have always been the hardest… even now.

Since Bruce passed away, sleep is something I struggle with night after night. I stay tired all the time, yet insomnia has found a home in my bed, and I am at a loss. For the first few years, I woke up every night at the exact same time he died… 1:15 am. It seemed to be the “magic hour” to relive those horrific memories. Night after night, I would lay in the dark and cry… for hours.

Over time, I have stopped waking at that exact time. In fact, in the last year or so, I have even managed to sleep all the way through some nights. But most nights, I still find myself reaching out for him in the dark… And when he isn’t there, I am awake… again.

It’s funny what our minds will do… or won’t do… or maybe can’t do… I’m not sure which it is.

During the day, when my mind starts to dwell too long on Bruce’s death and my current situation, I can force myself to think of other things. I can recall quotes and verses to give me strength through the hardest moments. As long as I am aware and catch my thought process soon enough, I know I can turn it around before I spiral down too far. It has taken years to learn how to do this, but I have gotten better and better at this as time passes.

But night times… that is a very different story. Sleep is supposed to be the time to let go of your thoughts and rest. If I were to try to remain in control of my thoughts, then I would be awake. So, this is a battle I have not yet won. I have tried so many things to help me sleep – teas, over the counter meds, oils, night time yoga, meditation, relaxation mind exercises, lavender everything… You name it, I’ve tried it.

But the truth is this… My heart is still connected to his… And when my mind is left to its own devices, it will always reach out for him…

And, honestly, I don’t see a time where that will ever change.

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. We all find answers and comfort in various sources… That is what makes us all unique and different. For me, nights continue to be a time of struggle and longing. I cannot begin to explain the way my heart breaks each time I reach for Bruce in the dark and come up empty. It is like trying to control something that cannot be controlled… Instead, all I can do is pray for peace and the strength to make it through another night… alone.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share your story with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Two Lives; Two Responses

Last week I wrote about walking through the valley. This year has held some true struggles for our family which have taken our breath away… But through it all, I have held this Psalm to my heart… It has carried me through and given me the strength to stand.

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside the still waters, He restores my soul.
He leads me in the path of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:
for He is with me; His rod and His staff, they comfort me.
He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
He anoints my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life:
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
~ Psalm 23

Sadly, I learned last weekend that a friend (and former co-worker) had died unexpectedly. Her death was so sudden and really took me (and many others) by surprise. When I first heard, I thought it must have been an accident or a sudden illness, but no one was really saying anything.

However, by mid-week I had learned the truth…

From where most of us sat, she seemed happy… She was married to her soulmate and had 2 beautiful children. Her life was centered around her family and friends… But we weren’t seeing the whole picture. While she was smiling and giving her heart to everyone around her, on the inside, she was struggling with her own demons. I can’t even imagine the pain she must have felt and struggled with to make the choice she made.

Wow! The news blew me away! It took me more than a day before I could even talk about it. This is the third friend and/or co-worker to commit suicide in the same number of years. In many ways, I feel like I have let each one down. How could I not have known? What clues did I miss? Was I too caught up in myself to hear or notice something was amiss?

After all, here I am fighting for my life, and there was my friend feeling as if she had no choice but to give up… Please understand – I am not judging her or her choice. My heart is breaking for her… My mind is struggling to understand how two friends can have such different responses to life, and not even be aware of what the other one is dealing with.

It goes to show, you never know what someone else is going through… They may be smiling, but that smile may not be real.

It all just seems like such a nightmare. My heart is broken for her… for her husband… and for her kids. I can’t even imagine they are dealing with this, because the whole thing is beyond understanding… I just can’t imagine…

We all have our down days… I know I’ve had mine. When Bruce died I felt so alone and abandoned – I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it without him by my side. Yet, even on my darkest days, I was always able to remember the hope found in the people who love me… It seems so sad that she couldn’t see that… To feel there is no more hope… not even a glimpse.

My prayer?

I pray she has found the peace she was seeking… That she is safely in the arms of a loving and merciful God who understands and takes away her pain.

I also pray that God will open my eyes to the people around me… that I will be generous and loving to those around me… That I will not be so caught up in my own journey through the valley that I miss someone else traveling there as well.

