Peace, Love and Grief… Laugh, Cry, or Turn Away

It dawned on me today that I have been keeping myself busy… terribly busy. I work a full-time job, homeschool my grandson, and if there is a moment when one might think I would sit and relax, I will find something to do… I think, (or maybe I know), that I am avoiding slowing down enough to think. Because when I do that… when I slow down enough, my thoughts eventually come around to Bruce, and the fact that he is gone. Then, it becomes way too easy to fall down that rabbit hole of overwhelming sadness.

Why now? I’m not sure, but I think it may be because these past few months are the hardest for me when it comes to his loss. I don’t know… Maybe it would be better to just let myself have a good cry and get it out. However, I am afraid that if I do that, I might not be able to stop.

I’m telling you this for a couple of reasons. First, I feel pretty certain many of you understand that. I am sure I am not the only one who still experiences prolonged periods of grief that seem to pop up for no real reason. Second, I am wondering if this avoidance of my feelings might be making me a little bit sensitive to other things… Although, that part I’m not so sure about.

I know I tend to be a sensitive person to begin with… I don’t tend to look for things to get upset about, nor do I take everything personally. Honestly, if you don’t tell me something is about me, it is just a lot easier to assume it isn’t. I’m referring to being sensitive to other people and what they are feeling… I just think if more people thought about how someone else might feel before saying or doing some of the things we do, the world might be a more peaceful, loving place… maybe…

That very thought hit me in the face this week… What if someone had taken just a moment more to think before sending me something that left me wondering whether to laugh, cry, or just turn the other way…

Like most of the world, I am in a few on-going group texts… No big deal… None of them have more than three or four people involved. These are my friends and family – people I love. When my phone starts to ping, sometimes I jump in and sometimes I don’t. It all depends on what I am doing, if I have time, and if I really have anything to add to the conversation… Like I said – no big deal.

A few nights ago, in one of those conversations, someone sent a transcript of a comedian’s take on burials. More specifically, it was about how bodies are “laid in caskets with pillows”, and “why”, and “is that really necessary”, and “where do we think they are going.” It’s a little bit hard to explain, but the moment I read it, I was instantly taken aback… Seriously?

I instantly felt like someone had just taken all the oxygen from the room. Granted, I do realize there was a degree of humor in it for some people. I get that… But there was no preamble or warm-up to it… It wasn’t part of a conversation that had somehow ended up there. Instead, it just came out of thin air.

And why include me? And why now? Anyone who is close to me has a pretty good idea that I wouldn’t find it funny… But there it was, and tears immediately came to my eyes as I thought about Bruce… My Bruce is gone… cremated… laid in a pine box and… all decisions I had to make…

I can’t… I can’t go there… When I do, I feel like I can’t breathe.

I know I did what he said he wanted. We even sprinkled his ashes where he requested… but it wasn’t easy… Those choices aren’t easy… and they aren’t a joke. When Bruce died, I had only been to four funerals in my whole life. Of those, I had never helped make any of the arrangements. I had no idea what I was supposed to do or how to do it. I didn’t know who to call. I didn’t know what to ask for or what choices I needed to make… And to be clear, they were all choices I didn’t want to make.

Honestly, since these are choices that have to be made immediately, I was still in shock… just going through the motions and doing what I thought people were telling me I should. I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember the people who helped walk me through it. I remember going to the funeral home with my sister and Bruce’s sisters. I remember they had to answer most of the questions because I couldn’t… At that point, Bruce’s death just felt like a nightmare and all I wanted to do was to wake up… To think that at some point, someone would think it was all a joke… something to be taken so lightly and laughed about… well, that stung…

The night the text came, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I didn’t want to react out of my own emotions (which I knew were too high)… Should I act like it was fine and send an “LOL?” Should I let myself cry and say how hurtful it was? Or… should I just turn off my phone and let them have that conversation without me? I chose the last option… I said nothing. Instead, I turned off my phone and turned away…

But… there is a part of me that wanted to say “Hey, that really wasn’t cool… You have no idea what you are saying or what you are laughing at.” But then again, that is exactly why I didn’t say anything… Because they truly have no idea.

The people who shape their world day in and day out… The people who make up the other half of their soul are still right there beside them. They are so blessed… So, I guess if I had said anything at all that would be it… Enjoy that blessing. Breathe in every wonderful moment that you are together, and hold them close… Take comfort in the fact that you have no idea how earth-shattering and hard those decisions are, or how awful it is when they are gone… I wish I had no idea… I wish I had the luxury of thinking those jokes were funny…

Please, don’t get me wrong. I know I have more of blessings in my life than I can count. This just isn’t one of them… And I guess it was a little bit hard to be reminded of that this week.

