Uncategorized – Page 41 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Life is a Mix of Miracles and Grief

It’s funny how life has a way of showing us our own lives reflected back to us in the simple miracles of life. I was blessed enough to have just such an experience last weekend.

Bruce and I moved to the beach years ago. While it meant quite a work commute for both of us, it was worth it to know the water would be there waiting for us at the end of the day. We always loved our Sundays on the beach watching the waves and wildlife that abounds at the shore. As we sat there, we saw everything from crabs and sandpipers to pelicans and dolphin… and once we were even blessed to see whales migrating not too far off shore.

But this last weekend beat all of those in my book. While my grandson rode the waves on his boogie board, my daughter and I sat and talked. Within a short time, the sky became overcast and the temperature dropped. I couldn’t believe it… Here it was the end of July in Florida, and I had to wrap up in my towel like a blanket because I was actually cold! It was ridiculous.

Just as I was about to say, “Let’s call it a day and head on home,” my daughter looked down the beach with an odd stare.

“What is that?” she asked. I turned to look down the beach, too. There was a small crowd of about 10 – 12 people gathered and several small, dark objects scattered on the beach. Looking a little harder, the objects appeared to be moving! My first thought was crabs. However, my daughter jumped up and started running, “They’re TURTLES!” she cried.

TURTLES!?! I grew up on the coast. I have spent many summer days on the beach throughout my entire life. Since moving to the Florida coast, I am on the beach at least once a week throughout the entire year. While I have always wanted to see turtle hatchlings, it has never happened… This is normally a nocturnal event, and the odds of ever seeing it are pretty slim. Were we really about to experience such a miracle?

I called our grandson and we all ran down the beach together. IT WAS AMAZING!
Just to get out of the nest is quite a feat! From what we were told, the eggs are usually 1 – 1.5 feet deep. The hatchlings then have to dig their way to the surface. From there, they must make their way to the water. Because it was low tide and the nest was located high up on the beach near the sea oats, these little guys still had a long, hard trip to the water.

There were about 50 hatchlings in the first group, and the crowd was wonderful. Everyone stayed back and gave them the space they needed for their journey. Before long people began to “escort” these little turtles – keeping the seagulls away and/or guiding the stray ones back in the right direction by blocking the wrong route with towels and boogie boards. It was the most amazing site.

I started escorting one particular little guy as he came out of his nest. I watched him as he struggled through the soft, deep sand above the high tide line. This part of the beach was filled with footprints, crab holes and the playful holes of children. Up until this moment, I never thought of these things as obstacles… I actually never thought of these at all before… They have always just been a part of what makes the beach “the beach.” However, watching this little guy climb up and down through all of it, working harder than you would ever imagine, brought tears to my eyes. What a struggle! What perseverance!

Once he finally made it to the firmer sand, I thought the hard part was over, but I was wrong. He was beginning to tire and needed to stop to rest. However, this was where the real danger started. This was where the hatchlings became easy targets for the seagulls. I became more vigilant and more determined that this little guy was going to make it.

It did take a long time, but he made it! The first wave came up to greet him, picked him up… and carried him backwards about 3 feet. The poor little guy! He flapped his little flippers like crazy to move forward, but the strength of the wave was much greater. As the wave pulled back into the ocean, that little hatchling did not give up. He rewalked those 3 feet and was greeted by another wave. This time he managed to swim a little harder and the wave only took him back a few inches. The next time was the charm… as soon as the wave picked him up, he was off… And I stood there watching in awe… and crying.

Once the last hatchling made it into the water, we all looked at each other and took in the miracle that we had just experienced… but it wasn’t over.

The park rangers were there before long. They explained that the overcast sky combined with the drop in temperature, had triggered the eggs to hatch, despite the fact that it was daytime. Now, however, the sun had come back out and the temperature was rising again. They needed to dig up the remaining hatchlings and get them to the water before they became overheated and died.

So we watched… twenty more hatchlings were brought out of the nest and started the same long journey to the ocean. Once again, we all stood guard and guided them along.

As I watched this second group, I began to see a similarity in the turtles’ journey and my own grief journey.

Like the turles, there is a shock when you emerge into the world without your lost loved one. There is a time when you are completely unsure of what to do next. Then, there is the long slow journey as you try to find your way and figure out where you belong.

Just as the hatchlings need to make this journey themselves, so do we. For the hatchlings it is important because they need build the strength in their flippers in order to be able to swim when they finally reach the water. For us, we need to do the hard work required to deal with the loss and pain so we can learn to live again… and no one can do it for you.

Just like the turtle’s journey, there are pitfalls, wrong turns and dangerous obstacles but it is still up to us. We may need help, and we should ask for it, but ultimately, the journey is ours.

Then, there are the waves. When the turtles hit the water, most of us thought the hard part was over, but we were wrong. The waves set the turtles back many times before they finally swam out to sea. Even then, the journey wasn’t over. One little hatchling was actually snatched right out of the waves by a seagull.

So just like the hatchlings and the waves, once we get to a certain point in our journey, most of the people around us think we are through the hard part. They believe we are fine and ready to “move on.” However, that is far from true. There are many days when we are still overwhelmed by waves of grief… There are even some days when it feels like you are back at square one.

Eventually, you do learn to “swim” when the grief hits. However, it takes the strength already gathered in the journey to do that… And even then, even once you think you have “made it,” there will still be “obstacles and danger”… there will still be hard days.

Maybe it sounds silly, but I really related to the hatchlings as I stood on the beach and watched their struggles and ultimate triumph. I felt that God was using the miracle of life to teach me that grief is just as much a part of this same miracle.

Life is not just the happy times or just the bad times. Instead, it is the mixture of good times and hard times… Joy and sorrow… miracles and grief… the yin and the yang. It is these opposite forces working together that make us strong, truly alive and inter-connected with each other.