What is Suicide?
Is it the sudden taking of one’s own life? Is it that simple?
Is it the slow denial that something is wrong?
Is it depression so deep that your soul seems to be gone?
Is the real death emotional, and the physical act is just the punctuation?
Is it a rejection of one’s circumstances?
Or is it the result of being rejected by those circumstances?
Is it an ending or a fresh start someplace better?
Is it a choice or does one feel that there is no choice?
Is it a selfish act or a desperate attempt to escape one’s demons?
I do not know the answer…
But I understand the feelings…
While we are not responsible FOR those around us.
We do have a responsibility TO those around us.
We can reach out, hold a hand, or give a hug.
We can listen…
We can be a friend.
What is suicide? It is a cry in the darkness…
~ Linda, Sept 2013;
Written in response to a friend who couldn’t escape the darkness…
May God rest her soul and give her the peace she was seeking.

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. We all find answers and comfort in various sources. That is what makes us all unique and different. This week has been a struggle to understand something that cannot be understood… Instead, all I have to offer are my prayers and love to those around me… And the hope that we can all be a source of strength for each other as we go through the storms in life.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share it with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Walking Through the Valley

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside the still waters,
He restores my soul.
He leads me in the path of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for He is with me; His rod and His staff, they comfort me.
He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies; He anoints my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
~ Psalm 23

I can remember being in the third grade and memorizing this passage. I can’t say I thought too much about it… I certainly didn’t understand it. In my little 8-year-old head, I pictured all these things as concrete actions… like something in a fairy tale – nice to think about, but not anything that was going to happen in 1971. It was an assignment, and I did it.

I also remember our teacher, Mrs. Ezell, instructing us on the importance of memorizing scripture. “There may come a day when you do not have a Bible readily available. You never know what you will have to go through as you get older. Having these verses in your mind will allow you to recall them as you need them.” (I must also admit; the importance of that statement didn’t sink in until my adult years.)

Throughout so many events in my adult life, however, I have clung to this passage and the promises it holds… Promises of a God who loves me enough to provide and care for me even when I can’t (or won’t) do it for myself.

When I finally made the decision to leave the chaos and violence of my first marriage, it was tough. After I left, it still took three years to get a divorce due to the games and nonsense, my ex-spouse decided to pull. During that time, it seemed as if we, (my kids and I), were under constant attack. This created high anxiety and required constant vigilance on all our parts.

However, I found when I called on the promises in this verse, my anxiety level went down… Knowing God had my back made all the difference in the world. Was it still hard? Yes. Were we still vigilant? Yes. It was the worry and anxiety that was relieved… And that gave us back the ability to think clearly as we moved on with our lives.

Years later, when Bruce died, I was in such shock and pain, I couldn’t think at all. Even this passage which had carried me through before did not come to mind. When people suggested I read the Psalms for comfort, I would flip through the pages, but I found nothing there.

I was too lost in my loneliness to find comfort anywhere…

Plus, I was so angry with God in the beginning… How could I trust Him? How could I believe He had my best interest at heart? I didn’t – It was that simple.

It was at least a year, before I could start to open my heart up again. It started off slow… small steps. It started with music, then small snippets of verses. Over time, I found myself crawling out of the darkness on my hands and knees, and looking for the God who said he loved me… The God who said he would never abandon me…

Once again, this passage became my mantra. I was definitely passing through “the valley of the shadow of death,” but learning to “fear no evil” was a hard one. Instead, I had to focus on “lying beside still waters,” as I waited for God to “restore my soul.”

It has taken a long time, and I still have days where I struggle. (Don’t we all?) But in my heart, I have come to trust that God is beside me – still loving me and caring for me… Because when I am grieving, I can not do these things for myself… It is too hard. I can’t do it alone, but I can do it with God. I don’t believe that means I’m not supposed to cry or feel sad – not at all. For me, it means God is there beside me… I simply have to make the choice to look for him.

Look up, my child.
I am here…
Don’t look down,
I am not there.
Keep your eyes on me.
Don’t let the clouds block your view.
Look beyond them…
The blue sky is always there,
Even behind the clouds.
Stop focusing on the clouds.
Focus on the sky…
Focus on Me.
Keep Me in your view.
I am here guiding you…
Loving you… always.
~ Linda, September 2015

They say there are certain lessons in life we have to learn. If we don’t learn them the first time, we are destined to go through similar circumstances over and over until we do. For me, I have come to believe that lesson is learning to trust God. That is a hard one for me. I know he has seen me through every time, and yet, I struggle.

These past two weeks, our family experienced a crisis which broke my heart and required me to trust God. Honestly, I didn’t want to… I wanted to fix it… Or I wanted someone to fix it. In a practical world, what was God going to do?… Really?

