Month: May 2021

Peace, Love and Grief… The Journey

“I cannot share thy journey, but I can walk beside thee.”
~ Diana Gabaldon, Written in My Own Heart’s Blood

When Bruce and I met and got married, I was still healing from 20+ years of domestic violence. It had left its tole, with a diagnosis of PTSD. On the outside I could smile and act like I had it together. However, there were many residual aftereffects that (try as I might), I couldn’t always control. It was not unusual to wake up in a panic with a need to just “get away.” I can also remember times when I just knew Bruce would be furious with me, because that was the only reaction I had known for too many years.

I’ve told this story before, but it seems appropriate to share it again today. We were in the kitchen cooking together – laughing and being silly. I poured Bruce a beer and went to hand it to him. Somewhere in the exchange, the beer left my hand, but missed his and ended up on the floor – a mess of glass and beer covering the entire kitchen floor. I looked at Bruce and completely panicked. I remember racing to the bathroom, locking myself inside, and sitting on the floor as I cried – terrified of what he might do.

After a few minutes, Bruce quietly knocked on the door and asked to come in. Hesitantly, I opened the door a crack… And he greeted me with a smile. Then he held his arms out to me, and I fell into them… So, relieved that this man was a man I could trust. After holding me for a while, we went back into the kitchen. He smiled at me as he poured himself another beer (in another glass) … Then, looking me in the eye, he held it out… and just let go. Beer and glass once more covered the floor. I was stunned! He, on the other hand, just pulled me close, as he reassured me that he loved me… always… no matter what… and he swore he would never hurt me… ever!

Days later as I shared this situation with my mother, she made the comment, “Bruce is not (insert ex-husband’s name).” She was right, and I would like to say that was all it took. I would like to say that I was fine after that… But learning to manage the memories and trauma of 20+ years can take a while. Bruce, however, never walked away… He was always there by my side. He couldn’t share what I had experienced, but he was determined to stay by my side as I figured out how to move forward.

I won’t lie. It took years before the nightmares and aftereffects were manageable… Then, not long after, I lost Bruce… In a breath, he was gone, and I found myself thrown back to those old terrors. Even once I thought I had my feet back under me, my ex contacted me with the same old verbal attacks and threatening language. My first reaction was one of panic. I sat in the middle of my living room – terrified. Then, it was like Bruce touched my soul to say he was still here… still by my side.

So, this time, I took action… action to protect myself. I knew I could do it, because Bruce taught me that I am worthy, and I am not alone. I know Bruce is with me… Still walking beside me. And whenever, I feel lost about what to do next, all I have to do is stop and remember…

Thank you, Babe!

It has been over eight years, and I still miss Bruce. I hate that he is gone. He changed my world and continues to do so every day. Because of him, I have had the tools I needed to survive this journey (so far). I have come to learn that this journey has a lesson built into every step and every breath. Thank you for the opportunity to share those with you. For all of us, it is easy to feel like this journey is nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. Yet, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. Sharing our stories is important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing 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.
Please do… This is OUR community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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… Things Do Change (Over Time)

Earlier this week, someone close to my heart sent me an article written by someone recently widowed. The accuracy of it was absolutely heartbreaking. To be suddenly taken back to those early days and all of the raw feelings and emotions… Well, I caught myself crying halfway through the first paragraph.

There were several situations that he wrote about that touched my heart so deeply that I wanted to about them here… Maybe just to say, “Don’t give up. While it doesn’t completely go away, it does get better… It just takes a while.”

One of the first things the author wrote about was the new title we are given, “widower” in his case, “widow” in mine. It feels like such an awful word at first. I can remember the exact moment when I realized it now belonged to me… It was just a week of so after Bruce died, and I was in the drugstore picking up cosmetics (or shampoo or something equally mundane). In the aisle ahead of me, I saw two elderly women walking together and talking. To myself I thought, “They’re probably widows… out together. That is what a widow looks like.” Then I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in a glass case as I passed, and realized, “No… That is what a widow looks like.” Then, as the tears started to roll down my cheeks, I said out loud to myself, “You are a widow.”

That led to the writer’s next thought, which was all about “losing who you are. Just as he portrayed it – you go to bed one night as “you” (part of a two-some). Then in a breath everything changes… Suddenly, you wake up and half of “you” is just gone. It feels impossible to find your footing when your whole world has changed. Suddenly this person who knew you inside and out, who shared your world and slept by your side day in, and day out is gone… vanished…

I know for me, there were so many days those first few years when the pain was so bad my chest literally hurt… So often I sat on the floor in the middle of our home – cursing God while at the same time begging him to let me wake up from this horrible nightmare!

