Month: September 2020

Peace, Love and Grief… Grace

Grace… There are several definitions, but kind of grace I am referring to is defined as “courteous goodwill” or “free and unmerited favor or blessing.” In other words, being “caring” or “being kind to” someone (period)… Not because it is earned or deserved, but just because.

I know the love between Bruce and me felt like grace. It was unconditional and ongoing no matter what was happening in our lives. We both had our good days and our bad, and we loved each other through all of it. So, when I say we loved each other, it was with the grace of unconditional love.

Of course, there were times when we were frustrated or angry with each other. However, when nighttime came, we put all of it aside, because when all was said and done, our love was greater than our anger. Every night, we kissed, went to bed together… And slept in each other’s arms. There was a grace between us that wouldn’t allow for anything less.

When Bruce died, I felt the loss of that daily grace down to the depths of my soul. I think in many ways that may have been (and still is) the hardest part to heal. You see, I had never experienced anything like that before Bruce… And I’m not sure I ever will again.

A couple of months before I met Bruce, I remember my mother saying, “You need someone to love you like God does – but with skin on.” … And that was Bruce… that was our love… A love filled with grace. So, when it was gone, I was devastated… Because it also seemed like all grace was gone.

I know in the beginning, I was so hurt and angry, I didn’t have any grace for anyone. People tried (in the only ways they knew) to reach out or to say the “right thing.” I think I did a lot of smiling on the outside while seething on the inside. I KNOW I spent way too much time dwelling on why this or that response was wrong or hurtful. And yes, they were… However, the hearts and motivation behind those responses weren’t. People meant well… They wanted to help. However, at the time, I couldn’t find the grace to see that.

It took me years to be able to smile with grace and see the love behind the statements that can hurt on the surface. Sure, there are times even now, when I have to smile and walk away, because what is said can still hurt. The difference is I’m not angry anymore.

Instead, I have come to feel a grace that is greater than me… And this grace allows me to see the love and compassion that motivated the response or advice. It is such a different response from me than in the past. I am no longer left drained emotionally or angry about those things which are actually born out of good intentions. In other words, the grace that started with Bruce and me is still inside me somewhere… It just took me a while to find it again.

But… This story doesn’t end there… You see, there is another person in need of that grace. Another person who, for years now, has struggled with showing that same grace to herself – me.

While I have no regrets about our time together, I still struggle with guilt about the night Bruce died… The night he needed me, and in my own eyes, I failed him. Yes, rationally I understand there was nothing I could do to save him that night. However, in my heart, I struggle to offer myself the grace of accepting that reality.

When Bruce and I were married, he showed me how to relax… how to enjoy life. We had our routine at night, where once dinner was over and things were cleaned up, that was the signal that work for the day was done… It was over. The next hour or so was ours. Some nights we sat and talked; others we watched TV or went for a walk. It didn’t matter… Every night we gave each other the grace to simply “be done.”

The weekends were similar. One day was spent doing those things we had to do, and the other was spent together… not working… but giving each other the grace to rest for a day and just love each other.

That is a grace I am still struggling to embrace again…

I guess since Bruce died, (perhaps to avoid the pain), I continually fill the time being busy. I seem to have “a gift” for finding things that need to be done. It has finally reached a point, lately, where I realized I won’t even watch TV without doing some household chore at the same time. In fact, allowing myself any “leisure time” has become pretty much non-existent.

Why? Why can’t I allow myself the grace to rest?

Honestly, I think there are probably many reasons. First, I think I’m scared to allow myself the grace to slow down and feel. I know how hard it can be to find the balance between feeling what I feel and falling into a deep, depressive grief wave. Another reason is likely that I’m not sure I deserve any time to rest, (which probably goes into a whole other can of guilt worms). However, the bottom line is I haven’t given myself the grace to say, “Yes. You can rest. It’s okay.”

This is the spot where I find myself lately. The spot where I offer myself the same grace that I offer others. The spot where I offer myself the same grace Bruce and I offered each other… The grace to “be done” for the day… The grace to rest and the grace to enjoy life… once again.

