May 2019 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Things You Taught Me, Part 1

I spent this last week at a spiritual retreat on the coast of Georgia. What a blessing! It was a week of quiet and deep self-reflection. It was a time to think and process without all the noise of daily life and routines… And more important, it was a week of healing. Over the next few weeks, I hope you will humor me, as I share some of what I experienced there and how it has impacted my grief for Bruce and this path we call life…

I spent most of my life caught up in a religion of rules and exclusivity… A religion of “believe or burn” … a religion of fear and distrust… At least, that was the way I experienced it. While I had made my fair share of mistakes, I thought I was doing okay… I was trying to be “devout” and do the “right things.” Then Bruce died, and my world fell apart…

How could a God who loved me, give me this wonderful gift of a man and then just as quickly take it away? Why would he do that? What kind of love is that?

I struggled with those questions (and more)… My grief journey soon included not only my grief for the loss of Bruce, but also, a grief for the loss of my faith. Bruce was gone… My faith and trust in God were gone. I wanted Bruce back more than anything else, but my faith wasn’t something I wanted to think about… I was done.

However, several months later, I had a dream – a dream that started this journey and led me back home to a place in my soul where I had never been before.

Day 1 Reflections:

Hi Babe,
I am supposed to be thinking about whether or not I believe God made me for himself, and if I believe God is big enough for me… That is a big question.

Years ago, I would have said, “No.” After you died, the God I had been taught to believe in was not enough… because I was not enough. I didn’t believe he loved me as I was… And that led to more confusion. I couldn’t understand why he made me (or any of us) at all, if he couldn’t love me as he made me (flawed and imperfect). If I can love my own child – flaws and all, why couldn’t he do the same with me? So, no… I didn’t trust him – not at all.

Then in a dream, you told me, “God is not the God of your parents. He is so much more… And he loves you. He created all of you… each part, and he loves all of you.”

It took me years to move past a concrete religion to a spiritual faith… And you led me there, Babe. Through your legacy, you led me to speakers and books that slowly showed me a different way to believe in God. Now… finally, your statement made early in our relationship makes sense… “Yes,” you said, “I am a Christian, but not in the same way you are.” At the time, I prayed for your soul… When honestly, you had the answer I needed.

Thank you for being my teacher, especially over these past six years.

Dear God, my love,
Thank you for this morning. Thank you for a faith of connection and love versus do’s and don’ts/who’s in and who’s out. Thank you for all the things that led me to this place… on this day… with these people. I am here this week, learning that I am not alone… That is my miracle today, and I am so very thankful. It is so wonderful to know, I really can trust you, even when life feels like it is falling apart around me… I just had to find you. No, you found me (when I was ready). And as you told me, “Linda, don’t worry. If you miss me (and I did for so long), I will find you… And you did.
I love you… Always and Forever!

It’s funny how those we love can still direct us even after they are gone. Bruce left a legacy that I am still unraveling and is still influencing my life… That is a blessing I never expected or knew could exist!

What about you? Have you ever found yourself reading their books, listening to their music or the things that influenced their lives? What have you learned? This journey can be so very hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. Please feel free to reach out and 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… Where Life Takes Us

Time changes nothing on its own…
That is my job now.
This is a journey.
It is mine…
I must own it to survive it.
~ Linda, September 2013

This next week I will be traveling… heading to a spiritual retreat in GA. While normally I avoid being still for too long, this time I am looking forward to some down time – time to think and process without all the noise of daily life and routines. I know I am going to miss my family here and my home… And although this isn’t a long journey, I know that after a week, it will be a treat to return home.

This is the way life is…. filled with journeys – true journeys and metaphorical journeys. It is how we grow and learn and develop. It is how we discover new things about ourselves and how we expand our lives. In fact, when we suffer loss, what is it called? It is called a grief journey.

Like all other journeys, there is something to be learned, but unlike other journeys, I did not choose this one. It is not a path anyone would willingly take, but for those of us who find ourselves here, we didn’t have an option. In fact, now the only choices are to move forward or stand still. Many times along the way, I have hesitated, not quite willing to take the next step… Eventually, I do manage to take a breath and put one foot in front of the other… moving tentatively until I can get my bearings.

Life, itself, is a journey. It takes me where it will – sometimes there are choices and sometimes there is not… Some paths are scary, and others are absolutely amazing…

For Bruce and I, our journey started when we met while cruising in the Virgin Islands. Therefore, it only seemed fitting that throughout the years of our marriage, we did a lot of traveling. Like any journey, you learn a lot about a person when you travel with them. Bruce and I were no different.

We learned right away that traveling in a car together for any extended amount of time was not the best idea. Why? Well, Bruce did not snack at all while driving, and he liked it completely quiet. I, however, love to eat, drink, sing, talk, and play games. (In other words – I like to be entertained.)

