Month: July 2017

Peace, Love and Grief… Grieving Differently

(To my own family – This is not a rant or accusation. It was driven by observing my own behaviors. Please know I am so sorry for any pain or hurt I have caused… I am so thankful for each of you and love you more than I can possibly express here!)

Everyone grieves differently… We have all heard that. Yet, knowing it and living it can be two different things… As with most experiences in life, we all approach grief from a different angle, because we are different. Even people in the same family will approach grief differently, and sometimes that is the hardest – to allow those we love to experience grief in a different manner from our own.

When you lose someone you love, everything you read and hear tells you to find support. For many of us, there is the assumption that our family will be the best space to find that support. And in some ways, that is true… But in other ways, the fact that we are family can actually make supporting each other harder.

Keep in mind, if it is a situation where everyone is grieving the same loss… the same person, then everyone is hurting… Everyone is looking for support and trying to make sense of something that quite frankly, may not ever make sense. Maybe we are so caught up in our own pain, that we forget to leave space for understanding and compromise towards those we love most. Instead, there can be an underlying feeling that we should all be grieving in the same way and healing at the same pace…

But we don’t. Even in the same family, we have different personalities and life experiences… And despite being in the same family, we are each grieving the loss of a different relationship.

This is not a rant… I am referring to all of us… myself especially. For if I am honest, I must admit I have felt this way, too. As with everything else in grief, this part of the journey is a roller coaster, too… Not always one way, yet not always the other way either. There are days when I can easily be the one offering support and able to listen. While I may not completely understand what someone else is thinking and feeling, I can empathize and recognize their grief as being just as legitimate as my own.

Yet, there are just as many days when I want to scream and yell that I am hurting, too – and in that moment, my pain feels worse than anyone else’s possibly could. Sometimes, I want to roll my eyes and stomp my feet and walk away. I don’t want to listen… I want to be heard. I don’t want to be understanding… I want to be understood.

I am embarrassed… All of this is hard to admit, but I promised when I started this to be honest here… To share my experiences as they happen.

From what I have read, heard and experienced, while we will usually allow other people the space they need to grieve, families tend to expect each other to grieve in a similar fashion… For whatever reason, we tend to be less patient with each other, and that can create a truly volatile atmosphere which has the potential to be damaging to everyone.

“Lastly, family members will need to understand that while their closeness may be supportive in their grief, it also can make them likely to displace blame, anger, and other hostile feelings onto one another, to avoid communication for fear of upsetting the other, or to place irrational demands on each other.”

~ connect.legacy.com

Another part of the problem may be something called the “multiplier effect.” This occurs when the grief of one family member triggers the grief of another (or all). In the beginning, this is normal as everyone’s grief is so acute. However, as time passes and each individual moves through grief in their own way and time, this effect can create impatience with one another. While the paths of our grief journey split off in different directions, there seems to be a part of us that wants to “stick together as a family”… to grieve in a similar fashion – following identical paths.

However, that isn’t possible… Logically we know, we are all individuals with varying needs, but it can be hard to remember we are each grieving the loss of a different relationship. We know we don’t like others to tell us how to feel in our grief, but we also need to remember not to do the same to those we love either. Instead, we need to allow each other the space to feel what we feel and to express it in the way that will work best for each of us…

Put simply – we need to remember to offer what we would like to receive… love, patience and someone willing to simply be there in our hardest moments…

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… For many of us, the changes in us created by our grief can be confusing and overwhelming to ourselves and others. Learning to be open to new possibilities can feel impossible at times and at other times, this is what gives us hope. We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are not alone. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you!

Peace, Love and Grief… Does Grief Change You?

“Of course we change. Maybe not the entire personality traits but the way we react to certain things, events, and people. The way we observe life changes.”
~ daughter2010, Grief Healing Discussion Group

All my life, I have been happy… Like anyone, I had my sad moments, but overall, I was always able to see the positive side of anything… I could always find something to like about anyone. That positive attitude has guided my life and my attitude for as long as I can remember…

But now… Well, I don’t know…

When I lost Bruce, I was devastated. I couldn’t comprehend the idea of a life without him… a life without “us.” I felt a lot of emotions (and not one of them was positive). I was angry… very angry. And I trusted no one… After all, if I couldn’t trust God, who could I trust?

I was told all these negative thoughts and emotions are a normal part of grief, but they were new to me. I had never felt such intense negativity before, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to do with it. Like I said, I had been sad and angry before – but never to this degree or for this long. I felt like I was being sucked into a dark hole, and I couldn’t find my way back out… And that was just the beginning of the journey… There was still a long road ahead.

