October 2021 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… And Just Like That, It’s Halloween Again

I can’t believe it is already Halloween… again! My goodness! Where does the time go? Throughout my life – while growing up, when my children were little, and while Bruce was alive, Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. However, the season always seemed to start WAY before December… In a way, Halloween has always marked the beginning of an entire season of fun – A time filled with holidays and big events with Christmas being the climax.

To this day, I am so very thankful for the last holiday season that Bruce and I shared. The memories from that year are so very precious now. Although at the time, it just seemed like another holiday season. With Halloween falling this weekend, I am reminded again, just how precious our time with our loved ones really is…

Until Bruce died, I never really thought of Halloween as a holiday with special memories, but I was wrong… As I look back, over the years I can find so many small things that still make me smile….

For example, when we lived in Michigan, there were no Trick or Treaters. We lived in a second-floor condo which required a code for entrance. There were no children in the building except my (then) teenage daughter and no way for anyone to enter. So, no one knocked on our door yelling, “Trick or Treat.” We didn’t buy candy, and other than the shenanigans at work, it was just another day.

Then when we moved to Florida, we decided to live in an apartment for the first year until we got our bearings. With the exception of my (then) toddler grandson dressed as a pirate and one group of teenagers (who knocked on our door at 10 PM) no one came. Again, other than the shenanigans at work, it was pretty much just another day.

Then, we moved to the house where I live now…

I knew there were a lot of children in the neighborhood, so I bought three of those huge bags of candy and tried to prep Bruce for what was probably coming. For him, it had been well over a decade since he had answered a door on Halloween to pass out candy. At the time, though, all he heard was “candy.” As soon as he realized I had hidden it somewhere in the house, it was “game on”… He went on a hunt despite my saying that it was for Halloween – not him.

I will always remember the Cheshire Cat grin on his face as he walked back into the kitchen with a handful of chocolate. He had found the entire stash in the third place he looked. I couldn’t figure out how in the world he had found it so flippin’ fast! According to him, the fact that I am so short narrowed the hiding places down by more than half. Then, he just thought of where there might be enough space for three huge bags… All I can tell you is that by Halloween, I had to replace more than one of those silly bags.

On Halloween, he grouched every time the doorbell rang, and I laughed and poked fun at him for being a crabby, old man… The next year, our last Halloween together, was different, though. He was actually excited about the night and loved answering the door. I stood back and watched him as he talked to all the kids (even the teenagers). He even found a mask he had bought years before and tried to scare a few poor souls. It was such a fun night, and we both fell into bed laughing at the end of it.

Now looking back, I don’t know if he was just trying to enjoy Halloween or if he knew what was coming and wanted to leave me with some fun memories… Either way, that night warms my heart.

The next year was my first year without Bruce quickly, and the day became a challenge that I wasn’t expecting. To my mind, Halloween is a kid’s holiday. It really isn’t about adults or family memories… And to be honest, we had only had one really fun Halloween together. However, that first year showed me that Halloween would come to mark the start of what is generally a few rough months for me emotionally…

Journal: 10/31/2013
(morning)
“The first of the holidays – this one always feels like the “kick-off” for the holiday season. I don’t really feel like celebrating but I did buy candy. I woke up this morning, and I just feel pissed. I don’t think this will be a good day… not really looking forward to it – don’t really feel like festivities or anything like it.“

(night)
“Halloween without you, Babe! Too hard!! I miss you!! I keep thinking about you answering the door last year and all the fun. This year is hard, though. I am listening to Jimmy Buffet and wishing you were here… Six kids so far and I am crying. Maybe I should just turn out the light and call it a night.
So sad… just so very sad… What is – is. Nothing I do will ever change it. I feel like I shouldn’t be here, but I am… maybe one day I will understand why I am still here.”

Then, years later, I spent Halloween with my daughter and grandson.

Journal: 11/1/2015
“Hi Babe… This weekend was really good for me. I couldn’t be with you, but I was with people I love. I’m sure you would guess that we stayed very busy. You would have loved watching our grandson… he is more excited about his costume and handing out the candy, than actually going door to door to get any (which just cracks me up.) Afterward, there was an impromptu party back at the house. It was wonderful chaos – the house was filled with very tired but laughing adults and kids too excited to settle down.
Saturday included an Octoberfest at their school/church. You would have loved it – German food and beer. I only teared up once… when the kids performed their Fall music program. I know you were there… I know you were watching… but I still wish I could have seen your face. You and your little “Beaudroux” had such a close connection, I know you would have been beaming with pride.
The night ended with a dinner party at a friend’s house. It was fun, and they made me feel so welcome. I can’t say I like it, but I am getting (more) used to going to parties without you by my side…
It wasn’t until the wee, dark hours of the night when I was actually alone with my thoughts that the tears fell. My emotions were a little bit of melancholy, sadness, loneliness and (believe it or not)… guilt. I miss you, Babe. I still managed to have fun but then I feel guilty about that. Crazy, I know, but that is what I felt. I wonder if that is normal?“