I can remember a particular trip from Michigan to Alabama when I learned Bruce didn’t like opera. I was driving and he was napping (or trying to). So to fill the time, I sang opera the entire way. Guess who was not amused… Go figure! We both laughed about that one for years!

I have written several times about the night Bruce died. A few times, I mentioned the ride home from the hospital… alone. At the time, I remember thinking that this would be my life now… always coming home alone to no one. What I did not realize was the enormity of what that would entail. For years that was my life… And it was quite daunting. I can remember on many occasions sitting in the driveway in my car… Not wanting to walk inside to the overwhelming quiet that waited there for me.

The expanse of just how lonely this journey could be began to dawn on me in the early weeks after Bruce’s death. I would turn the corner and see Bruce’s truck still sitting there in the driveway. My first instinct was happiness and excitement. Bruce was home! Then, it would hit me full force, and I would remember… Bruce was not home; no one was home. The truck was still sitting there, because I hadn’t sold it yet.

However, months later after selling his truck, I learned that coming home still wasn’t any easier. In fact, even now there are days when I find myself wishing with all my heart that he would be there to greet me when I walk through the door. I no longer cry or breakdown, but I do secretly wish for all of this to be a dream… for him to be there waiting to greet me with a hug and a smile.

Flying together, however, was a different story. Those journeys were fantastic! We would always snuggle up. (Yes, we were that couple.) Sometimes, I would lay my head on his shoulder and snooze. Other times we would play games on his phone or share a set of headphones and listen to music together. For us, it didn’t matter what we did; what was important was the time spent together. It was our journey… together.

This last year, I found myself on another journey… Learning to manage the path of cancer was hard, and while I had some absolutely fantastic people by my side the whole way, traveling that path without Bruce by my side was the hardest part.

Thankfully, I am blessed to still live this space that was ours. This space where I can still feel Bruce’s presence all around me. Perhaps it sounds silly, but the comfort this space has brought me this past year felt a little like coming full circle on this journey.

I guess what I am saying is we have no control on where life takes us… Sure we make choices, but we don’t control the whole picture… We can’t foresee the bends and turns in the path ahead. In fact, the best we can do is to look for the blessings and be thankful for them, love the people around us and find comfort in the simple things life offers… And while I still trip up sometimes, that has become my goal… my way of moving forward through this journey.

I have learned a lot on this grief journey so far. At first, I was so angry, I was resistant to learning anything. What in the world did I need to learn alone that I couldn’t learn with Bruce by my side? However, in time I have come to learn that isn’t the point. It wasn’t about Bruce and I being together until the end of our lives. Instead, it was about us being together and loving each other until the end of his life. I know we will be together again one day, but my life isn’t over.

My journey of love with Bruce taught me so much… My journey of grief has also taught me a lot, and Bruce still gets credit for that. Why? Because when he died, he left a beautiful legacy in his wake.

I constantly find myself trying to learn more about who he was and what made him tick by experiencing all the things I took for granted while he was here. I love to read his “go-to” books, listen to his music and try doing the things he enjoyed. I love finding notes he scribbled in the margins of books, on cards or just scraps of paper tucked inside something.

The funny part is while I am doing all those things, in my quest to understand him, I usually end up learning so much more about myself. I have learned that there is still so much more out there for me. As long as I have breath, l have a purpose… Without a doubt, I know I still have so much to learn and so much more to give back wherever life should take me…

What about you? Where are you on your journey? Where has life taken you? What have you learned? We all know this journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. Please feel free to reach out and 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Those First Few Mother’s Days

I remember years ago when my kids were little, they would ask what I wanted for Mother’s Day, and I would always give the same response… I just wanted a day of quiet – a day all to myself. Well, that first year after Bruce died, I got it. I spent the day alone and let me tell you – it wasn’t all I thought it would be. I found myself longing for those days of endless chaos. So, be careful what you ask for – you just might get it.

As much as I would love to “pretty it up” and make it more positive, it is more important to be honest about what my grief journey involved. So, I need to be honest about this day as well, and this is my story from those first few Mother’s Days… spent alone…

I love the fact that there is a day set aside to celebrate my Mom and Bruce’s Mom and all that they both did for us… without the two of them, the “we” that was Bruce and I would never have been. I, also, love that there is a day when my daughter is celebrated for being the fabulous mother that she is. My grandson is my whole heart, and as his mother, she makes that happen. My problem, however, comes when I try to apply the sentiment of the day to myself… This is where I struggle.

In the processes of leaving my first marriage, meeting, loving and losing Bruce, there are so many areas of my life in which I have grown and developed. However, Mother’s Day is a day I dread… There are emotions attached to this day that makes breathing a struggle.

To give a little bit of background, I was raised to believe that divorce is not an option… marriage is for life. So, when I left (aka – ran away from) my first husband, I struggled with guilt.