Then this passage started popping up everywhere. It seemed I couldn’t get parts of it out of my head…

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for He is with me; His rod and His staff, they comfort me. He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”

We were walking through the valley… Would God really show the opposing side that He had our backs on this? I struggled to trust, yet I knew I had no other choice. Then in my evening devotions, I read something that clicked for me… “Keep speaking God’s word over your problem.”

The next morning as I stepped into the shower, my brain started to do it’s worry thing… I started thinking of all the things that might go wrong… How could we deal with any of it? Until I remembered that advice… “Speak God’s word over my problem,” and so I did…

For the next few days, I prayed the same prayer over and over and over… “God you know what this is… It is in your hands… We are walking in the valley, and I am calling on you to ‘prepare that table.’ Please show me, my trust in you is good and right… I know this is my lesson, and I also know this is my struggle… Help me to trust you…”

I will tell you things could not have turned out better. God saw us through… There is still a battle down the road, but the crisis is over. As for me, I learned (again) that when I choose to focus on God instead of focusing on my problems, miracles happen…

Then, I am able to “lie in green pastures” and “beside still waters” … And my soul is restored…

Everyone deals with loss, grief and LIFE in their own way. We all find answers and comfort in various sources. That is what makes us all unique and different. Admittedly, I usually steer away from religion when I write. I don’t want anyone to think I am trying to preach… That is not my goal here. My only goal today has been to share a poem which has helped me on numerous occasions. It is a source of strength for me.

Do you have something that provides that sense of calmness in the storm? If so, would you share it with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

If you are struggling with grief, loss, or loneliness, please know you are not alone – We are here. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… A Tribute to a Father

His Love
A love that is pure
A love that sees who you can be,
Not who you are in that moment.
A love with no strings attached;
No conditions, no rules…
Just a love that is,
From a man who embodied love…
pure, complete love.
~ Linda, November 24, 2013

Father’s Day… hmmm – Interesting day. Today’s blog is not really about grief. Instead it is filled with memories… it is a tribute to the man who became the father of my children. I am not talking about genetics or biology. I am talking about the man who loved my kids unconditionally – no judgement, no preconceived ideas or expectations – nothing but love. I am referring to Bruce… the man who came into our lives for such a short time and changed everything we thought we knew about families and fathers.

However, to understand his impact, let me back up and explain a little bit here…
When I left my children’s biological father, my intent was to get my children out of a dysfunctional and unsafe home. I just wanted to see them safe and protected. The court psychologist agreed and recommended no visitation for my ex-husband – not even supervised visitation. His recommendation was no parental rights (period).

When it came down to the final paperwork, according to my attorney, my ex-husband responded he would not fight the psychologist’s recommendation if I would agree to give him over 2/3 of the money (instead of the 50-50 set by state law) … I agreed. Essentially, I bought my children… I paid for their safety and a life of peace. I’ve never regretted that choice… It was the best deal I ever made.

After the divorce, I wasn’t looking for anyone or any type of relationship. However, when I met Bruce, there was an instant connection, and we were married ten months later. However, because we had lived a thousand miles apart, my kids hadn’t had a lot of time to get to know him very well. They had met him and knew who he was, but they didn’t really know him… not yet.

I wanted things to work for our new family, so I started researching and reading everything I could find on step-parenting and blended families. Everything I read said it would take at least two years for our family to develop the relationships and new roles within our new family… and that was if things went well.

Bruce, on the other hand, had watched his own daughter struggle for years in a step-family relationship. He had his own concept of how he wanted to do this and (as far as I know) never read a single thing about step-families. He knew exactly what to do, and he did it consistently. Within 6 months, our family was a solid unit with my kids referring to Bruce as their father… In other words – he was amazing!

When I had moved to Michigan to marry Bruce, my youngest daughter was the only one to come with me. My oldest daughter had already graduated college and was living on her own. My second daughter was away at college. And my son was in the middle of his senior year, already 18 and did not want to move… To say my youngest daughter was angry about the whole situation would be an understatement.

The night we arrived in Michigan, Bruce was so excited we were there. He greeted the two of us with smiles and hugs. My daughter pushed him aside, went straight to her new room, shut the door and remained there. I apologized to Bruce, but he only smiled and gave the same response I would hear for the next few months, “There is nothing to apologize for… she is angry. I can understand that, and my shoulders are big enough to take it.”

