May 2024 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Choosing to Be Okay

This week, we had something happen that every Floridian dreads… The AC went out. Thankfully, we live in a small town and my HVAC service tech knows me, so they were out within a few short hours. Turns out, it is the same fuse on “the board” that seems to get triggered every season since this unit was installed.

This time, the technician recommended replacing the board while it is still under warrantee… Makes sense to me. So now, we wait for the part to arrive, (hopefully by Tuesday).

Now, I know me pretty well, and I know that in the past, I would have been in tears… or at the very least, I would have been in “victim mode” – resigned to spending a miserably, hot weekend in a sweltering house.

Not today, though! Instead, I immediately booked a hotel (with a pool, of course). So today, I am fat and sassy and sitting poolside with a cool drink in my hand, a book in the other, and a smile on my face… which makes me think… Where did I learn this? … and I can just as easily tell you… from Bruce.

I will always remember how easily he just went with whatever life threw his way. It didn’t seem to matter what it was… He was always okay. (So different from any of the men I have previously known.)

One of the first times I saw this in action was the first weekend we spent on his boat. It was about a 20-foot sailboat with a small cabin below. Our plan was to enjoy sailing on Lake Michigan during the day and to sleep on the boat at the marina at night. It all sounded incredibly romantic to me… and it was… until I panicked.

The day had been lovely. We sailed up and down the coast, stopping to swim or for a bite to eat. During the evening, we stopped to watch the Blue Angels perform while Bruce did some grilling up on the deck. Then, as the sun set, (which in MI in July is close to 11 pm), we started to settle in for the night. That’s when I realized he didn’t fit on the bed. He was at least 6 – 7 inches too tall, leaving his feet hanging off the edge.

Automatically, I panicked. “First of all,” he said, “it’s not your job to worry about that. I bought this boat. I am also well aware of my size. I am happy because I am here with you.” … And that was that… My heart soared!

That wasn’t the first or last time when we both knew our circumstances weren’t stellar. Yet, every time, he always seemed to be okay. Nothing seemed to faze him – even when he was laid off or when one of our kids needed some help. None of it mattered…

The bottom line was… his world didn’t have to be perfect for him to enjoy it… What a legacy! No matter the circumstances, he could always find something to smile about… something to make it okay.

So, as I sit by the pool today at a strange hotel, (one of the last to still have space on this holiday weekend), I can smile because life may not be perfect, but I can still enjoy it, thanks to a man who taught me that we are all only responsible for our own happiness… and that is always a choice.
__________________________________________________
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. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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.

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 – Choices

This week while, while reading a devotional about love, the opening question caught me by surprise… “How has fear dominated my life?”

Wait! Fear?? I thought this was supposed to be about love, but as I kept reading it dawned on me…

I can’t tell you where these messages came from or when they got so ingrained in my psyche, but (like a lot of women) somewhere in my youth, I “learned” several things:
1. Me… just being me… wasn’t “enough” for me to be worthy of someone else’s love.
2. It was my responsibility to keep the people around me happy.

So… If I wanted to be loved… If I wanted to “be enough”, I needed to never stray from doing everything in my power to keep others happy… Anything less was viewed as selfish and, hence, made me unlovable… And I was terrified of not being loved.

This, then, became a vicious circle that just kept expanding as I grew older, especially in my first marriage where the abuse instilled it even further – I wasn’t lovable because he wasn’t happy. It didn’t matter that I had no control over most of the things that frustrated him. It didn’t matter that he struggled with self-control and accountability. Due to the messages of my youth, fixing it was all up to me… or so I thought.

As I have written before, it finally reached the point of no return. I simply couldn’t do it (or take) anymore, and I left. I didn’t care if I went to hell… I was already living there. I needed find some peace… somewhere. I needed to learn how to be responsible to me, and I had no idea where to start. I had been a people pleaser for as long as I could remember. I didn’t know any other way to “be” …

… Until I met Bruce… This man… This loving, gentle man changed my world. He was always grateful when I did kind things or went out of my way to make him happy, but he also made a point of letting me know that it was not expected. He never saw his happiness as my responsibility, and even encouraged my independence.

