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Peace, Love and Grief… Feeling abandoned

Abandoned: having been deserted or cast off… me…

From the beginning, grief has been a journey of many emotions… some conflicting, (which has left me feeling a bit crazy at times). But throughout these 2.5 years, “abandoned” has been my prevalent, on-going emotion. I have felt it since day one and still feel it to this day. Abandoned by Bruce… abandoned by God… abandoned by others… alone.

For those who are just starting on this journey and for those who have never been here, the emotions are strong; the emotions are real… but emotions have nothing to do with logic. To give you an idea, here is my journal entry two weeks after Bruce died:

January 27
Still here… still alone. I can’t help but feel that even God has abandoned me. I know – that makes me horrible, doesn’t it? But how could he give me 23 years with a man that hated me (and still does) but only 8 years with a man that loved me so completely? Someone told me that God allowed (or caused) the abuse with (my 1st husband) because of my sin. It hurt when it was said even though I didn’t believe it then. But now, I wonder…

God must not love me after all. But I don’t really understand… Out of everyone in the world, why can’t he love me?… Why can’t he forgive me, too?

Maybe I am wrong – maybe this is the grief talking. But I don’t understand… why Bruce? How can a God who loves me allow so much hurt? Why? Am I such a bad person?

This feels so wrong, so surreal. Life goes on around me, but I can’t seem to move. In order to move, I have to pretend that everything is fine and shove all the emotions down. I know people are uncomfortable with my grief, so I try really hard to hide it until I am alone. Then, I cry.

I go back to work tomorrow… that feels so scary. How do I do something so normal when my life has been thrown upside down? I feel like everyone who knows is watching me to see if I will fall apart. And for those who don’t know – I want to shout at them to stop… life needs to stop… because my life stopped when Bruce died. I want the whole world to stop for just one moment to honor him… to recognize that he is gone.

How do I ever feel happy – truly happy – again? I just want to crawl in a hole. It takes everything in me to get out of the bed. I can’t sleep… instead I lay there, imagining he is still there, too… still holding me…

There are a lot of thoughts and feelings that I don’t tell anyone. They won’t understand. They already spend so much energy trying to make me “not sad.” That doesn’t make me mad, but it doesn’t really work either. It just makes me want to be alone – to get inside my own head with my own thoughts. Then, I can imagine him still here. Oh my God, I need him so much!

I don’t think I can do this… it is too hard… too much is expected and all I want is to be with Bruce again – to love him and feel him next to me…
but that is something I can never have again… I am alone now.

That was 2.5 years ago… the feelings were so intense then. I can’t say they are gone now… they aren’t – they are still here… but the intensity is less. Some weeks are harder than others and some days are harder than others… this week has been both.

At work, things are changing quickly… many of my friends have moved on to new jobs. At home, my closest friends are planning to move within the year. On a rational level, I am so happy for all of them… Their lives are moving on as they should. However, on a personal level, I am faced with that overwhelming feeling of abandonment, once again.

This week I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz when she says, “People come and go so quickly here.”

I hate these feelings. This week, I have found myself wanting to do what I always do – pull inside… hide or run away emotionally.

Instead, I am pushing myself to stay in the game. I am trying really hard to stay strong. The problem is – I don’t feel strong and there are very few people I trust enough to be honest about how I feel. I would give anything to have someone who loves me – who cares about me – to hold me… no words… Just take me in their arms, let me lay my head on their shoulder and cry.

But that isn’t going to happen… not today. So instead, I will smile and tell you I am fine…

They say it gets easier,
But it doesn’t.
The pain is still there,
Still strong, barely contained below the surface.
Waiting for that moment…
The moment when I am unprepared –
When I relax for a second.
And there it is, pouring out…
As tears slide down my cheeks;
And the pain is so great it is physically debilitating.
But I’m not allowed to show it.
No one wants to see it or hear it anymore.
I can only turn to myself for comfort.
There are no arms to hold me;
No gentle touch to wipe my tears.
No words of love or comfort.
Just my memories of us…
And the awful knowledge that
This is all too real.
~ Linda, Oct 12, 2014

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.

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Peace, Love and Grief… Remembering to be grateful

“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 8, 2014

Within the first week of losing Bruce, I started keeping a journal… something I have never done before. Over the last 2.5 years, I have rarely missed a day writing in it. Over time, it has evolved in a very long letter to Bruce – my way of still sharing my life with him.

This 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. But 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 time” each day and the healing I feel after.

Within the first couple of months, I added a section to my journal each day simply called, “Blessings.” That is exactly what goes there… No matter how down I feel, no matter how bad the day has been, I make myself list at least five blessings from that day… Five things for which I am grateful. Some days I have to really stretch to think of five things. On those days, things as simple as “the sun was shining today” or “I got out of bed when I didn’t feel like it” may be all I can come up with. But the point isn’t what I write… the point is remembering to be grateful.

