Uncategorized – Page 26 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Looking for the Blessings

“As I lie here thinking of you, I realize I have been blessed to have had a husband whose only expectation was for me to love him…
And whose only goal was to show me how much he loved me.”

~ Linda, July 2014

Maybe it is just me, but I have found that one of the hardest parts of being a widow is remembering to focus on the blessings. In the beginning, all I could think about was “what was no longer.” It was such a struggle that my life coach at the time had me start making a daily list of things to be thankful for. At first, I had to make myself think hard to come up with even two or three things. However, before long I was able to find multiple blessings… It was a great way to start turning my thought process around.

I think the second hardest thing has been the expectation (or my supposed expectation) from others to “control” my emotions. Don’t get me wrong, I understand I can’t live my life crying from grief and wallowing in self-pity. Yet at the same time, I often find myself shoving my real feelings down deep inside. Then to try to counter or ignore those feelings, I find myself either being way too bubbly or very quiet… Either way, it just feels awkward. It isn’t real, and it isn’t the real “me” at that moment.

I started a journal soon after Bruce died, and it has been a great outlet for those feelings. Over time, that journal seemed to morph into this blog, which has also been a great outlet for those feelings. There are so many things I will write here that I don’t talk about otherwise. Weird, huh? But, this space seems to be safe… A space where others understand what I am talking about because they are on that same journey.

Writing has given me an outlet for a lot of emotions and thoughts that I am not comfortable sharing… many of them have been so intense, they almost scare me. Yet, all of this writing has helped me release those emotions… I can leave them right there on the page and walk away. It has become such a vital part of this journey that I look forward to “my writing time” and the healing I feel after.

This week was no different. This week, after less than a year, that “C” word has been re-introduced into my world. This time it came as, “The biopsy came back, and it is melanoma.” WHAT?? At first, my mind went blank and tears started to form. What the h***?? How can this be happening again?

Truthfully, it is early, and the prognosis couldn’t be better. (Unless it wasn’t cancer at all.) They just need to go back for clear margins, and if that is do-able, all is well. Still… even that knowledge didn’t make the first couple of days any easier.

Honestly, I know I am blessed, I know it… but I’m still frustrated. Once again, I would give anything for Bruce to be here. Doing this kind of stuff without him feels way more daunting. I wish he were here to hold me and just let me be mad for a little while… to just let me cry for a long while… to just hold me… to just tell me we will get through this together, and it’s all going to be just fine.

… But that can’t be… that can never be… and that makes me mad, too!

Those are the emotions I’m talking about. Those are the ones I’m not comfortable saying out loud because it sounds so silly. I know this is a simple thing… I know it’s not a big deal… But deep down it’s still another round of that “C” word without Bruce, and it’s still a little bit scary…

So, now, what do I do?

The same thing I have been trying to do on this journey… Share my feelings here and look constantly to find the blessings around me…

When Bruce was alive, I didn’t have to put any effort into finding the blessings… it was easy. It took us 44 years to find each other, and that miracle was never lost on either of us… Everyday together was a blessing. However, the past few days I have struggled… I hate it, but when things get tough, it is still so easy for me to get caught up in what I have lost rather than what I still have.

I really do realize I have a lot of blessings here, though. This has been caught early, and it is going to be absolutely fine. I also have great family and friends who are here for me. Luckily, I have great insurance, a fabulous boss and a wonderful job that allows me to take care of my health without worry of reprisals.

… And even if I can’t see him, in my heart, I know Bruce is here beside me once again… Holding me tight and whispering, “I love you” and “We’ve got this” in my ear…

How about you? What do you struggle with along your path? Do you ever struggle to find the blessings when things get hard? How do you respond to those moments? This path can be a hard one, but none of us need to do it alone. We are all here for each other. We all have stories to share. Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold 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

* 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… You Feel What You Feel

This week, I listened to a speaker talk about emotional pain, such as grief. He talked about how when the pain is physical, we are more honest about how we feel. For example, if we have a broken bone, no one thinks less of us if we say it is hurting on a certain day. Shoot, even years later, if you say that an old injury is bothering you, no one thinks a thing about it.

Yet inner pain, which is just as real, is not treated the same. For whatever reason, we are more hesitant to say we are feeling a little down or that the grief is a bit overwhelming on a certain day. But why? Is it the reaction we think we will get? Or is because of a reaction we have gotten in the past? … Probably a little bit of both.

But just like a physical hurt, we must acknowledge and take care of our inner pain, as well, if we want it to heal at all. If you have ever lost someone you love, that is what we call our grief journey… That path where we struggle to find the healing balance which will allow us to deal with the pain, while at the same time, not letting it completely take over our lives.

For me, (six years later), I mostly function in a positive zone… most days, I am okay. In fact, if you ask me how I am, I will say, “Fabulous.” I can smile and laugh and live in the moment. However, I still have days or moments where the grief and sadness are dominant. It’s not a bad thing or an overwhelming thing… I just feel sad. Plain and simple, I miss Bruce. More precisely, I miss all the things he added to my life.

