May 2023 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief… Remembering the Good

I can’t even begin to count the number of self-help books and articles I have read since Bruce died. I seem to always have one that I am reading and the next one waiting on the bedside table. In the beginning they seemed to all be about dealing with grief, and over time, that has grown into many “side” topics that still relate back to grief in some fashion (at least, for me). Shoot! Even when the topic has nothing to do with grief, I seem to always find some tidbit I can apply that helps my grief journey move forward, even if it is only a baby step.

When Bruce first died, all I could focus on was the fact that he was gone, and I was alone. Nothing else seemed to sink in… Nothing else mattered. Everything in my mind was centered on the absolute awfulness of the entire situation – all the years left to be alone, all the holidays and special moments that would never be… The future looked bleak… Life wasn’t supposed to be like this, and yet, this was all I could see.

Back then, I felt so lost, even prayer was something I couldn’t find the ability to do. People would say things to try to make me feel better, but I couldn’t hear the love in what they were saying. All I could hear was what felt like judgement or a complete inability to understand what I was going through. I can’t even tell you how many times I heard that I needed to learn to look for the positives in all this – to rejoice and be thankful.

Excuse me?? NO!! I couldn’t do that any more than I could bring Bruce back… (And believe me, if I could have done either of those things, I would have.)

As time has passed, I have learned a few things about this journey… They aren’t big. They are quite small, but for me, these have made a huge difference in my ability to navigate this path just a little bit better.

1. God never said to be thankful for all circumstances. The verse actually says to be thankful in all circumstances. In other words, this verse is meant to be a reminder to look for the blessings around us, even when we are in the middle of something awful… like grief. It was never meant to be used in judgement or to make us feel bad about where we are emotionally. It is simply a sign on the journey… a reminder… nothing more.

2. As time passes, I think less and less about that terrible night when Bruce died. I haven’t forgotten it… I will always remember every last detail. However, I don’t think about it all the time. Instead, I find myself remembering all the good times… all the sweet memories we built together… all the love I felt when we were together… That is where my mind goes these days.

3. And because that is now where my mind tends to stay, I am finally able to pray for God to help me accept what I have to accept… To understand that death is as much a part of this life as breathing. You see, as long as I was focused solely on the negatives, I couldn’t remember the good things, and I couldn’t vocalize that prayer. Yet, when I am focused on the good things, the negatives turn out to be not so powerful, and I can breathe.

I’m not sure where along the line things changed, but this week, I realized that I have finally come to a point where the good memories greatly outweigh the sadness at least 90% of the time. That’s pretty good, don’t you think? I mean, sure… It has taken me a while to get here… and I still have a ways to go… But in the meantime, I will celebrate and accept the joy of remembering the good, and be thankful that I am learning to accept what I have to accept.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘be’ and to be comfortable with that… however it looks.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. 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.

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Peace, Love, and Grief… A Tribute to a Friend

I spent this morning with old friends back in SC celebrating the life of a fellow teacher… But not just any teacher. This teacher was a nun that started at our school not long after I started.

I wasn’t raised Catholic, so the only experience I had with nuns before that was from watching The Sound of Music. (Silly comparison, I know.) This dear, sweet nun, though, wasn’t like anything from Hollywood. (Thankfully!) She was her own dear, sweet person, and this particular dear, sweet nun meant the world to me. She touched my soul in ways I am still realizing years later. You know, they say you will likely never know the impact you have on others… I think that is so true. While she (sadly) isn’t here to read it, I wanted to write her a letter to tell her just how much she meant (and still means) to me…

Dear Sister,

Today, so many of us who love you gathered to celebrate your life. I can’t believe you are gone from us. As much as I know about death, I think there was a part of me that childishly thought you would always be here. When I learned of your passing months ago, I felt a hole open in my heart… A hole only you can fill. I cried then… and I cried today. It is hard to believe I will never again see your sweet smile or hear you say, “My love, my dove, my beautiful one.”

I didn’t know anything about nuns when I first met you. I thought nuns were supposed to be demure and passive. You, however, showed me something totally different. You showed me that a woman can love God and still be a strong force in this world. You knew what you believed in. You knew what you expected in others. You held all of us to a higher accountability… And we wanted to be there… I know I wanted that mainly because you believed I could.

I remember when it came to the kids you had high expectations around discipline. You did not mess around, and made your expectations known with no room for doubt. I can remember when the 8th grade boys were in trouble, they would beg to be sent to anyone but you… Not because you were cruel, but because none of us ever wanted to let you down. Yet, once discipline had been handled, it was over, and you once again called them “your love, your dove, your beautiful one”. Your love for each and every child (and the rest of us) was completely unconditional, (and we all knew that – there was no doubt). No matter what transpired, you always had a smile, and a hug for each and every one of us.

I remember times when you and I disagreed… But it was okay. You stated your thoughts and opinion, but you never tried to make me concede. It was a conversation with differing opinions – nothing more. (Or maybe you tried, but I was oblivious! LOL!)

Even when our family was splitting up, you were amazing. It was a hard time for our family, because divorce is hard – even when it is the right move. Ours also carried the weight of domestic violence and (still ongoing) threats. While your views were more conservative than mine, you were still supportive to me and loving to my children.

To this day, I still find myself sharing funny stories about our days teaching together and the many nuggets of wisdom you planted for all of us. While my faith journey has taken me in other directions, my faith and belief in God is still firm and you had a lot to do with that, because you were a perfect example of God’s love here on earth.

Thank you! Thank you for all you did so many years ago, and for all the seeds you planted that have helped me through the years. You were an amazing lady and I will always consider myself blessed to have known and worked with you on a daily basis for so long (and through such a hard portion of my life).