Through the years, I have gotten stronger. While these next few months are still difficult ones for me, I have definitely gotten better at taking it one day… one moment at a time. I am better at enjoying the time with friends and family and cherishing the memories we are making together. I have also learned to give myself some grace… I have learned that it’s okay to feel what I feel… It’s okay to grieve the fact that my heart is broken because Bruce isn’t here to share any part of this anymore.

How we handle the big days can vary year to year, moment to moment. Sometimes we manage these better than other times… We’re only human, and this is a tough journey. What about you? How do you manage your big days? This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all. Honestly, none of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, (one holiday to the next), when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone. We are here for each other and, it is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so 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.*

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Peace, Love, and Grief… Contemplations

I have good friends.
I have good family.
I am in a good place.
So, why does it still hurt so bad?
~ Linda, 2021

Hi Babe,
It’s odd how life just continues to plug along… Some days it feels like only yesterday you were here, and other days it feels as if I have been alone and missing you forever. This is that time of year that gets hard for me… all the holidays plus so many of our special days… Sometimes I just sit here in the quiet… waiting… listening… wishing I could hear your voice just one more time… But I don’t… All I hear is the never ending quiet. A quiet that at times brings me comfort and at other times threatens to swallow me.

I love looking around and finding odds and ends that remind me of you. Sometimes it is a little memento of a special time we had together, such as a shell picked up while diving on our honeymoon. Or maybe just seeing your tools still in the garage… waiting. (You would be proud. I’ve learned how to use a lot of them.) Then, there are your books – books on fishing and sailing, books on health and working out, books on travel, and books on philosophy. Many of them I have read by now, and the others just make me smile because they are so completely “you”. Somedays I just love picking up a photo album, curling up on the couch, and thumbing through… remembering the days and moments caught on film – how absolutely precious these are to me now.

I miss you so much, and I don’t know if I will ever get used to living in this world without you… Which is kind of strange, since we didn’t even have that much time together… only eight short years. The thing is you changed my world so much…

Before you, I can remember crying and wondering if I would ever know what it was like to be loved… really loved… There was so much hurt and pain left by my first marriage. I had been convinced (by him) that I wasn’t worth loving. But then you came along, and suddenly I was loved – totally and completely! Everything I had ever imagined or wished for came true with you… I knew it was rare… I knew it was a precious gift… What I didn’t know was just how short our time together would be… That has probably been the hardest part to accept – our life together had practically just started, and just as suddenly, it was over.

Sigh… (It’s times like this that I have to remind myself to breathe.)

I miss you, Babe… More than you could ever know. And I love you… I will always love you – Always and forever!

I miss you.
I think of you and my heart warms.
So then,
How do I face tomorrow?
How do I face another day without you?
My heart was broken into a thousand pieces when you left.
How am I to pick it up and move forward?
I still don’t know…
~ Linda, 2021

I say this every week, because I believe it is important… this is not an easy path for any of us. It is not a path I ever saw myself on, and you probably didn’t either. I don’t think any of us wants to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all. Honestly, none of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Peace, Love, and Grief… On Being a Good Widow

Somedays the pain is so great.
Somedays it is too much.
But still I must put a smile on my face
And walk out to face the world.
I must pretend all is well.
But inside…
The pain is so great…
It is too much…
Too much…
~ Linda, 2013

All my life, I was raised to the “a good girl.” I can’t say I ever got it quite right, but that was always the goal set before me. I never thought it was unusual. After all, it was the same for (almost) all the kids I knew… That was the expectation – “be good.”

I don’t think there is really anything wrong with that goal, and I can’t say that I resent it at all. I just think there needed to be a clearer picture of what that should look like. Somehow, for me, “being good” became equivalent to being a pleaser. As long as I could make others happy (and not upset with me), then that was good… And I was good. And sadly, that mindset followed me into adulthood.

In my first marriage, when things got violent, I just kept thinking that if I could be better – a better mother, a better wife, a better housekeeper, a better “whatever”, then he wouldn’t be so mad, and everything would be better… I just had to be good. The problem, however, was this: what was “good” one day wasn’t “good” then next. Life in our house was a guessing game, and the kids and I were losing. It took me a long time to leave, and while logically I knew he was the only one responsible for his behavior, I was still ashamed. I was the one who couldn’t do it anymore, and a big part of me felt that maybe I should have just been better.