I’m not talking about a pity party… I’m not caught up in feeling sorry for myself. In fact, most people around me are completely oblivious that anything is wrong. I can usually brush any questions off with “I’m just tired.” But the truth is I’m just sad. I don’t know how to explain it… I’m not feeling sorry for myself. At this point, I definitely accept my reality as it is… I guess the best I can explain it is to say I just miss him.

You see, when you lose your partner, you lose more than just a person. That person filled so many roles… so many spaces in your life… And I miss all those things…

I used to always tell Bruce, he was my hero… and he was. He was also my best friend, my rock and my anchor… He brought a stability to my life that I had never experienced before him. I have spent most my adulthood going from one crisis to the next, but not with Bruce. With him, life took on a peace and fullness that is indescribable… and I miss that.

I have a friend who lost his wife a few months before I lost Bruce. I remember asking him how he was doing one day, and he responded, “You miss the little things… that’s where the relationship and the love came from.” Boy, he was right! Those are the exact things I miss…

I miss going places with Bruce… side by side – always together. I miss sharing the adventure of all those places and experiences we shared. I miss going to restaurants and sitting on the same side of the table so we could still hold hands (or snuggle if it was a booth). I know that probably sounds goofy, but it made me feel so special. I miss that he would always order an appetizer, while I ordered a full meal. Then, when I got full (which didn’t take long), he would finish off my food… always letting me pick whatever I wanted to eat, then laughing as I pushed my plate toward him after only a few bites.

I miss Sundays… It was out day to go to the beach together. It was such a quiet special time together. There wasn’t a lot of conversation. Instead, we just enjoyed the silence as we sat next to each other holding hands while watching the waves, reading or catching a quick nap.

Sundays also meant cooking together. There was something fun and romantic about sharing a space that is really meant for one. There was also something sexy about watching him cook while I sat at the counter – watching, talking, and sipping on a glass of wine.

I miss those days when he got home first and would greet me at the door with a glass of wine. Or when I was on the phone with someone and getting stressed, silently, he would come with a grin and a glass of wine.

I miss snuggling on the couch after dinner – either in silence or watching TV. It didn’t really matter. Just being together, breathing each other in, was the best part of those moments.

I miss playing games and knowing that he would never just let me win. Of course, he might play sports left-handed to give me better chance (LOL!), but he was just as competitive as I am. It was so much fun, knowing that whoever won would have bragging rights for days.

I miss having someone who loves me, even when I’m wrong. He was always there for me… No matter what, he always had my back. Whenever I was frustrated with myself, Bruce would just take me in his arms and hold me. He never tried to fix things or reiterated my mistakes. Shoot, I was already well aware of whatever I had done. I just needed to know that someone still loved me in spite of it… and he never failed to fill that need. He never left me doubting his love. It was always there – strong and constant.

This list could go on and on… There are so many things I miss… So many day-to-day memories that I would give anything to have back again. However, that is not meant to be…

Instead, this is my journey, and honestly, I think I’m doing pretty good. Most days the road is smooth and the sun shines. Although occasionally, the road is rough, and I can’t see the sun. On those days, the only thing I know to do is breathe and take it one step at a time… allowing myself to feel what I feel – knowing that a better day is always just ahead.

What about you? What do you miss about your loved one? I know everyone’s experience is different… We all miss different aspects of our relationships, and we all heal in our own way. However, that doesn’t mean we have to be on this journey alone. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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… Oh, How I Wish!

I am not usually this late writing this blog, but until today, I didn’t really know what I wanted to write about… But something happened today that changed all of that…

Today, I drove about an hour + to meet up with a dear friend for lunch and some “catch-up” conversation. She and I have been friends for almost 30 years. Way back, we met because our husbands had served in the military together. Then, when we all left the military, we ended up in the same neighborhood. So, we did a lot together through the years. We home schooled together, went for nightly walks together, spent summers by the lake together, hung out at the bar together, babysat for each other, and our kids grew up together.

She has been there for me through thick and thin. When I went through my divorce, she and her husband offered us respite in their home. When Bruce and I were married, she was one of my biggest cheerleaders. Then, between life events and moving, we lost touch for a few years. In retrospect, neither of us knows quite how that happened… But as friends will do, about three years ago we found each other again and are determined that will never happen again.

Last year, when I went through the “cancer thing,” there she was – ready to do whatever I needed, whenever I needed. She allowed us to stay in their beach-side home the weekend before my surgery and was always standing ready to go with me to my treatments in the event my sister couldn’t. And since I have been declared cancer-free, she has been trying to find a way for us to celebrate.

In other words, she is a dear, dear friend, who owns a piece of my heart!