Here is a brief clip of the miracle that day… Hopefully, hearing the excitement in that moment will make at least one other person smile today…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQmpEgI8LnU

What about you? Did you or have you struggled in your grief? 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… Surviving Versus Living

“Last night was rough. Woke up numb this morning. Praying God will hold to his promise and heal my pain. Where is God? I am abandoned. I have been angry, I know… I am trying. I remember once when was so mad at Bruce. He just reached out and hugged her. At first she resisted, but he wouldn’t stop hugging her. Instead he said, ‘You need this hug. You need to know I love you.’ … That is what I need from God…”
~ Linda, Feb 2013

Surviving versus living… That is where I found myself after Bruce passed away. I believe that conflict eventually becomes the choice of every grieving person. In the beginning, I remember the pain was so intense it took everything in me just to keep breathing. Getting out of bed and moving through my day was a moment by moment miracle. The basics of survival, like breathing and eating, which normally are done without much thought, not only required thought, they required will-power. It took everything in me just to survive.

I felt so very alone and isolated. None of my friends or family had been through this… I didn’t know who to turn to or how to ask for what I needed. Yet, I knew I was not the only person to have been on this path. I knew it because of the quotes and Bible verses that kept popping up around me, such as:

I am bowed down and brought very low;
All day long I go about mourning…
I am feeble and utterly crushed;
I groan in anguish of heart…
For I am about to fall,
And my pain is ever with me.
~ Psalm 38: 6,8,17

Maybe it sounds weird, but it brought me a bit of comfort to know others had gone before me on this path. Others knew how deep this pain could be… Maybe I was not so alone after all. Because of my faith, I also found promises of hope in verses such as:

My sorrow is beyond healing.
My heart is faint within me…
Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no physician there?…
‘For I will restore you to health and I will heal you of your wounds,’ declares the Lord.
~ Jeremiah 8:18,22 and 30:17

AND

Then you shall call and the Lord will answer,
you shall cry for help and he will say, “Here I am!”
~ Isaiah 58:9

And yet, I still seemed to feel utterly abandoned and alone… I still felt like I was merely surviving for a very long time. I did a lot during that time in an attempt to heal… I attended a support group, started journaling, continued running, did a lot of reading and expressed myself through painting and gardening. Yet, even through all of that, I just couldn’t quite get past merely surviving.

It is said that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Well, I must agree. I believe I did all of those things in preparation for my teacher…

It was ten months later when I started making the turn from mere survival toward truly living again. What was the trigger? Someone (a stranger) reached out and as my mother would say “entered my life to become ‘God with skin on.'”

It started simply as a guest speaker at our office. As a business and life coach, she started the session by asking us to decorate a banner with words stating our purpose, why we were there or how we felt about our life. I simply wrote, “survival.” As soon as she spotted it, she came behind me, drew a big heart around my one word and wrote “support.” With such a simple gesture, she had become “God with skin on” for me and given me that “hug” I had begged for months earlier.

Then, she offered me the unconditional support I needed by taking it a step further…

She quickly became my coach, and because I was ready, my teacher. It’s funny but we rarely talked about my grief. We talked about Bruce, my family, work… We talked about life. She reminded me that I was not alone. She reminded me that I needed to look for God in all things or I would never see God in anything. In less than 6 months, she taught me the difference in survival and living.
She re-introduced me to life… my life… and I am forever grateful.

At this point I want to be sure I am perfectly clear. Grief is real; it is individual; and it is not selfish. To avoid the time needed to work through your emotions and self reflection is not healthy… It is absolutely necessary. However, when the time is right (and it will be different for each person), the healing, (the movement from mere survival to living life), can begin.

So what makes the difference in living versus merely suviving? It is finding the divine energy within each of us. Then, using that source to become a divine reality for someone else by simply being the love and acceptance we are seeking from the world around us.

In other words, it is using the love within us to move from a place of “self” to a place of service.

Polish your heart
so that it reflects
God’s love
to the world around you
~ Linda, February 2016

What about you? How did you find your way on your grief journey? Did you ever feel like you were merely surviving? 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

Peace, Love and Grief… It takes bravery

Grief is a funny thing… not funny “haha.” I am referring to funny as in “odd or strange.” It affects the person suffering the loss, and it affects the people around that person. It can bring out the best in us and it can bring out the worst. It is a bundle of constantly changing emotions, and yet we refer to it as if it is one. There is no way to measure it, nor any “perfect standard” for healing.

Grief is one of those topics that is rarely openly discussed in our culture. It is sad, and it is hard… And, as a culture, we seem to choose to ignore its existence until it happens to us. Because of this, grief is one of those life lessons that until experienced is hard to understand.

Maybe this is why, as a culture, whether we are the person grieving or the outside observer, we are so unprepared to deal with grief. Since it is not something we were taught, but rather “protected from,” we are likely to have some pretty big issues when we finally encounter it for ourselves.

I remember when Bruce passed away… all I really knew about loss was from Hollywood. While it is true, I had lost a child and all of my grandparents, I had never truly grieved any of them. With those losses, I thought I needed to be that “strong person” Hollywood seems to always make into the “grieving hero.” I didn’t expect anyone to come to my side or listen to me cry, because I wasn’t going to let myself cry. Instead, I did what I thought a “brave” woman would do – I pushed any emotions down deep inside and moved on through life as if all was fine.

Many years later when Bruce passed away, I learned that reaction really isn’t bravery… It is avoidance. Bravery is learning to face those emotions (many times alone), work through each one and fight to come out on the other side.

I don’t know what made Bruce’s death so different… I don’t know why that was my tipping point… but it was. My world just seemed to end. I felt weak. I felt broken. Now, being brave and strong seemed to be defined by simply continuing to breathe and exist. I wanted people to come to my side and hold me while I cried… I needed people to come to my side and hold me while I cried.

Thankfully, there were people who did exactly that. Some of them came and stayed and are still here. Some came for a season and left. Still others (less than a handful), actually came only to see if there was anything in it for them. (These are the predators even Hollywood acknowledges and are easy to spot.)