Thankfully, I have a few friends and family members who have stayed by my side… who didn’t let my emotional roller coaster scare them away. While they hadn’t lost a spouse, they seemed to understand the range and depth of the emotions I felt. They never gave up on me… They never told me how to feel or not feel. They never made me feel wrong or crazy. They just stayed by my side, listened and held me when I cried.

I remember talking to them in the beginning and sharing my fear of becoming an angry, bitter old woman… It seemed like a very real possibility. Their answers were simple and kind… They told me they didn’t think that would happen, and they would tell me if it did. And through the years, they have never lost faith in me.

The truth is, though, I have changed… While I haven’t become the bitter, angry woman I feared, I am no longer the positive, “trust-the-world-no-matter-what” person I used to be. Instead, I seem to find myself somewhere in the middle.

While I’m not always sure I like who I am, I know I can’t go back to who I was. As with any trauma, grief has created a “new normal.” I’m still me… I still have the same characteristics, but it’s all different. It seems as if the balance of those characteristics has changed. And because of this change, I see and experience the world differently now.

For example, I have always been an introvert. (Don’t confuse this with being shy – I’m not.) I love and care about people – I enjoy being with people. However, my energy for life comes from those quiet moments alone – from the peace I find in solitude. (Bruce was the same way, so with him, this felt normal.) Since Bruce died, this characteristic has not changed, but it has become greater.

Whereas in the past, I would take these moments where I could and make do, now I purposely seek out this time for myself. Those around me seem to accept it even if they don’t understand it. Thankfully, it is rarely seen as selfish… In fact, it is common to hear “I know all is normal, when you are off by yourself writing in your journal or just sitting alone.”

There are other changes, though that seem to be more noticeable… and perhaps harder for the people around me to accept…

For example, in the past I was much more chatty, (which evidently seemed friendlier). Now, however, I listen more and talk less. Like before, I still talk to anyone, but now I’m not real inclined to initiate the conversation. I guess, I’m no longer interested in small talk… That is not my comfort zone, and is a bit of a struggle for me. However, I really do enjoy listening to people and their stories – I love a real conversation – something genuine… And is that really a bad thing?

As I said, the characteristics seem to stay remain the same just the balance changes…

Another example, is my need to express myself creatively. In the past, I did this in more organized ways, such as choirs and theater, but that all stopped when Bruce died. My need for genuine expression, however, is still here. Only now it shows up in new ways, and has become my avenue for grief and healing.

For example, I’m not a “lay-in-bed-and-pull-the-covers-over-my-head” widow; nor am I a “forget-it-and-move-on” widow. (Don’t get me wrong… There is nothing wrong with those. You should do whatever is right for you. They just aren’t me.) I have found I need to express my grief in a more tangible way… That is where I have found healing.

So far (and I say, “so far,” because I am sure there will be more), I have taken up gardening and landscaped my yard (before I avoided yard work at all costs). I have painted pictures filled with rage and hurt, as well as pictures of our favorite places (whereas before I only painted theater sets and wall murals).  I, also, started writing (first in a journal and now this blog).

For whatever reason, this has become my way of remembering Bruce and honoring his memory. Will I do it forever? I don’t know… All I know is I have to heal in my own way… And this feels right for me in this moment…

One the biggest changes for me, though, has been my own emotional strength… My belief in myself and learning to live the life I want, rather than living my life to please others. This has been the biggest change for me. I grew up to be a “pleaser.” I would avoid conflict at all costs… I just wanted everyone to be happy and “get along.” However, while that feels “safe ” to me, it is not healthy, and the cost was high. By trying to please everyone else, I lost myself.

However, when Bruce and I were married, he encouraged me to simply be me. He showed me how to be strong. He showed me it was possible to be kind and loving, while still being true to myself. Even then, there were a few people in my life that balked at this. But I had Bruce’s support, and I was learning to find that balance.

Then suddenly, he was gone… I felt so lost. Now I had to find that strength on my own, and it was hard. I know there are those who struggle with my strength/confidence and push back… It’s not the way I was. At times like this, I doubt myself… I think it would just be easier to go back to my old habits. But then, I think of Bruce and the strength he saw inside me, and I keep going.

So the question was “Does grief change you?” I have to say, “yes.” I know it has changed me… Then, the next question is “Do I accept that or do I go back to who I was before?”… Honestly, I can’t go back – not anymore… The loss of Bruce has changed my entire world. It has changed my whole outlook on life and those things I value and hold dear…

I guess this is me now… And I think I’m okay with that.

