Month: January 2019

Peace, Love and Grief… Life Doesn’t End Here

“Life doesn’t end here”… It took me years to see this as a promise…

When Bruce died, a huge part of me died with him. In fact, it felt like most of me died that night right there beside him… And there was an even bigger part of me that wished I had. I didn’t think I could go on without him… And I didn’t want to. Everything felt black… I was lost… I can remember just sitting in the middle of the floor in our home and sobbing. That space felt so huge and empty without him.

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 2014

As that first year passed into another, life went on… Life didn’t end there, but it wasn’t a life of hope. It was simply a life of survival… It was about putting one foot in front of the other… Each day looked like the one before it… My kids were all grown with lives of their own. I knew they loved me, but I certainly didn’t think I was needed. I just existed…

And so it was for a very long time…

I remember telling one of my daughters that each day that passed simply represented another day closer to being with Bruce again. I even remember confiding to some of my closest friends that if I got really sick (like cancer), I wouldn’t fight it. My poor family – I was a mess!

I remember people telling me that I “needed to live” … That my life wasn’t over… I kept reading the verse from Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.” But I wasn’t comforted. I was struggling… I would pray for God to let me join Bruce, but my sobbing prayers were met with silence. God wasn’t even listening, (or so I thought),… but I thought wrong.

Slowly things began to change.

I began to realize that even though my kids were adults with lives of their own, they actually did still need me. I am the only parent in their lives, and that can be a pretty important space even with adult children. Then, there is my grandson. When he and my daughter moved in with me, it was as if someone turned the lights back on… That huge space was filled once again with love and laughter and fun and chaos and incredible moments… In other words – life… Our home was once again filled with life.

Then, 2018 happened… When I first found the lump, I ignored it. Not because I wanted to die, I just didn’t want to believe it was anything serious. For months, I convinced myself it was nothing… And I said nothing – not a word to anyone. After waiting eight months, I finally saw a doctor who gave me the diagnosis I didn’t want to hear – cancer.

It’s weird… years before I thought that was what I wanted – not cancer, but a way out… A way to Bruce. While that may sound a bit dramatic, I have read enough books on grief to know it is a normal part of grieving. (As if there is anything normal about grief!)

But by 2018, that was no longer what I wanted… Over the past few years, I have learned to love life again. Yes, I still have times of grief, but never to the extent that it had been in the beginning. So, what did I do? I did what most of us would do… I chose to fight… I chose to live!

I came across a quote from Andre Escobar – “Life doesn’t end here.” Just a few short years ago, I thought my life had ended… I was done. But not anymore… Over the years, I did find that comfort I read about in Matthew. I found it in the arms of my friends and family. Now… “life doesn’t end here” became my mantra…

My last treatment was on November 2, and while I haven’t heard the words “cured” or “remission” yet, (it’s too soon), as far as I’m concerned, I have won! My hair is growing back. I am working out. I’m back at the office. I am doing all the things I love to do, and I feel fabulous!

I am living life again… and I am loving it!

I still miss Bruce. I’d be lying to say otherwise. However, my faith tells me I will see him again, and I hang onto that truth. I also know he wouldn’t want me to shut down and stop living. Our short time together taught me that life is too precious for that.

So, as long as I have breath within me, I will keep on loving and living, because…

Life doesn’t end here… 

“So I’m going to do my best in this life so that I’m sure to see her in the next one. I’m going to work hard, tell the truth, and be of some use to the people who care about me. I’m going to try anyway.” – Adriana Trigiani, The Shoemaker’s Wife

What about you? When your loved on died, did it take time to want to live and learn to love life again? Is that something you still struggle with? It can be hard to admit, but it is even harder to bear alone. We are part of a club, we never wanted to join. Yet, here we are… Let’s reach out to one another and share our stories. 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 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… Trying to Build a Better Boat

This year is different.
I can’t explain it.
My heart is still shattered.
The tears are still falling.
But this year,
I just want to remember…
I want to look at photographs
And gaze deep in your eyes.
I want to remember
The laughter
And the gentle moments when you held me
And whispered, “I love you.”
I want to close my eyes
And go back to that first hello…
That first kiss.
This year there seems no need for ceremonies…
Just time alone…
With you…
~ Linda, January 2019

Well, I did it… I survived this week… one of the hardest weeks on the calendar for me. This week held the anniversary of Bruce’s death. Only one moment in time, but a moment that changed my life forever.