When Bruce was alive, I didn’t have to put any effort into being grateful… it was easy. It had taken us 44 years to find each other. That was such a miracle for both of us, and we were thankful for that miracle every day… Even on days when we were annoying each other. : ) Remembering and finding things to be grateful for after Bruce passed has not been so easy and has not come naturally. Why? Because when you are grieving it is so easy to get caught up in what you have lost rather than what you still have.

Many times when I write this blog, I talk about things that have hurt or frustrated me on this journey. Today, however, I want to say thank you to the many people who have ended up in my list of “Blessings” throughout the years.

(Keep in mind, this could end up being dangerous because I don’t want to inadvertently leave anyone out. Please be patient with me if I do and know that every act of kindness has meant the world to me, but this old brain is stretching back over 2.5 years.)

Blessings:
* My sister who slept right beside me that first week and held my hand all night, every night.
* My parents who came right away to do what they knew to do… cooking tons of food and making repairs/updates to the house to make it safer for me to be here alone.
* Bruce’s family who have remained an active part of my life… who check on me consistently, love me and include me still in everything “family.” Their unconditional love has been a gift I can never repay.
* My neighbors who have befriended and love me, invited me to their family get-togethers, hang out with me most weekends, and act as my personal body/security guards.
* My girlfriends from work who have driven all the way out here to be by my side while I filed endless paperwork at the courthouse (and I was terrified to go alone), check on me when I’m not there and have spent many lunches listening to me try to figure this out, without ever judging me.
* My friend who bought Bruce’s truck (even though she didn’t need it) and has driven it to work every now and then just so I could see it and sit in it if I wanted.
* My friend who drove out here and spent an entire Saturday cleaning up Bruce’s boat so I could sell it after it sat idle for over a year.
* My brother in law for his help with all the probate shenanigans.
* My son in law for all the repairs and upgrades he has done on this house so I didn’t have to hire a stranger.
* My friends from work who never fail to give me a hug whenever I need one (which is quite often).
* My bosses over the 2.5 years who have shown more support and understanding than I could have ever thought possible.
* My life coach for reminding me how to do more than merely survive.
* My childhood friend who suggested I write this blog.
* My friends across this country who have publicly and privately sent me messages of love and support.

But most of all…

* My four kids and my grandson who have been there with me every step of the way – crying with me, hugging me, listening to me, making sure I am not alone for holidays or specials days… reminding me that life goes on and it’s okay to smile again…

And I know… That’s what Bruce would want too.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Another First

How do I live without your love?
One breath at a time…
~ Linda, December 28, 2013

After 2.5 years, I thought I had hit all the “firsts” associated with losing Bruce. However, this week I find myself facing another. My 35th high school reunion is this weekend. I’ve only been to one other… 5 years ago, when I attended my 30th reunion.

I went alone back then because Bruce had to work. However, going alone when you are married and madly in love with your husband is very different than going alone as a widow. To say I am feeling intimidated would be a huge understatement.

Don’t get me wrong… I was also nervous five years ago. In high school, I had been the straight-A nerdy kid who sat quietly in the front row. I had not been in contact with most of my classmates and I had no idea what to expect. Going alone was nerve-racking but Bruce helped instill such a “you-can-do-this” attitude (plus one of my daughters traveled and stayed in the hotel with me), so I didn’t mind pushing myself past my comfort zone.

I am so glad I did, because I had a blast! Five years ago, I met people I had never hung out with before, but my class seems to be a tight-knit group and everyone was wonderful!

When the talk on Face Book started about this reunion, I decided right away, I wasn’t going… not alone… not as a widow. I convinced myself that (a) I was too busy to spend 14 hours driving just to spend a few hours spent at a reunion; (b) I didn’t need to spend the money, etc. This list went on and on. (I can be the queen of excuses when I choose to be.)

Then, life started nudging me. The excitement between my classmates on Face Book started growing. (And I remembered how much fun I had five years ago.) Somehow in the class I am training this week, reunions came up. In the conversation, I mentioned mine and stated I wasn’t going. When they asked why, I tried to explain myself to this group of young adults and found myself stumbling… I didn’t really have a good reason.

After all, as a life coach and mentor, I knew exactly what I was doing. I was avoiding… I was running away – something I always do when I am down-to-my-core scared…

What was I scared of? Scared of going alone, scared of being treated different, scared of not fitting in, scared of being left on the edge – looking in – watching everyone else have fun… just plain scared of the whole thing.

Let me explain.

I’ve learned to go lots of places alone – most places actually. Sometimes that turns out okay and sometimes it is downright bad. It seems to depend on the connection I have with the people I am with. Sometimes I am treated like everyone else and I have a blast. Other times, there is an awkward energy and I feel like a fifth wheel. What if this is one of those awkward times? What if…

I know it probably sounds silly. But even so, these feelings are real… I have to deal with them. If I am honest; if I want to keep growing and moving forward, I need to face my fears, not run away from them… again. I’ve been working on this since Bruce passed… and here it is again.

So you know what I did, right?