I love you, Sister! May you rest in the peace and love of our God – the God you served and loved so completely!
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone… and some days, it can be just a little bit harder. I don’t think any of us wants to be on this path, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. This year has been filled to the brim with challenges, but my goal has been to learn to simply “be” – whatever that looks like in each moment.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Excited About Life

One of this week’s journal prompts asked the question, “When was the last time you were excited about life? (Beside yourself in anticipation)” When I first read the prompt, I interpreted “excited about life” as being equal to happiness. This seemed pretty simple – pretty easy. In fact, just last weekend, I celebrated Mother’s Day (early) with a few of my kids by spending the day at Universal. We always have such a blast together, and it was so much fun! (The only way it could have been better is if we all could have been there.) I was so happy…

But… is that the same as “excited about life”? I don’t think so… I remember a time when I was truly excited about life… There was a time when I couldn’t wait to see what the next moment held – when thoughts of tomorrow were filled with hope and wonder. I remember when I couldn’t wait to wake up in the morning, or when the promise of a day off was the best thing ever!

I remember all of that… The thing is I haven’t felt any of that since Bruce died. Shoot! It took me years just to learn how to let go and feel any kind of happiness again.

I could almost guarantee you that my family and friends were getting concerned that would never happen. However, thanks to them, it did… And more thanks to them, those happy times have become more and more frequent over time.

But “excited about life”?? … I’m not so sure about that.

When Bruce and I first met, I couldn’t wait for the next email, or text, or (even better) phone call. It made life exciting. My heart was over-flowing in anticipation. Then, there were our visits… We took turns flying back and forth every other week between MI and SC. I lived for those weekends together… He and I kept a running count-down between visits of how long until our next visit.

After we were married, that anticipation didn’t stop – although, the circumstances changed. Suddenly, there was no more counting the days… I only needed to count the hours. If Bruce got home from work first, he would always greet me at the door with a glass of my favorite wine. If I beat Bruce home from work, I would run/skip to the door, because I was so excited to see him. Then, that poor man had to drop everything, because I was coming in fast for a “welcome home” hug.

Also, because of working different shifts through the years, there were many times when we only had one day off together each week… Talk about a count-down. As soon as one day together ended, we were intent on planning the next one. We both lived for those days.

But then, Bruce died… And all of that ended…

After that, one day looked pretty much like the next… and the one after that – wake up, work out, go to work, come home, eat dinner, and go to bed… day after day. Weekends were a little different. Instead of going to work, I worked on stuff here at home… But in reality, pretty much the same.

I’ve written about it before… The hope was gone… The anticipation or excitement of life was completely and totally gone. In fact, at the beginning, I couldn’t even find the ability to be happy – anything more was an impossibility.

Things change, though… I know this. I did finally learn how to let myself be happy again, and I love those moments in my life. But, I had to work to get there. It wasn’t just a matter of time. I had to give myself permission to be happy. Then, I had to choose to be happy. That may sound silly , if you have never been there, but it was hard, intentional work! Between the grief, guilt, and sadness, finding happiness and allowing myself to feel it – I mean, really feel it – took time and great effort.

So… since I know happiness is possible, I have to assume that being excited about life, maybe even being beside myself in anticipation, must also be possible. All I have to do is believe… and work for it.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘BE’ and to be comfortable with that… however it looks.

Peace, Love, and Grief… When Things Get Tough

What a year! It is only May, and… WOW! 2023 has been rough… really rough… almost as hard as 2013, (the year Bruce died), but not quite.

I have lost so much this year. I have lost family, and I have lost friends… And my heart is ripped to shreds. I am almost to the point of never wanting to answer my phone or venture out into the world again, (but I am hanging in there for now).

I know this is just the way life is… In fact, I can’t tell you how many times I used to tell my kids, “life isn’t fair”, because it isn’t – not always. Sometimes, life is wonderful – full of promise and blessings. Other times, it is not… Sometimes it feels desperate and hard – like there is no way out… no light at the end of the tunnel. Yet, I know, somehow it all works out in the end… I just need to hang onto that.

While speaking to my counselor this week, I told her about the grief and depression, and how overwhelmed I feel lately. It has gotten so all-encompassing, I can’t seem to hold my focus on anything… Shoot, even in our short 30-minute session, I lost my train of thought three times (that I can recall), and she had to prompt me on what I was talking about. She was so kind and patient. Like a good counselor, though, she never tells me what to do or think… She simply states the facts back to me, asks great questions, and gives suggestions on how I might work through some of this.

I think this week’s struggles have had a lot to do with some not-so-good news I received last week. Nothing devastating or urgent. However, I definitely have some major decisions to make in the next few weeks and none of the options feel great. So, for now, I am in limbo, waiting… and praying that some small piece of wisdom enters my mind and puts my soul at peace with a decision.

Of course, through it all, you know what I have wished for, right? Yep… Bruce!

I wish he were here… I would give anything to feel his arms around me, telling me that whatever I decide, it will be okay… or to have his input… To hear him not tell me what to do, but to ask me the questions that allow me to walk through each possibility to determine which choice is right for me. He was always so good at that… Helping me look past what other people want or expect, and instead, focus on what I need with a clear understanding of how that choice may or may not affect others. Ultimately, though, making the choice that works best for me… God, how I miss that!

For now, I think “acceptance” is what I need to work on…

“Acceptance. That’s where many struggle. As long as they keep saying, ‘Life isn’t supposed to work like this,’ they’re stuck in their confusion and pain. Once they can say, ‘This is the way life is,’ they no longer need to answer the question.” ~ Cecil Murphy, My Parents, My Children

… To not worry and stress about what to do as much as remembering not to give up hope… To sit in the quiet and let go of all the worries that keep tumbling around in my head… And to know that the answers will come in their own time.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘BE’ and to be comfortable with that… however it looks.