Today, we met halfway between our homes. (In reality, she drove further than I did, but that is how she rolls.) For four hours, we sat and talked… We laughed, we cried, we shared memories and dreams for the future… It was a glorious afternoon! And before we said our goodbye’s, we made plans for the next time.

Why am I telling you this? Well, as I drove home, I started thinking…

What a wonderful afternoon. It was simple – nothing fancy, nothing crazy, not a ton of money… It was just two people who genuinely care for each other spending an afternoon together. It was such a special day for me.

So why is friendship one of those things we seem to take for granted? Why is time spent with those we love something we take for granted? I don’t have an answer, but I would bet we all do it…

I have no regrets when it comes mine and Bruce’s relationship. Yet, I also know I took for granted so much of our time together. Don’t get me wrong… I really did appreciate our time together. Even back then, I knew I was blessed. But, all those day to day moments… those times we were just sitting on the couch watching TV or the times we were cooking together in the kitchen… All the times we came home from vacation and still had to unpack and do laundry… Or all the Sunday nights we were just getting ready for the next week… What about those?

Honestly, I know I took them for granted. I always just assumed we had endless days waiting for us… I never dreamed we wouldn’t “grow old together.” I didn’t know I needed to actually appreciate every single moment.

But now… now, I would give anything for just one afternoon with Bruce… One just like this one I just spent with my friend… To have four hours to talk and catch up… To laugh together and be able to share what is happening and what our current passions are dreams are… To be able look into his eyes just one more time and say “I love you.”

Oh, how I wish that could be… just one more time…

What about you? Do you know what I mean? Do you ever wish you could have just one more day? One more moment? I know everyone’s experience is different, and we all heal in our own way, but that doesn’t mean we have to be on this journey alone. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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… Supposed To

This past week has held a lot of stress at work – not really anything bad, per es, just deadlines and meetings that didn’t go as predicted. We’ve all been there… We all know that is just life sometimes. No big deal… we keep going. Still, it is that stress that left me feeling emotionally drained… and physically tired this week. I know when I am tired, I am more vulnerable to the waves of grief that can catch me off guard… And they did.

All week as the exhaustion increased, my ability to push the grief onto a back burner got harder and harder. By Wednesday, the tears were next to impossible to keep at bay… And it was beyond frustrating. I was determined not to cry… not at work… not in front of anyone. Yet, there were a couple of times, I had to turn my back and hide my face. Yet, even that sometimes pisses me off, too.

Why are we held to a standard that at times is impossible to uphold? We (or at least myself) are told we’re supposed to be strong. We are “supposed to” be over it… But what about the days or moments when we aren’t? Why can’t we just be human for a moment?

But the world doesn’t function that way… And we all seem to abide by the “supposed-to’s.”

As women in the workplace, we are “supposed to” act more masculine – toughen it up, show no emotion. Otherwise, we are viewed as weak or silly. Who decided that? I’m not saying we should be an emotional mess. But I do know, having feelings and emotions doesn’t make me weak… In fact, I would bet money, I have survived more crap than most of the men who hold me to that standard.

As men, they are “supposed to” be tough and squash their emotions down deep inside where no one can see them. We tell them from an early age, “Big boys don’t cry.” Then later, as adults, we tell them not to be afraid of their feelings. Oh! Do we mean those feelings we told them not to have? Good grief! What is that about?

As an older woman, we are told what we should or shouldn’t wear… “Don’t look old, but don’t dress too young.” … Oh, please! (Yes, I am rolling my eyes!)

Certainly not the last of a never-ending list, but as a widow, I’m “supposed to” move on – get over it… Whatever!

Some days the pain is so great.
Sometimes it is too much.
But still I must put a smile on my face
And walk out to face the world.
I must pretend all is well.
But on the inside…
The pain is so great…
It is too much…
Too much…
~ Linda, September 2013

I guess what I’m saying is we all have these ridiculous expectations that are placed on us by the world around us. Yet if we are honest, as much as we hate it, we also placed them on the people around us, as well. But why? The older I get, the more I realize it’s all so ridiculous! Who cares? Yes, we need standards for our own lives, but we don’t need everyone else’s standards for our own lives… Didn’t we learn that as teenagers when peer pressure was so strong? Where did we start falling for it again?

It seems like somewhere along the line, it became more about trying to make everyone “comfortable” and life always appearing to be fabulous, rather than life is life and we just need to live it honestly. Yes, we all need to maintain a certain amount of self-control, so that our needs don’t impede on someone else’s existence. So, as long as we respect that, why not live our lives, and just leave all those “supposed-to’s” behind?