I called my son and asked if he wanted to take a weekend trip with me! LOL! Yep, I’m going… but I’m taking some support. I don’t need him to go to the reunion. I just need him close by in case I need a hug… or a shove. : )

Yes… I am well aware that I needed Bruce to be close by on my first KW trip, and my daughter on my first class reunion… and now my son on my first reunion as a widow. I’m okay with that… The bottom line is I’m going. That is huge right now!

And now, the rest of the story…

So I went… I can’t say it was the best night of my life, (no one’s fault… just my own nerves) but it wasn’t the worst either. My son was great encouragement before I left… offering several times to go with me since I was so anxious. As tempting as his offer was, I knew I needed to do this alone. So off I went…

Pushing myself out of the car was a little hard, but I did it. I walked in alone, and I waited in the line alone. I talked to a couple of people, but I couldn’t find my group of friends I was supposed to meet there. Over an hour passed. I felt so out of place… and I started to lose it.

I could feel the tears behind my eyes. What was I thinking? Why did I think this was a good idea? I decided to leave and walked out to my car.

Once safely inside and away from public view, the tears flowed… I couldn’t stop them. All I could think was how much I hate this. I hate the way I feel without Bruce… I hate the way my self-confidence can plummet for no reason at all.

I can’t tell you why, but as I sat there, I started coaching myself… I started telling myself the things I would tell my clients. I won’t go into detail, but within 15 – 20 minutes, the tears were done, and I was headed back inside with a new attitude.

I still felt conspicuous… I still felt like people were staring at me like I have 2 heads, but I just smiled, said hi and kept plowing on. I approached people and talked to them instead of waiting for them to approach me. (NOT my comfort zone!) And, thankfully, it didn’t too long until I found my friends. : ) (Yay!) The rest of the night was spent laughing with my high school girl friends.

My victory? I stayed. I didn’t run away. (That was HUGE!) And I not only survived, I proved something to myself…

When I remember to have faith in myself, I am stronger than I think.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Here comes the sun

For most of this week I remained in the same sad mode I was in last week. That isn’t normal… Usually I shake it off after a day or so. I’m not sure why this melancholy mood stuck around… but it did.

It seems weird to me that after 2.5 years, I can still feel so sad… It is a sadness that goes all the way to my core. And sometimes, I am at a loss as to how to shake it.

This week I closed the door to my office to “deal with it”… But that didn’t work. So I opened my door to talk to the world and try to forget… but that didn’t work either. I wrote in my journal, worked in my garden, went to the beach, and played the piano – all in an effort to get it out… but nope – nothing.

It’s been too long to still think anyone wants to listen to me cry. So instead, I tried telling jokes or listening to everyone else’s issues and stories. This week, I celebrated birthdays and new jobs and listened to bad days and arguments… but still this grief and sadness continued.

My kids just happened to be calling more this week. (I guess God put it a bug in their ear on my behalf.) To be honest, they have been my biggest blessing… especially this week. One of my neighbors noticed that my house was staying closed up and came on over to sit with me a while… she, too, has blessed my week more than she will ever know.

I posted on my personal Face Book page that I felt lost… I did. I wasn’t depressed. I was sad… I’m still grieving – There’s a huge difference in my book. Some people get it… others want to fix it. They all mean well, but I’m not broken, so I can’t be fixed. This is a journey, and sometimes I am just looking for some extra support when I am struggling.

Some days I ask God to help me… other days I am mad at him all over again. Is this normal? I don’t know… probably. Who knows what is “normal” when it comes to grief.

The hard part for me is that I don’t have anyone I am particularly close to that has lost a spouse. My parents and Bruce’s parents are both still here. My sister and Bruce’s sisters are still happily married. None of my closest friends or my coach have ever lost a spouse. So many times I find myself wishing my grandmothers were still alive so I could talk to them. They would have some good advice, I’m sure. As it is, I really don’t know who to ask what is normal… so I am lost… and I am very much alone.

I’ve read so many of the books, and there are some great ones out there. I’ve researched grief (because research is whatI do) and found a lot of good solid information. I did the support group thing… and found it wasn’t my thing. (I wasn’t real comfortable sharing my deepest feelings with a room full of strangers… that was a nightmare for me!)

Ultimately, I believe it comes down to this… time. Yep – time. And for anyone grieving the length of time will vary. For some people, it may be a few months; for others, it may take years. We’re all different. This week I discovered that according to research, the average time for a widow to feel strong and ready to move ahead is 12 – 14 years… and that’s an average! Wow! That speaks volumes to me.

What I know for sure is I need to just be patient with myself. I need to stop pushing myself – if I feel sad, then I feel sad. When I feel happy, then (yay) I feel happy. Go with it. Feel what I feel – one moment at a time… just be careful not to drop too low or drag anyone down with me.

Thursday night I stumbled across the video below. I’ve always loved this song and this particular rendition has touched my heart. Since Bruce died I’ve said that there is hope in divorce but not in death, but this song reminds me that there is always hope… as long as I believe in it.

http://jewishstandard.timesofisrael.com/israeli-duos-perfect-here-comes-the-sun/

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

Peace, Love and Grief… What I miss

I smile when I remember you…even through my tears.