Then I met Bruce… And my whole world changed! He never asked me to be better. He never expected me to be “a good girl”. He loved me…. me! And his only expectation was that I love him back. I could drop all attempts at changing who I was to try to please him… I could just be me – the good and the bad. For the first time, I had “permission” to let go of all the phony stuff and just be myself… And I was still loved… not just a little bit… I was loved totally and completely… simply for being me.

What a blessing!!

Then… he was gone. Just like that, in the middle of the night, he took his last breath and left me here – all alone. To say it was devastating would be a huge understatement.

The first few months became a blur… I walked around in a daze, just trying to remember to breathe. Slowly, I became aware of the people around me. I had a great circle around me that was supportive. I also had a few people who wanted something else…

My grief… my sadness was making them uncomfortable. For them, I needed to “Get over it”… “Smile”… “Don’t cry” … “Move on” …

It didn’t take long for old habits to reappear. In my mind, I remember making the conscious decision that I needed to be “a good widow.” I needed to be careful not to make those around me uncomfortable. I needed to hide my grief and my tears. I needed to smile at the world, so that the world could be happy.

One day, I remember being admonished for crying, and being told, “How do you think that looks to others? How do you think that makes them feel?” So, I tried harder… And, over time, I got better at being “a good widow”. In other words, I got better at hiding my feelings. I got better at not talking about Bruce so often. I got better at pretending I was okay…

Only I wasn’t okay. I was imploding – slowly but surely.

How do I find joy in this when you were my joy?
I am sinking on my own.
I know I need to find some peace in this,
But all I want to find is you.

How do I reconcile what I know with what I feel?
I can’t…
Instead, I smile like a good girl,
Finding neither joy, nor peace…
Nor you…
~ Linda, 2013

Much later, I was to learn that this behavior is called “covering”. Covering is when a person “hides” a part of themselves in order to fit into the societal norms around them. (Most people in this world cover for something. I imagine, if you dig deep enough, you might be surprised to find what it is about yourself that you are covering.)

When I learned about covering, I realized it is something I had done all of my life… I did it in my first marriage, when I smiled at the world despite what was happening behind closed doors within my home. And here I was doing it again… Pretending this pain did not exist inside me… Pretending everything was fine, just so no one else would be uncomfortable… Pretending so I could fit into the vision they had of me.

For me, at the time, I didn’t know this behavior had a name. I didn’t know this is a normal behavior. I thought it was just a “me” thing. So, I started this blog. This became my safe space to simply be me… to express whatever pain or crazy feelings I was having on this journey. I quickly found I could express myself, while the people who know me could choose to read it or not. I wasn’t forcing anyone into my world of grief – it was an optional journey for anyone else. And because of this space… this once-a-week download of whatever is happening inside, I have been able to find some peace.

Over time, I have slowly learned how to be honest with the world around me while still maintaining a balance of not making everyone else crazy with my grief. More and more, I am able to be who I truly am, and that has saved me. It has allowed me to express myself in a way that more easily accepted… It might not be a permanent solution… It might not be the best solution, but it has worked for me… And because of this weekly space, I have been able to really and truly be “a good girl”, “a good widow” and more importantly… a better me.

I say this every week, because I believe it is important to recognize… this is not an easy path for any of us. It is not a path I ever saw myself on, and you probably didn’t either. I don’t think any of us wants to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out, I find I don’t at all. Honestly, none of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone. We are here for each other and, it is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so 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.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Like a Kaleidoscope

So many times, I heard (or read) the analogy that life is like a kaleidoscope… Each new twist brings a new perspective… A different way of looking at the same things… the things that make up our lives. That being said, grief has to have been the one thing that not only twisted the kaleidoscope but shook it up to the point that life as I knew it became unrecognizable.

“The death of a spouse or partner is different than other losses, in the sense that it literally changes every single think in your world going forward. When your spouse dies, the way you eat changes. The way you watch TV changes. Your friend circle changes (or disappears entirely). Your family dynamic/life changes (or disappears entirely). Your financial status changes. Your job situation changes. It effects your self-worth. Your self-esteem. Your confidence. Your rhythms. The way you breathe. Your mentality. Your brain function. (Ever heard the term ‘widow brain’? If you don’t know what that is, count yourself as very lucky.) Your physical body. Your hobbies and interests. Your sense of security. Your sense of humor. Your sense of womanhood, or manhood. EVERY. SINGLE. THING. CHANGES. You are handed a new life that you never asked for and that you don’t particularly want. It is the hardest, most gut-wrenching, horrific. Life-altering of things to live with.” ~ Kelley Lynn, My Husband is Not a Rainbow

I’ve never read anything more true! Everything in my life is so different than it used to be. In the beginning, I was so resistant to those changes. In fact, it took me almost a year to move anything of his – his clothes, his shoes, his books, even his reading glasses. I walked the rooms of this house just searching for anything that might indicate he wasn’t really gone… but he was. And eventually, I had to accept that.