I think (for me) the problem then became two-fold. I didn’t know what I really needed or how to ask for it. This meant the people around me didn’t know what I needed either. As a result, I still felt alone and isolated. While I can’t say how the people around me felt with any certainty, I imagine they were a bit frustrated, as well.

Maybe this is where the breakdown starts between the griever and the observers.

Whatever the cause, once the breakdown starts it becomes harder and harder to hold onto the relationship. As the griever, I can say that I tended to pull more and more inside myself – leaving me feeling more and more isolated.

Now, as life moves on and I am able to look outside of myself again, I am starting to experience the observer side. On this side, it is difficult to know what to do. Now, I can see that as the griever pulls further inside themselves, I am torn between pushing my way in or just standing back and waiting… it is a hard position.

I, also, can’t say that it is the strength of the relationship prior to the loss that makes the difference. When Bruce passed away, I had several “best friends” who started strong but quickly faded into the background. I am not them, so I can’t tell you why. All I know is it hurt… It hurt really bad. But, now that life is a bit more stable for me, they are slowly starting to reappear in my life. I love them, and I have welcomed their friendships back… but our relationship is definitely different.

Then there are others who were not close to me prior to Bruce’s death, who came and stood solidly and firmly by my side. They may not have known what to say or do, but they stayed. I may have grieved longer than they expected, but they stayed. I may have ranted or lashed out or said some pretty ugly, angry things… but they stayed.

These people mean the world to me. They taught me that there is no “right way” nor any time limit for grief. They allowed me to feel what I felt and work my way through it without fear of losing their friendship, too. These are the people who taught me the it takes true bravery to open yourself up to love and to grieve. These people are the reason I am still here… learning to live… really live life again.

And that takes true bravery…

There is a peace that comes with acceptance,
And a love that is always remembered.
~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? How was/is your expeience with grief? Did you experience the loss of friendships during your grief? Do you still need support? Would you allow us to be there for you? Would you be willing to be there for someone else? If we share our stories and thoughts, we can help each other… Are you willing?

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Freaky Friday lessons to learn

I used to be one of those people who would panic at everything… I would cry at the drop of a hat and avoid confrontation like the plague. After the abuse in my first marriage, I remember my counselor telling me that was a normal response to the years of walking on eggshells… of never knowing what would be the next thing to set off a tyrade in our home. During that time of recovery, that information was comforting – knowing that I wasn’t crazy. However, I still found myself frustrated with my own behavior. I knew this was not how I wanted to spend the rest of my life.

When Bruce and I got married, his trustworthiness and steadfast character helped a lot. With time, I learned to handle more and more, but it was still baby steps… and if I felt overwhelmed, he was always there – ready to be my hero.

Then, in a flash one night, he was gone… and I was left all alone to handle whatever came along. At first it was really hard… there were times when I was so angry at him for leaving me here to figure it out by myself. Other times – like this last week – I just felt like it was too much… I found myself missing him more than usual and asking him “why?” Why did he leave?”… and “how in the world was I supposed to do this all by myself?”

I believe life has a way of teaching and reteaching us certain lessons. One of those lessons is the idea that God/ Source/ the universe has our back. (Choose whatever term you prefer.) For me, that was made abundantly clear just a couple of days ago as one of my daughters, my grandson and I made our annual trek to the Shark Tooth Capital of the world.

Wanting to get there early, we left our home at 5:30 am and took the toll road around the city to avoid any big-city, rush-hour traffic. About 30 minutes into the trip, the normal, traveling complaints started from the backseat… You know what I’m talking about – the “How much longer?” and “I’m hungry” whining.

Then came the one everyone hates to hear… The one that can create instant panic – “I’m gonna be sick.”

WHOA! I pulled over, he and his mother climbed out and he hung over the guard rail waiting… but there was nothing. (Whew!) After a few minutes, they climbed back in. We handed him a bag (just in case) and started again.

A few minutes later came “I HAVE TO POOP! NOW!!!!”

“Can you wait for the exit?”

“NO! I HAVE TO GO NOW!”

So I pulled over again. They climbed out again… And the required attempt was made… but no luck. After a few minutes, they climbed back in. He picked up the bag and settled in as we started off again.

Then, a few minutes later it happened… he lost it. Thankfully, he managed to get it all into the bag, but… ugh! Just as he was telling us how much better he felt now, we heard another sound… like rocks hitting the car. Moments later, the dreaded low-tire light came on. We had blown a tire… The result of a nail in the road. We were between exits and not close to anything.

I pulled over and called my insurance company for Roadside Assistance. The call went through fine. However, when I was transferred to the R.A. vendor, the line filled with static. I couldn’t hear a thing. I hung up and took a breath. “Where are you, Babe?” I thought. “I could really use your help right now… This is becoming a disaster, and I don’t know if I can do this.”

I tried the call again with the same result. However, this time the woman on the other end called me back, and the line was clear. She was able to confirm our location quickly and stated that once she located an available company, she would call us back.

We all took a breath and settled in for “the wait.” At just that moment, my daughter stated, “They’re here.” Sure enough – help had arrived. However, instead of the help promised by the insurance company, it was an FDOT Road Ranger. What a blessing! Rather than merely removing the blown tire and putting on my spare, he was actually able to repair the tire within just a few minutes.

There are two things I need to tell you here… Two things that signaled we were not alone in this situation. First, while we were waiting, we looked at the horizon and realized we were being entertained with a hot air balloon race. How BEAUTIFUL!

Second, Bruce always said that when he first became a truck driver, they were considered the “Knights of the Road” – ready to help anyone stranded on the side of the road. He had loved upholding that image. However, he was always frustrated that reputation had not only been lost years ago, it had been turned on its head – leaving truckers with a bad image. In my mind, this Road Ranger was our “Knight in Shining Armor” our “Knight of the Road.”

Without a doubt, I know God took care of us and sent help. I, also, know Bruce had his hand in this, too… maybe as a reminder that he is still nearby – still watching out for us.

As we started back on our way again, we laughed and shook our heads. We were not even an hour into our trip, but we were sure that would be it. We could be thankful that everything was fine and just enjoy the rest of our trip.

