September 2023 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – The Rug

Trauma… There’s a word that has been popping up in the media a lot lately. It is also a word that has been a part of my story since the first time I went to counseling. In fact, (not surprisingly), it was the actual reason for that initial counseling. But what is trauma…

Trauma is defined on the internet as “a deeply distressing or disturbing experience; emotional shock following a stressful event or a physical injury, which may be associated with physical shock and sometimes leads to long-term neurosis.” That is good… That takes into account the event and the effects. While not as complete, I have defined it for years as “unexpected chaos”… Either way, the event seems to happen with no warning and leaves nothing but destruction in its wake.

If statistics are to be believed, most of us have gone (or will go) through some type of traumatic event at some point in our lives. Some of us will go through several. Honestly, I had never thought about trauma being a piece of my life until that initial session, when my first marriage with its abuse and chaos was defined as traumatic, as well as the loss of our first child and the uproar between the families that ensued. Through the years, there, also, have been other “unexpected chaotic” events which have left their mark.

Each time, I have gotten back up – shaking and stumbling, but determined to keep going… and (seemingly) each time, once I have gotten back up and felt like I had my footing again, someone or something has pulled the rug back out from under me… again.

I have often bragged about the healing that Bruce brought to me and my kids… How his infinite patience and unconditional love allowed us the space to learn how to trust again… how to live again… how to be ourselves… (in other words) how to heal.

The day before Bruce died, he had worked all day. That night, as he ate his dinner, we sat and talked and made our plans for the weekend. We kissed goodnight and snuggled in the bed before falling asleep. To my mind, there was nothing to warn us of what was about to happen in just a few short hours. But happen, it did. Unexpectedly… in the middle of the night, I was awakened to the awful sounds of Bruce dying.

I struggled at first to grasp what was happening, but once I did, my survival instincts kicked in… I called 911. I unlocked the doors. I started CPR. Then, when EMS arrived, I stepped aside and watched as the reality of what was happening (or not happening) started to sink in. I watched the line on the heart monitor remain flat despite all the attempts to save him. I watched as our world fell apart and crumbled at my feet.

There is no doubt that for me this was the most traumatic event of them all…

I feel that I had barely started to heal from all that came before. I had just started to feel confident in who I am. I had just started to understand that adult relationships are supposed to be about balance, mutual respect, and compassion. It wasn’t about power plays or rescuing the other person from their consequences or fixing their world to suit them. I was just starting to grasp, embrace, and live my life with these principles when suddenly… Bruce was gone.

Once again, just when I was starting to stand confidently on my own two feet… just when I was willing to venture out as my own person, that rug was viciously ripped out from under me.

Almost immediately, I felt as if I were thrown back in time… I couldn’t seem to find any of that healing and confidence I had gained with Bruce. Perhaps, I hadn’t learned how to find that within myself yet… Or… maybe (because of the crisis created), I reverted to old patterns of survival. If I am honest, I think it was a bit of both.

I wanted to make Bruce proud. I wanted to “do it right”. I wanted to regain all that I had learned and put it into action… But I couldn’t seem to find my way. You see, I wasn’t just lost in this world without Bruce – I had lost myself.

In the decade since that awful night, I have worked hard to get back to a healthy place again. It has been a slow process… a long journey. There have been times when I thought I couldn’t do it – when I thought maybe “this” was just the way I was built. But… (thankfully) there have been more times when I have focused on Bruce’s legacy and realized that I am stronger than I think… If he believed in me, then I can too.

Throughout this time, there have been other traumatic events… Times when that dang rug was pulled out again… and again… and again… Each time, I have thought, “How do I do this without Bruce… It seems like I am always doing these things without Bruce.”

This year has probably been one of the hardest… It seems like one event right after another – piling up like a cord of wood… And this month even more so, as this round of rug pulling seems to be throwing my very way of life into chaos.

This time, though, is different. I have spent this year working hard on learning to “be” – to be kind, to be honest, to be genuine, to be healthy, to be hopeful, to be… me. I have also found a solid space within my own faith where I am confident, supported, and at peace…

Peace… That is something I have not felt in a very, long time. Sure, the slogan of this blog is, “There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered.” However, learning to live by that slogan has taken some time (and constant hard work).

Yet, after the initial shock of recent events, I really am at peace. Don’t get me wrong, things feel a bit scary and out of my control right now, but I am confident that there is a reason for what is happening. I am choosing to believe that there is something even better on the other side of this situation… And here’s the best part… One way or the other, I have to deal with this. My choices are to do it feeling like a victim with no control in my own life, OR to do it with the confidence that I will be okay. I have chosen the latter… I can do this!

(And while I am absolutely doing this for me, I, also, think Bruce is smiling down and so proud!)

