June 2016 – Peace, Love & Grief

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.*

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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