What about you? Do you know what I mean? Have you ever struggled to offer grace to others? How about yourself? Have you ever found yourself staying busy to avoid the pain? Or is there something else you do? Let us know… We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know that, as well. 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

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Peace, Love and Grief… Being Patient

“That’s what people never tell you, about the real fundamental, life-giving stuff you lose when someone you love leaves. You lose the part of you that only they knew. You lose some of your story. It simply dies.” ~ John Pavolitz

Bruce… God I miss him. While I have a few close friends (some related to me, some not), there is a part of me that only he knew. For whatever reason, he was the one I trusted with certain parts of my soul. He was the one who knew the secrets I was too shy or too scared to share with anyone else… And he loved me anyway. In many ways, he knew me better than I know myself… (Although, his legacy and this journey since he died have continually opened a lot of those doors for me.)

I think that is why it has been such a struggle since he died… Because that loss of self is so real and so true. I didn’t just lose Bruce that night. When I look at all the spaces he filled in my world, I come to realize that I also lost a thousand other things when he died. And one of the hardest is the fact that I lost a part of my own story that night.

It felt as if, suddenly, the book was finished. It was done. There was no ending – only a beautiful beginning and a wonderful storyline that for some reason just stopped. It was over, and I never found the resolution that should have come with the fairy tale I was living. We had lived “happily,” but I had lost my “happily ever after.” Instead, the story was over, which included a big part of my story, as well.

I guess that’s a part of the grieving process… Trying to find my own story again. It’s hard. I spent years feeling hopeless and lost. Then, I would tentatively take a step or two forward, but honestly, there is a guilt that comes with that. I can’t explain it, but for so long, I felt guilty for living my life while knowing that Bruce’s life was over.

As the years have passed, I have learned to move forward. I have learned my triggers that will spiral me deep down into grief, and I have learned how to push myself forward even when I don’t feel like it… But it’s still not easy. It’s a process.

“Widowhood is the long learning to do without the presence of the loved one. It is a task demanding the utmost patience, and a willingness to look, again and again, at those paths and places where the loved one walked, sat, lived, and slept, and does so no more.” ~ Martha Hickman, Healing After Loss

I imagine it might seem a bit frustrating to those around me. It’s probably hard to understand…

After all, I’m not who I was… I can’t be. For their sakes, I wish I could… That would probably be easier. But that story ended over seven years ago, and no matter how hard I try or how much I wish, I can’t go back. I know I’m different now. But aren’t we all? Don’t we all change and grow throughout our lives? Isn’t that what we are supposed to do? Granted, for some of us it might be a more sudden or extreme change, but none of us are the same person we were seven years ago.

Even now, there are times when I still feel so alone on this journey… so out of sync with everyone else around me… But that’s okay… I’m okay. Ultimately, life is a process… an on-going story. Yes, a chapter of my story ended and with it a big part of my story is gone… but not the whole story. No… My story is still being written… I just need to be patient.

I am so thankful for all the people who have supported me through the years… All those who have loved me and accepted that this is now a part of who I am. They have been a big part of my healing and their love has allowed me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. What about you? Have you ever struggled to find support in the midst of your grief? Let us know… We would love to hear from you. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know that, as well. 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… How?

How do you offer support to someone you love or care about when they are grieving? How do you show that you care about their loss and their pain? How? … Honestly, I don’t really know. I’m pretty good at recognizing what not to do. But knowing what to do is another story. I think, perhaps, it is a moment by moment answer… I also think it depends on the person… And your relationship. I don’t think there is any, one, perfect answer.

It has been years since Bruce passed away. And in that time, so many people have walked beside me in an effort to offer support… Just the fact that they have tried means the world to me. I know in the beginning I was too hurt… the pain was too raw… to recognize their efforts for what they were – attempts to show me love… attempts to ease the pain. There were times when I got angry at things that were said, and I wrote about it…

If I’m honest, there were some things that should never have been said. There are some things that seemed to invalidate my experience and my feelings. But… at the core of it, I know the person saying it meant well… I don’t believe the intention was anything but good. I just couldn’t see that at the time. I couldn’t see past my own pain…

I had no idea how hard it was for them to see me lost in grief and know that there was really nothing anyone could do to make it better.