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live my life based on someone else’s expectations… I simply want to live it… and experience it… all of it – the good and the bad. I want to feel what I feel, wear what makes me feel good, and do those things that bring me joy…

And I would bet you, if Bruce (or any of our loved ones) could come back, they wouldn’t say they wished they had followed more of these “supposed-to’s” …

Don’t be so rigid that you break in the storm.
At the same time, be careful how far you bend.
For if you bend too far, like a tree that breaks in the storm,
You will find you are no longer standing at all.
~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? What has your grief journey been like? Have you ever felt like you had to live up to everyone else’s standards? If so, did it frustrate you? Or was it helpful? I know there isn’t one answer that works for all of us. Everyone heals in their own way, but that doesn’t mean we have to be on this journey alone. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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… It’s Complicated

In the dictionary, grief is defined as “deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death,” with a second definition of “trouble or annoyance.” … Speaking from experience, both are right, and both apply here. Grief is deep sorrow caused by death, and it creates a lot of trouble and annoyance.

This week, while listening to “The Dead Drink First” by Dale Maharidge on my work commute, there was a quote that caught my ear. The speaker was a WWII vet, and basically, he said that the dead are not the ones who suffer; their suffering has ended; it is those who love them… those who are left behind who truly suffer. I couldn’t agree more.

Throughout the years on this journey, I have gone through every emotion on the planet. In the beginning I was completely numb – going through the motions of life, but not able to grasp what was really happening. It’s weird… I can remember people telling me how strong I was. I wasn’t… I was numb… I was completely dead inside. I kept thinking this had to be a dream, and I just needed to get to the end and wake up. Then, everything would be okay. Then, Bruce would be right there beside me, and I would be able to snuggle up in his arms and kiss his cheek.

But that didn’t happen…

Instead, after a couple of months, the grief (“deep sorrow”) actually started to set in. I was alone… I started each day alone, and I ended each day alone. When I looked at what lay ahead, my life looked a road filled with being alone.

This led to feelings of abandonment. I remember feeling abandoned by Bruce, abandoned by God, and abandoned by the world, (who, if you remember, is thinking I am “strong” and doing okay). Which, of course, only created “annoyance.” Then, the anger started. It began deep in the pit of my stomach, and quickly flowed into every thought.

Day after day, it was always the same – wake up, work out, go to work, come home, go to bed. Life seemed bleak and pointless… I didn’t understand why I was still here, and Bruce was gone. I couldn’t figure out what my purpose was… I couldn’t seem to find hope anywhere.

Now, the world started to take notice and think something was wrong. After all, I had been doing so well. What in the world was wrong with me? Most people had no idea this was the grief, just starting to settle in. This was actually normal. This was the “deep sorrow” and the “trouble and annoyance.” And, honestly, this delayed response is more “normal” than one might think.

You see, the sudden, (aka – unexpected), loss of someone you love knocks you off your feet. I can remember feeling like the rug had been pulled out from under me, and I wasn’t sure how it happened or why. Then, once I realized what my reality was, it felt like the last pages of my book, my story, had been ripped out. It is an awful feeling, and one I struggled with for a long time, as I tried to get my bearings and find a renewed purpose.

Then, there was the guilt. I later heard someone say that it isn’t unusual for the surviving loved ones to feel guilt or blame, because these emotions offer us a sense of control in the situation. It makes us feel as if there is a chance things could have been different… Maybe it could have been prevented. This didn’t just happen. No, someone is at fault… And in my case, it was me.

After all, I was the one who was sleeping beside him when it happened. I was the one who couldn’t wake up fast enough or call 911 fast enough. I was the one who struggled trying to get him into a position so I could do CPR… And, ultimately, I was the one who failed… In his last moments, when he needed me most, I failed. He died, and I couldn’t stop it. (Honestly, I am still crying as I write this part… I think I will always feel guilt for not being able to save him.)

It didn’t matter that the Medical Examiner told me no one could have saved him. His condition required a heart transplant, so when his heart stopped, it stopped. “No one,” he emphasized over and over, “could have saved him that night.” Yet, I have struggled with this guilt for years.

It has been a slow process, but through the years, I have come to terms with my reality. I have learned to laugh and enjoy life. It’s hard to really define my purpose, but I believe, I am here to just be kind and show love to others… At least for now.

At this point, I have a lot more good days than bad… And even the bad days, don’t linger like they used to. I am better at recognizing when I need time for me and when I need to be with others. I am better at recognizing that I am responsible for how I handle my grief, and no one else.

It’s been quite the journey, and I know it’s not over. While in the beginning I couldn’t see how I would manage, now I know I can’t just quit at life because he is gone. Life keeps going, and I want to be a part of it.

All that being said, I miss him… and I think I will always miss him.

