Month: March 2018

Peace, Love and Grief… Time to Cry

People ask me if I still cry…
I wake up in the morning with only your picture next to me…
And I cry.
As I get dressed, I think of how you would come in each morning and kiss me good-by…
And I cry.
At work, people make comments about my grief and pain. I smile at them and try to remember that they have no idea what they are saying…
And I cry.
I come home to an empty house and spend the evening alone…
And I cry.
I crawl into our big empty bed alone – no one to hold me; no one to kiss me…
And I cry.
So, when people ask if I still cry, I say – Not all the time, but sometimes…
I still cry.
~ Linda, January 2014

It’s been over 4 years since I wrote that… And, yes, I still cry… Not as often and not publicly but yes, I do.

I remember when this journey first started. I read so many things which said the pain would subside, or the grief was compared to an open wound that would later feel more like a scar. I disagree… I haven’t found that to be true at all.

It still hurts… I still cry… I still miss Bruce as much today as I did years ago. The difference isn’t in the pain – the pain is still here. The difference is in how I have learned to live with the pain. In the beginning, I couldn’t control it… It controlled me. It has taken me years to learn to turn that around.

At first, I didn’t understand this new aspect of my life or how to live with it. It was so foreign and surreal. It was made up of everything from my worst nightmares. I just kept thinking it would go away… If I could just find a list of all the things I needed to do to make it better, I could “get over this.” I just knew that was the answer.

But there is no such list, … and so I struggled. I struggled because I couldn’t predict when a wave of grief would hit. I struggled because when a wave did hit me, I couldn’t control the tears. I struggled because I felt judged by people around me (which was really only one or two people, but in my head, it felt like a lot more).

At one point, I remember reading about a woman who would “give” herself a specific time each day to cry. At the time, I thought, “That’s silly. I never know when I’m going to cry… How can I say I’m going to cry at a certain time each day?” However, as time has passed, I have found myself doing exactly that… And I don’t think I’m the only one.

This week as I was looking at some journaling ideas for grief, one was “When do you cry?” I know that can go in a couple of directions… For example, when do you cry (what triggers it)? OR when do you cry (what time of the day)? I have had to look at this question both ways.
When I was first on this journey, I had to figure out the first question…

Figuring out the things that could trigger my grief was my first step to learning how to control it. For a while, I would avoid those things (or try), but as I have gotten stronger, I have learned to handle those triggers as they come.

This is where I have learned to appreciate the timing piece… the “when do I let it go” part… As time has passed, I have learned to allow myself some time and space each day to let it go… Journaling has probably been the biggest God-send for me. I have stacks and stacks of journals filled with my feelings – the anger, sadness, and loneliness. All of the overwhelming feelings associated with grief are there as raw, wounded and honest as I felt them in the moment.

Because I only write in my journal at a certain time each day, I started to learn how to hang onto those feelings until I was ready to write. And as I write, the tears flow, and I let them… I don’t try to stop them… That is my time to let it go… It is my time each day to grieve and feel no guilt or shame.

I believe when you lose someone you love… someone who was your whole world, your grief will always be a part of your life. I don’t believe it changes from an open wound to a scar… I believe it is more about learning to live with your grief – learning to control it versus letting it control you. It isn’t easy, but it is doable…

So, yes, I still cry… Do you?

Everyone deals with loss and grief in their own way. For each of us, learning to live with our grief can be an overwhelming lesson. I know each of will do it in our own way and in our own time. Today’s blog is simply my thoughts and how I have moved forward on this path. Maybe this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have struggled with learning to live with your grief. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need 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. *

Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

* 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… The Gift That is Life – Part 2

Life, in its cruelty,
Gives us the gift of love
But along with it
Comes an hourglass counting down the moments
Until it is gone.
~ Linda, Sept 2013

Last week I wrote about Bruce dealing with his own mortality… About wanting life to be as normal as possible for as long as possible… And, about appreciating the “Gift That is Life.” This week I want to pick that thought back up… Life… It really is a gift… The best gift…

If there is one thing I have learned on this journey, it is the idea that each moment is precious… And the next moment is not promised…

I’ll always remember our last night together… We laughed; we talked; we made plans… It was all so normal. I would never have guessed that night’s kiss would be our last. I would never have guessed I would never lay in his arms again and feel the security that was offered there. I would never again feel the contentment and security that comes from unconditional love… I would never know any of those again… Not from Bruce.

Once he was gone, my whole perspective on life changed. What had seemed so important before, was not… What was important? Family… love… acceptance…

Those were the very things Bruce always valued. He loved his family. It didn’t matter if things were awkward or stressful… He always just loved us… All of us. It didn’t matter if he agreed with what was happening or the choices made or the actions taken… He just loved us. For him, it was that simple.