Because of this, even though we were married, we kept a lot of things separate – not because of a lack of trust, but because we were two independent people… We kept separate bank accounts, (although we each listed the other on the account in case of emergencies); I kept my maiden name; we bought our own groceries, and (usually) cooked our own meals (although we ate together); we did our own laundry… and the list goes on.

So why bother being married? For us, the answer lay in the fact that we were two independent people who were hopelessly in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible, while still living within our own morals… No judgement on how someone else chooses to do that – this was just the way we chose to do it.

I remember one rainy Sunday afternoon; we sat cuddling up on the couch. Bruce was watching sports of some kind, while I read a book. We were both doing our own things, and still able to enjoy just being together. Per normal, I was reading some kind of self-improvement book, (remember – “never enough”). I paused reading during a commercial and asked him what he needed from me as his wife… What I could I do to make it easier for him to love me?

Bruce took the book out of my hands and placed it on the coffee table in front of us, pulled me closer, looked me in the eye, and said, “You don’t need to do anything for me to love you. I just do. It is that simple… And all I will ever ask of you is to love me back.”

That stuck with me… Granted, the people pleasing had become a habit, and it was a hard one to break. Yet, over the years, with his encouragement, I started apologizing less and less for things that weren’t mine to own. I started learning to let others have their feelings and figure things out for themselves. Due to the habits I had created, this caused definite shifts in some relationships, but with time, these also found a way to exist in a healthier manner.

Then, he died… I was alone… My support was gone… The unconditional love that had given me confidence was gone. I felt abandoned, unloved, and unlovable… all the things I have always feared and more… So, I did what I had always done – I went back to the old habit of taking on everyone else’s happiness in order to be loved in some way… any way… no matter how small.

Throughout all of this time, I had been in and out of therapy. I would go for a while, start to feel better and thinking I had a solid plan, I would stop until something else popped up… and so on and so on. A couple of years ago, though, I started again, only this time, I have stuck with it. I have found help in the rough patches and growth in the good.

I have learned that my feelings of not being enough aren’t that unusual… Neither is my propensity for people pleasing. I have learned that “bad” things just happen in life. Each person’s response to that is up to them. We all have the choice to either accept it, reject it, or to try to micromanage the situation.

If we choose to micromanage it, we can either try to micromanage the actions of others to align with our own – using love and rejection as the “prizes”, (also called abuse), or we can micromanage ourselves using people pleasing to “buy” their love/friendship (also called enabling). Neither one is healthy and neither one can create a healthy relationship.

This is why my relationship with Bruce was so good… so healthy… because with him, I learned to accept the things I couldn’t change, as well as the things that weren’t my responsibility to fix. I learned that healthy relationships come by allowing each person to be who they are and respecting our differences… finding balance in my life by setting boundaries for myself (no one else) … because, after all, that is the only part of my world where I have any real control… myself… and only myself.

This last year, I have learned that I can be kind without losing who I am. I have, also, learned that by allowing fear to dominate my life, I lost my ability to be me. This meant others couldn’t love me because they didn’t know me. It really was a vicious circle. Now, though, my relationships, however they stand, are at least honest on my end. If someone loves me for me, GREAT! If they can’t, I am sad and it hurts, but I accept it… No more changing who I am to try to become someone else’s version of me.

I have learned how to love and how to be loved… Thank you, Babe, for your legacy which has supported me on this road. <3

__________________________________________________
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. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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.

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

Walking with Bruce

Currently, I am in Colorado for business. I lived here years ago, but because of the circumstances at that time, I rarely went out to see the local area. This time seemed to be starting off similarly. Throughout the week, I was just too busy to really do any exploring – leaving the hotel around 6:30 am and returning about 12 hours later.

