Month: April 2020

Peace, Love and Grief… Your Birthday

Happy Birthday, Bruce!

Bruce’s birthday was this past week. When we were married, we always celebrated on the Alabama coast with his folks. After he died, I always spent it at the beach – either the one here or I would travel to another beach somewhere… But always at a beach somewhere. That was “our” space – any beach, anywhere…

This year, however, with all the Covid-19 restrictions, the beaches here are closed, and all rentals canceled. So, there was no traveling this year, and no going to our beach either. For days beforehand, I was really down. In the past, I have always made sure the day was about honoring his life and all the things he loved… somehow, I felt like I was failing him.

In the days beforehand, my daughter suggested I create my own “beach” here in the backyard. “Kind of silly,” I thought, “but why not.” So, I ordered a few items and waited…

Journal:
Happy birthday, Babe! Well, it hasn’t felt like much of a birthday. (Of course, I know a lot of people are in this same boat.) But I tried. I have managed to fill the day with sun, water, Jimmy Buffet, rum and lots of memories… I think I have replayed every Alabama trip in my mind. There are too many fun memories to ponder today. Good grief! What I wouldn’t give to celebrate another birthday with you in Alabama. It’s been such a long time since we’ve done that.

It’s hot as Hades here today, but thankfully, there has been a good breeze. I couldn’t make it out to the beach today, because of everything. However, I did put a water-filled tanning bed/pool under the palms in the backyard – flamingos, rum drinks, naps, reading, writing, and (of course) Jimmy Buffet playing in the background.

It’s been a nice day, Babe. The only thing missing was you… but that isn’t meant to be evidently. I wanted to honor you today, and all things considered, I think you would have liked it.

And I say “good night” at the end of another day…
Another day without you…
Another day on my own…
Another day of missing you,
And wishing with all my heart for one more moment with you.
A moment to touch your face,
Look into your eyes,
Kiss your lips,
And feel your arms around me…
How I wish!
But that is not to be,
Not ever again.
So, all I can say is,
“I love you, Babe…
Always and forever…
Happy Birthday once again
And… Good night.”
~ Linda April 2020

So, that was my world this week. Thank you for your thoughts, prayers and kind messages of love and support. I don’t know if this is something you can relate to or if this is something you are also facing, but either way, I would love to hear from you. How do you celebrate your loved one’s birthdays? Is this current situation changing how you will celebrate? If you would like to share your thoughts or 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… Do You Remember?

This weekend is a bit tough for me between special days, precious memories and a holiday. I hope you won’t mind if I simple share some of my thoughts…

Friday:
Hi Babe,
Do you remember? Do you remember when we moved into this house? It was nine years ago tomorrow. We were so excited! The first home that was ours… We picked it together and would pay for it together. You always said it was your early birthday present since your birthday is just two days later. I remember the excitement of moving in – deciding where to put each piece of furniture and hang each picture.

You and your Dad worked so hard moving all the “big stuff,” being so careful with things you both knew were precious to me. All the while, your Mom and I worked side by side unloading each box and stocking every cabinet and closet.

I replay the joy and excitement of that day over and over in my mind almost daily. You finally had your “dream come true” – a Florida home near the beach. I finally had my “dream come true” – a home for us… one that we chose together… One to live in for the rest of our days.

It took a few weeks, but we worked together unpacking boxes, hanging pictures, arranging (and rearranging) furniture, and filling cabinets and drawers. For less than two years, we basked in the glory of our “beach side” home.

Then… just like that, you were gone… And here I am – alone…

So many times, I just sit in the middle of the floor wondering where you are and why am I all alone? How, in God’s name, did it end up like this?… Me here… And you there? I can feel you all around me. Yet, I can’t see you anywhere.

I miss you so much that sometimes I can’t even breathe for wanting you so badly.