But that was not “it”… our “Freaky Friday” had just begun…

As the day progressed, we found ourselves dealing with a GPS that either thought our car was also part boat or just went on the fritz for a few minutes – either way, we ended up lost… with a body of water between us and our destination. No worries, though. We were only a few minutes off track, so we turned around – a little later than we planned but no harm, no foul.

Finally, we arrived at our favorite spot. This is our third year making this trip, so we have this down to a science. We have a wagon filled with everything we need for 2 – 3 hours of sharktooth hunting at our spot. “Our spot” is actually hothing more than a hot, open field – a desert, as my grandson calls it. But we do not have this field to ourselves… There is a path through this field that locals say leads to a nude beach.

Through the years, we have seen people walk up and down this path (always clothed). Sometimes, we have talked to them. Sometimes, we just kept on hunting. On this day, as we were hunting, my daughter did one of those whisper-screams, “Naked man!” Then, she jumped up and went to her son to “casually” divet his attention (and his eyes). As for me, (I must admit) I looked up… and giggled. Then, I quickly looked down, pulled the brim of my hat lower and pretended not to notice. BUT SERIOUSLY! Who walks nude through a public area? At what point on the path did he decide “Now is the time to take it all off?” OR did he walk that way from his car? Who does that?

Once he was gone, we all giggled like 5 year olds and went back to what we were doing… each hunting in our own space. Suddenly, my daughter cried out from the other side of the field. As I ran over, she stopped me. “It’s a rattle snake,” she whispered and pointed into a gopher tortoise hole directly in front of her. As she had approached the hole, she heard it, jumped back and spilled the shark’s teeth she had already found. I slowly walked over. Sure enough, the snake was just inside the hole. I helped her gather up her spilled teeth as the snake, slithered deeper into the hole.

That was close! Think what you will, but once again, God had shown us that he was in control.

What a weird day… Surely that was it! But no – the craziness didn’t end there.

As we were sitting on the restaurant patio for dinner, there was a sudden BANG. Everyone on the patio jumped… We may all be on vacation, but recent news events still hover in the backs of everyone’s minds. Then, the waiter (with a look of total relief) yelled, “It’s just a tree!” Sure enough, it was nothing more than a VERY large branch that had fallen next to the patio. We all laughed nervously and looked at each other a bit sheepishly. But in all honestly, I think we all knew that while we were fine, the odds of it being something more serious were real…

What a weird day! What a “Freaky Friday!” In the past, I would have probably cried over most of this… or at the very least, I would have let it affect my attitude for the whole weekend. Yet I couldn’t deny that over and over God had shown us that he was in control.

After a week of wondering if I could do this alone, God was reminding me that I am not alone. I don’t do anything alone. He is always there… He is the one in control.

I have heard many times that we all have lessons that we must learn. If we don’t learn them the first time, life will continue to present that lesson over and over until we’ve mastered it. So, maybe this is my lesson… I’m not alone. I don’t need to worry or panic. God has my back, and he is in control.

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with trying to handle it all after your 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

Peace, Love and Grief… What would you change?

Let me start by apologizing for posting this week’s blog a day late. I have spent the past few days vacationing with my sisters on a quiet, remote beach… which has become my topic for today. Prior to this weekend, I had started writing about something completely different, but (just like life itself) something happened to changed my plans.

This trip is actually a yearly trek. In fact, every summer for almost a decade now, the four of us have come together from three of the four corners of the U.S. It is our time… It is a girls’ weekend that includes relaxing, napping, beach time and cocktails. But my absolute favorite part is the deep, intimate conversations… conversations with people I trust… conversations that are safe because I know no matter what anyone says, we will not only still love each other… we will actually love each other deeper because we know each other more completely.

Some of these conversations “just happen.” You know what I mean… one thing leads to another, and without realizing how you got there, you find yourselves in the middle of something very deep and extremely intimate. Other times we start asking random questions that can evoke hysterically funny “confessions” or the same deep personal conversations mentioned above.

While those conversations are only between the four of us, and that is where they shall remain, I do want to share my thought process to one of those conversation-starting questions… The question was, “If you could change anything about your past – anything you have done, anything you have experienced, anything that has happened – what would it be?

You might that is a “no-brainer.” Surely, I would say “Bring Bruce back”… Or to have never experienced the abuse and divorce of my first marriage… Or to have never lost my first son… Or to have never experienced such severe financial loss years ago… In other words, to have never experienced the most painful points or periods of my life… But I didn’t.

While I have spent many hours wishing these things had not happened, wondering “why me” and thinking “God must hate me,” I have (over the last several months) come to realize that these horrible, horrible things – these things that created such pain – are the exact things that allowed me to grow and become a better me.

Do I wish I had never experienced financial loss? OF COURSE! I’ve written about the hopelessness involved when I woke up one day to find my investments were not real – I was responsible for four children and all my money was gone. Yet, through that experience I learned how to handle my money. I learned that there was more to handling money than getting paid, paying bills and buying stuff. I learned to be involved in my investments and how to budget and plan. I learned that when I am in control of my money, I do not have “money worries.” In other words, I have learned how to have financial freedom… I don’t think I would have ever learned that lesson without that awful experience to literally throw me down that particular road.

So would I really wish that experience away? When I was in the middle of it, I would have… I was scared and everything before me seemed impossible. But now that I am on the other side, I have to say, “No. I do not wish that experience away.”

What about the loss of my first child? Do I ever wish that had never happened? OF COURSE! I have written about the excitement of carrying a life inside you and looking forward to holding and loving that child. I have also written about the awful pain and sadness of losing that life in childbirth… of never holding that child, never touching his fingers and toes or never kissing his brow. For years, I didn’t acknowledge or grieve my little boy… It wasn’t until Bruce died that I began to work through the plethora of emotions from that experience. But even that part of the experience taught me a lot about death and grief… I learned that shoving emotions aside and pretending everything is okay, is not okay. Emotions are real… They have a way of taking on a life of their own when they are not acknowledged. I would not have believed it, if I hadn’t lived it. However, I finally learned that I had to deal with the pent up emotions of losing of Baby Matthew before I could even start to deal with the pain of losing of Bruce.