~ Linda, October 17, 2013

For the most part, I function in a positive zone… most days, I am okay. I can smile and laugh and live in the moment. However, I still have days where the grief and sadness are dominant… The past few days have been that way. I just feel sad. Plain and simple, I miss Bruce… I miss so many things about my life with him.

This isn’t the same as a pity party… I’m not caught up in feeling sorry for myself. I am accepting of my reality… I am just sad. I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s a difference. I guess the best I can do is to say there is no “poor me” factor involved. I just miss him.

When you lose your partner, you lose more than just a person. That person filled so many roles… so many spaces in your life. I miss all those things. I always say that Bruce was my hero… and he was. He was also my best friend, my rock and my anchor… He brought stability to my life. I have spent most my adulthood going from one crisis to the next, but not with Bruce. Life took on a peace and fullness that I miss as well.

There wasn’t a lot that bothered or irked him. He was a firm believer in letting go and moving forward. I miss that optimism and strength… The idea that whatever had occurred would be okay because of what still lay ahead.

While I am getting used to going places alone, I still hate it. When I’m out with a group, I feel like an extra wheel… that friend that no one quite knows what to do with. I miss going places with him – side by side… always together. I miss sharing those places and experiences with each other.

I miss going out to eat together. We always sat on the same side of the table so we could still hold hands (or snuggle if it was a booth). (Yea – that probably sounds goofy but I loved it!) I miss that he would always order an appetizer while I ordered a full meal. Then when I got full (which was pretty quick), he would finish off mine… always letting me pick what I wanted, then laughing as I pushed my plate toward him after only a few bites.

I miss going to the beach together. We didn’t even talk that much… We both enjoyed the silence as we sat next to each other holding hands and watching the waves or snoozing.

I miss cooking together. There was something fun and romantic about sharing a space that is really meant for one. I also miss the days when one of us cooked (usually him) and the other (usually me) sat at the counter – watching and talking.

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 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 playing games and knowing that he would never just let me win. He might play sports left handed to give me better chance (LOL!) but he was just as competitive as I am. Whoever won had definite bragging rights for days.

I miss having someone who loves me even when I am wrong. Knowing someone has your back, no matter what, is amazing! Whenever I was frustrated with myself, Bruce would just take me in his arms and hold me. He never reiterated my mistakes… I was already well aware of whatever I had done. I just needed to know that someone still loved me… and that it was him. He never left me doubting his love. It was always there…

Now I do all of these things alone… with only memories to fill the space next to me.

Countless research has shown that in a healthy marriage/partnership the partners put each other first… over children, over other family, over careers… over everything else out there. You are each other’s priority. I miss that… I miss having and being a priority.

Don’t get me wrong, I am loved. I know that without a doubt. But I am not (nor should I be) first on anyone’s list. The other side of that is I no longer have that special person in my life to take care of, either. (That is a tough reality.) Without Bruce, I only have me looking out for me… that feels really strange and really wrong.

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.” My experience says he was right.

I don’t think there is an answer for any of this… it is what it is.

This is my journey. Some days the road is smooth and the sun shines… other days the road is hard and I can’t see the sun. 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 ahead… somewhere.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… A Key West lesson

As I start my blog this week, I am sitting on a ferry bound for Key West… one of my absolute favorite places. As I watch the houses and beaches disappear from sight, I smile as I remember how I ever ended up on this annual trek for our girls’ weekend. A weekend of laughs, tears, hugs and deep, late night conversations. In other words, a wonderful time of sharing, bonding and making memories… a weekend that speaks deep to our souls as women and “soul sistas.”

I smile as I remember the first year I was invited to join this group of women I barely knew… Bruce’s 2 sisters, another girlfriend and myself. The others had known each other for years… I was new to the family, a bit introverted and very new to the experience of an accepting group of in-laws. In other words, I was terrified. My inner “Piglet” kicked in with all the fret and worry that makes Piglet famous, and I decided… I wasn’t going.

Bruce, however, felt I should go. He was never one to tell me what to do normally, but he was pretty insistent about this trip. One night after trying to explain the 100 million reasons why I thought it was a bad idea, I was at the point of tears. At a loss, he finally said, “Would you feel better if I went too?”

I perked right up with that! Yes, that would make me feel better but how in the world was he planning on doing that? This was a girls’ weekend… and he definitely was not a girl.

His solution? Total secrecy… we couldn’t tell anyone. He got a hotel room on the other side of the island. Throughout the weekend, we stayed in constant contact through text. I would tell him where we were, and he would always be within a block. If anything went awry, he promised to be my knight in shining armor and come to my rescue.

The weekend was wonderful! I had a blast. I’ve never been with such a loving group of women. Bruce never had to come to my rescue but by just being close by, he had been my hero… once again. I have been coming back every year since… (but without Bruce).

Now move forward in time… The first year after Bruce’s death, I went but it was hard. I was not interested in meeting or talking to people. I wasn’t even interested in laughing or having fun… all things that make KW what it is. I just wanted to sit and watch the world go by.