Therefore, after I left my first marriage, I needed to come to terms with what had transpired over the years, and how I had enabled the behaviors that brought to run away and eventually divorce. I also had to accept the fact that my job as their mother was to protect my kids. While I thought I was protecting them at the time, the reality was different. They endured quite a bit at the hands of their father, and I failed to protect them. Luckily, my kids turned out great (in spite of me) … but this is where my dread of Mother’s Day comes from… It comes from within myself.

For the first few years after I left my first marriage, we were still in SC, so it was easy to center the day around my mother and grandmother… I could ignore my own dread and put my energy into them.

When I met Bruce, he understood my feelings, but he had a completely different perspective. He saw me in a light without judgement. He wanted to celebrate what he called “the strength to leave” and likened it to the legend of a mother pelican.

On our first Mother’s Day together, after only 6 months of marriage, I didn’t expect anything from him – I wasn’t his mother nor the mother of his daughter. But he saw it differently. When I awoke that morning, he had a card tucked under the mattress on his side of the bed. He was absolutely beaming when he handed it to me. (I still have that card… and every other one he ever gave me.) Inside was a beautiful message of love along with 3 tickets to the opera for that afternoon.

Imagine it… Here was my body-building, truck-driving, football-loving husband willing to spend the afternoon at the opera, because he knew how much I would love it… and he included my daughter so that it was a “family affair” – exactly what the day was meant to be. I was (and still am) uncomfortable with this day, but I smile when I remember how he always insisted on celebrating me as a mother…

Flash forward to the first Mother’s Day after Bruce passed… I found myself struggling in a different light. The kids had been grown and gone for years… and without Bruce, I found myself alone.

Here are a few excerpts from my journal over the last few years. I wasn’t looking for anything really. I only wanted people to understand the following – if you know someone who is has lost someone that connects to their “mother role”, please, reach out to them… they need you.

May 12, 2013:
* It is four months today… and Mother’s Day… and I’m alone… it has been a really hard day. A few days ago, I wrote that I thought I was still here for my kids, but today I am not so sure… they are grown and gone with lives and families of their own. They love me. (I know that without a doubt.) … But I would not say they need me.

* My biggest issue is that I need to stop looking to my kids for comfort… that is not their job and it is not fair to them. Bruce is gone. I am sad. And I miss him more than I ever could have imagined – but those are my issues… no one else’s. I have to figure this out myself before I drive everyone off. I love them and they love me, but this will drive them away if I’m not careful… I need some courage – I am losing my confidence.

May 11, 2014:
* It’s Mother’s Day… I’m trying not to feel bad about being alone. I know we all live too far apart for anyone to come for just a day. I just find that “special” days are hard now that they aren’t so “special” – just another day.

* I just don’t want to be here alone. The kids have called or skyped… It’s funny how something so simple means so much. I know I’m not entitled to expect anything but would be nice to feel special.
May 10, 2015:

* Yuck! Mother’s Day #3 without you, Babe… alone…again. The kids have already started calling this morning which makes me smile.

* It is still hard to accept – I wish I had been a better mom. If I could, I would do things different… Being a mom was the one thing I always wanted to do and be when I grew up… and I really managed to screw it up.

* Today is one of those days when I am hanging on by a thread. I feel myself slipping into a darkness that seems to surround every thought. I need to turn this thought process around. I am trying so hard not to fall down that rabbit hole of self-doubt and self-loathing today, but it is hard.
Current reflections for the day:

Six years later, my Mother’s Day was wonderful! Life is different, but I am learning to adjust.
* Yes, there is still a lot of guilt and “I-wish-I-had’s”, but I can’t change the past… Only the future… And I work at that one.

* I still miss him… I wish more than anything I could physically be with Bruce, all of my kids and my grandson, but that is not where we are as a family. Instead, I got to talk to all of my kids, and spend the day with two of them (and my grandson). I was able to talk to both my mom and Bruce’s mom – a blessing beyond words.

* God did then and does continue to provide the love and support I need to get through each day… not just Mother’s Day… and I am eternally thankful for that.

So, whether you spent this day alone or with those you love, I pray today sent you at least one smile… from my heart to yours…

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… I Don’t Need to Be Fixed

How long will this pain live inside me?
How long will I have to smile at the world when all I want to do is cry?
I find myself pulling ever further inward…
No one understands.
They are not cruel… They care.
But they do not know how to do anything other than talk me out of my feelings…
or distract me.
They love me…
I love them…
But there is a chasm between them and me…
And another between me and you…
I am alone…
And it hurts so bad.
~ Linda, November 2015

It’s hard to watch someone you love hurt… It’s even harder to realize you can’t do anything for that person to make it stop hurting…

As a mother, I get that… When my kids were little and came to me with a “boo-boo” (real or imagined), there were all kinds of ways to fix it. Sometimes a simple “kiss to make it feel better” or a band-aid over unbroken skin was all that was needed, while other wounds required more realistic answers. However, no matter what, there seemed to always be a way to “fix” it.