So would I really wish that experience away? I don’t know that I would… I now know that each loss experience helps prepare you for the next. How you learn to handle grief and loss early in life, will either leave you prepared or unprepared for to handle the losses later in life. This was a huge lesson! I didn’t learn it when it happened but I still had to learn it… even though it was years, no – decades, later.

Well surely, I must have wished I had never experienced the abuse and divorce of my first marriage, right? No… I can’t say that either. I have written about the terror, the pain and the after-effects of that experience. It was horrendous. There were things that happened in that household that should never happen… I am not saying those things are okay – They ARE NOT! However, what I am saying is out of that relationship, came four of the most amazing and wonderful children who are now four of the most amazing and wonderful adults. I cannot imagine my world without them. Another thing also emerged out of that relationship – a better me. It took years (and Bruce), but I learned to be strong. I learned to stand up for myself. Most importantly, I learned that my “being afraid” was what gave my first husband his perceived “power.” As soon as I learned to stop being afraid, I took my own power back, and he lost all perception of any power in my life. He is not a threat to me… I am no longer afraid.

So would I really wish that experience away? No. Somewhere earlier in my life, I somehow learned that I didn’t have enough value to hold onto my own “power.” I learned to give it away, and in my first marriage, I gave it to someone who abused it. Learning “I have value and no one has power in my life that I do not give to them” was a lesson I had to learn. It took years and it was a horrible experience, but that was a lesson that I had to learn or I was destined to relive it over and over.

And finally, what about losing Bruce? Surely, that is the experience, I would change! Honestly, I wish that he were still here every day. I still love him, and I miss him terribly. But if I am honest, there have been a lot of positive changes in my life – lessons I have learned because the grief in this loss has forced me to look deep inside myself… To really look at who I am, what I believe and how to live a genuine life. I believe this has been the hardest experience of all. I have hated and resisted every step. I still hate it. However, I no longer resist the lessons… In fact, I not only seem to be open to the lessons, I actually find myself pursuing the next lesson.

So would I really wish that experience away? If I am honest, a huge part of me would still say, “Yes.” … Maybe it is still too early… may be it is too fresh… maybe with time, like the other experiences, I will give a different answer… But I don’t think so. I think I will always wish Bruce were still by my side – laughing with me, encouraging me and loving me. But I also, believe the fact that I can see anything positive at all in this experience… that I have become stronger instead of curling up inside myself is huge.

I love who I have become through this experience… I know this side of me is what Bruce always saw deep inside me and loved. I believe his legacy is the reason I have grown. Because of this loss and his legacy, I have come to realize that each experience – good or bad – has held a lesson for me and has made me who I am today.

So maybe I would change this experience, but at least I am able to see the good that has resulted because of his life… and that has to count for something doesn’t it?

What about you? Have you ever asked yourself what you would change if you could? Or have you learned to see the positive in each situation? 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Does it have to be emotions on or off?

I feel like I am going crazy. My emotions have been on hyper mode since this started. If I am sad, it is extreme. If I am happy, it is extreme. If I am angry, it is extreme. No matter the emotion, it is to the extreme. It seems like the only way to have any control at all is to shut them down completely. I hate it. Can anyone tell me if this is a normal part of grieving?
~ Linda, April 16, 2013

I remember this feeling so well… I also remember it lasted for well over a year. I also know that I still have the occasional day like this…

The other day I was having on of “those” days. I am sure you know what I mean… It was one of those days where life really isn’t bad, but for whatever reason, I seemed to miss Bruce more than normal. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and cry. Yes, even now (3.5 years later), I still have days where all I want to do is stage my own protest over this path life has chosen for me.

Now, however, those days are occasional days… And I am better able to recognize what is happening and turn myself around. Back then, though, those days were the norm… They were every day.

That first year was extremely hard. Trying to adjust to all the changes while going through life as if everything were normal (which it wasn’t) and all the while missing the other half of my soul… my best friend, lover and confidant. No wonder my emotions were off the charts. I was not equipped at all to handle those emotions, and as a consequence, my whole life felt comletely wrong and out of balance.

From the journal excerpt above, it is obvious that even 3 months in, I knew I was struggling. I even knew I needed to make some changes. Yet, the task felt as impossible or daunting as turning the Titanic… absolutely necessary but it would be a very slow process.

So, how did I make that turn? Well… There isn’t any one answer or rememedy. This blog has been proof of that as I have talked about the many different ways I have worked through my grief. However, the biggest epiphany happened just a few weeks before the 1 year mark.

At the time, I was building a leadership module for my office regarding how to handle emotionally charged conversations. While doing my research, I learned that our behavior is a direct result of our emotions which are a direct result of our thoughts. If you need to change a behavior, you need look past the behavior and the emotion and deal with the thought – the story we tell ourselves.
It sounded logical… but simple? NO! Not so much…

The truth was I had heard variations of this same thing from several sources. It really wasn’t new information. I don’t know why it suddenly made sense, but it did. And… like turning the Titanic, this would be a slow and arduous process as I learned that I didn’t need to turn my emotions on or off. I just needed to understand what was driving them.

There were several thoughts I had to work through. However, the biggest one was the thought that I was a “victim” of life’s cruelty. With this thought came the idea that I was powerless to handle what had and was happening to me. recognizing these thoughts was the first step… but it takes more than that to change a thought.

The next thing I had to do was to separate the facts of my situation from the fiction I was telling myself. For example, the factual data shows that my situation is not unusual. The most deadly decade for men is their 50s which drives the second fact that most widows are in their 50s. (When Bruce died, he was 52 and I was 51.) While I was emotionally telling myself one story, the truth was God had not abandoned me nor was life “against” me. I wasn’t a “victim” of anything. Life is just life… We all live and we all die. It sucks… and it is hard… I HATE it… but it just is.