I remember a few things about that trip… I remember crying (a lot). I remember the girls taking turns sitting with me as the other 3 would go have fun… never once did they leave me alone nor did they make me feel like I was a bother or that they minded “babysitting” me.

I remember whenever I did talk to someone, I always introduced myself as a widow… Now that, my friend, is a conversation stopper like no other! I remember one of our bartender friends down there finally said, “Just keep breathing. One of these days, you will remember who you are as a person… The day will come when you won’t feel the need to always introduce yourself as a widow.”

At the time, I thought he was crazy… what did he know? But as time has passed, I have realized he was right. Now, I introduce myself as “Linda” (period). Yes, I am a widow, but that does not need to be the focus (or start of) every conversation… not now… not anymore.

As I am anticipating the trip this year, I find myself getting a little anxious. I am an introvert… that is my character. I’m not shy… I am friendly and can hold my own in a conversation. But I am not one to seek out that conversation. I am perfectly content to “people watch” and listen.

But my own inner dialogue went to work on making that simple characteristic a negative one… insisting that my public demeanor makes me a wallflower… the invisible friend. The one people are polite to… but only if they notice me. I was convincing myself that I am just a part of the scenary in the eyes of the world… a nobody.

Do you hear me? Do you hear what I was telling myself? I was doing what a lot of people do. I was listening to that voice in my head tell me that I am not good enough as just I am. The same voice Bruce always told me was wrong…. to ignore it. I don’t need to hustle, scramble or change in order to prove my value or worthiness as a person. I am perfectly fine just as I am. The people who add value to my life, will love me and accept me as I am. They do not try to “fix” me…

My soul sistas are a perfect example of that… That is why I love meeting them in KW every year.

As a widow, however, it becomes hard when that voice starts chattering. It can be loud and quite insistent, and there is no one to tell you any different. That is where I found myself when Bruce died and the volume on that voice increased greatly.

My grief journey, this widowhood, has re-created a loss of self-esteem and self-confidence that I haven’t felt in years. I’m not sure why; it just has. There is something self-defeating in the constant loneliness when the other half of your soul is gone… There is no longer that loving person to lean on or turn to when the days are rough or the nights are dark and long.

And without that person in your life anymore, you must find your strength within you.

As I was writing in my journal this morning, I realized that is where I am… searching for that strength within me – not searching for it from outside myself. I know that was one of the reasons Bruce always wanted me to take this trip. He wanted me to realize that I could just be me (completely me) and still have fun, especially when I am with people who accept me. But even more important, this is true when I can trust and accept myself.

This isn’t easy, nor does it come naturally… not for me. But I can assure you it is true.

This evening, as I return to write the last part of the story, I am back on the ferry and on my way home. This year’s trip is over and I have learned so much. I know without a doubt, we all have something within us that can create feelings of inadequacy… But our job is to not give that voice any power.

At one point this weekend, the four of us talked about that voice and the damage we can allow it to do. We talked about the fact that in order to be a whole person, we have to be look for that love and acceptance within ourselves, because we will never discover our own strength within someone else. We have to love and accept ourselves in order to offer our own unique gifts to the world.

I miss Bruce. I miss his love and I miss his companionship. I even miss his support and the security he offered. But in my core, I know my value didn’t (and still doesn’t) come from him… it comes from within myself. He taught me that a long time ago…

When Bruce died and my world turned upside down, I forgot it for a while. But as time passes, I am learning to love and trust myself again. I am learning that God made me as I am for a reason… I owe no apologies for that, nor should I try to be someone else. I just need to breathe, be comfortable with myself and be true to myself… without any self-doubt.

THEN, I can go out in the world and have FUN living the life I am meant to live.

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. Tell us what lessons or epiphanies you have had. 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Losing it “all”

This week’s blog is another look at a different type of loss… material loss. This can involve varying degrees of loss… but like any other type – it is still loss… and it is still scary.

When my first marriage ended, my children and I literally ran away with nothing more than the clothes on our backs. Let me explain… I knew we needed to leave; I was making plans. I had seen an attorney, and was following her instructions concerning copies of documents I would need and eventually, finding a very public place to tell him I was leaving. (The more public, hopefully, the less explosive his reaction.)

However, life doesn’t always go according to plan and one morning things escalated too far. When the kids and I left for school that morning, I knew we weren’t coming back… I, also, knew I was walking away from the security of a home and the financial ability to provide for my children.

Things seem to have a way of falling into place or happening for a reason, because during the 3 years of divorce proceedings, God provided. My husband was deemed (by the court) unable to handle the finances, so I was put in charge of everything until an agreement was reached on how to split the property. During that time, the court gave me a budget which allowed me to provide for my kids, and we were also allowed to stay in the home… Both huge blessings that I never expected.

As I’ve mentioned before, in order to settle on an agreement, the majority of the money went to my ex-husband in exchange for my full and complete custody of the children. At the time, I wasn’t too worried. As long as we could sell our home, there would be enough money (if invested properly) to supplement my teaching income and create a livable wage.