Death is hard, and grief, I believe, is harder. There are hard choices and decisions that have to be made. While for each of us, it creates a different path… a different journey, we aren’t alone. Yes, it can sometimes feel like an emotional roller coaster. Some days (or weeks) are better than others, and there are still other weeks where we wonder if we will make it through. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean… what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or 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. 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… The Room

Lately, my nighttime television go-to has been Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix. In one of the episodes this week, one of the surgeons was struggling emotionally in the middle of a surgery. When one of the other surgeons questioned her, she responded by saying that the room they were in was the same one where her husband had died just a few weeks (episodes) earlier. I know it is just a show, but still… my heart broke for her character.

It also got me thinking…

Have you ever driven down the road and seen the memorials on the side of the road? Markers of a space where someone died… Someone who was loved and is still missed. Sometimes it is a simple sign, and other times it is a decorated memorial with items that would have meaning for the person that was lost. It doesn’t matter how simple or decorated they might be, they seem to always catch my attention. Each time, a silent prayer for those who grieve that person crosses my mind… My heart breaks as I experience a glimmer of understanding into their pain.

Then, it dawned on me… Bruce died here… in this house… in our room… in our bed. Yet, I don’t struggle with being here. In fact, the idea of ever moving away is the thing that would bring me more grief. Maybe it’s strange, but I love being here. I love this space that we used to share. Even now, when it doesn’t look anything like it did when he was here, I find comfort in being in this space.

I think I simply love the idea that this space was ours.

When we were first married, I moved into his condo up in Michigan. It was our home, and I have fond memories there. However, through no fault of his, it always felt like it was more “his” than “ours”. Next, we lived in an apartment for a short time when we first moved here, but I don’t think either of us ever felt like it was our home. It was simply a temporary space… A place to sleep until we found a place to live.

Then, we found this little place… a tiny little house near the ocean that felt like us. Bruce added a few touches, such as fans, gutters, and new light fixtures, but nothing major. It fit us perfectly just like it was. We both loved it here.

Bruce loved having a garage to putter in, and the water nearby where he could take the boat and go fishing. We both loved the screened porch, where we could grill or just sit and talk. (Darts quickly became a favorite past time out there.) And, to make the space even more special, he made one of my dreams come true by building me a good, old, southern joggling board – something I still love to this day.

I can remember dancing in the kitchen while we cooked together. Then later, playing foosball to decide who would be the one to clean the kitchen. I used to love sitting snuggled up on the couch while we watched MASH or Andy Griffith before calling it a night. And… some of my favorite memories are those times when we simply laid in the bed quietly talking – sometimes remembering how we had started and other times dreaming about where we wanted to go from there.

There are so many wonderful memories within these walls! Sure, I remember the night he died. Obviously, that is a time that is engraved in my heart forever… but, luckily for me, that night has never stripped me of my love for this space and my memories of us. I know there are people who have been in similar situations and had different responses to the space. I am sure that for some, the pain is too much, and the need to leave too great. I remember before I met Bruce, I dated a widow who had moved less than a mile down the road after his wife died. He loved the town, but he couldn’t stay in their home. I remember he told me that he couldn’t handle having her memory in every room. That is understandable… We are all different and respond to our losses in different ways.

I know, when you are a widow, it can be hard to find things that are connected to your loss that you can say “thank you” for… I get it. However, when it comes to this home, I feel blessed! This house was ours,… and in my heart, it still is. Yes, I will never forget that this is the house… the room where Bruce died… But more importantly, this is the room… the house where Bruce lived… This is the place where we both shared our lives and our love.

So, for me this isn’t a place where I struggle to function… Far from it. This is a place where I still feel Bruce in every room. This is the place where I find solace and comfort all around me… This is the place where my heart finds peace.

Grief is hard. It creates a different path… a different journey for each of us. For some of us, this journey can sometimes be an emotional roller coaster. Some days (or weeks) are better than others, and there are still other weeks where we wonder if we will make it through. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean… what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or 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. 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… Grieving for All of Us

A house divided against itself, cannot stand.
~ Abraham Lincoln

This week, as our nation continues to divide itself, I am grieving… for all of us. I keep wondering how in the world we got to such a place… Yes, I know the history behind this week takes us back many, many years. However, I am talking about this newest phenomenon… I am referring to this space where the only opinions many people want to hear are those that mirror their own. Anything else and there is a complete and total disconnect. No longer is there a mutual respect, which not only allows for different opinions, but it also allows us to sit down and respectfully discuss those opinions.

But not in today’s world… not anymore. Now, we have friends and families divided – completely divided and turning on each other – and for what?? Because one side has to be the only right side? Because the idea that maybe that isn’t so, can’t be discussed or tolerated.