Much later I learned he had left her a note on her bed that night saying just about the same thing. He told her that he was not trying to replace anyone or be her Dad. But he was here, and he would always be here… for her… no matter what.
When she tells this story, she will tell you that she tore that note up immediately. She will also tell you that she put his words to the test… and she did. She tried everything to make him not like her… much less love her. But he was true to his word… he never wavered, no matter what she tried. The amazing part? Within 6 months, on our first Father’s Day together, she baked him cookies and for the first time, called him her Dad.

That was who this man was… a big, gentle giant of a man with a heart that would not quit. Over the short time we were together, he built positive relationships with each of my kids. With my oldest (who was already a young adult), it was a peaceful, friendly relationship. I remember on one visit she introduced us to her neighbor as her mom and dad. The neighbor said, “Wow, you look just like your dad.” She didn’t try to correct him or explain. Instead, she and Bruce just smiled like Cheshire cats and hugged each other tight.

My second daughter and Bruce were tight from the very first time they met, which was actually before we married. She had picked him up at the airport for me and driven him the two hours to our town. During that drive, she told him that she was glad to see her mom so happy, and she really liked him. Then, she went on to tell him that if he ever broke my heart or hurt me, she would “open a can of ‘whoop-a$$’ on him.” He used to laugh when he told that story, because she isn’t much taller than me and just as petite. He absolutely loved her fire and energy for life, and they were best buds from that day forward.

When her son was born, he also instantly bonded with his “Papa.” They would play and “hang out” for hours. In Bruce’s eyes, that boy could do no wrong. To this day, my grandson still talks about his Papa… He tells me all the time Papa is his guardian angel. The bond between those two is so strong it even seems to transcend this life.

My son was with me on the cruise when Bruce and I actually met. He was the world’s best chaperone on that trip. At one point when he saw Bruce holding my hand, he cracked me up by commenting, “A little cheeky, don’t you think?” Cheeky?? What 17-year-old says, “cheeky?”

Within no time though, my son let his guard down and stopped trying to “protect” his mom. It didn’t take long for the two of them to build a solid relationship. This relationship was such a blessing for my son. For the first time, he had the experience of a healthy, male role model and friend… a man to show him “how to be a man”… a man to show him how to treat a woman… all things I could never do as his mother.

From the beginning, Bruce was willing to do whatever was needed to move our family forward… anything from teaching teenagers to drive and helping with homework to offering unconditional love and acceptance as they tried to figure out how they each fit into this world. It was an amazing experience! How could a woman not love a man who loves her children so completely? And what did we give to Bruce in return? A family… a big family… and all the love and craziness that comes with that. : )

That was my husband… That was the man who became my children’s father… That was the man we lost and grieve and still miss. So as another Father’s Day comes and goes, I will tell you what I have told Bruce every year…

“Thank you, Babe, for being a Dad to my kids… being a Dad is so much more than biology… It is a life-long commitment. Thank you for stepping into their lives and showing them what a healthy man and a healthy marriage looks like. Thank you for loving us all unconditionally – no judgement, no preconceived expectations – nothing but love. You were the missing piece in our family. In our short time together, you taught us so much and brought healing where we did not think it was possible. You forever changed our lives. I have told you every day and I will say it again, ‘You are my hero and I will love you forever!‘”

Holidays are hard when someone we love is gone. Perhaps you have a memory or story of your loved one that you would like to share with our community. Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving a note.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Purpose

Purpose… That is word we hear a lot these days, (or at least I do). Over the last few years, I have listened to speakers and read multiple articles and books about “finding our purpose” – our reason for “being.” This is supposed to be the thing that motivates us to get out of bed in the morning and look forward to the day with “joyful anticipation.”

When Bruce died, all I could think was, “That‘s what I need… a purpose.” After all, I wanted a reason to get out of the bed… I wanted to look forward to each day with joyful anticipation. So, that became my goal… Find a purpose; feel better about life; grieve less.

But that, in and of itself, became a journey…

At first, I found myself making the same mistake, I think a lot of people make. I found myself associating “purpose” with “career.” I loved my job, and I enjoyed the people I worked with, but was that really my purpose? To be a corporate trainer? To teach people how to do their jobs? Was that it?

It couldn’t be… Since Bruce died, despite loving my job, I did not look forward to anything. I definitely did not look forward to each day at all. In fact, if I am honest, I did not want to be here at all… While suicide was not on my list, I prayed for God to just “take me” … “Let me go” … Something – anything – to not let me hurt like this anymore! Each day just seemed like a repeat of the day before… and the day before that… Life was an endless stream of grief and hopelessness… void of color.