It took a while, but I got there… I finally accepted that he was gone, and no matter how hard I wished and prayed otherwise, he wasn’t coming home… I was alone. Thankfully, I have some great friends and family who helped me go through things a little at a time… They were patient and didn’t push or rush me. They just kept telling me to do it my own time and at my own pace. (Thank God for those people.)

“Let yourself grieve. When something ends, it’s worthwhile to notice its passing, to sit in the space and look at the pieces before you head out.” ~ Sarah Bessey, Out of Sorts

Of course, time has moved on. Now, I can change and move things without feeling guilty or feeling like I am pushing him aside… I don’t want my home to be a museum. I want it to be a space filled with love, precious memories, and life as it happens now. However, it wasn’t an easy road to get here, and I would still put it all back if it meant I could have Bruce back, too.

This week, I was blessed to dream about Bruce two times. The first time I dreamed that he was sick, and I was taking care of him. In my dream, he just kept smiling and telling me that he loved me. I woke up smiling… It has been a long time since I heard those words and his voice… I knew it was only a dream, but it felt so real… and those few moments in my sleep felt absolutely priceless. (Honestly, all I wanted to do was to go back to sleep and see if that dream would come back.)

The second time I dreamed of him, it was just a normal day… just life… and the two of us. As I lay there, halfway between being asleep and being awake, I found myself wondering which was the dream? Was Bruce fine, and I had only had a bad dream that he had died? Or was Bruce gone, and I had only dreamed everything was fine?

I got my answer once I was fully awake… Sometimes that is the hardest… To not fully remember. Then when I do wake up, I grieve his loss all over again. Yet, at the same time, I love, love, love those dreams. I would rather have those dreams every single night and feel like I was able to spend a few precious moments with him, even if it means I will grieve and hurt when I wake up, than to not have those moments at all… For me, that would be worse.

Today while I was having my nails done, my nail tech noticed my wedding ring. “I don’t see that one very often,” she said.

“No,” I replied. “I don’t always wear it… It’s my wedding ring. I usually only wear it when I am really missing him.” Then the tears started, so I stopped talking. She gently squeezed my hand and said, “He was pretty special, wasn’t he?” And I just nodded… I couldn’t talk… there were no words for all the feelings rushing into my heart.

In that moment, I also realized that my kaleidoscope has been twisting back and forth a lot lately, and it has been throwing me off balance. But as I sit here and process everything, I know it’s okay… and I’m okay… I’m just missing him… that’s all.

I have said it before – this is not an easy path for any of us. It is not a path I ever saw myself on, and you probably didn’t either. I don’t think any of us wants to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out, I find I don’t at all. Honestly, none of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Peace, Love, and Grief… A Better Week

Well, as rough as the week before was, this past week was much, much better. Don’t ask me why… I couldn’t tell you. I can only say that this is the way of grief sometimes. For me, as time has passed, my good days overwhelmingly outnumber my bad days… Yet, even on my good days, I still miss him… I just seem to handle it better.

So how did I make it through that rough patch? It sounds silly, but I put my wedding ring on. Usually, it rests on the chain Bruce wore with his anchor charm and his wedding band, and I wear it tucked into my clothes. No one knows it’s there except me. Throughout the day, I touch it just to remind myself that I’m not alone.

However, when I am struggling, such as when I was going through cancer treatments a few years ago, I tend to pull it off the chain and place it back on my hand… Then, it becomes a reminder of the love we shared and just how amazing that was… It reminds me that I’m not alone… that I have been and still am loved – absolutely and completely.

Maybe for any of this to make sense, you should know the story behind the story…

Let’s back up a bit… Okay, let’s back up a lot! When I got married the first time, we were both still in college, and money wasn’t just tight, it was almost non-existent. So, instead of a diamond engagement ring, I received a pearl ring. I have always loved pearls, and this ring was lovely. I wore it for years!

Then, on our 10-year anniversary, my (then) husband called our children into the room to make this big speech and presentation about love and marriage and how he had always wanted to change out that pearl for a diamond… And so on and so on… You get the picture. The ring he presented me was huge, and I was completely surprised and overwhelmed by the whole thing.