Just this week, as my daughter and I sat in a restaurant, we found ourselves whispering about the latest news stories – too afraid to talk out loud for fear of violence from the strangers sitting around us. When the waitress walked up without us realizing it, and tried to join in, we completely stopped talking… Again, too afraid of any repercussions that people today somehow feel are their “right” to carry out.

I grieve deeply as I see friends and families hurl insults and accusations at one another on social media… Or dig in their heels about theories rather than listening to one another, searching for truth and facts, talking rationally, and letting the constitution with all its checks and balances function the way it is meant to.

I grieve for all of this. I have friends and family on both sides of the political arena, and whether I agree with their opinions or not, I still love them. If we can have a respectful discussion – great! If that can’t happen, (and there are times when it can’t), I don’t hesitate to say, “We can’t talk about this,” and I move the conversation to something else… But it grieves me…

After Bruce died, I struggled to understand why that had to happen… And now, with all of this craziness, I am struggling again… struggling to understand this loss, as well. For goodness sake, how in the world did we let it get to this point?

While each person may be different, I honestly don’t believe this started last week, or two months ago, or even four years ago. I think this has been a cancer that has been allowed to grow over many years and for many reasons. For the mainline population, I think many people simply stopped holding the information they ingest accountable, as well as their own responses to it. People stopped looking for truth. If someone they trusted said something, suddenly that was good enough to be truth.

Then, to add to the mix, many people started getting so caught up in “their rights,” they forgot about responsibility and respect. I don’t know about everyone else, but I was always taught that our lives need to include a balance of all three – rights, responsibility, and respect… But somewhere along the line, we have lost that… And I grieve for that loss.

As functional parents, we would never let any of our children demand their own way, then fight with each other to achieve it. We don’t tolerate name-calling or let them destroy each other’s property in order to get their own way. Instead, we teach them to think rationally… to look for a better solution… to talk to each, get to the root of the issue (with our help, if necessary), and find a way to work it out in a peaceful manner. We teach them that violence is not the answer. Why? Because we are trying to also teach them to have respect and responsibility for each other and the family. Because we know, “A house divided against itself…”

So… why are we as adults not holding ourselves to the same standard?

I am not writing this to be political… I don’t want to start a political commentary or discussion. I am simply saying that I am grieving because I miss usAll of us… A group of vastly different people with various opinions who were once able to talk about those differences while still caring about each other and working together… with none of us demanding our own way…

I miss that… I grieve the loss of that… And I also hope (and pray) that enough of us feel this same way… Enough of us are grieving what we have become and are willing to work as hard as we can, in order to find our way back to one another.

I know, this week I have strayed from my usual topic… Then again, maybe I haven’t. After all, we all grieve… We grieve for all kinds of people and things… This week I am just happen to be grieving for all of us… every single one…

Grief is hard. For some of us, this can create an emotional roller coaster. As for me, I thank you for the continued opportunity to share my feelings and experiences with you… (Like the ones this week.) It makes me feel as if there are others out there who understand what I mean… what I feel.

It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or 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. 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… Not a Day for Celebrating

I haven’t heard your voice in years,
But my heart has conversations with you every day.

~ all-greatquotes.com

It’s hard to believe another year has passed without him… Eight years… I have struggled with this reality this week, and my emotions are all over the place.

Mostly I miss him… I sit and listen to music that we always had playing here at home, (Jimmy Buffet, Kenny Chesney, Bob Marley, and Rod Stewart). Each song invokes another memory… A moment in time captured in my heart. This week, that has meant the tears well up in my eyes and slide slowly down my cheeks. At this point, it feels like all the air has been squeezed out of my lungs, and my heart hurts – literally hurts. I usually end up just sitting down on the floor, either trying to pull myself back together, or I find myself talking to Bruce and telling him how hard this is… And asking why he had to leave me here… without him.

I have also laughed this week as my family has shared stories and memories about this man we all loved. I love to hear my grandson, who was a mere three years old when Bruce died, tell a story about Bruce. More than likely, he is remembering stories he has been told, but to hear him tell them, makes me smile… Actually, it makes us all smile.

There has also been another emotion this week. One I used to feel a lot back in the beginning, (but was too ashamed to talk about). Not one I usually have now-a-days. Yet, I have definitely felt it more and more lately… I’m talking about anger. I’m mad. I haven’t been mad – really mad – at Bruce for dying in years. However, with the chaos happening in our country, I am.

I’m kind of ashamed to admit it, but I am…

When Bruce was here, I always called him my gentle giant… He was one of those people who wouldn’t hurt a flea. That is unless his family was threatened. Then, that was a different story. He would do whatever he felt was necessary to protect those he loved. It didn’t happen often, but more than once I watched as he did exactly that… It might mean something as small as installing additional locks around the house or putting himself between me and whatever threat he felt was around. Then again, it might mean taking on a group of men down in the islands with no thought to his odds since there were four of them and only one of him. Whatever it was, though, he seemed to always feel like it was his job to ensure that those he loved were safe.