This is just a small snippet of what grief is like… It is a small piece of my experience, but everyone’s path is unique. Everyone’s grief is different… However, it is always a jumble of emotions that come and go. Most people refer to these as waves of grief… or aftershocks. Sometimes, they are just small twinges and other times they are as strong as the initial blow and will knock you off your feet. The worst part is you never know when they will hit or why. There is no real rhyme or reason. For me, I am learning that when I am tired or frustrated, I am more vulnerable to these, but that isn’t always the deciding factor. It can be a song or smell, a place or someone’s mannerisms… Any number of things that suddenly bring Bruce to my mind, and then just as quickly, I think how much I still miss him and wish he were still here…

In other words, it is complicated…

“Grief is more than missing someone; it is an unrelenting ache for reality to be different and for the impossible to come true.” ~ Anonymous

What about you? What has your grief journey been like? What has been your biggest obstacle? How do you handle those moments when the memories flood in and threaten to take over your reality? Have you found a way to balance your grief with your current life? I know there isn’t a schedule, and everyone heals in their own time, but that doesn’t make this journey any easier. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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… Unexpected Memories

It’s hard to believe I have spent the last few days in Michigan. It felt so strange – so surreal. There are so many days when I miss Michigan. Let me clarify… There are so many days when I miss our time there… our time together. I have so many good and happy memories of us there. Sometimes I even wonder what it would be like if I could go back, or if I still lived there…

When I stepped off the plane on Thursday, I was excited at the idea of spending the next few days with Bruce’s family. I walked down the gangway and into the airport, and it hit me like a punch to the belly… All I could think about was the first time I walked down that same corridor, and there Bruce stood – leaning against a column watching the passengers disembark. The moment our eyes met, he broke into a grin from ear to ear.

On Thursday, I knew he wasn’t there waiting. (Oh, I wish he had been!) Yet, it all came back so fast and felt so real. I actually had to stop for a moment and look around to get my bearings in this reality. This town is filled with so many memories, I found myself pausing quite often while I was there to catch my breath and to remind myself what my reality IS.

There were other memories that came to mind as I found my way through the airport… There were the chairs where we would try to steal a few private moments before saying goodbye when we were dating, and the restaurant where we always had a pre-flight drink when we were flying together. I would swear I could remember every trip to the Gulf Coast to see his folks and the multiple trips to SC to see my family… And that was just the airport.

As I was driving through town, all I could think about is how beautiful Michigan is in the summer, and how I loved spending that first summer up there with Bruce. I can’t even begin to describe the pure lush, green of a Michigan Summer… It is absolutely amazing. That drive to Bruce’s family, out toward Lake Michigan, brought back the memories of all the times we drove out there to spend time on our sailboat, Island Buoy.

While I was there, Bruce’s sisters and I spent one evening out at Lake Michigan watching the sunset. At the water’s edge, we all put our toes in the water… And it was freezing!

All I could think about was the time Bruce anchored the sailboat offshore. The plan was to swim in and eat at the beach side restaurant. I put one foot in the water and immediately climbed back into the boat. There was no way I was swimming in that cold water. There was a short conversation between us, before Bruce conceded to let me ride on his shoulders (above the water). LOL!

Truthfully, I never swam in that lake… It was always too cold for me. Bruce took one picture of me with my feet in the water, but that was as far as I could manage… Just the memory of those days had me laughing happily inside as we watched the sun slide quietly from the sky.

The highlight for my trip was spending time with Bruce’s Mom and Dad. It was wonderful! Bruce has been gone for so long now, most people will tolerate a phrase or tow about him… maybe even the occasional shared memory, but too much “Bruce” seems to make the room grow silent. However, for two days, there was conversation after conversation with his parents, and each one was filled with Bruce. I loved it! (It was even better knowing they wanted and needed those conversations as much as I did.)

At one point, Dad said the kindest thing… He talked about how it felt when Mom had a couple of strokes in May and spent weeks on end at the hospital. He talked about how awful it was to come home to an empty house – without her… And how he realized in those moments how hard the last six years have been for me… without you.

He is one of the only people who has been able to experience that and to make that connection with me… All I could manage to say was, “Thank you!” Thank you for understanding… Thank you for validating how hard this has been.

He went on to say he couldn’t speak for the rest of the family, but he could definitely speak for himself, and he felt he could speak for Bruce. Then, he said he knew if something happened to Mom, he couldn’t handle that loneliness day after day… year after year… that he felt he would need someone. He wanted me to know that he (and Bruce) would be happy for me if I ever found someone who made me happy again. He kept stressing that he (and Bruce) wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life.

Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about that part. I am grateful to have his blessing (and Bruce’s), if such a thing should happen… And I know “never say never.” However, I don’t know if I am really ready for such a thing. Then again, there’s no rush… not for me anyway – I’m okay for now.

As I write this, I am on the plane heading back home… All I can think is how lonely it feels leaving Michigan alone… It’s like saying goodbye to Bruce all over again… As I sit here, I am trying to hide the tears from the boy sitting next me… I feel so sad and lost… so alone… but in my heart, I know, “All shall be well… All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” 1

What about you? How do handle those moments with the memories flood in and threaten to take over your reality? Is there a way to balance your grief with your current life? I know there isn’t a schedule, and everyone heals in their own time. However, that doesn’t make this journey any easier. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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

1 ~ Julian of Norwich

Peace, Love and Grief… Still Finding the Peace

“My mind still talks to you, and my heart still looks for you… but my soul knows you are at peace.”