The first year, I wasn’t sure what to do. My sister had the foresight to know I shouldn’t be alone, and lovingly came and spent the weekend with me. We didn’t really do anything formal – a trip to the beach and a crab dinner (one of Bruce’s favorites).

The following year, I knew I wanted… no, needed… to do something different… something more. We made Tibetan prayer flags for the garden, as well as baskets filled with flowers, incense and charms to represent special things about Bruce to place in the ocean. I even wrote a letter to Bruce to place in the basket. Two of my daughters were able to come join me, and we headed to the ocean for a special ceremony of sorts. Plus, toasts at all his favorite fishing spots and meals at all his favorite restaurants. And to finish the night – a little Jimmy Buffet to sooth the soul.

This tradition I kept up for several years. Then last year, I decided to change it up just a little… First, the prayer flags were in such good condition, there was no need to make new ones. I also decided I wanted to travel… Traveling was how we met and what we loved to do, so I decided to make that a new part of the tradition. So, off I went to another beach south of here. It was a lovely weekend. I still brought flowers and beer to the beach. I still wrote him a letter. I still ate at places I believed he would have loved, and I still finished the night dancing to Jimmy Buffet.

This year, though, things are very different. Perhaps it’s a result of spending the last year fighting to survive, but as I wrote a couple of weeks ago, I have felt very different in my grief these past few months. I don’t really know how to explain it… I still miss him. However, so much of the time before the cancer diagnosis, I just felt like I was going through the motions of life. Whereas now, I actually feel enthusiastic about living my life.

In fact, have you heard Kenny Chesney’s new song, Better Boat? I love it! In fact, I relate to it so much, it has become my mantra song over the last few months… It just seems to truly describe where I find myself emotionally…

… My how the last few months have changed

I’m smilin’ more despite the pain…
I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
If it’s working I don’t know
When I get done the thing may not float
But I’m learning how to build a better boat
~ Songwriters: Travis Meadows, Liz Rose

So that’s me lately… Just constantly trying to “build a better boat.” In fact, that’s where I found myself this week… I knew I would be sad, and I knew there would be tears, but I also knew I needed something different… Something more quiet and less formal. I also knew I knew I wanted to be in “our” home this year… No traveling – I’ve spent enough time away from my family and traveling for treatments this last year. So, when I woke up that morning, I still had no idea… I was going to play it by ear… And here’s how it played out…

My journal:
January 2019 – noon
“Hi Babe!
Well, maybe I should be but I’m not so mad today… Sad – yes… Missing you – definitely… Wishing you were here and knowing you would love this time together today – you bet!

I didn’t (couldn’t) go to our beach today. It’s still closed due to the government shutdown. All week I’ve been hoping it would open, but no… Anyway, I drove up to Daytona instead. The beach ramp for cars is closed (high tide), but that’s okay. It’s kinda cold anyway, so I’m sitting inside the pier restaurant (Crabby Joe’s). You used to love this place! I’m at one of the high-tops overlooking the water, which is beautiful today. I can even feel the waves rocking the pier. And if I close my eyes, I would swear I can feel you right beside me… Because that is where you always sat… Never across from me – always beside me with one hand on my leg or holding my hand… I miss that….

You would love this today! I know you would be all about this place and simply spending time together.

It’s weird – maybe good – but this year is so different. In the past, I had (no – needed) a “ceremony” for today… But this year, that didn’t feel right. It was right at the time, but this year, I just wanted to enjoy the day and remember you… remember us.

The memories are flooding in. I can feel the tears in my eyes and a few have fallen, but mostly the memories make me smile. I love remembering… I love giving my “permission” – perhaps selfishly – to simply spend today focusing on you and us…

5 pm
As I sit here, all I can think about is how blessed I have been. Yes – there have been hard times… even some really sucky times… But through it all, I have survived… I have come out on top knowing I have experienced great love… your love…

9 pm
I have thought about you so much today… So many memories… So much love. I’ll never understand why… I’ll never know what life would be like if we could have lived out our dreams together… I just know my heart is still shattered… I love you. I will always love you… And I have been blessed to have known a love like ours…”

I ain’t lonely, but I spend a lot of time alone
More than I’d like to, but I’m okay with staying home
My how the last few months have changed
I’m smilin’ more despite the pain