Saturday:
Hey Babe,
This has been a hard night… I’m not supposed to be here. I didn’t want to be here. I knew months ago that this would be a tough weekend. I still have Easter and your birthday to get through. I just wanted to be alone with you… at the beach.

Then, this virus hit, rentals were canceled as one way to keep people home, and so here I am… Trying to smile… Trying not to ruin anyone’s holiday… Filling baskets and hiding eggs, when all I really want is to be with you – quietly by the sea. I knew… I planned it… Yet, here I am – hiding what I feel (or trying to anyway) and smiling so I don’t ruin anyone’s holiday.

Nine years ago today, we moved into this home… our home. This is the longest I have lived anywhere in my adult life… And most of it alone. (Weird, huh?) I hate being here without you. Yet, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. Then, tomorrow is Easter.

Do you remember our last Easter? I woke up to an empty basket and thought you had forgotten me… But I should have known better. After a morning walk on the beach, I came home to a dozen roses. Then, you spent the rest of the day putting up a storm door on the front so I could have more sunshine in the house (something I had been begging for since we moved in).

You always had a way of making holidays something worth remembering… You always knew how to make me smile.

Sunday:
Hi Babe,

Well, the day is done, and it is nighttime. Everyone has gone to bed and the house is dark and quiet. This is always my time to just gather my thoughts… My time to think about the day – what has happened and what lies ahead for tomorrow.

Today was a really nice day, which is kind of surprising because it didn’t seem like it was going to be. First of all, I was kind of dreading it… Holidays can be hard and a bit tricky. I never know how it’s going to go because I miss you so. Today, I started off a bit teary and way too sensitive.

Honestly, I wanted to just sit and feel sorry for myself, but that seemed a bit silly. So, I put on a new dress and sandals, and decided I was going to make it a good day… And it was. It was quiet, but the food was good, and the company was better. It was just a nice family day. Throughout the day, I kept thinking how much you would have liked today, and it made me smile when your name was brought up and a memory shared… I guess I’m not the only one that misses you.

Tomorrow is your birthday, though… That one can be a little harder. I always want to spend the day celebrating your life – celebrating you. However, it’s not that simple… I miss you… and I still love you. So, I’m not too sure what tomorrow will hold.

When you were here, we always went to your folks’ place in Alabama to celebrate your birthday. Those were such great vacations! I miss those! I miss spending that whole week celebrating you – a week of sunshine, family, beach, and a little day drinking. We always had so much fun! It’s still hard to believe those days are done.

Tomorrow will be hard. With this “stay at home” order in place, I’m not really sure what to do to honor you… to honor your life… but I will try. I can promise you that as long as there is a breath left in my body, I will always make sure you aren’t forgotten!

I love you, Babe… and that’s forever!

Well, that’s what is going on in my world this week. If you think about it, I would really appreciate a prayer or two tomorrow, please. I know we all deal with life, loss and grief in our own ways. So, what about you? Do you ever have those times where it seems like there is too much to deal with? Where you wonder how and if you can make it through everything you are facing? If you would like to share your thoughts or 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… Looking for Springtime

Your Gift
In each breeze, let me feel your touch.
In each sunrise, let me experience your joy.
In each storm, let me feel your strength.
In the quiet, let me hear your voice telling me –
All is well…
Each moment was planned;
Each smile was for me;
And your acceptance of life was your gift to help me through this storm.
I loved you
and even now… you love me.
~ Linda, September 2013

Another year… And still I find myself waiting for springtime and asking, “Is there a springtime in grief?” Is there a time when life feels new again? When hope and joy fill us with the excitement of all things new and fresh? I know there is… And there are many moments when I feel it too. However, Bruce’s birthday is also in the spring (and rapidly approaching) … And while it is a time when I celebrate his life, it is also a reminder that he is not here…

Yet, if he were here, I know exactly what Bruce would tell me. He was a man who seemed to never lose hope. He was vigilant in spotting the signs of spring and in finding those things that could put hope into any situation…

We met totally by chance on a small sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands. One week was all it took and he said he knew he loved me. He would always tell me that through all the years after his divorce, he always knew there was someone out there just for him… Someone he would love and would love him back.