However, today I woke up to sunny skies and decided I wanted to do something… anything… outside. I wanted to see this place and be able to appreciate the beauty here that is so different than back home. My hotel is not too far from the local botanical gardens, which sounded perfect. I could spend a few hours outside in nature, walking trails with no worries whatsoever about safety despite being alone.

As I was walking up to the ticket booth, two women about my same age offered to let me enter with them on their pass. I didn’t know what to say at first. They quickly assured me that I didn’t need to stay with them… They have three passes and whenever they come, they always offer to let someone in… Today it was me.

(Before I go any further, let me just say… It was the most beautiful, joy-filled morning!)

Almost immediately upon walking in, precious memories started popping into my mind…

It was my second Mother’s Day with Bruce. Knowing that Mother’s Day was always a struggle for me, Bruce always made sure it was a day where I felt loved. (Although, to his credit, he made me feel loved every day.)

On this Mother’s Day, Bruce had made his delicious biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast since it was my favorite. Afterward, he said he had a plan for the morning, but it was a surprise. All he would tell me was to wear jeans and my tennis shoes. No matter how much I begged, he wasn’t telling me anything more. Every answer came with a grin and was the same – “It’s a surprise.”

The surprise ended up being a series of trails along a lake that was less than a mile from our house. It was so beautiful and peaceful. Being spring, the flowers were just starting to bloom. There were swans in the lake, along with several beaver damns. Being Mother’s Day morning, there didn’t seem to be another soul around. It was just the two of us, and it felt like heaven.

We walked and talked for hours. Bruce shared how this was the space where he felt closest to God, not in a man-made building but out in nature. I couldn’t agree more. It was a beautiful day… and one we repeated often over the years. This space became one of our favorite places to spend a Sunday morning.

So today as I walked along the seemingly endless, meandering trails, I could almost feel Bruce right there next to me. I can’t even begin to explain the joy and comfort I felt. Even now, as I write this, I can close my eyes and remember… I can feel my hand in his… I can hear his voice telling me that he wanted to spend the rest of his days… with me… like this… together…

Me too, Babe… me too…
__________________________________________________
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. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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 – Grief and Anger

This week I started watching the series Breaking Bad on Netflix. (So far, despite the violence, I have found it quite interesting.) In the episode I watched last night, the family is having a meeting to try to convince the main character to pursue radical, “live saving” medical treatment, which he is not inclined to do.

As I sat there watching, I found myself understanding both sides of the argument. I have been the person with cancer, and I have been the family of someone who decided not to pursue that “lifesaving” treatment. It was weird, because suddenly I was feeling the emotions from both sides… and that was quite contradictory.

Let me back up quite a bit to explain…

Well before Bruce and I ever left MI, he had watched both his mother and his sister go through the ravages of cancer treatments. It was heartbreaking to watch the tears form in his eyes whenever he spoke about it. I even remember one conversation where we both stated that we weren’t so sure either of us would do that… Was it worth it? … The life-style changes? The health issues that follow because of that “lifesaving” treatment? Was the goal to truly live your life or to simply breathe and survive?

(Here, I need to state that both of these women have left me in awe… Both underwent very radical treatments and have gone forward to live their lives with more gusto and fullness than I could ever imagine even on my healthiest of days.)

Now fast-forward to our move to Florida. Bruce had been laid-off for quite a while. Now, whether it was inactivity or the lack of a work distraction, he started noticing some health issues and made a doctor’s appointment. Since Bruce was not one to go to the doctor unless he absolutely had to, this caught my attention. I knew if he was that concerned about what he was feeling, I needed to be concerned too.

The day of his appointment came and went. A week or two later, he returned to discuss all the test results… This is where it got weird…

That evening at dinner, I asked Bruce how the appointment had gone. (Knowing how private Bruce was, I knew I needed to ask in an indirect way… Still, he had shared some of his concerns, so I felt it was okay to at least inquire.)