Next I had to look at the “powerless” part and separate those facts from the fiction. This was one space where I looked to Bruce for my answer. He had always told me that I was much stronger than I thought I was… I just needed to look at things from a different angle. I needed to see that life always offers choices. I can choose for myself or I can give that power away. Granted, I didn’t have any choice in Bruce’s death, but I could choose how I respond to it. For example, I could choose to be grateful for what I have been given rather than dwell on what I have lost.

Is this easy? NO WAY! In fact, I would say it is one of the biggest challenges I have ever encountered. The fact that I have the power to choose my attitude in each moment is huge. Remembering that I have that power is even bigger. But here is the thing, the way we choose to live is a learned, practiced behavior. This means with practice, I have been able to re-learn how to live my life… or maybe I should say I am re-learning…

This is a day by day, moment by moment endeavor. Some days and moments are better than others. But… as time passes, it has become more and more my “norm”…

And through it all I have learned that it isn’t a matter of turning emotions on or off. It is a matter of choosing which emotions I will let drive my actions.

And as for me… I am no longer the victim… Instead, I am much happier to be the hero of my life’s story.

I miss you, Babe.
And I am sad.
But I am learning to be a whole being on my own.
I will be okay.
~ Linda, Sept, 2015

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with emotional upheaval and that feeling that it was completely out of your control after your 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Is it normal to be jealous?

Tomorrow is a day of love
for everyone…
but me.
My love is gone…
~ Linda, February 13, 2016

After Bruce passed away, I remember the first time I saw an older couple walking ahead of me holding hands… so happy… so content… so loving. My immediate reaction was one of jealousy. I could not understand why these people were allowed to have the very thing that had been taken from me.

My next reaction was one of disdain toward myself for feeling this way. I remember the tears that welled up in my eyes, as I turned and walked in another direction. I had no idea what to do with either emotion.

I remember another time when I was traveling, I was sitting in the hotel bar eating dinner. Next to me sat an older couple laughing, talking and flirting with each other. At one point, the woman noticed me watching them in the mirror. She turned to me and said, “I’m sorry. I hope we aren’t bothering you.”

It may sound strange, but I couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Y’all are fine,” I responded. “I was just thinking how lucky y’all are. I lost my husband a few months ago, and I miss those moments.”

I will never forget the compassion in their eyes as the woman told me that she had lost her husband many years ago and had recently remarried… She giggled a little as she told me there were in their late seventies, still “honey-mooners” and loved to spend time with each other. I remember feeling warm inside at their story. I remember smiling and talking to them while we ate… I was so happy for them, but deep inside, I was still jealous – I was still alone, and I could not imagine the whole dating and remarriage thing.

I remember sitting on an airplane several months later. Next to me was another older couple. Throughout our flight, they snuggled up sharing earbuds as they played a game on their tablet. They never seemed to notice me watching them out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered Bruce and I doing the same thing just the year before. I wondered if they knew how precious this moment was… But I was still jealous.

Even this last week, I found myself dealing with the pangs of jealousy. For years due to life’s circumstances, a sweet friend and her husband have had to live hundreds of miles apart. Recently, due to life’s changes, they are back together under one roof. This past week they celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary… together… as they should. On the morning of her anniversary, she brought in a small wedding photo album and placed it on my desk at work.

Here was where it got really sticky for me. I am happy for her… for them… I genuinely am! But opening that book and looking at those pictures was hard… I don’t know how to explain it… But once again, I felt that same jealousy of something I will never have… And that same disdain toward myself for feeling that way.

Through the last 3.5 years I have encountered many, many examples of times when I felt this way. I’m not proud of it. In fact, it is a bit embarrassing to write about… To be so honest about a character flaw that I know I need to learn to handle better.

But it is honest… and…

Late this week while talking to another friend dealing with a loss, I realized it is normal.

She shared her feelings with me with a bit of trepidation, and asked if she was “bad” for feeling jealous. Now that I was the one on the outside looking in, I realized how silly that sounded. Of course, when we loss someone we love we are likely to feel jealous of others who still have similar relationships.

That doesn’t mean that everyone who experiences loss feels jealousy. I know I have had other loss in my life that did not create jealousy. However, when the relationship was filled with passion and love, I believe jealousy is a natural reaction.

I don’t know if I will ever completely get passed that jealous response when I see other loving couples experiencing the small, precious moments of life. However, I do know that as time goes by that initial jealous pang gets shorter…

And the smile and warm feelings of precious memories that will always be mine gets longer.

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with jealousy after your 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

Peace, Love and Grief… When Your Dreams Become Your Dreams

Do you know that place between sleep and awake.
That place where you still remember dreaming?
That’s where I’ll always love you – that’s where I’ll be waiting.
~ Tinker Bell

This week I had one… I hadn’t had one for a while… What was it? A dream… a dream about what was once my life dreams… a dream about Bruce.

I must say I love these dreams! They fill me with so much energy and happiness. I wake up smiling… and that smile lasts for days. I have had several of these dreams since Bruce died.

The first time I dreamed of Bruce, we were bike riding… sort of. He was riding the bike; I was riding on the handle bars. Like kids, we whispered secrets and laughed as we rode through small side streets in a small, country town. We ended up in a meadow where we sat under a huge oak tree sharing a picnic lunch while we talked and snuggled. Toward the end of the dream, I began to realize we were slowly moving apart until I couldn’t touch him anymore. He quietly faded from my side, and I awoke.

Another time, I dreamed we were joy riding in his little, red truck down country dirt roads. Periodically, we would pick up and drop off one or two of our kids, enjoying conversations and laughter. The dream ended when Bruce dropped me off “at home” saying he’d be back later.

In my dream this week, we were running, playing and laughing on an obstacle course through a city. At one point, we came to a hole (or tunnel) built into the side of a bridge. There was graffiti all around it with my name and an arrow pointing the way through the hole/tunnel. I could see through the hole… It led to a world where everything was upside down. I was hesitant… not because I was scared but because it was too high for me to reach. Bruce grinned and asked if I trusted him.