“I must think for myself and come always from a place of love.”
~ Wayne Dyer

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… For many of us, the changes created by our grief can be confusing and overwhelming to ourselves and others. Learning to be open to new possibilities can feel impossible at times. Yet at other times, this is what gives us hope. We all move through this journey at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are not alone. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Attached

This week in my martial arts class, our instructor asked a question… “Have you ever been so attached to how you thought something was going to happen that when it didn’t happen that way, you were disappointed?”

The lesson, of course went on to discuss how important it is to not be attached to what you believe will happen, but instead, being open to all possibilities and learning to “roll with the punches.” Of course, he was relating this lesson back to the strategies of sparring, and it was a great analogy…. Everyone can relate to that experience. However, immediately my mind was elsewhere…

My mind was on Bruce… and the future we thought lay before us…

The miracle of two people living in opposite parts of the country, meeting in the Caribbean and falling in love was never lost on us. It was something we constantly marveled. (In fact, Bruce used to tell me I should write a book about it… Little did either of us know this is how our story would be told.)

There seemed to be no end to the depth of our connection and love for each other. While I will always believe he knew his time was limited, I had no idea. In my mind, we had forever. I was convinced we would grow old together… I was definitely attached to the idea of a long future together for us… Death was no where on my radar.

How could  “forever” not be our future? We were each other’s world… each other’s best friend. We could sit for hours without saying a word – just holding hands or snuggling. We always fell asleep in each other’s arms and woke up the same way. We laughed together, cried together, and entrusted those things closest to our hearts with each other. After 8 years together, we were still learning about each other, and a simple touch could still leave me with butterflies in my stomach and feeling weak in the knees.

Of course, I was attached to the idea of more… How can you love someone and not be attached to the idea of a future together?

I remember about a year after Bruce died, someone told me, “I used to wish I could find someone to love the way you and Bruce loved each other. But after seeing how much you are hurting, I hope I never love anyone the way you two loved each other.”

That shocked me a little bit when it was first spoken, and since then I have given it a lot of thought…

What about me? Would I have let myself fall in love with Bruce if I knew what the future held? I believe I would… Don’t get me wrong. I hate this thing called grief – I think it is BS and it sucks! My whole life has changed… In fact, my whole outlook on life has changed!

But, to imagine a life that never included Bruce is far worse!

Maybe that is why grief is so hard… There is constant inner conflict – Conflict between what is and what you thought would be… Conflict between what the world says you should feel and what you really feel.

For example, the world tells you there are “seven stages” of grief. (Which, by the way, is completely false!) I am a “list” person, so when I first read this, I had some hope… I really believed this would be my ticket to healing. However, I soon learned these stages are actually for someone facing their own impending death. The world, however, has taken this list and tried to apply it to the grief process. The problem is grief doesn’t really work that way.

Yes, when you are grieving, you will experience these stages… Just not quite the way you might think. It is different. There is no checklist and no nice, neat stages to master… Instead, you cycle through each stage (and every emotion) over and over… And in no particular order… And without an end in sight.

Once you recognize that, you also understand what it means when they say, “You never really heal from grief. Instead, you just learn how to live with it.” (Something I couldn’t understand until I lived it.)

Bruce and I had a lot of dreams and plans for our future. We knew we wanted to retire and travel… We wanted to sell everything, buy a boat and just sail from island to island. We wanted to see our children and grandchildren grow up and discover whatever the world held for them. All we wanted was a simple life made up of things like time together at the beach or kayaking. In fact, those were our plans together the weekend he died… Plans for things we would never do…

Were we attached to those things? Yes, I guess so… Because the moment he was gone so were all those plans and dreams. And sometimes it has been just as hard to let go of those as to let go of him. Somehow, they all seem to be intertwined, and I can’t let go of one without letting go of all of it… And letting go of even one piece brings on a whole new round of emotions and grief.