Maybe you can relate? We want to be able to help those we love feel better… We want them to smile and laugh again. We want to have the answers, but the hard truth is – sometimes we don’t have the answers… And that can be hard to accept…

I think that is where I found a disconnect at the beginning of this journey…

Almost immediately, I started to hear the pointless phrases… Phrases that were meant to help, but in fact, only made it hurt more. I was so relieved when I found a book on grief that validated my feelings on these phrases and why they do more harm than good.

In case you are curious, here are some of these phrases and why they didn’t really help at all. Since they are pretty common, perhaps you have heard a few of these on your own journey…

1. “Bruce would want you to…” – When this phrase is used by people who knew him, there is some validity to be considered. However, when it is used by anyone who didn’t know him, it feels extremely manipulative. I’m not stupid… I know it whatever it was came from their own thoughts. However, putting Bruce’s name in front of it added some kind of non-existent authority (and guilt for me). Honestly, I felt nothing but resentment and anger the moment those words left their mouth.

2. “He’s in a better place.” – This is another phrase, which throws a bit of guilt at the person grieving. After all, I should be happy not sad, right? My thoughts were always a resounding, “No, he isn’t!” Was being by my side such a bad place? We were happy. We belong to together.

3. “God just needed another angel.” – Good grief, we all know life has a beginning and an end, but once again, here is another phrase filled with religious guilt. After all, he is with God, so I should be happy, right? My thoughts? Great – make me feel like God did this to us… Because a little anger thrown in God’s direction is going to be helpful, right? Honestly, God doesn’t “need” anything, life just happens (and sometimes it sucks)!

4. “It will get better with time.” – I am a list person, so I thought this one might be true… I hoped this one might be true… I did all the things I could find that should help, and while they have gone a long way toward helping me deal with my emotions and heal, so far, I would say, “No… Not really… not completely.”

5. “You need to move on.” – Really? Why? So, you can feel better? Let’s be honest… Life will keep moving forward no matter what we do. However, this phrase (said too early or by the wrong person) left me feeling guilty for being sad… Seriously? Everyone grieves in their own way and on their own time schedule… Be patient. There is time for healing and learning to live a new way. There is no need to feel rushed.

6. “You need to ____” – Why? Because they think so? Because it is what they believe they would do? Again… more guilt… Plus, does anyone really like being told what to do? Let’s be realistic, we all live life differently, and we will all grieve differently… and that’s okay.

7. “You can always remarry.” – Oh seriously! Let’s minimize love, marriage and relationships down to nothing more than a contract… If you think you can replace one relationship with another like paint colors on the wall, please don’t pretend to be my friend. I want people around me who understand love, connections, and commitment. (Honestly, this was only said to me by people who barely knew me, so ignoring it was pretty easy.)

8. “Fake it till you make it.” – When is that? And why? Is this so I will feel better or so they will? I thought it was better to work through our feelings not shove them down inside. So if I fake being fine, is that really helpful in my grief? Or does it relieve them from trying to fix everything? Admittedly, there may be times and places for this one, but it isn’t a mantra to live by.

Am I angry? No, and I apologize if I sound like I am. I am just trying to make a point… While the people who say these things mean well (and I do believe that is their intent), theses phrases can actually cause more harm than good. I know for me, it only pushed me further and further into myself. Whenever someone said one of these phrases to me, I stopped confiding in them… I stopped turning to them when I was “having a moment.”

It is sad to say, but these phrases only created more isolation for me, because I was worried that there was something wrong with me… I felt like no one wanted to listen anymore… I felt even more alone. It wasn’t until I read a book on grief, (The Grief Recovery Handbook, by James and Friedman), that I learned I wasn’t alone. I learned just how normal my responses to these phrases were and how they affected my grief.

But that’s not the end of this story…

I was also blessed with a handful of people in my life who knew right away, there would never be words to heal or “fix” me. These wonderful people stood by my side and understood that there was really nothing to be said or done to make the pain go away… And to their credit, they did what needed to be done… They never tried to “fix” anything. Instead, they spent time with me… They listened… And they held me when I cried… And those simple actions did a lot more toward helping me heal than any words ever could…

With the exception of, “I love you and I care…”

What about you? Have you ever felt like you were being pushed to put your grief aside? Has anyone ever offered empty phrases that were meant to help, but instead only caused more hurt? If so, you’re not alone… We all know this journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. Please feel free to reach out and 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.

Note: I apologize for the day-late postings last week and this week. I have been traveling where internet and computer use is either limited or non-existent. Next week, I should be back on schedule.

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