I saw this saying on a piece of jewelry this weekend, and it seems to describe exactly where I find myself lately. I know it has been six years since Bruce died, but I also know there is no grief “schedule.” I do still talk to him in my mind. I do will look for signs from him… and yet, I do know he is at peace.

However, I’m not… Not completely, anyway.

I have come a long way over the years, but the bottom line is I still miss him… I also don’t really know how to let go. It feels so wrong… I guess I haven’t figured out how to balance my love for him without feeling like I am forgetting him and all we had together.

Most days, I just go about my day… Moment by moment, enjoying things as they come my way. Life is good, and I enjoy it. There are many times when I think, “Bruce would love this,” or “I wish Bruce were here for this moment.” However, I don’t cry every time like I used to. If I find myself down and crying, it is usually when I am overly tired, and just can’t manage to control those feelings.

There is a part of me that feels like I need to take another step forward, and an equal part of me that just isn’t ready. How do you do that without feeling like you are being disloyal to everything you had together? I see people do it… I’m not judging them… I’m just trying to figure it out for myself.

Does that make sense?

Like I said, I completely believe Bruce is at peace… I am the one that is still trying to find that sweet spot of peace and remembrance… I am the one still trying to come to grips with my reality…

Going from being married to being a widow has left me floundering. When I was divorced, I knew I was single. However, as a widow, it isn’t that simple. On the one hand, I still love him, and love doesn’t come with a switch that can simply turn itself off. So, there is a part of me that still feels married. However, the logical, rational side of me knows I’m not. How do I reconcile that?

Even the people around me struggle… Married couples don’t see me as married, so they long ago stopped including me. But my single friends seem to be on a mission to “find someone,” and I’m not in that space either. It’s like being in limbo… I don’t feel like I belong in either world.

Where do you go and what do you do, when you have no idea where you belong?

So… I sit and I wait. Is this where God wants me to be? I can only guess, yes, because I haven’t felt called to anything else. Perhaps this is still a time of healing, which I am okay with. Perhaps, it is a time of growth, which I have definitely felt. Whatever it is, I will wait… knowing that “All shall be well… And all shall be well… And all manner of things shall be well.” ~ Julian of Norwich

There is a path ahead.
A place I must go… alone.
I must let go of what was.
I am scared.
I do not want to move forward without you.
“It is time,” you say.
“No,” I reply and stubbornly refuse to move.
You promised you’d stay…
But I know…
I cannot see what lies ahead in the path.
I am scared…
Will God really be there?
I let go of your hand,
And take a step forward.
Then, I step back
And grab your hand again.
“It’s okay,” you say,
“There is so much more ahead;
Do not be afraid.”
So here I am
On the edge of the wood.
It feels safe where I am.
Can I take that first step?
Can I really let go of your hand?
I don’t know…
The love you showed me, I want to experience with God.
A love that is safe…
A love that is kind and good.
A love I can trust.
I wasn’t ready to let you rest in peace,
Because I wasn’t ready to live in peace without you.
I want to live in peace…
I believe I may be ready for that first step…
A step toward peace…
A step toward God…
A step toward love…
~ Linda, May 2019

What about you? Does anyone else struggle with letting go of your loved one? Is there a way to balance your grief with life? I know there isn’t a schedule, and everyone heals in their own time. But that doesn’t make this journey any easier. I believe there are we can help each other along the way, by sharing our stories. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. *

Who knows? Your story may the answer for someone else.

(Please excuse the late posting this week, as I was on vacation.)

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 Wedding… And He Was There

This weekend was a celebration… My youngest daughter got married! It was amazing to watch the her and her husband laugh and play throughout the entire day. It was a day which truly reflected each of them as individuals and who they are as a couple.

However, there were also some bittersweet moments, as well.

Years ago, when Bruce and I got married, it was the most wonderful day… It was a small, simple ceremony at the courthouse, with only a few family members present. In fact, because of timing and distance, my youngest daughter was the person from my family who was able to attend. I can’t say she was a willing, or enthusiastic, witness. (Now, we laugh about that.) However, in her defense, she had just been moved to a whole new state – away from her siblings – so her mother could marry a man she barely knew, while she was in the middle of high school.

The first few months were hard… She was very angry with Bruce and I. She didn’t want to be there… In fact, she didn’t want to be anywhere near either of us. However, the tide did turn (and it was sooner than I had expected). By the six-month mark, she was baking him cookies and referring to him as her “dad.”

Their relationship grew through the years as he filled a void in her life and became the loving father she didn’t have. Many nights I would come home to find him helping her with homework or giving hugs after a rough day. Many winter evenings were filled with the two of them having an indoor snowball fight (in winter) or a water war (in summer). He taught her how to snowboard and attended all of her concerts, dance competitions and theater productions. She relied on him for advice, such as which first apartment would be best or what next step to take in her life… And he was always there for her… Always.