However, even when I thought I had it all figured out, God had a dfferent plan. I invested the money with a “family friend” who almost immediately embezzled every dime. We lost it all… I found myself a single mother of four with nothing… Quite frquently I was choosing between putting food on the table or heating my home – choices that no one should ever have to make.

Jump ahead… with the support of people I love, I managed to start again and move ahead. I learned that I could do things I never would have dreamed I could do… and all because I had to – I did not see another choice.

Now I live in a small, quiet town. I love it here… Bruce and I built our home here. I feel drawn to this place, and my life here is peace-filled. But this town has seen some very tough economic times over the past few years. As a result, we have our homeless men, women and children living among us.

Many people don’t see them… as if they are just a part of the scenary as one moves past. But they are there… If you look closely, they are at the gas stations, in front of our stores, on the exit ramps from the highway and in many cases, living in the woods.

They are people… And at one time, they were our neighbors. They, too, lost it all but their story (so far) is without a happy ending. At the time Bruce died, in this area, there were over 600,000 homeless men, women and children. Of that number, 1/4 are children. As I write this, recent research shows that 1 out of 4 children in our state are homeless… That is staggering!

But this is not a political speech or a sermon. I just want people to understand how easily and quickly people can find themselves without…. without food, without a home… without anything. I know because (as I just explained), I was almost there as well. So many times I think, “There but for the grace of God, go I….” *

These thoughts are brought home to me every year in an event called “Stand Down.” This event takes place yearly around the country, and in our town is sponsored by the Disabled American Veterans (DAV) . It is intended for our homeless veterans but no one is turned away. It is a one day event in which the homeless from several counties are offered food and clothing. On top of that, our homeless vets are offered such services as health screenings and benefits counseling.

The best part of the day (for me) is volunteering to be an escort for the day. I originally volunteered because I felt so blessed to have (barely) escaped this same fate so I wanted to give back. However, what I have learned and taken away spiritually is so much more.

As the homeless come into the center, an escort greets them. We spend the day with them… we eat meals with them, help them find what they need but most important, we are their friend… We talk to them and listen to their stories (which, but the way, are eerily familiar).

Originally, I went with the intention of helping them… of making a change in their world. But I find that I have gained so much more than I have given. I have learned so much from these people…

We might say these people have “lost it all.” But have they? I have learned the true strength of the human soul and find myself wondering if I could be half as brave as these individuals if I had ended up in their shoes. For years, I have watched these people take only what they absolutely need no matter how much is offered. I have watched them share with each other without hesitation or resentment.

I have learned that they are smart, funny, kind, brilliant, humble, and courageous… they are human… and they are us… all of us…

I guess what I am trying to say is through all of this, I have learned a few things about “losing it all”… Stuff is stuff; it comes and goes and can be replaced again. But it is the relationships and people in our lives that matter and make life worth living. So, as long as we never lose our human connections and relationships with each other, we really haven’t “lost it all.”

* Credited to John Bradford

I Met a Man
I met a man without a home
And yet, he smiled.
He looked me in the eye
And shook my hand.
He did not ask for anything –
Yet he needed everything.
He did not complain –
But I wouldn’t have blamed him.
Could I have done the same?
We talked and laughed
And spent the day together.
My goal had been to help him.
But when the day was over,
I was the one who had been changed.
I was the one who had been blessed.
And all because,
I met a man without a home.

~ Linda, September 21, 2013

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

Peace, Love and Grief… We choose who we are

It was a typical Monday a few weeks ago and I was on my way to work at the the ridiculous hour of 6 AM. I had stopped at a local gas station for some caffeine, and while paying, the clerk asked the “required” question, “How are you today?” I smiled and responsed, “Fabulous! How about you?” He laughed and said anyone who could be fabulous so early on a Monday morning must have been sent to make HIS day better, too. We both laughed, and I walked out the door to continue my day.

That conversation is becoming more common these days. While it was definitely typical before Bruce passed, it was not typical for the first 2 years after he died. I was not fabulous and I just couldn’t fake it…

In the very beginning, I was in such shock that I don’t really remember a whole lot of what was happening. I have a few sketchy memories that let me know, I was breathing… but not functional. For example, the day after Bruce died (or the one after that), I was sitting on the couch by his Dad just staring at nothing… trying to just focus on breathing and not falling completely apart. When his Dad spoke up, “Are you going to contact a funeral home?”

Me – Do I need to?

Dad – Yes, you need to make arrangements for him.

He was right and he said with love, but it was horrible to hear. I didn’t want to do it… That would make everything way too real. I knew nothing about death and funerals and all the things I needed to do. I am sure the people around me must have helped and given me direction, but I don’t remember… I was lost somewhere deep inside myself.