But I knew I needed to find a way out… I needed a “purpose.” So, I kept looking…

Luckily for me, I was blessed to connect with a Coach, whom I credit with asking the right questions (and who never accepted “pat” answers), so I could figure this out. In all honesty, we talked about Bruce, but we never really discussed my grief. Nope… instead we talked about “purpose.”

I don’t remember specific conversations or the things I read which steered me towards the answer, but I do remember sitting at my desk at 3 am one morning and thinking, “When Bruce was alive, I felt like I had purpose… I had a reason to get out of bed… I looked forward to each day. Why? What was in my life then, that I am missing now?”

Well, the obvious answer was “Bruce.” But there had to be more, because I felt that like I had purpose before I ever met Bruce. What was it? Then, it dawned on me… It was love.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not talking about romantic love. (While I miss that about our relationship, that’s not what I mean.) I am talking about loving others… caring about them… and showing it. Even if it was just a smile or a hug, it was about recognizing and acknowledging the humanity in others.

That had always been a part of who I was… And who I am. When I taught school, I loved my students. When I started in the corporate world, I loved the people I worked with. I loved going to work, and I loved coming home.

But now somehow, I had lost that… But why? Part of it was the huge vacuum created when Bruce passed… Home became a lonely place, and work became a place to avoid being at home. But another part was the loss of trust with so many people around me… Not everyone, but enough to make me wary.

There were people I thought were friends, who distanced themselves. There were people I thought were friends who were suddenly interested sexually (not romantically), despite being in relationships themselves. There were some who made comments about “getting over it and moving on.” There were charities calling to say, “Your husband would have wanted you to help us.” Or businesses calling to say, “We would like to buy your house ‘to help you.’” Or neighbors saying, “Hey, we’ll take Bruce’s (boat, fishing gear, kayak, etc.) off your hands, if you would like.”

I was left feeling hurt, disgusted, judged and manipulated… In other words, it was my own trust in the world around me that had changed. I lost my balance when I lost Bruce, and now, I found myself trying to navigate a world where I had no idea who I could trust.

So, this is my struggle… even now. I still feel that loving others and showing people I care is my purpose, no matter what my occupation is at any given moment. But, how do I do that in a world where I struggle with trust.

I will say most days, I do okay… pretty good actually. I love doing things for other people. I love seeing them smile. I love knowing that it doesn’t take much to turn someone else’s day around.

My struggle tends to be letting people get too close emotionally. It scares me… I find myself backing up, shutting down… closing myself off for a while. It’s not good, and I know that if you truly love and care for others, it has to be a two-way street. At some point, I have to learn to trust enough to let others in.

Maybe that is part of my lesson with this cancer thing… I started off trying to do this alone. I didn’t tell anyone until I had gone through all the testing and had an actual diagnosis. At that point, I knew I couldn’t do it alone.

However, asking for help… asking people to go with me to appointments or help me with tasks which I am (temporarily) unable to do on my own is hard. Shoot – even when people ask how I’m doing, I usually just say, “Better every day” simply because I don’t want to bother anyone.

Learning to trust again… Learning to ask for help is humbling… and hard. However, I think in the long run (if I don’t give up on myself), I can do it… And maybe, just maybe, that will be what I need to feel my purpose once again…

“Your call to purpose isn’t necessarily about performing a specific task or being in a certain occupation. It’s about sharing yourself in a creative, loving way using the skills and interests that are inherently part of you.” ~ Dr. Wayne Dyer, The Power of Intention

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. Sometimes new trauma is that much harder to handle simply because they aren’t beside us… It can feel lonely and overwhelming. Being forced to learn how to trust again can add to that struggle. That is how I have felt since being diagnosed with cancer. It’s one of those things I’d rather not face, but sometimes life doesn’t give us a choice. I just need to remember – I am not alone… and neither are you.

Maybe something in this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have experienced something similar. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Grateful?

“There is a great richness in your daily life, just as it is, waiting for you to celebrate it… Give yourself a reminder to be thankful. Create a sign that reads, ‘I am grateful for this moment.” ~ Miriam Hathaway, Simply Grateful: A Journal to Reflect on the Good Things in Life

Over the past month or so, I have shared my latest twist in this life journey – my breast cancer diagnosis. It came as quite a shock since the only risk factor I have is the fact that I am female. So, I guess, I should also admit, it made me angry. For most of my life, I have taken care of myself – exercised, eaten right, didn’t over-indulge. The idea (okay, reality) that I have breast cancer seemed so wrong! And to have to do it without Bruce here – to feel like I was facing it alone – just seemed even worse.