“Of course!” I responded. Then he boosted me up and I crawled through without an issue. As we stood up on the other side, I didn’t feel upside down – I felt right-side up. But when I looked back through the hole, the world we came from now looked upside down. I turned to ask Bruce what this was all about, but at that moment my morning alarm went off, and I was instantly awake.

Normally, I hop right out of bed when my alarm goes off without a problem, but on this particular morning, my initial reaction was “Noooo… I want to go back to sleep. I want to go back to that dream.” That was not possible – I knew that. So instead, I found myself smiling and saying “thank you” as I dressed for work. Thank you for a wonderful dream… Thank you for a wonderful night.

At one time, all of my dreams for the future were wrapped up with Bruce… That is the way of relationships, and it was wonderful. We dreamed of the days when we could laugh, play and hang out together… While he was alive we both worked, so that day was on Sundays. It was our day. We never made plans without the other one an were okay with that… We knew we only had a few more years until retirement… Then our dreams to spend more time playing would really happen.

But that isn’t how our story went…

Bruce died… and now, those dreams are only in my dreams… I don’t have these dreams often – only a few times a year – but when I do, I feel all the same hope… All the carefree feelings that dreams are made of are mine again for a few brief moments.

I remember when Bruce died. I read so many articles about people who never dream of their loved ones and were frustrated. I think I would be frustrated too, so I am extremely grateful for my dreams. I also read about others who dreamed of their loved ones and felt like a “message” was being delivered. I can’t say there have been any messages… at least not in words.

If anything, perhaps Bruce just wants me to remember to have fun… to not get so caught up in all the serious stuff of life that I forget to actually live my life… To accept life one beautiful moment at a time and enjoy whatever that moment has to offer before I move to the next one.

So what do you do when your life dreams become your dreams? For me, I will simply remain thankful that these have been my dreams at all…

What about you? Did you or have you ever dreamed of your loved one? 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

Peace, Love and Grief… The grief of a child

Like a Child
Like a child wandering in a dark house… lost.
I go from room to room searching for you.
You are not here.
I am alone.
I sit in the corner – lost, afraid, crying.
Where are you?
Where is the light?
Will I always be here alone and scared?
~ Linda, January 13, 2014

When Bruce passed away, my world crumbled in that moment… so did so many other people’s… all those who love Bruce suddenly had a huge hole in our lives. There was one little guy, though, whose world also was crumbled but who was too small to express himself… that was our grandson. He and Bruce had such an amazing bond. From the first time, Bruce held him, and his little Boudreaux stopped crying, Bruce was hooked… and so was his Boudreaux.

Whenever those two were together, whether they were swimming, watching football, playing video games or on the boat, they were inseparable. They were “best buds,” and little Boudreaux could do no wrong in his Papa’s eyes.

When Bruce died, his little Boudreaux took it hard… harder than most of us realized at first. He was only 3 1/2 years old… too young to completely understand… too young to be able to put his questions, thoughts and feelings into words. For a short time, he even developed a stutter (which is actually quite normal for young children struggling with loss).

The first time he came to our house after Bruce’s death, he went looking for Bruce – either not understanding or convinced that Bruce was really here somewhere. He talked about missing Papa (still does) and how Papa is in heaven now. He and I finally decided that Papa must be his guardian angel (and always by his side). This seemed to bring him some comfort. However, it was still hard to watch him struggle… we all wanted to protect him from the pain that seemed too much for such a little guy. However, that was not the path we chose because…

As it turns out, in the books I read to work through my own grief, I learned that most of us learn how to grieve in our childhood. Here is what I mean…

As children we experience a variety of different losses, most of them are not considered “earth shattering” to an adult’s perspective, such as the loss of a favorite toy, loss of a security toy/blanket, loss of a pet, loss of a friendship, etc. However, to a child, these can actually be just as devastating as any “adult” loss. Why? Because these are “new” feelings and emotions, and children lack any type of perspective or ability to handle on their own. This must be learned.

When a child experiences any of these, and the adult(s) around them expects them to “get over it,” “stop making a big deal out of nothing,” “stop crying – tears won’t change anything,” “grow up,” or similar expectations, the child is taught not to express or work through the emotions of loss. Or, as well-meaning as it may be, sometimes the adult(s) will try to talk the child out of being sad by pointing out things to be happy about… Either way, the child is taught not to express or work through their emotions from the loss.

For the majority of the western world, this seems to be “standard practice.” Therefore, when we experience loss even as adults, this same attitude surrounds us, both from within ourselves and from the people the around us… It is what we know… It is how we respond… But it is not healthy.

In fact, that attitude is what made me feel so completely isolated for so long after Bruce died. Some of that attitude came from the world around me, and I was left feeling angry and resentful. However, most of that attitude came from within myself… I found I had to work through past losses that were pushed aside, before I could really and truly grieve the man I love in a healthy manner.

So how do we change this cycle? We start with the children… We allow children who experience loss to grieve and work through it, starting with the “simple” things. Then, when something bigger happens, a loss that is truly devastating, the tools are in place to work through the pain.

I am not saying that these are the only ways to do this, but these are the ways that have worked with my grandson through the years as he has dealt with the loss of his Papa and the other losses that life throws his way.

First and foremost, before Bruce passed away, we read books about loss to Boudreaux. Some of my favorites are the Berenstain Bears books and the Little Critter books. Because both series deal with the “normal losses” of childhood, they created a basis for conversations with our little guy about loss using situations or fears he already understood.

Another tactic we learned meant no longer trying to “talk him out of feeling sad.” We let him know that it is okay to feel what he feels, and it is okay to talk about it… We don’t mind listening. Don’t misunderstand, I am not talking about whining or have a temper tantrum. I am referring to loss, pain and genuine feelings that come from loss. These are different and a child should learn those differences, as well.