As for me, I can’t say that… I wasn’t sure how I felt after that first week. I found my own feelings overwhelming and scary. I could think of a thousand reasons why it would never work… For starters, we lived 1000 miles apart. (I was from South Carolina, and he was Michigan.) However, within 24 hours of leaving that ship, I knew without a doubt that my future was with him. Ten short months later, I moved to Michigan and we were married.

This man had not only captured my heart, he was the other half of my soul.

My move to Michigan happened in November. Michigan winter was just setting in and came as quite a shock to this little southern girl. I did not realize that a place could be so cold… and for so long! I didn’t realize the reality of the term “so cold it will take your breath away.” I had no idea that snow could fall continuously for days and then stay for months.

Before Michigan, I could probably count the number of times I had seen snow on one hand. So, that first year found me completely unprepared… This place was a whole new experience for me, and I had a lot to learn about living in such a climate.

When I moved to Michigan, Bruce had promised he would keep me warm, and he did everything in his power to do so. However, try as he might, he couldn’t shorten a Michigan winter or make it feel warm enough for this southern belle. In South Carolina, by the end of March, things are usually starting to warm up. (Plus, they are never as cold as Michigan). But in Michigan, there is still snow (either falling on still on the ground) at the end of March. That was unfathomable to me.

I remember one particular Sunday afternoon that first March. I was standing at the slider watching yet another snowstorm roll in, and the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I was so conditioned to expect spring in March – cool nights, warm days, flowers, birds, green grass, sunshine… This felt so wrong. I didn’t think I could handle another snowstorm… I needed sunshine… And I found myself wondering if I had moved to some winter version of hell, and this interminable gray and cold would last forever.

At just that moment, Bruce came up behind me, put his arms around my waist, and pulled me back to lean into him. As he held me close, he spoke softly into my ear, “You okay?”

I replied, “No… It’s never going to stop snowing.”

“Do you see that those branches on that bush?” he asked as he nodded toward a bush just outside the window. (I nodded.) “Well, keep watching them, because in about 6 more weeks you will see a miracle. You will see green buds appear, and you’ll know that springtime really does happen… even in Michigan.”

I would like to say that I smiled and answered, “Oh thank you, Babe. I will believe you and wait patiently.” But I didn’t… Instead I cried out loud and said, “SIX MORE WEEKS?? Are you kidding me? I’ll never make it!” That poor man… he just held me closer and let me cry.

In the years that followed, we laughed many times thinking back on that story. Every spring he would remind me not to give up hope… spring really would come… even in Michigan.

At this point in my life, I have spent many springs without Bruce. Each year I find myself remembering that story, and comparing it to my life now… my life without the man who really was my springtime… Like Michigan, this journey often feels gray and cold, and I find myself wondering if I will ever feel the hope and joy that life can offer as deeply as did when Bruce was by my side. Will I ever have that carefree, walk-barefoot-in-the-grass, life-is-wonderful feeling again?

I know… Bruce would say, “Yes.” I can almost hear him tell me to be patient. Spring will come back to my life… and when I look real close, I really can start to see those buds on the branches of my life turning green… And I know he would tell me to never give up; there is always the promise of spring.

I guess, I have learned through the years that the only answer to get from here to there is patience… something I have always struggled with. Therefore, I don’t pretend it is an “easy” answer. However, I know he is standing behind me, pulling me close to lean in to him, saying, “Keep watching… Springtime really does happen.”

Everyone deals with life, loss, and grief in their own way and in their own time. We will each search and find the “springtime” in our lives at our own pace. After all, we all find answers and comfort in various sources, which is what makes us all unique and different. I am only sharing my thoughts. What about you? If you are struggling with grief, loss, loneliness, please know you are not alone – We are here. 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.