“Fine,” he said, never looking me in the eye. “She told me to just keep doing what I’m doing.”

“No way,” I responded, knowing that he was not the picture of healthy living at that time. “You’re lying.”

“No, I swear,” he answered, finally looking at me. “She told me to just keep doing what I’m doing.”

“So, everything is fine?”

“I guess so.”

For years, I have gone through this conversation in my head over and over. I will bet the conversation was more than likely one of… “If you aren’t going to do __________, then just keep doing what you’re doing.” I say this because so many things suddenly started happening.

For example, after more than a year of stalling, suddenly Bruce was on a mission to buy a house – someplace where “the mortgage could be managed easily on one salary”. (I can’t tell you how many times I heard that.) After we found that home, his next mission was to double his life insurance policy. There were also little hints, such as the sudden appearance of a stack of “important papers” on the kitchen counter by a man who believed in putting everything where it belonged – no stacks of papers anywhere.

But I never clued in…

Then, he died, and suddenly all these little things seemed liked clues that he knew what was coming. That new life insurance policy? … The new policy paperwork arrived for his final signature two days after he passed away. That stack of papers on the counter? … Every document I could possibly need after he died was in that stack… And list just seems to go on – so many things that suddenly made sense in the light of his death.

Much later, while packing away his things, I came across paperwork for some test on his heart… Tests dated five months prior to his death. Tests, that according to his doctor, he never completed… I couldn’t help but believe that he didn’t do them because he already knew what they would say… And it wasn’t good.

I won’t lie… I was angry… I was very angry. All I could think about was that I would do anything to be with Bruce… Why didn’t he? … It hurt so bad…

Now fast-forward about five years, and suddenly I am diagnosed with cancer… Suddenly, I am the one in the hot seat with choices to make. Initially, I decided I was not going to do the chemo/radiation thing. Then, after some research, I decided I was going to go full in – double mastectomy… take it all so I don’t have to ever worry about it again. Yet, after more research and more discussions with my healthcare team and my family, I decided to go less radical with a lumpectomy, then the chemo, radiation, and follow-up meds, as recommended.

The bottom-line, though, was… it was my choice. I did what I felt was right for me in that time and space. No, it was not anything I thought I would do years prior when Bruce and I had talked in our little MI kitchen. Nor was it what I thought I would do when first diagnosed. Instead, it was an evolution of thought that occurred over time and in the context of my life.

But it was my decision… my choice… And ever since that day, I have found myself with a very strong opinion about others (including the government) trying to make medical decisions for others. Our health is personal. Our lives are all different, with each having its own unique set of challenges and experiences.

Suddenly, I understood… Finally, I wasn’t so angry at Bruce anymore… He had made his decision. He felt that he was doing the right thing in that time and in that space… And while he chose not to share his burden with anyone, he was doing all he could to make the burden of his death a little bit easier for those of us left behind, (especially me).

As I watched the show last night and listened to each character speak about how they felt, I understood all of them… Every heartfelt statement made sense. Yet, my biggest support was for the main character, as he listened and weighed what each had to say before he explained his own thoughts and feelings on the matter.

In my heart, I was shouting, “Okay… y’all have had your say for him to consider. Now let it go… It is his choice, not yours. Like almost everything else our lives, accept that ultimately it is his choice, and learn to all be at peace with that.”

And that is where my heart is today… As I said, I lost that anger years ago when I suddenly found myself making decisions about “radical, lifesaving” healthcare. Granted, I made a different decision… that time. But who knows what my choice will be if confronted again?

Why? Because these decisions aren’t black and white… There are a lot of things to be considered. In my heart, I don’t believe that Bruce wanted to die. I do believe that he weighed the facts as he knew them and made the decision that he felt was best… I don’t like him being dead, but I respect his decision… I still grieve his death, but I am no longer angry. Instead, I am at peace knowing that he did what he felt was best… And that feels so much better in my heart.
__________________________________________________
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. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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.