So, the question… Have I ever been so attached to how I thought something was going to turnout and when it didn’t happen that way, was I disappointed? Obviously, yes. But have I learned to be open to all possibilities and “roll with the punches?” Hmmm… I would have to say I’m still working on it…

And I believe, my “working on it” is what grief really is…

I sit in the sun,
Enjoying its warmth.
On the horizon,
I can see the ever-present clouds –
The darkness of a storm
That can hit at any moment.
Some days it stays on the horizon,
Present but not a threat.
Other days, it blows in – shutting out the sun
And attacking my very soul.
I never know from what direction the wind will blow.
Will it blow and keep the storm away?
Or
Will it blow the storm directly in my path?
I never know moment to moment
Where it will be,
But I always know it is there…
Somewhere.
~Linda, April 2016

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… For many of us, the confusion and emotions of grief can be overwhelming even on the best of days. Learning to be open to new possibilities can feel impossible at times and at other times, give us hope. We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… And we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are NOT alone. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Please note – I will be spending next weekend with family (and without a computer). Therefore, there will not be a blog next week, but I will be back the following week (July 23).

Peace, Love and Grief… Dreams

Dreams… I always loved the Biblical story of Joseph and his dreams. Maybe because of that particular story, I’ve always put a certain amount of stock in dreams. Not all dreams – Let’s be honest… some are just too bizarre… But enough to cause me to pay attention to them.

I believe dreams are our mind’s way of telling us what is going within ourselves. They are a way for our minds to work out some of the craziness we call life while we are sleeping… And if we pay attention to them, we can find a lot of answers to our questions.

When Bruce first passed away, I remember reading and hearing about people who dream of their loved ones who had passed. They described dreams that left them feeling loved and filled with hope. But I also read of those who didn’t have those dreams… Their emotions were mixed – some were relieved because they felt it might stop them from moving on, and others were frustrated and confused – why not them? It didn’t seem fair – their love was just as real as anyone else’s.

I prayed I would be one of the lucky ones – I wanted to dream of Bruce… Even if it was just once. I didn’t care what the dream was about. I just wanted to see him again – even if only in a dream… And I did.

It was about three months after he had passed away… The day and evening before were the same as any other. I had gone to work, come home to an empty house, eaten dinner alone, crawled in bed, written in my journal and cried myself to sleep.

How am I here without you?
Why am I here without you?
What am I to do without you?
Who am I without you?
Where am I supposed to go without you?
~ Linda, July 2014

At some point in the night, I started dreaming that we were together – playing and laughing and just having fun. We went for a bike ride (with me perched precariously on the handle bars). We rode through city streets and country roads – laughing and talking the whole time. As the “day” passed, we took a break under a large oak tree, snuggled up together – kissing and talking. The time was absolutely priceless for me. I remember telling Bruce how hard it was without him, and how much I missed him. He looked me in the eye, leaned closer and kissed me, but as he pulled away, he began to fade… I reached out to him, but I couldn’t touch him… He reached out, touched my cheek and told me he loved me as he faded before my eyes.

Then, I woke up… It was a struggle to reorient myself to reality. The dream had felt so real. There was a part of me that was sad, but there was a bigger part of me that felt pure joy. I’ve never tried to explain that dream… Instead I have held onto that precious dream and cherished it in my heart.

Throughout these four years, I have dreamed many times about Bruce. In some dreams, we are riding in his red truck down back country roads, just talking and holding hands. In others, we are on some type of quest – in search of something although I have no idea what. In these dreams, Bruce is my strong hero – always ready to help me so I can keep up with him.

Then, there are those dreams which involved other living, family members. They either ride in the truck with us or walk with us, but they are always involved in the conversation, and their time with us is only for a small portion of the dream.

But no matter what is happening in my dream, the ending is always the same… Bruce always kisses me, touches my cheek and tells me he loves me before he fades away, and the dream ends.

This week my dream took a different turn. Instead of being with Bruce, I was trying to get to him. I knew he was waiting for me somewhere, but I didn’t know where. Every time I started looking for him, someone else always seemed to need my time and attention. It’s funny, you might think I would have been frustrated, but I wasn’t… (At least, not real frustrated). I wanted to get to Bruce, yet I knew the people who needed me really needed me. And in my heart, I knew Bruce would understand and would still wait for me.

When I woke up, it had me thinking about last week’s blog… Who knows? Maybe that is where my dream came from… Perhaps it was my mind simply reminding me of what my soul already knows…

There was a time when I couldn’t understand why I was still here, while Bruce is “there.” But as life has moved on, it has become clear that I am needed here for now… I have a purpose here and a life to continue living.

However, in my heart, I know he is waiting for me… and one day we will be together again…

One day I will see him again.
And he will touch my cheek
And kiss me
And I will smile… again.
~ Linda, September 2014

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. For me this week, it was a simple dream. What about you? What are some of your experiences that have helped you? Would you be willing to share one or two? If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.