But… time has passed… More than eight years actually, and with the passage of time my world has taken on a new form… No, not one I would have chosen for myself, but one I have learned to lived within. For example, …

The word “widow” … I don’t mind saying I’m a widow these days. In fact, I actually use it a lot. Sometimes it is my “security blanket” with the rest of the world… It says so much to the world that I don’t have the energy (nor do I want) to explain. For example, when I buy something for my home, I am often asked if they should be talking to my husband or will I need assistance with installation? Usually, I just look at them and say, “I’m a widow,” and those comments end right there. That’s it. I don’t have to explain a thing… For me, it’s kind of nice not needing to say anything more.

Then, there is the “losing who you are” piece of the situation. Yes… you do. There’s no avoiding it. However, after a while (perhaps a long while), you find out who you are all on your own… You might even find you like yourself and want to know yourself better. I still miss Bruce, and being alone has its challenges, but over all I have learned to be content with myself… And that is something I have sought after my whole life. So, while I lost who I was… I am learning to be happy with who I am… And I have chosen to make that a good thing… Although it has taken me a long time to get here.

Bottom line – I miss Bruce. I hate that he is gone. He changed my world and continues to do so every day. Because of him, I have had the tools I needed to survive this journey (so far). I have come to learn that this journey has a lesson built into every step and every breath. Thank you for the opportunity to share those with you. For all of us, it is easy to feel like this journey is nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. Yet, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. Sharing our stories is important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing 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.

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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… This is Grief

First of all, I want to apologize. I missed last week. My daughter and grandson were moving to their new home, and we were crazy busy… Then, I came back home, and it is so quiet. It feels weird trying to readjust to being here alone… again. I have had music playing (a lot) to fill the quiet… and it seems that one song keeps playing over and over – Josh Grobam’s To Where You Are. I love that song… If I could say anything to Bruce at this point, I think that song would sum it up…

“Who can say for certain
Maybe you’re still here.
I feel you all around me.
Your memories so clear.” **

Hmmm… I still miss him…

I read something last week that said, “Mourning is what we do on the outside, but grief is what we do on the inside.” I have to agree… I might even go so far as to say, “Mourning has its season, but grief, well, that’s forever.” I say that because I smile, and I enjoy life, but my heart? Well… That part still hurts… That part still wishes this to be only a nightmare… And soon I will wake up, and he will be sleeping right beside me. Then, he will pull me close, and I will snuggle into his arms… safe… and loved…

(Yes, I know that isn’t really going to happen, but how I wish it would!)

Recently, my book club just finished reading Barbara Brown Taylor’s book, Learning to Walk in the Dark. Each chapter is about a different experience she has had in the dark, and the spiritual lesson she has taken away from it. In the epilogue, she brings it all together when she says that the book is mainly about living with loss… all different kinds of loss. But loss is loss, and where there is loss, there is also a certain amount of grief. She explains that living with loss “is tough enough in any place or time, but it is especially difficult in a culture that works so hard to look the other way.” Then she goes on to say, “The suffering comes from our reluctance to learn to walk in the dark… to become more curious about your own darkness.”

This week I have had a lot of time to think on this… to become “curious” about my own walk in the dark…

I can’t say I’ve had any great epiphanies except that we all find ourselves walking in the dark at some point. (That’s just life.) … And we all have to figure it out… At the very least, we have to find a way to be comfortable when we are there… Because the bottom line is you have day without night or light without dark… or life without death…

I hate this “walk in the dark”… this grief journey that seems to have no end… At the same time, it is because of this “walk in the dark” that I have become more of who I am… I have learned to sit with myself. I have learned to dig deep and listen… But the reason I have been able to do this at all is because of Bruce, himself… Because he taught me how…

“As my heart holds you
Just one beat away,
I cherish all you gave me
Every day…” **

And in all honestly, as for me, I’m not sure I could have learned this lesson any other way…

Thank you, Babe!