With four kids and me as a stay-at-home mom, money was still tight! How in the world did he manage it?? Well, that answer came almost immediately. My ex shooed the children back outside to play, before telling me that he had purchased the ring as “90 days same as cash.” I now had 90 days to figure out how to pay the XXX thousands of dollars needed for the ring… I was floored! We couldn’t afford it. I didn’t want it. Yet, I didn’t dare ask him to take it back, because I was too scared of him and his reaction. So, instead, the kids and I lived off Cheerios, mac and cheese, and rice-n-beans for months as I struggled to pay for that ring.

Many years later, after our divorce was finalized, I took the ring to a jeweler. My plan was to trade it in for a Mother’s ring with each of my children’s birthstones. The jeweler was so kind, assuring me they could definitely work with me. As the she analyzed the ring, she kept going on and on about the value of the gold. However, she was totally silent about the diamond itself. Finally, I asked about the value of the diamond. I will always remember her words…

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” she said, “but this isn’t a diamond. It isn’t even cubic zirconia. It’s just glass.”

Are kidding me?? I could have cleaned that thing with Windex?? I had spent months giving my ex thousands of dollars out of our budget to pay for what?? (I’ll never know, but it wasn’t to pay for that ring… That’s for sure!) I remember laughing as I left the store… He had done it again! He had won and played me for a fool for the last time…

Now let’s jump ahead…

After Bruce and I spent a weekend sailing on Lake Michigan, he told me that he wanted to go look at rings. I was a bit surprised. We both knew we were in love. We both knew this was a forever thing, but we hadn’t actually talked about marriage. As we walked into the store, he asked me what kind of ring I wanted…

“Real,” was all I had to say. I was serious, but he just chuckled. I had no idea where to begin as we looked at all the rings. I hadn’t thought about it up to this point. Bruce pointed out a few that he felt would look good on my hands, (which are kind of small). Feeling self-conscience and practical, I chose a small princess cut. It would fit my hand and also not get in my way on the boat. I remember the smile on his face as he handed it back to the jeweler without saying a word.

Now jump ahead several more months…

The neighborhood where I lived had a tower that looked out over the river. One evening, as Bruce and I sat up there enjoying the view and the sunset, he pulled me into his lap, looked at my hand, kissed it, and said, “Something is missing.”

I had no idea what he was talking about; the trip to look at rings was long forgotten in my mind. Since I was always switching out what rings I wore, I thought we was looking for a certain one. Next thing I knew, he had pulled a ring out of his pocket and placed it on my finger.

I can’t even begin to tell you how shocked I was. That ring was the same one I had chosen, except it was twice the size (and it was real). I didn’t even know what to say. I can’t tell you the exact conversation. I can only remember the tears in my eyes when I asked him about the size, and he responded by telling me that he didn’t want anyone to ever look at that ring and have any doubt about how much he loved me.

Less than a month later, we found ourselves back in that same store selecting our wedding bands. Once again, I found myself looking at the simpler pieces – just a plain band to sit beside this beautiful gift he had already given me. He looked at those with me for about half a minute before he pointed out a band with additional stones. It fit perfectly with the engagement ring to produce one solid unit, becoming the most exquisite piece I had ever seen.

I remember watching the snow fall outside as the tears fell down my face as I came face to face with the realization that this man was the greatest gift I had ever received. On a personal note, I had already lost everything I owned, and was content with so much less. Yet, he wanted the world to know that I was worth so much more to him.

Now… do I think rings equate love? No, not at all… But his love and the sentiment encircled within this ring will always make it my most treasured gift. Therefore, last week, when I was missing my husband… when life felt so very lonely… When I felt lost and abandoned… I pulled that ring off the chain and placed it back on my hand… And there it has stayed.

Each time I look at this ring, I smile… I remember the man, and I remember our love… and my heart feels warm… So, … I know his intent was that he wanted the world to see that ring as a symbol of how much he loved me. For me, though, it is so much more than that… It is a reminder of everything that made us who we were as a couple – our love, our loyalty, our devotion, and our friendship. It is a reminder that I am not alone… I have been and always will be loved…

… And when I am sad and down, remembering all of that makes me smile again.

Once again, I thank you for giving me a safe place to vocalize my feelings – whatever they may be. I have said it before – this is not an easy path for any of us. It is not a path I ever saw myself on, and you probably didn’t either. I don’t think any of us actually wants to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I am figuring it out, I find I haven’t. Honestly, none of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone. We are here for each other and, it is actually our love for those we have lost that brings us together to this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so 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… 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