March 2025 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Life is Messy

When my kids were growing up and said, “That’s not fair”, I used to answer, “Life’s not fair. I’m sorry, but it’s not.” … And it isn’t. It doesn’t matter if you play by the rules or not. It doesn’t matter if you do all the right things or not. It doesn’t matter if how you play the game, there will be times when life feels unfair. I hate that. I wish I could make it otherwise, but it is what it is.

Losing someone you love is just another reminder of that. It doesn’t matter if you are a “good” person or not. It doesn’t matter if you love with all your heart or not. It just doesn’t matter. Life goes on and does what it does.

As I have said before, I am most definitely a “list person”. I love my lists. I have lists of what I need to do each day, projects I want (or need) to tackle, bills I need to pay, people I need to contact, my weekly grocery list, books I want to read, possible topics for this blog, a basic packing list, and on and on. My list of lists is ever growing, and it’s crazy… I know. At the same time, it is what keeps me organized, so I am less likely to forget or miss something. It is as much a part of me as my brown eyes or curly hair.

When Bruce died, I wanted a list… A list of things to do that would make all this hurt stop… A list of things I could do make this whole thing go away so I could go on living my life without all this pain and grief. I didn’t take long to realize that no such list exists. Sometimes, life hurts. Sometimes, life isn’t fair. In fact, I could go a step further and say I learned that life is not a list… No matter how much I want it to be that simple, it isn’t. Life is not a list. Life is messy and complicated and unpredictable.

Lately, life has felt a little harder… a little messier… a lot less predictable… And that is hard for me. Learning to sit and wait patiently for what life is offering has never been something I excel at. I want to know all the things… Where life is headed… Where I am going next… Where is the next turn in the road…

Losing Bruce was a turn in the road that I never saw coming. It took years to accept it. In fact, I can honestly say that it is something I am still working on coming to terms with. I want to do whatever is mine to do next… but what is that? What I wouldn’t give for a list… a list of whatever is mine to do as I look ahead.

The whole thing leaves me feeling lost.

This week I heard a term – progressive unfoldment… The idea of waiting to see what life will unfold in front of me next – like a flower bud waiting to open. Things will happen in their own time, and nothing I do, (no list I work through), will make one bit of difference. Life will happen on its own terms and in its own time.

Growing up in the Christian faith, I was told that God would light the path in front of me just enough for the next step. As a kid growing up in the middle of nowhere and used to spending hours walking through the woods on my own, I pictured a small lantern lighting my way in a forest. I could almost feel the warmth of the lantern and the heaviness of the darkness outside the small puddle of light. I understood that feeling of peering into that darkness – unable to see anything in the pitch darkness. Yet, I took comfort in that little bit of light that I could imagine God holding out for me.

As an adult, that image holds way more questions than comfort. That light feels a lot smaller, and the path is a lot scarier. Somedays, that lantern doesn’t seem to be giving off any light all. Some days, I have to talk myself into taking that next step into the darkness… A darkness that holds who knows what.

This is why I like a list… A list takes all the questions away… Here is what I should do, and I do it. Here is how life should flow, and it does… only it doesn’t, does it?

Instead, I can almost hear the universe saying to me, “Life is unfair… but it is also a beautiful, amazing adventure. You will miss out on so much of that if you only want the “safe” route. There is so much more out there waiting for you, if you will only take that next step.”

So… here I sit… scared but willing… trying to let go of my need for a “safe” list of things to make life run smoother – with less pain and grief… Willing to embrace the idea that the Divine has my best in mind, if I will only release my fears and patiently wait for life to simply show me what is next.

That isn’t an easy concept for me. Yet, I think that if I want to live my life to its fullest, I need to embrace the idea of a progressive unfoldment… The idea that life is going to happen with or without me… I can’t control any of it. There is no list that will give me that control. And it isn’t about life being fair or unfair – not at all.

Instead, it is a knowing that I need to let go and trust. It is a knowing that my next step in life is not dependent on a list of things to do, but rather it is about paying attention and trusting that what is next to do may not always be up to me at all. Instead, it is dependent on what life offers me – nothing more… nothing less… Because in the end, life is not a list – life is messy… and beautiful.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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 – Transformation

According to the dictionary, transformation is the operation of changing from one form or expression into another.