So, what do you do for someone when they are grieving?

It probably sounds weird. Through the years, I have watched as friends around me lost family members and expressed their grief and emotions. And while I know what not to say, I still struggle with what I should say… or do. At this point, one would think I should know. Shoot, I’ve been there… I’m still there… But the problem is everyone is different. Everyone responds to grief in their own way and needs different kinds of support.

Then, you throw in the relationship part… How close are you to the person? Are you family? Are you friends? Are you close or only acquaintances? Do you share a faith? All of that plays a part in what you can offer… Or does it?

When Bruce died, there were people whose relationship with me had distanced over time, (one was even a falling out), but these people showed up in my life with so much ferocity and love. They stood beside me through some of the hardest moments. They held me hand and pulled me close as I cried. They listened to me until the wee hours of the night and never made me feel like a nuisance.

There were other people whom I craved support from who were silent… It was quite surprising. At the time, rather than counting my blessings of those around me, I chose to be hurt by those who weren’t. I say that because it was my choice… I didn’t have to be hurt. Over the years, I have come to learn that for some of these people, they were going through their own personal “hell” and just had nothing left to give. (I get that!) Others just didn’t know how to respond. (I get that too… now.)

After all, we live in a culture that has a low tolerance for sadness or negative emotions. For some reason, we have come to a place where we think life should just be about happiness and sunshine. So, when it isn’t, what do we do? Some of us shove those feelings down deep so no one else can see them. Others of us try to talk about it in a safe space, and others might “overshare.” No matter what we do, though, grief comes at a cost… We are changed… We will never again be the people we were. And if you are on the other side of the grief looking in, how do you respond to that, as well?

As I have watched on Face Book the last few months, several friends have lost family members to either Covid, a myriad of other illnesses, or simply “old age.” Their pain is hard to watch, and many of them I only have contact with through Face Book. So, what do I do? What is the right way to show support and show that you care?

I have found a few things… They are kind of general, but I think these will be my guidelines going forward.

1. Don’t be afraid to visit.
I know I loved it when people dropped by. I loved the surprised of a caring hug in the middle of the day. I loved the conversation that usual centered around memories of Bruce. I loved that someone cared enough to drive all the way out to my place just to spend a few minutes with me. That was amazing in my book!

2. Understand that people grieve differently.
This can be hard, but I think if we can just respect everyone’s right to be who they are, and grieve in a way that allows them to not feel judged for what they feel and how they express it, that would be huge.

3. Accept that you can’t “fix” their feelings.
I knew no one could make it better. I think it’s normal to want to try to take the pain away, but you can’t. You have to “allow” them to have their feelings and the pain that goes with it. Honestly, I didn’t want anyone to take it away. I knew I had to figure it out… Grief creates its own journey, and there are no shortcuts.

4. Acknowledge the loss.
Sometimes the simplest, “I’m sorry” can mean the world. There were (and still are) so many times when someone says how sorry they are that Bruce is gone. “Me too,” is my usual response, but it means the world to me that they care too.

5. Listen.
This sounds easier than it is. We all like to give our opinions or advice. But, honestly, the grieving person just needs someone to listen… That’s it… Just listen.

6. Lessen the load.
For some this might mean bringing meals over or running errands for the person. In my case, this meant going with me when I had to take care of “widow” business. I had friends who took off from work and drove an hour to my house (several times) so that I wouldn’t have to go to the courthouse alone to file the necessary paperwork. This kind of support meant the world to me… Honestly, some of those papers probably wouldn’t have ever been filed if they hadn’t been there to hold my hand.