I kept reading all these articles and blogs about people who learned some “great spiritual truth” because of their bout with cancer. When I confided my fear with someone else who had gone through cancer alone, they told me they had nothing but “good days and better days” throughout their journey. (Seriously??) Then, to top it off, I was constantly being told, “You will be fine… Just stay positive.”

I know it is good to be positive. I know my own thoughts create my experience. I know how to “fake it till I make it.” But to be honest… I also need to be able to feel all my feelings… And not all of my feelings are positive ones… That is my truth.

So, I was mad about the diagnosis, scared about the treatment, struggling to find a doctor I trusted and terrified to do this without Bruce. I (finally) found a cancer center with fabulous care. But, I had no choice about the rest – I just had to keep moving forward.

About a week before my surgery, I received a package from my team at work. We are scattered all over the U.S., so it took a lot of coordination, determination, and caring for them to get this together. It was a “care bag” for me to take to my treatments. It included all kinds of things, such as a blanket, coloring book, lotion, lip balm, etc… But the thing that terrified me was a journal.

I know… That’s kind of weird because I have been journaling since Bruce died. I love doing it! Journaling has been some of the best healing therapy I have experienced (and it’s free). But this particular journal was entitled, “Simply Grateful: A Journal to Reflect on the Good Things in Life.”

Hmmm… grateful? Can’t say I was feeling any of that!

So, when I packed up to leave for my surgery, I took my care bag without the journal. Then… at the last minute, I threw it back in. Who knew? Maybe all these positive life lessons would “hit me,” and I’d be ready to write.

Let me just say… That didn’t happen either.

Instead, I returned home after a couple of days, feeling tired, in pain and frustrated with how everything looked… In my journal, I wrote:

“Hi Babe! I did it! I was terrified, but I did it. The pain isn’t too bad, I guess (still taking pain meds though)… I don’t know what I expected, but I’m exhausted. It hurts when I touch it or move around too much, but I can handle that part. The hard part is how it looks. (I know, I’m being vain.) But I don’t think I would even want you to see this… I can’t even stand to look at myself. I know I need to give it time – time to heal – but I HATE it! I hate the way it looks. I know it could be worse, but that doesn’t make this good…. But, I guess, this is my body… It is what it is… I can’t change it, and I can’t fix it… For the first time since you died, I’m glad you’re not here – not here to see this… to see me.”

Nope… Grateful was not what I was feeling.

However, within a few days, as the entirety of what has happened, and the outcome of the surgery began to dawn on me, I realized I needed to pull myself out of this… But how? Then, I remembered… I went to my bag and dug deep… There it was – tucked in the bottom – that “crazy” Simply Grateful journal.

I opened it up and on the first journaling page it read, “Today, I am grateful for….” Followed by three blank pages. Then, one line, “’You are only one thought away from a good feeling.’ ~ Sheila Krystal” So, I started writing – listing each thing I could think of to be grateful for. Before I knew it, I had managed to fill a whole page. Three days later, I came back and filled another one. And a few more days after that, I filled the third.

There were things to be grateful for… I just had to look around… look up… I had to make myself stop looking at all that was wrong and start looking at all that was right. I won’t say it is easy… At least, it hasn’t been for me. I’m still a bit pissed about this whole thing… And it still hurts… And I’m still tired and bruised and swollen… and (I must remind myself) healing. Then, I also remind myself, there are a lot of women who haven’t gotten this far… I am one of the really lucky ones.

So far, this is where I am: I haven’t learned any great, spiritual truths… Nor am I positive all the time. I’m just me… feeling what I feel and working to remain grateful for what is…

Friday:
“Hi Babe! Doing a little better each day… It is not healing as quickly as I anticipated – still sore, bruised and tired. I cry for you (a lot)… I still miss you so much… This breast cancer thing is hard and scary without you. Sorry, I’m trying so hard to stay up… Stay positive… but some days are harder than others. So, I’m working on being grateful for what is… Grateful for each moment… Because, after all, that’s all we’ve really got.”

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. Sometimes new trauma is that much harder to handle simply because they aren’t beside us… It can feel lonely and overwhelming. That is how I have felt since being diagnosed with cancer. I know my thoughts create my experience, so I am working to keep those positive. But then again, life isn’t just positive stuff… Sometimes it is made up of stuff we would rather not face – losing Bruce, this cancer thing… I just need to remember – I am not alone… and neither are you.

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