To listen to the song in its entirety, click the link below.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PXnKt3Wclzo&ab_channel=JoshGroban-Topic

I miss Bruce. I hate that he is gone. He changed my world and continues to do so every day. I have come to learn that this walk in the dark has had a lesson built into every step and every breath. Thank you for the opportunity to share those with you. For all of us, it is easy to feel like this journey is nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. Yet, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. Sharing our stories is important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing 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.

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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.

** “To Where You Are” is a song performed by American singer, Josh Groban, on his 2001 self-titled debut album. It was written by Richard Marx and Linda Thompson and produced by Richard Marx.

Peace, Love and Grief… Telling Our Story

“You have to tell your story, so people are aware and see the value you know to be real.”
~ Unknown

When Bruce was alive, we wrote a lot of notes, letters, and cards back and forth to each other. At least once a month he would turn to me and tell me that I should write our story… And that he couldn’t wait to read it. I used to smile, but I never took him seriously. All my life, I had been told I wasn’t much of a writer. Shoot, I had never even kept a journal… Yet, he was persistent and never gave up – suggesting it over and over.

“On my silent days, I miss you a little louder.” ~ C.C. Aurel

Then, he died, and my world went black. I don’t just mean dark… I mean black… Black like being in a cave when there are no lights… Black like not being able to see your hand in front of your face…. Black as in I had no idea how to move forward… I wasn’t even sure I could still breathe. In fact, I’m not sure I did for the first few weeks. I was raw. I was numb. I was in total shock.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t look at your picture and smile.
Or cry.
Or both.”
~ Dean Jackson

Sometime in that first month, my mom suggested that I keep a journal… Just a place to write down all my thoughts and emotions and get them out… A place to let it all go… A safe space to release everything inside that I couldn’t seem to untangle in my own mind.

That’s how it started… I just wrote…

Some of it was coherent, and some of it wasn’t. Some of it was sad, and some of it was very angry. I wrote things I wouldn’t (or couldn’t) tell anyone (and probably still wouldn’t). Sometimes I go back and read a page or two of those early journals, but I can only manage a page or two… The pain on those pages is more than I can bear to think about (even now) … But it is a good reminder of just how far I have come since then.

“Some days I just sit and remember.” ~ Unknown

After many months, my journal became a place to share the things I was discovering about myself and/or my faith. It was also a place where I listed the things I was grateful for each day. Some days I was thankful for so many things, and other days, I might have just been thankful for being able to get out of bed to face another day. (That exercise became a great way to pull myself back out of a pity-party before I fell too far down into the deeper depression of grief.)

“Suddenly, she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past, but the lost future, not what had not been, but what would never be.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

I’m not sure when it became a place to write daily letters to Bruce, but somewhere in that first year, that is exactly what happened. It was like a “Dear Diary”, only instead it was a “Hey Babe”. I knew he would never see them, but somehow it made me feel better to write it that way… I still do. Sometimes I share my day. Other times, I share my emotions or something I have learned. Sometimes I share a poem I read (or wrote) or sometimes it is a quote or a verse that touches my heart… Whatever is rattling around in my brain is what flows from my pen.

It helps… a lot… I think it has become my best (and cheapest) therapy yet!

A couple of years after Bruce died, a childhood friend came into town for a visit. I wish I could say it was a great visit, but honestly, it just wasn’t. However, I believe one good thing did come of it… This friend suggested I start a blog about grief – some place to share my and Bruce’s story… some place to share my experiences and feelings with other widows… Some place to let them (and me) know that none of us are alone. Our feelings and thoughts are normal (if there even is such a thing) for our situation.

Over the years, I have told my and Bruce’s story many times. I have also written about my fears, my joys, my frustrations, and my celebrations. This has been the space where I have chosen to share things I haven’t said in any other space. Why? Because this has become my safe space… A space I share with the people who understand where I am and how I got here. People who understand that while grief can make somethings clearer, it can just as easily skew our thinking… And they don’t judge me for it.

Thank you! Thank you for allowing me this privilege to share not only my thoughts but our story – mine… and Bruce’s… A story that has value for me… I know he may never get to read it, but I hope somewhere… somehow… he knows I have written it… I am still writing it… Just like he suggested so many years ago.

“I have to let go of having you by my side. Holding your hand, talking face to face. But I will never let go of loving you, remembering you, honoring you and missing you.” ~ Unknown

I miss Bruce, and I love telling his stories. He changed my world and continues to do so… even now. I know, it can be easy to feel like this journey is nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. Yet, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. Sharing our stories is important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing 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, and this is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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.