I must have given the appearance of being fine because less than 2 weeks later, I was alone again. Rather than sit alone and stare at the walls, I went back to work. While it was good for me to be with people (my co-workers were wonderful), I can’t really say how productive I was… I can’t remember. I do remember looking out my office window (a lot)… it overlooks a major highway in our city and every semi-truck that passed brought a new round of tears. That’s where Bruce was supposed to be… I didn’t want to face this “new normal”… I couldn’t accept it as real.

If you are grieving and you remember these feelings… you are very normal and so am I. It is called shock (or grief brain). If you have watched someone going through this and thought they have lost their mind – they haven’t.
I’m not a doctor or a scientist but it was explained to me this way: The pain of losing someone we love can be so intense that the body will go into a protective mode by shutting down small parts of the brain until the person is better able to deal with the situation.

This initial shock usually lasts about 3 – 4 months. That is another issue… At the 3 – 4 month point, most of the people who have been checking in on you disappear from the scene. It is like clockwork, and every mourner I have spoken to has experienced it at about the same point. So here you are – the shock of your loss and a new life is wearing off… and the people who are still available to help you through it are few.

At this point, I found myself pulling in even further. I was so scared… I didn’t want to burn out the few people still listening and holding me while I cried… (Although, I probably did anyway.) I was completely lost and had no idea how to move forward. Breathing seemed to be the only “do-able” thing on the agenda.

That was then… so how did I get where I am now? Like turning the Titanic, it has been a long and slow process… and I am still working on it day to day.

Somewhere after the first 10 months, I met a wonderful life coach. She helped me realize that while I can’t control everything that happens in my world, I can control how I respond. Is it really that easy? No – not by a long shot! It is probably the hardest thing I have ever done… and I have to do it every single day.

You see, every morning when I wake up, I reach out… and next to me, I find emptiness. Each morning, I am reminded once again that Bruce is gone. This is real, and this is my life. This is my first choice of the day. I could fall apart at that point… I used to… and honestly, there are still some days when I STILL do.

But the majority of the time, I ask myself the same questions my dear friend and coach asked me a couple of years ago, “How do you think you are showing up for the rest of the world?” and “Is that how you want to show up?”

While they sound so simple, those are some pretty deep questions. I want to be honest about my experience and who I am now but I don’t want to bring the rest of the world down – I don’t want to be pitied or be a burden. Somehow, there needs to be a balance between being a positive part of society while still being honest and genuine.

I know how I want to show up… I want to be a positive part of other people’s day. (I don’t want to drag them down.) When I finally leave this world, I want to feel that I left it a little better than when I came in… I want to believe I made a positive difference to someone. But, I know I can’t do that if I am leaving sadness in my wake wherever I go.

I think for me, one of the biggest turning points came when I heard two mourners talking one day. One made the comment, “We can’t help the way we are, we didn’t ask for this. It’s not our fault and we can’t control it. The rest of the world can just deal with us.” She was right – we didn’t ask for this and it’s not our fault. But I realized she was also wrong – we can help it… we may not be able to control our grief every moment of every day, but we can certainly do our best to be our best.

More and more often lately, I hear how “strong” I am… I laugh inside because I’m not – at least I don’t feel strong. These two questions present a daily choice for me that isn’t easy or natural at this point in my journey… “Who do I want to be today?”

Some days I am better at the answer than other days… but I won’t give up. I refuse to be a “victim” of my circumstances. I refuse to let my grief control the rest of my life and who I am. I am determined to choose how I will live each day. I am determined to live as honestly and positively as possible, because ultimately… it really is up to me.

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. Your experience may have been completely different. Please share it with us by going to the comments and leaving 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Growing accustomed to the loneliness

There is a song from the musical, My Fair Lady** that goes like this:

I’ve grown accustomed to her face
She almost makes the day begin
I’ve grown accustomed to the tune
That she whistles night and noon
Her smiles, her frowns
Her ups, her downs
Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out, breathing in
I was serenely independent and content before we met
Surely I could always be that way again and yet
I’ve grown accustomed to her looks
Accustomed to her voice
Accustomed to her face**

Well, change the “She’s” and “Her’s” to “He’s” and “His” and that seems to be my dilemma. Bruce seems to always be in my thoughts… always a part of of me. In so many ways that is comforting, but it also creates a loneliness that I can’t seem to shake – no matter how hard I try to pretend it isn’t there.

I’ve spent the past 4 weeks with family. It has been craziness and chaos compared to my “normal” life… in other words, it has been wonderful! Don’t misunderstand, even with the commotion of a 5 year old boy (“Almost six, GG!”), I have had my moments of loneliness and grief. The difference is the fun and love-filled distractions that I have felt.

This week, though, it was time for them to go home… now it is quiet… overwhelmingly quiet… deafening quiet… a quiet that is completely filled with loneliness. It is a time of readjusting (again) to my “new normal.”
Only it’s not so new… why do I still feel so lonely. I’ve always been one to cherish my “alone time”… It’s where I regroup and gather my energy. But this is different… There is no choice in this and there is no end. It is what will always be.