Like many girls, she used to dream about what her wedding would be like when she got married. For example, she always wanted a beach wedding. As she got older, and their relationship got stronger, she would to tell Bruce that when she got married, she wanted him to walk her down the aisle. He would always get this huge grin on his face and tease her about wearing a bathing suit on the bottom and a tuxedo on the top. But in all honesty, he also talked about how much it meant to him… He was so honored that she would ask him to fill this spot on such an important day in her life.

But time was not on his side, and as you already know, he died before he could keep that promise.

So, as she began to plan this wedding, she had to make some different choices. She and her brother have always been close. In fact, he was the one to take her to her Father/Daughter dances when she was younger. So, she knew he was the one she wanted to walk her down the aisle.

However, she still wanted to include Bruce. Also, the groom has lost his father and brother in recent years and wanted to include them, as well. So, they placed a memorial table prominently in the reception hall with all of their pictures and a sign that read, “Forever in our hearts.” It was a beautiful way to include them on such a special day.

That seems like it would be the end of the story, but it really isn’t…

You see, throughout the years since Bruce died, pelicans have come to symbolize Bruce’s presence for me. Knowing they are considered a symbol of great love and sacrifice, every time I see them, I think of him… and I smile. In fact, each year on our anniversary, when I go out to the beach to toast the day with him, it never fails – there is always a flock of pelicans flying by with the exact number to match the year. (For example, there were ten pelicans on our tenth anniversary.)

Well, this celebration was no different… Each time she was out at the beach making preparations, a pelican flew by as if to say, “Yes, I am here.” Then on Friday, as she and her new husband were walking back down the aisle, she looked up and there it was… One lone pelican flying by… In her heart and in mine, that was a sign from Bruce… A sign that he really was there… And he wouldn’t have missed it for the world!

What about you? Have you ever felt the presence of your loved one? Is there a certain animal or thing that when you see it, you just know they are there with you? I know this journey can be hard, but I also believe there are blessings along the way, if we are open to seeing them. I also believe we are in this together and would love to hear your stories. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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… Back to That Ring Question

The ring… What to do about the ring?

That has been one of the quandaries for me since Bruce passed… but not his ring – mine. When Bruce died, I was handed the only jewelry he ever wore (and never took off) – his wedding band and a silver anchor necklace. Immediately, I slipped his wedding band onto the chain and placed it around my neck. I wore it there for years. In fact, I still wear it, but with all the surgery and radiation last year, I started tucking it into my clothes… as close to my heart as I can get it.

As for my wedding band, I didn’t even think about it for almost a year. It may sound strange, but I still felt married. (Honestly, there are a lot of times I have to remind myself that I am a widow… which technically means I’m not married, I guess.) That has been an on and off struggle for me as a widow…

For the longest time, it didn’t occur to me to “do” anything with my ring. However, over time I began to notice that different widows did different things in regard to their wedding bands. Some took it off immediately. Others moved it to their right hand, wore it on a chain around their neck or had it made into a different piece of jewelry. However, others just continued wearing it… I continued wearing mine… It just felt right at the time.

There are so many beautiful memories behind my ring. Every day, I would look at it and remember how much I had been loved, and how much I had loved him. It was a material representation of what we had… I couldn’t let go… I just couldn’t.

After the first year, I began to realize that while the ring brought me comfort, it also created some awkward conversations. Inevitably, someone would notice the ring and ask about my husband. I would answer that my husband had passed away and the conversation immediately became awkward. Caught off guard, people didn’t know how to respond, but I didn’t know how to answer any different. Finally, I came to the conclusion that, I should think about doing something different.

Doing what I usually do, I started with some research. Immediately, I found that there is no such thing as “widow’s ring etiquette.” There is no etiquette on what to do and when to do it. The bottom line is each person does what feels right for them… and what feels right at one point may change over time.

For a while, I tried placing my setting on Bruce’s chain with his ring, and wore them both around my neck… But my finger felt so empty! It was too weird! I decided to see if I could find a ring to wear on that same finger but would represent the changes in my life. I didn’t have anything in particular in mind. In my gut, though, I knew when I saw the right ring, I would know.

A few months into my search, I found what I felt was the perfect ring while in Mexico. It was a beautiful blue/violet tanzanite stone surrounded by a triangle of tiny diamonds. The stone was the color of the ocean where we met and spent so much time sailing, as well as the sky we dreamed under. The triangle symbolized strength, hope, spirituality, past/ present/ future and both the masculine and feminine (depending on the direction it points).

I loved it! It felt so perfect! I called it my “life ring.” It seemed to be a perfect representation of my life before Bruce and I met, our life together, and my future – whatever that might be.

I thought that would be it… For me, the ring question was finally answered… but things change.