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know 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 – In the Beginning…

Last week, I talked about going back, reading earlier journals, and sharing some of my favorite memories. This week, I thought I’d share something different… This week, I thought I’d share some of my entries from those first few weeks. Between the shock of Bruce’s death and the impact of what that would mean to my future, it was a really hard time. I know the details of everyone’s experience are different, but that period of reality and adjustment is hard… for anyone…

One Week

Oh God! This is too hard! I can’t do it. God is expecting too much from me. It’s been a week – he needs to come back!

All last night I kept thinking that a week ago we were living our last few moments together, and we had no idea. I kept trying to remember his smile, his touch, that last kiss goodnight.

There are no regrets about how those last moments were spent. They were good. They were happy. They were normal… I just want one more hour – one hug, one smile, one more evening just snuggling on the couch. I need to lay my head on his chest while he strokes my back and tells me it’s all going to be okay. But I don’t get any of that, and it’s not going to be okay. I can’t even breathe without him. Oh God! How am I going to do this???

“When you’re grieving, that’s not the time to be brave or strong. You need to let it show.”
~ Zig Ziglar

Nine Days

This is awful! I’m so lonely. Today will be my first day alone… I’m scared…

It’s funny… when people came those first few days, they said they would stay as long as I needed them to… Now, nine days later, they are all gone. I guess it is just as well. I have to learn to be alone some time. I know they all have lives to get back to… I wish I did. I wish I could get in my car and drive back to my life with Bruce.

I can see how people die of a broken heart… This is way too wrong. We love each other – that won’t stop – I still Love him. Why take such a man? Bruce was such a wonderful influence on everyone he met. He was my exact match… I still love him so, so much!

“It takes strength to face our sadness and to grieve and to let our grief and our anger flow in tears when they need to.”
~ Fred Rogers

Ten Days

Last night was hard. Reality hit… I am no longer the center of anyone’s world. From now on, I will always be behind whatever else is going on in someone’s life. I understand that… it is the way it should be. At the same time, it is hard to know that there is no longer my Bruce, who loves me first and foremost. He had a way of making me feel so important. But that is gone, and I need to accept that… Is it okay to feel sorry for myself for a little bit, though? I hope so, because I just want to crawl in a hole. I know I am an emotional drain to everyone… I want to be happy, but it just feels so fake right now.

“There are things that we don’t want to happen but have to accept; things we don’t want to know but have to learn, and people we can’t live without but have to let go.”
~ Nancy Stephan, The Truth About Butterflies

Eleven Days

You’re really not coming back. That is so hard to understand… to accept. How do I pick up these shattered pieces and move on? I can’t. Please don’t ask me to – don’t make me. This is pain so great, so overwhelming that I don’t know how to begin. I can’t even pray. I can talk to you, Babe… sing to you, yell at you… but I can’t talk to God. I should… but the words aren’t there. I don’t feel mad at Him (at least I don’t think so). Yet, whenever I try to pray, there is nothing there. I can read verses and some even bring a moment of comfort… But I can’t pray.

Please don’t go. Please let me wake up and this be some horrible, horrible nightmare. I don’t think I can survive this. Everyone says I am doing great, I’m gonna be okay, I’m strong, etc.… But I don’t think so. This feels like more than I can bear. My heart lay in pieces… I can’t even breathe, and to move feels like a mighty chore. Survival is such a fight right now… It’s just that you were my whole world, and now my world is gone.

“Sometimes, all I can hope for is that I’ll feel more hopeful tomorrow.”
~ Martha Whitmore Hickman, Healing After Loss

There are so many things about Bruce that I miss even now. We had so many dreams of what our life together would be like, but for whatever reason, I was left here to figure all that out alone. In the beginning, I didn’t think I could survive this… but, somehow, I have. Whenever I feel like I can’t go another step, I remember him – his confidence, his smile, his love – and somehow, I feel a little less lonely and that next step a little less impossible. Remembering Bruce… remembering the love we shared… and I know that the love I still feel within is far greater than any I have ever experienced… and to have never experienced this love would be so much worse than this pain I feel now.

Thank you, Babe… Thank you for making such a huge difference in my life.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know 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.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Memory Lane

Before Bruce passed, I had never kept a journal before. However, when he died, one of the first things my mother suggested for the grief I was struggling with was to start a journal. I had no idea what to write or how to put all the feelings I had on paper in such a way as to be helpful. Yet, the minute I picked up a pin and opened that first blank book, the struggle was gone. My mother was right… This was going to be my outlet.

In the beginning, I write several times a day… There was so much weighing on my soul that I needed to simply get out. While I no longer write daily, I do write consistently. I guess with no one around to talk to, this is still a wonderful outlet for me.