Don’t get me wrong… There were plenty of times when he was hurt by these very things, but it never changed how he felt or how he responded. I believe he felt that way because he knew his time was limited. I also believe he understood the big picture… He knew what was really important. It wasn’t about having his way, or people even understanding his perspective… His goal was simply to accept (no judgement) people where they were and to love us.

It’s weird, but when he died, that part I understood! The idea that life it too precious to waste on anger or self-pity struck me deep.

I know there have been plenty of times on this journey when I have felt sorry for myself and wondered “why us?” But when it comes to my relationships, I have learned that letting things go and just loving is way more important than being right.

Life is too short… Bruce died when he was only 52… He was young, especially when you consider the medium life span for men is 78. We thought we had years left together… But we didn’t… And that is my point… We don’t know how much time we have left together.

When Bruce died, I had no regrets. We weren’t arguing nor were we cold with each other. We were close… We were intimate… We spent as much time together as we could. We didn’t waste time on anger or “keeping score.” Things were good!

But life isn’t always that way… I see people arguing or treating each other with disrespect or simple cool disdain… What a waste! If life ended tomorrow, is that really where you want it end?… Not me…

This journey has taught me that I may not get tomorrow… Today, this moment, is all I have for sure. Understanding that is huge! Living it is even bigger…

I love my friends. I love my family. We may not always agree or understand each other. We may inadvertently hurt one another… (After all, it’s what people do, even when we don’t mean to.) But no matter what, my love is bigger than anything else…

It’s been a long, hard journey, but that is one thing I know… I have learned to ask myself, “If life ended now, would I be okay with what I am doing? … With where things are?” If not, what do I want to change? What do I need to do different?

Why? Because I remember that Bruce saw our life together as a gift – each and every moment… And I want to offer that same gift to those I love, as well.

Everyone deals with loss and grief in their own way. For each of us, trying to understand why things happened as they did can be a challenge in and of itself, and our paths are as diverse as the drops of water in the ocean… And realizing the preciousness of life is the best thing we can do. Maybe this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have struggled with the “why” of grief. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need 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. *

Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

* 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… The Gift That is Life

As I lie here thinking of you,
I realize I have been blessed to have had a husband
Whose only expectation was for me to love him;
And whose only goal was to show me how much he loved me.
~ Linda, July 2014

When Bruce died it came as such a shock to me… How does a person go to bed laughing and joking, but not wake up in the morning? How does that work? Months later I learned he died of an enlarged heart. But how is it, no one know about that? His job required a yearly physical… I know he went to the doctor every six months for his blood pressure. The whole thing just didn’t add up… And to be honest, it still doesn’t.

I remember after he died, all the family came. As they were trying to help me through those days, they would ask about this or that document or piece of paperwork… But, I didn’t have to go hunt for any of it… All of it was in a nice, neat pile on the counter… Everything I needed… Everything Bruce knew I would need.

It didn’t take long for the feeling to sink in… The feeling that he must have known… He had to have known… Why else would everything be ready for me? In fact, the more I thought about it, I started to recall times when he would make comments about dying, which I had laughed off… Or forbidden him to say… Had he been trying to bring it up, and I shut it down? Was he trying to open the path for a conversation, and I didn’t get the hint?

At first, it just plain made me angry! How could he have known and not said anything? Why didn’t he allow me to be a part of whatever decision he made about his health? Why didn’t he allow me a last good-by? Why didn’t he tell me, so we could be sure everything was planned and in order? Why did he leave me to tell everyone? Why hadn’t he done that?

I didn’t understand any of it… It was all too much to take in, much less, try to make sense of. As the months passed, I called his doctors and asked what they knew, but I got the same answer each time… “We have nothing on record about an enlarged heart.” (As it turns out, HIPPA laws prevent discussion of the deceased’s records for 50 years.) The most I could find was a lab order for a heart scan and blood work, which appears to have been ignored by Bruce and shoved in the back of his bottom drawer. (So, I know it was a discussion with his doctor.)

As the years passed, my feeling that Bruce knew something has remained just as strong, but my anger eventually gave way to guilt…

I began to feel terrible knowing that Bruce must have carried this knowledge all alone. I couldn’t understand why he didn’t feel he could trust me enough to tell me? He didn’t need to handle it by himself… Why didn’t he let me support him through this?… Why?? What did I do wrong?

No matter how I looked at it, I felt I had let him down. For whatever reason, he felt he had to do this all alone… The guilt over not being there for him was overwhelming at times. People told me to let it go – there was no evidence to prove he knew anything… But I couldn’t. I knew Bruce… And in hindsight, I know what I know… And I know that he knew.

Now, however, my thought process has changed once again. Now instead of feeling guilt, I have moved to a place of understanding.

Over the past year, I have had several friends diagnosed with chronic or fatal illnesses. Each one has handled it in differently. Some have made public announcements on Face Book, while others have kept it quiet and only shared with a few. I am also sure there have been others who have told no one…

So, once again, my feelings have changed… Now I can say, I get it… finally.