Have you ever driven through Kansas? It doesn’t matter what road you are on, it all looks the same. It goes on and on… and on – no turns; no change in scenery. That is what this loneliness feels like… no matter how far down the road I look, it is the same… there appears to be no hope for anything different.

Today my eyes kept leaking… I was determined not to cry but the tears were just as determined to find their way down my cheeks. I just miss him.

I miss his smile and the way his eyes literally sparkled whenever he was happy. I miss just laying in his arms, looking into his eyes and talking. I miss watching him BBQ on the porch in his barefeet while dancing. I miss his kisses to start each morning and his hugs at the end of a rough day. I miss holding hands in the car and while we watched TV. I miss cooking together on Sunday nights and feeding each other as we worked together. I miss it all… all those little things that you grow accustomed to… All those things that are no more… All those things that will never be again.

Now the challenge is how to grow accustomed to this loneliness. It has been 2.5 years. Most people just assume I am “over it.” Only my closest friends and my kids can tell when it is a rough day. The rest of the world has done what it should – it has moved on… why can’t I?

Why do I still want him to be here when I walk through the door? Why (every morning) do I still look beside me in the bed to see if he is there? Does anyone ever really grow accustomed to this? Or do we just get really good at pretending? I remember my grandmother lived another 20 years after my grandfather died. Even then, she would have days where she would wear his sweater because she “needed to feel him hugging her.” I know that feeling…

This week is a struggle but unlike when Bruce first died, now I know that I will grow accustomed to this loneliness (this unending quiet) again. I know that I will smile again… I will laugh again. I will have good days and bad days… again. (Hopefully, more good ones than bad.) I have no expectations from other people at this point. That would be ridiculous… life moves on, and they all have other needs – other concerns. This is my journey… my story. I have to figure this one out.

Until then, my eyes may leak a little more than I want them to, and people may tell me I am too emotional… That’s okay. I am still moving forward… I am still making progress.

I am still growing accustomed to the loneliness…

Do you also know this feeling? Have you been where I am? 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 or just sharing an emotion can make us feel validated and bring us closer.

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

** “I’ve Grown Accustomed To Her Face” was written by Alan Jay Lerner; Frederick Loewe

Peace, Love and Grief… A Tribute to a Father

His Love

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

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

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

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

After the divorce, I wasn’t looking for anyone – I wasn’t interested in a relationship. When I met Bruce, though, there was an instant connection, and we were married 10 months later. However, because we were 1000 miles apart, there had not been much opportunity for my kids to get to know him very well. They had met him and knew who he was, but they didn’t really know him… not yet.

I so badly wanted things to work for our new family so I started researching and reading everything I could find on step-parenting and blended families. Everything I read said it would take at least 2 years for our family to develop our new roles and relationships within our new family… and that was if things went well.

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

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

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

Much later I would learn he had left her a note on her bed that night saying just about the same thing. He told her that he was not trying to replace anyone or be her Dad. He only wanted her to know that he was here and he would always be here… for her… no matter what.

When she tells this story, she will tell you that she tore that note up immediately. She will also tell you that she put his words to the test… I will confirm that she did. She tried everything to make him not like her… much less love her. But he was true to his word… he never wavered, no matter what she tried. The amazing part? Within 6 months, on our first Father’s Day together, she baked him cookies and for the first time, called him her Dad.

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

My second daughter and Bruce, were tight from the very first time they met, which was actually before we married. She had picked him up at the airport for me and driven him the 2 hours to our town. During that drive, she told him that she was glad to see her mom so happy, and she really liked him. Then, she went on to tell him that if he ever broke my heart or hurt me, she would “open a can of ‘whoop-a$$’ on him.” He used to laugh when he told that story because she isn’t much taller than me and just as petite. He absolutely loved her fire and energy for life, and they were best buds from that day forward.

When her son was born, he also instantly bonded with his “Poppa.” They would play or “hang out” watching football for hours. Bruce loved him with abandon and in his eyes, that boy could do no wrong. To this day, my grandson still talks about his Poppa and tells me that Poppa is his guardian angel. The bond between those two is so strong, it knows no bounds and seems to transcend this life.

My son was actually with me on the cruise when Bruce and I met. He was the world’s best chaperone on that trip. At one point when he saw Bruce holding my hand, he commented, “A little cheeky, don’t you think?” Cheeky?? What 17 year old says “cheeky?” (It took everything in me not to laugh out loud.)

Within a short time though, my son let his guard down and stopped trying to “protect” his mom. Soon after, he and Bruce had built a solid relationship. This relationship was such a blessing for my son. For the first time, he had the experience of a healthy, male role model and friend… a man to show him “how to be a man”… a man to show him “how to treat a lady”… all things I could never do.

From the beginning, Bruce was willing to do whatever was needed to move our family forward… anything from teaching teenagers to drive and helping with homework to offering unconditional love and acceptance as they tried to figure out how they each fit into this world. It was an amazing experience! How could a woman not love a man who loves her children so completely?

And what did we give to Bruce in return? A family… a BIG family… and all the love and craziness that comes with that. : )

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

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

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

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