This week as I have watched the news and all that has unfolded (so far), I am scared. I am scared of where all of this may lead… I’ve said for years, this was the direction we were heading, but I have prayed I was wrong… Evidently, I wasn’t… And now, I have to face whatever is coming without his protection… And I know it’s silly, but that makes me mad.

And I don’t understand…

Tomorrow will include a lot of memories from our last day together – from the kisses as we left for work in the morning to the kisses as we crawled into bed that night. Then, I have to face Tuesday… It will be 8 years since I awoke in the wee hours of the morning to the sounds of Bruce dying… Once again, I will relive those horrific hours of calling 911, doing CPR, the ride to the hospital, the doctor telling me he was gone, sitting with his body in disbelief, the ride back home, walking into the house, seeing the disarray left by EMS…. And wandering throughout the house, not knowing what to do… Not even sure if I could even take the next breath.

I always take these days off from work. I have to… Not to celebrate… This is not a day for celebrating. A celebration is the furthest thing from my mind. It is a day of absolute and total grief for me. It is day of trying to make sense of something that makes no sense. I don’t think it will matter how many years pass, this day will always be a reminder of how much I loved him… and how much I lost… A reminder that life can change in a breath, and the best we can do is to hang onto those we love while we can… because we never know what the next moment will bring.

I don’t think it really matters how long you loved someone… I think grief is more about how much you loved them. Each year, we must face the anniversary of that loss, and it is hard. It is a reminder that we are still here, and they aren’t. For some of us, this can create an emotional roller coaster. As for me, I thank you for the continued opportunity to share my feelings and experiences with you… (Like the ones this week.) It makes me feel as if there are others out there who understand what I mean and what I feel.

It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or 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. 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… Another Year

Because when we experience the loss of a life partner,
we often lose someone who makes us feel seen, heard, and secure.

~ Dr. Katherine Shear

I can’t believe it is a new year… 2021. I can’t believe I am facing another year alone… Another year without him. Some days it feels like it has been forever since I last hear his voice, and other days it seems like only yesterday I was lying in his arms. It doesn’t really matter, though because either way, my feelings are the same – I miss him.

I miss my friend. I miss my lover. I miss my “partner in crime.” I miss having someone around who (for the most part) gets me. (And when he didn’t, he was pretty good at either faking it or going along with me anyway.) It’s like there is another half to my soul, and he filled it perfectly… but now he is gone, and that space is a void.

Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
Other times I smile and laugh
At the thought of our memories.
You were always that way…
Making me smile or laugh when I wanted to cry…
When the pain was so bad.
Now my heart hurts…
Truly physically hurts with the missing of you.
I feel your soul.
I know you are here.
But I need to see your eyes and your smile,
Feel the comfort of your arms.
I want to breathe in your presence
And feel your love in all these things.
But that isn’t to be…
All I have are the memories…
The memories of our love…
And…
Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.

~ Linda 2013

I am not an extroverted person. I’m not shy – I’m just not an aggressive conversationalist. I tend to listen more than I talk. But when I do talk, I like to be heard… Bruce was that person for me. He was the one who always made me feel heard. Even when neither of us was saying a word, I never felt invisible when he was by my side… A gentle touch of his hand or a certain look in my direction, and I knew that he knew… I miss that invisible, quiet communication.

I read an article this week about the loneliness of grief. (*) I think that is what I am dread the most… The loneliness that seems to go on and on. Yes, I have friends and family who love me, and I love them. We spend time together – we hang out, we laugh, and we genuinely enjoy being together. I’m not depressed. I don’t go around with tears in my eyes. I enjoy life, and we have a good time (even with all the craziness of this past year).

I guess what I’m trying to say it that it isn’t the same. If it were, there wouldn’t have been a space for Bruce to fill within my own soul in the first place. Sure, life is fun… I look forward to each day and what it has to offer. I make plans – I do things, and it is all great.

Yet, none of that changes the fact that this world is still a lonely place for me… without him.

Life moves on.
Time passes.
But my heart stands still,
Lost in a space
Where I can still hear your voice,
Where your smile still greets mine,
Frozen in this space
Where you should be…
But you aren’t.

~ Linda, 2020

* Here is the link for that article I mentioned: https://www.self.com/story/checking-in-podcast-grief-loneliness-loss

I don’t think it really matters if your loss is recent or if it has been a while, facing a new year can be hard. It can be a reminder that we are still here, and they aren’t. This can sometimes create an emotional roller coaster, because grief changes how we look at life and the world around us. It changes how we experience everything. Sometimes the best we can do is to just keep trying – don’t quit… don’t give up on yourself. And don’t be scared to reach out to others and ask for what you need. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would love to hear your thoughts or 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. 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.