Last year, when I was diagnosed with cancer, I was terrified! The idea of doing everything I needed to do without Bruce just seemed impossible. I didn’t think I had the strength to do it. I needed him by my side…

Then, one night as I removed the chain from around my neck, my ring caught my eye. It is the most beautiful piece of jewelry I have ever owned. However, more than that… Whenever I look at it, all I can think about it how much that man loved me, and how much I loved him. That ring was a symbol of us… side by side… for better or for worse… in sickness or in health…

In that moment, I made the decision… I put it back on.

All through my treatments, whenever I felt alone or afraid, I would look at that ring and know that Bruce was with me… I wasn’t alone. It probably sounds silly, but that ring (and everything it represented) gave me so much courage and strength. I would swear to you, it had as much to do with my healing and determination to live as any of the treatments I undertook.

So here I am… The cancer is gone, and I am on a healthy path, but the ring is still right here on my finger. It’s funny… I have come a long way in my grief. I am learning to “stand tall” a lot more than I cry. I am laughing and enjoying life again. I am feeling adventurous and stepping out in new directions. Yet, this ring remains on my finger. Honestly, I don’t know if I will take it off again or not… and I’m not really worried about it.

Why? Because it makes me smile… And when life offers you something that makes you smile; you should just enjoy it!

What about you? Have you ever found yourself in a quandary over the ring… Trying to decide on the best way to move forward and still not forget the past? This journey can be hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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

Things You Taught Me, Part 3

I sat weeping
Big, fat tears,
Heaving sobs…
How could you love me?
… me?

I spent years being told how horrible I was…
So undeserving,
So unlovable.
I have spent a lifetime
Feeling like someone else’s garbage.

I needed you to understand
Why you shouldn’t love me,
But you only held me tighter
As the tears and sobs flowed from my soul.

When my tears began to slow,
You looked me in the eye
And smiled…

STOP!
You don’t understand.

I took a piece of paper.
I crumpled it in a ball
And spread it out again.
Then, I crumpled it again,
And smoothed it out again.
I did this several more times
As you watched in silence…

I tried to smooth it out one final time,
“This is me…
This is what you think you love.”

With a question in your eye,
You replied,
“This is how you see yourself?”
In my shame, I nodded.
“Is there any good in you,” you asked.
I shrugged…

You took a clean piece of paper
And placed it over the wrinkled page.
“This much good?”
I shook my head…
You didn’t understand.

I took the clean page,
And tore off a small corner;
I placed that in the center of the wrinkled page.
“Maybe this much,” I said
As the tears started to fall once again.

You looked at the paper.
You took a breath…
I waited…
Expecting,
But not wanting to hear,
I was right…

Instead,
You wiped my tears.
“You only see the wrinkles –
The mess left from has passed.
But when I look at you,
I only see this part.”
And you gently touched the smooth corner
Sitting in the middle of so many wrinkles…

In that moment,
My heart was made whole,
Because now,
I understood love…
True, unconditional love…
Love that I never knew existed.

This is love! This is how Bruce taught me about love. This is when I first began to understand that I could (and should) have this same expectation of God’s love for me. When I think about all the ways Bruce and I expressed our love for each other, I know this is what I can expect in my relationship with God.

I can remember running to the car or the door when he came home in the evening, because I was so excited to see him. He would always laugh as he drew me into his arms and kissed me. I remember being content to simply sit together – no TV, no talking – just sitting and holding hands for an hour or more… So much love passing back and forth in a simple touch. I remember the safe, secure feeling when I laid in his arms. I remember how strong and powerful he was. Yet, he was always so gentle – so careful to never cause me harm.

He never felt threatened by my questions or my independence, and never demanded his own authority. Ours was a relationship of love, trust and balance… It is what I want in my relationship with God.

Bruce taught me so much about how God loves me and how to love him. God does not relate to me through my “wrinkles,” (aka my“sin”). He is not interested in that at all! Instead, love is his primary characteristic… Which means he doesn’t love me in spite of myself… He loves me because of myself… He loves the very person I am. Of course, he would! (He made me.) If God really is a God of love, then how could his love for me be anything less than Bruce’s love for me?

I remember when you died, Babe, you said you would be by my side for as long as I needed you… I don’t know when that will be… It is hard to admit (because I still love you so much), but I feel I am getting closer and closer to that point.

I love you, Babe… Now and forever!

~ Linda, Journal Entry May 2019

The healing in my life and in my heart over the past few months has been uncanny. I know this journey isn’t over… There will always be more to learn and more hurdles to jump. However, knowing that I am loved… Knowing that this is where Bruce has led me, brings me great peace.

It’s funny how those we love can still direct us even after they are gone. I have been following and exploring Bruce’s legacy for years. To this day, I am still unraveling and learning, and he is still influencing my life.

What about you? Have you ever found yourself reading their books, listening to their music or the things that influenced their lives? What have you learned? This journey can be so very hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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