I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
I’m learning how to build a better boat

I hate waiting, ain’t no patience in these hands
I’m not complaining, sometimes it’s hard to change a man
I think I’m stronger than I was,
I let God do what he does

I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
Around the waves I can’t control
I’m learning how to build a better boat

I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
If it’s working I don’t know
When I get done the thing may not float
But I’m learning how to build a better boat
~ Songwriters: Travis Meadows, Liz Rose

What about you? How do honor your loved one’s memory? Does it change year to year? Or are there certain traditions you incorporate each year? What do you do to remember? 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 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… My Biggest Fear

This week marks the anniversary of mine and Bruce’s last week together… And to make it even more real, the dates line up to the day of the week exactly as they did that same week six years ago. When I woke up this morning, I found myself trying to remember every moment of that week. It was such precious time, and we had no idea what lay just a few short days away.

The trouble is the distance between that week and this one… and my own memory…

When Bruce died, and this journey began, I was terrified. There were so much hurt and so many unknowns. How in the world was I supposed to learn to navigate this path on my own?… Well, time has passed, and thankfully, with each passing day, I learn a little bit more.

But there is one fear, I can’t seem to shake. In fact, as time goes on, it seems to be my biggest fear… It is the fear of forgetting.

From the moment he died, I swore that as long as I had breath in my lungs, his memory would stay alive. I refused to forget him, or to let the world forget he had been here, too. Perhaps that is a part of my reasoning for writing this blog… I know it is why I keep a journal.

It is the reason we write down our Christmas memories with Bruce and slip them into his stocking, (which I still hang next my own). And why his pictures still grace the shelves throughout our home. It is why I still wear his jacket on chilly nights and smile whenever I see his favorite beer on a menu or a store shelf.

These last few months, I have even begun to recognize some of my own healing as I find myself looking at pictures and (rather than crying), I can beam with delight at the memories involved. These things (and many more) are what I choose to do to keep Bruce’s memory and legacy alive… It is my way of expressing the love I still feel for him.

But…

There have also been some changes over the last few months which is fueling my biggest fear… The fear of forgetting… And the cancer treatments of this past year don’t help this situation at all. (Allow me to confirm that “chemo-brain” is a very real and very frustrating thing.)

So how does that play out?

Well, I struggle to remember what his voice sounded like. I have two videos of Bruce – one is silent and in the other, he only says one word, … “almost” and he laughs. I find myself watching it over and over just to hear that one word… just to hear the joy in his laughter and see the smile on his face.

I struggle to remember what his arms felt like and how it felt to lay in them… To remember the comfort and security I always found there. While I have gotten stronger and more self-reliant this year, deep down I miss the strength I found in those arms, and I am frustrated as I struggle to recall how that felt.

I also struggle to remember what it felt like to hold his hand… His hands were so much bigger than my own. I can remember we rarely interlaced our fingers because it would hurt my hands. Instead, he would hold my hands like a child’s and ever so gently rub the back of my hand with his thumb.

I want to remember the exact color of his eyes and the way they wrinkled when he smiled… Or to remember the things that made him smile… I want to remember how his eyes twinkled when he was up to no good and how it sounded when he said, “I love you.”

I want to remember all of it… But between the cancer treatments and growing older, that seems to be getting harder and harder. I am terrified I am forgetting… And that makes me even more sad.

Normally in the past, I would spend a lot of time this week at “our” beach where his ashes were spread off shore. I would sit there for hours… remembering… writing… and just talking to him. But this year, due to this government shut-down, that is not an option. Our beach is closed, and I can’t even get close to that space which is so precious to me.

I’m not sure how I will spend this week, or how to overcome this fear… All I know is this is my biggest fear, and it seems to be coming true…

But one thing I will always remember – I love him… And I will always love him…

“’I miss him every single day,’ I said… ‘It’s gotten to the point where I can’t hear his voice anymore and I’m so afraid I won’t remember what he sounded like when he’d say, ‘I love you.’ And I don’t ever want to forget.’” ~ Donna VanLiere, The Christmas Hope

What about you? What is your biggest fear? Do you ever struggle with forgetting? Am I alone on this one? Would you like to share your thoughts or ideas on how you deal with your fears? Or what you do to remember? 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 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.