If our grandson doesn’t feel like talking, he also has a journal. (Because of his age, this is actually an artist’s sketch pad.) This is where he can write and/or draw whatever he is feeling. It is his, and it is private. If he wants to share it with us that is fine. If not, that is also fine… It is up to him.

Finally, when he is completely overwhelmed and wants to be alone, we let him. There are times when he simply goes to his room and shuts the door… sometimes he cries, sometimes he writes or draws. While it is hard to let him go there alone, we know he is developing the tools he needs to work through this stuff… and sometimes that requires solitude and reflection.

As his grandmother, it breaks my heart when I watch him struggle with the pain of loss. I know what it feels like, and I want to take that pain away… I want to fix it… but I don’t. Instead, I remain close by for support but…

I wait… I wait and let him do the work he needs to do because I know that is what is truly best for the grief of a child.

What about you? Have you had to help a child work through their grief? What worked for you? 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Going home

The month of May was a crazy one – filled with one trip after another. The month didn’t start that way… I didn’t plan it that way. Normally I would never fill every single weekend with a trip. (Mainly because it would be too exhausting.) However, as each opportunity presented itself, I found myself wanting to go… so I did.

One weekend was spent with a dear friend celebrating her upcoming birthday. Another was spent in Mississippi with one of my daughters and my grandson. And another was spent at a family reunion in honor of my daughter and son-in-law visiting from England.

If you are counting, though, you will realize there are two weekends unaccounted for… Those two weekends had actually been planned for months. It was my first trip back to Michigan… back to our home since before Bruce passed away.

To say I was nervous about returning would be an understatement… Michigan is where we first told each other we loved each other, where we shared our first home, and where our lives changed forever.

While we moved away from Michigan over 6 years ago, we usually went back about once a year to visit our family and enjoy a short break from the summer heat of Florida. On our last trip in July of 2012, we attended Bruce’s annual family reunion and spent time with both our daughters and Bruce’s grandaughter. Neither of us had any idea that trip would be our last one together.

However, six months later, Bruce passed away… For years, the idea of going back to Michigan (going back home), seemed too hard. While I love being here in our home and our space in Florida, I couldn’t quite bring myself to travel back to the place where we started.

However, I decided this was the year to go back.

I spent the first few hours enjoying my daughter – catching up and laughing with each other. The next few days were spent as a girls’ weekend with my soul sisters and my daughter. These days were wonderful and filled with tons of love and laughter. Then, Monday and Tuesday was spent in my old office – visiting and working with my former coworkers and friends.

Up to this point everything was fine. I hadn’t been anywhere yet that was significant to Bruce and I so there was nothing too emotional. The next three days, however, were dedicated to exactly that. With my daughter at my side, I had a list of a few very specific places I wanted to visit.

The first place I wanted to see was our first home together. I remember when my daughter and I first moved into Bruce’s home, I thought it looked like a ski lodge. (I still do… and I love it!) As soon as we pulled up, a thousand sweet, precious memories came flooding back – from the night my daughter and I first arrived, to snowball fights that found their way into the house, to nights spent cooking and dancing in our tiny, little kitchen, to evenings spent watching summer sunsets from our deck. This home was sold long ago so we couldn’t go inside. But we did walk around the building, sharing some of our favorite stories from those years.

Our next stop was a small lake with miles and miles of hiking trails. The first time I ever went there was with Bruce. He woke me up one Sunday mornin and told me he had a gift for me – but not one in a box… something better… something much better.

It was springtime and Michigan was finally starting to warm up after my first long winter. When we pulled into the parking lot, I smiled. He had just given me a great gift!.. A place where I could spend hours outside just breathing and enjoying life. We spent hours walking that day, simply enjoying nature and each other. In fact, every year when we would visit from Florida, we always made time for a morning or afternoon hike around “our” lake.

From there, we went to the small restaurant nearby where Bruce and I had our wedding reception dinner. When we were married I was too busy trying to get moved to Michigan, so Bruce had planned everything, even our reception dinner here. It was such a quaint lodge restaurant and our table for the evening was right in front of the fireplace… always my favorite spot! It was absolutely perfect.

When my daughter and I arrived, it was the middle of the afternoon. The dining area was closed so we sat at the bar, enjoying some wine and chatting. However, before we left, I explained why I was there and obtained permission to go into the dining room to spend a few minutes just sitting at that table, remembering those precious hours spent celebrating our marriage and our love. Yes… I cried, but I am so glad I got to sit there once again and remember…

Our last stop of the day was actually one stop with two places I wanted to visit. The first is a local icon, The Corner Bar, which is actual famous for its hotdogs. In fact, the walls are lined with the names of people who have “survived” their Hot Dog challenge… and no – Bruce’s name is not there! LOL! Personally, I hate hot dogs, but Bruce loved them. So, this crazy place was not only his favorite go-to restaurant, it was one of the first places he took me on my first trip to Michigan. On this particular trip, however, I still couldn’t manage to eat a hot dog (even in his honor), so a basket of fried pickles had to do. But it was wonderful to just sit there and take it all in… and remember.

The second half of this stop was the local river and dam. Bruce and I spent so many summer evenings sitting on a blanket here, enjoying a picnic dinner and their Summer Blues by the River series. This was also my favorite “thinking spot” whenever I had something to figure out or just needed some space. As my daughter and I walked across the dam, I smiled as I looked back on the whole day… and what a great day it had been.

On our last night, we were able to spend another evening with Bruce’s family. It was so much fun to just sit and laugh and share stories. This family will always amaze me! The fact that they still love and include me, my kids and my grandson in their lives is a testament to the love we share… and the legacy of Bruce.

This was my first trip home in four years. For the first time, I experienced Michigan without the man who brought me there. How did it feel to go home alone? Well…

I smiled… and I cried… It was wonderful to remember how blessed I was to have lived here and how my whole life changed in this place…

But mostly I was so, very glad to be in this place once again… To experience and remember this space where Bruce and I shared so much love just a few years ago.

What about you? Have you ever had that experience of going back home after your loss? How was that? Or are you still waiting to make that trip? 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