Each of us is different, and how we handle those situations is going to be different. So, I have had to take myself out of my own head and put myself in Bruce’s place, and remember who he was as a man…

First, he hated to be the center of attention… Even telling me, would have made him the center of our marriage – something he would not have liked. Second, he believed in living in the moment… whatever it held. If I know Bruce (as I believe I do), he would have wanted life to be as normal as possible for as long as possible. He would have wanted the mundane and the quiet moments as much as the fun and silly moments we shared… He would have wanted the tenderness and love we shared to be real and honest up to the last moment…

And that was exactly what he got…

We laughed and disagreed. We kissed hello and good-by. We spent quiet moments at the beach and danced in the kitchen. I believe his goal was to be sure my memories of “us” were real… and honest… and precious…

Most of all, I believe he never said a word because he wanted me to remember our life together as a gift – each and every moment…

“Suffering and loss have this extraordinary capacity to alert and awaken us to the gift that life is.” ~ Rob Bell

Everyone deals with loss and grief in their own way. For each of us, trying to understand why things happened as they did can be a challenge in and of itself, and our paths are as diverse as the drops of water in the ocean. These are only my thoughts and reactions as I have traveled on this path. Maybe this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have struggled with the “why” of grief. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need 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. *

Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

* 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… That Moment When You Know

You did not die alone.
I held you as you took your last breath.
I called your name as you struggled to survive.
I loved you then, and I love you now.
You died knowing you were loved.
You did not die alone…
~ Linda, Oct 2013

There are some moments in life that are permanently engraved on our brains and in our hearts. For example, if you were alive when Kennedy was shot, you likely remember that exact moment when you heard the news. Or how about 9/11? I can remember the moment I heard the news like it was yesterday. I was standing in my classroom waiting for my first class to arrive… It felt like the very ground beneath my feet had disappeared.

Those were huge events we can all relate to, because these were events shared by millions. But what about our individual “huge events?” What about those moments when our own worlds stopped? For me, that moment is also permanently etched in my mind…

I’ve written about that night many times, but this is about the moment when I knew…

I had no idea where things were headed when I first woke up and heard Bruce struggling. In fact, I was worried he would be upset and tell me I had over-reacted by calling 911. Even as I was doing CPR and waiting for the Emergency Responders to arrive, I kept thinking he would be embarrassed by all the attention… He hated to be the center of attention.

Once the Emergency Responders arrived, I stood outside the bedroom looking in. As I watched them working… I realized what was happening.

They quickly moved Bruce from the bed to the floor just inside the room. There were three men. Two of them worked on Bruce, while the third walked back and forth – asking me questions and giving them directions. I watched as they performed CPR, inserted an epipen into his heart, and finally used the defibrillator paddles…

No matter what they tried, the line on the heart monitor remained flat.

“You know someone is going to die because you know we’re all going to die – you know it in your brain. But then there’s a moment when that truth drops from your brain to your heart, like an elevator in free fall, and lands with a thud.” ~ Rob Bell, How to be Here

I felt as if everything in me was screaming as I watched my worst nightmare unfold before my eyes. I would swear to you, I was screaming this whole time… Screaming his name… Begging him to come back. But in actuality, I didn’t make a sound… Instead, the silence in our house was deafening.

I knew… But I didn’t want to know…

I watched as they looked at each other… Not a word was spoken, but I knew what that look meant… It was resignation… There was nothing more to try… They continued to pump air into his lungs, as they lifted him onto a gurney and moved him to the ambulance. The man who had seemed in charge started cleaning up the trash and debris from their life-saving attempts.

As for me… I just stood there… watching… I knew… But I didn’t want to know…

I remember the man in charge asked if I wanted someone to drive me to the hospital… At first, I said, “No, I can drive myself.” While in my head, I thought, “For goodness sake! Why aren’t they just going already? Why are they cleaning? Why are they taking their time? Why aren’t they rushing to the hospital?”

But… I knew… I knew the answers to all those questions… “Yes… yes, please… Could someone drive me, after all?”

We waited – all of us – until a squad car came to drive me. Then, we all left in a very, quiet procession – no sirens, no racing… Just a quiet, slow drive through town. As I rode in the back of the squad car, I made my first call to my parents. I remember my mouth felt like it was filled with cotton… every piece of me felt numb… surreal…

“Momma? Daddy? It’s me… Linda… I’m on my way to the hospital… I think Bruce died.”

I remember that moment…
You took one last breath…
Your life ended in that moment.
It felt like mine did too.
Now you are beside me always –
Watching me, guiding me…
Still loving me.
And… I remember.
~ Linda, Oct 2013

Each of us dealing with loss can remember the moment we learned our loved one was gone. Their life ended, and for many of us, it felt like ours did too. We all know death is a part of life, but somehow when it happens, we aren’t ready. We know it is real, but we don’t want it to be. Do you remember that moment? Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. *

Who knows… your story may hold hope for someone else.

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

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