So, have I figured it all out? No! But… I am trying. If anything good can come from my own grief, maybe this is it… To just share what I have experienced so that we can all give each other the support we need when we need it…

I still grieve Bruce every day. Every time someone I know loses someone they love, my heart breaks for them, knowing how that pain can feel. I am so thankful for all the people who have supported me through the years… All those who have loved me and accepted that this is now a part of who I am. They have been a big part of my healing and their love has allowed me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. What about you? Have you ever struggled to find support in the midst of your grief? Let us know… We would love to hear from you. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know that, as well. 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… God’s Grace

One thing I learned a couple of years ago while going through chemo was “your world can get really small when you are stuck at home for months on end.” It’s true… The longer you are home without socialization, the easier it becomes to fold inward… To turn so far into yourself, you don’t even want to be out in the world. After months of surgery, chemo, and radiation, I found myself being quite content to stay at home (and forget the world). Thankfully, my daughter and grandson pushed me… They pushed me to go out, to call people, and when the time was right, to go back into the office and renew my connections with the outside world.

However, this wasn’t the first time I had done this to myself… After Bruce died, I didn’t have to isolate myself, but in a way, I chose to. In my grief, I unplugged from the world. I lost my desire to connect and interact with anyone. I found myself, day after day, watching the world from my window, and my only reaction was… blankness. There was a void that I couldn’t seem to tackle. But… as time moved on, and with a lot of love and patience from those who love me, I gradually pulled out of that blackness. I can’t say I ever realized what I had done to myself. I was grieving, and as far as I knew that was “normal.”

However, after the “cancer thing,” I was able to take that step back in observation and see quite clearly how easily I withdraw into my own world… Whether it is an attempt at self-protection, self-preservation or whatever, doesn’t matter. What matters is that I have come to learn how unhealthy it is. Which brings me to now…

Ever since we have been in “Covid-mode,” it has meant a huge limitation on social connections. Our company has been doing the “work-from-home” bit since March. (Thankfully!) Plus, because of our own limited immune systems, we have been staying away from the world for the most part. Sure, we go to the store and have visited places we feel are safe, but our “people interactions” have been greatly reduced.

But… This time, I knew what self-isolation could mean… I knew how quickly our world could shrink… And I knew just how small our world could get, if we didn’t make a conscious effort to stay connected. So, one of the first things I wanted to try was a book club… I love to read and that seemed like a great way to get together (virtually) and connect with other people. So, the next thing I knew I was in four different book clubs. (LOL!) That is a lot to keep up with, but honestly, I am loving it.

One of the Book Clubs is a spiritual one, (thanks to Bruce and his spiritual legacy I am still wrestling with). This week in the book we are reading, I came across this passage…

“God has infinite treasures to give us. Yet a little tangible devotion, which passes away in a moment, satisfies us. How blind we are, since in this way we tie God’s hands, and we stop the abundance of His grace! But when He finds a soul penetrated with living faith, He pours our grace on it in abundance.” ~ Marjorie J. Thompson, Soul Feast

Immediately, my mind began to question… Does this include me? Do I tie his hands being satisfied with a kindergarten understanding of who God is? Never expecting anything more or anything deeper than the “Sunday School God” of my childhood? Is there grace for me too? I feel like I have been on this quest for God’s grace for years… Yet, most of the time I feel like I am chasing the edge of a dream.

Through tears, I shared this with my sister this week, and her response was the most beautiful answer, and one I will hold onto for the rest of my days…

“Of course,” she said. “You have had some really tough times. Your first marriage was awful, but God’s grace came in the form of those four beautiful gems – your kids.”

“Yes,” I smiled, thinking about how much I love those four… I would go through all of that again, just for the sake of having them in life… For the opportunity to love them and be loved in return.

“And,” she continued, “God’s grace was overflowing when Bruce walked into your life. Think about it… Because of him, you experienced both love and healing… Bruce was God’s grace. He still is… Even now, even after he is gone… because of him, you have been on this spiritual journey…”

She was right… This journey has changed my life and my view of the world. I am a different person than I was. This time the isolation and social distancing hasn’t torn me down. This time I have leaned on Bruce’s legacy of spiritual growth and love… And I am staying connected…

And I know without a doubt… Bruce was God’s grace – His abundant grace – poured out on me … And I have been blessed!

I miss Bruce every day, and I am so thankful for all that he added to my life… All the things that I hang onto now… All the things that have enabled my healing and allowed me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. What about you? Have you ever struggled to find God’s grace in the midst of the loneliness of grief? Let us know… We would love to hear from you. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know that, as well. 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.