This week, while filling out some paperwork, I found myself in need of some dates that were foggy at best inside my own head. My journals, though… they list almost every important event over the last decade, so that is where I went… And while I was perusing through, I found myself walking down memory lane as I read through the entries.

In the beginning, I was so scared of forgetting all the wonderful moments Bruce and I shared, that I started recording them in my journals. I am so glad I did, because there were stories and events that I had not thought about for years. In fact, reading these entries has been such a bittersweet experience, I thought I would share a story or two with you, in Bruce’s honor. After all, as long as his story is still being told, he is not forgotten…

January 20, 2013

On the first cruise where I met Bruce, we danced and danced – all night, every night. I was so excited to take the same cruise the next year as our honeymoon (with two of my kids in tow – LOL). However, on this second cruise, Bruce would not dance at all. He simply wouldn’t. In the cabin one night, I was upset and (actually) crying. (I had been so excited about a “repeat” cruise.)

“But I don’t need to dance now. We’re married,” he said. He wasn’t trying to be mean; he was just being honest… and a guy. He did finally dance with me… once. However, it was pretty clear, he didn’t want to. Through the years, he danced with me quite often – barefoot in the kitchen… but rarely did it last a full song.

Our last Christmas together, as we were figuring out new traditions (just for us) in order to adjust to “childless” Christmases, I told him that one new tradition I wanted was for him to dance one full song with me on Christmas. He actually laughed out loud, but he didn’t say yes or no. As for me, I knew how he functioned… I wasn’t going to get an answer. I would simply have to wait and see.

Christmas day came, and it was fun… There were gifts (of course), skyping with family, kayaking, drinks with the neighbors, and a (very) small traditional Christmas dinner. As we went into the bedroom for bedtime, I told him that I still wanted my dance. He smiled, nodded, and asked, “What song?”

I quickly put in Jim Brickman’s song, The Gift, since I’ve always told Bruce he was the best Christmas gift ever. He loved it. We danced with tears in our eyes – each of us overwhelmed by our love in that moment.
I will always treasure that dance. It wasn’t the last dance. (He actually danced with me repeatedly just a week later on New Years – all on his own.) However, this moment was private, tender… like dancing with my Prince Charming… and it ended in a kiss that I will always remember.

January 24, 2013

The story of the spoons… Oh my goodness! Keep in mind, this story is about two people who love each other, but also have a whole lifetime of living very different lives with very different ways of communicating.

So… I am a stuff person. Not like a hoarder, but I do like things that carry an emotional attachment (as long as each thing has a place where it belongs). Bruce, on the other hand, was a minimalist. (For the record, I’ve learned to find a balance between the two.) Keep in mind that when we married, I moved from my 3000 SQ Ft home to his 900 SQ Ft condo, which meant leaving most of what I owned behind. Now, take a moment and just let that sink in… As you could guess, there were times (in the beginning) when my invasion of “stuff” made him crazy.

On one such day, I came home from work to find him a wee bit crabby. On the counter, he had a long silver box, which he slid toward me as he asked, “What is this?”

“A Charleston rice spoon,” I replied warily – not quite sure where this was going.

“Do you need it?” he asked.

(Now, for those who aren’t familiar, a Charleston rice spoon is something every Charleston girl receives on her wedding day… It is tradition… It is a big deal.

“Yes,” I answered. “It means a lot to me. It is part of my heritage. It is traditional.”

He sighed. “Well, do you have to keep it in the kitchen?”

“It’s a spoon,” I answered, getting annoyed.

“Could you keep it somewhere else?” he asked with a bit of attitude.

“I guess,” I responded… At that point, the wheels started turning. Then, while he was in the shower, I removed every spoon from the kitchen and hid them in my dresser drawers. After all, if my spoon didn’t belong in the kitchen, then obviously no spoon belonged in the kitchen. Plus, all week, he had been talking about making French Onion Soup the next day.

“Let’s see him eat that with no spoon,” I thought to myself. “Ha!” (Yes, very petty and passive-aggressive – I am very much aware.)

The next day, I came home from work to find Bruce eating the soup with a measuring spoon. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Eating my soup. It’s good. Want some?” he replied nonchalantly.

“Why are you eating using that instead of a real spoon?” I asked, chuckling to myself as I tried to keep a straight face.

“I think all the spoons are dirty,” he said. “This was all I could find.”

OH MY GOSH!! I laughed so hard at myself!! He never noticed the spoons were gone… or he didn’t really care. Either way, it didn’t phase him a lick.

He was always that way – totally oblivious to my drama! (Which I learned quite quickly to give up.) What a great man! I love him so much! I don’t think that will ever go away!!

“The friends that we have lost do not repose in the bosom of the earth, but are buried deep in our hearts, and it has been thus ordained that we may always be accompanied by them.”
~ Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know 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.