If you think about it, we are all transformed beings… Not one of us is the same exact person we were 10 years ago, one year ago, or even one month ago. In a simple, physical sense, our cells are constantly in the process of regenerating themselves. Not a single cell from the day you were born is still in your body… At some point, they are all replaced – over and over. So, in that sense, we have been transformed.

There is also the fact that by simply living life – talking, listening, and interacting with the world brings on new experiences, ideas, and knowledge. Whether we agree with those things or not doesn’t matter. We can’t unhear or un-experience something. Instead, we might ponder it or argue about it or use it to support what we already thought, but either way, it becomes a permanent part of our inner self… which means something has changed.

Those are the “normal” ways that life helps us to grow and transform, but it isn’t the only way… Sometimes, things happen in life that create an immediate and massive transformation – one that creates a totally new creature with barely any resemblance to the previous one that inhabited our body.

It is like the butterfly in a cocoon. As a caterpillar, it was fine – munching on leaves and living its life. Then, on cue, it goes into a cocoon. It looks like a peaceful space on the outside, but on the inside, oh my, there is some messy chaos happening in there! That little caterpillar is practically liquified and then rebuilt into something completely different… Something the world looks at in awe and wonder… Something we believe is a work of beauty. For me, knowing the full story of how it got there makes that butterfly even more miraculous.

All of this got me thinking this week about how traumatic that must be for the caterpillar/butterfly to experience… how scary. Of course, then, that led me to realize just how similar it is to grief.

Like the caterpillar, we are just going along, living our lives – content and unaware of what lies ahead. Suddenly, though that life was gone… And I don’t know about you, but I completely fell apart. I became like that gooey mess in the cocoon… On the outside, people may have thought I was doing fine (all things considered), but on the inside I was a hot mess.

For years, I was stuck in that muck, trying to go back to what I was… Who I was. However, That wasn’t possible. As crazy as it sounds, it has taken me a long time to realize I can never go back to that woman I was before Bruce died. For year though, that is exactly what I wanted… I simply wanted to go back to that person I had been. My world, though, was so different – I was so different. I wanted (so badly) to live that life that had been – not this new one that I knew nothing about… Not this new one that didn’t include Bruce… Not this new one that forced me into growth and changes I hadn’t asked for and definitely didn’t want any part of.

But that’s where I was… Where I am. Like the caterpillar, there is no going back. I can’t unlive the trauma of that night or the days and years after. Those experiences forced me into a state of chaos that I didn’t think I would survive… But I have… And like you, I know that loss can be one of the most traumatic events a person can experience… And the fact that it is traumatic is exactly why the change is so absolutely complete and life altering.

So, now what?

Well, that depends. I know that I have a choice to make. I can either keep fighting what I cannot change, accept what is but refuse to see anything positive in my new circumstances, or I can be understandably sad about what I lost while still celebrating who I have become through this process.

I am not the same person… I am stronger. I am wiser. I have learned that I will make mistakes, but getting back up and trying again is where my strength lies. I don’t have all the answers – I’m still learning. I know I will have hard days, yet I also know that I will have days where I can bring joy into the world… I can do all these things and be all these things – one does not contradict the other… And just like the butterfly, I can pause and take a breath as I emerge from the chaos, as long as I continue to spread my wings and fly.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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

Peace, Love, and Grief – Some Lessons Are Still a Struggle

Usually, (when nothing too crazy is happening), I pick a topic early in the week and work through it in my mind before I ever start writing – not always, but usually. Even this week, I thought I knew early in the week what I wanted to dive into today. However, I quickly found that I needed to work through something completely different – something I did not see coming.

As I mentioned the other day, I have found myself (emotionally) back at square one lately on this grief journey. While I know what triggered all of this, I have been trying to figure out what the lesson might be… What did I miss the first time that I need to figure out this time? And, of course, the Universe seems to be more than willing to help me find that answer… or at least another piece of it…

Each quarter at work, we are assigned several mandatory OSHA training courses to complete. No problem. While everyone says they are the same, or almost the same, each year, I am just coming up on my one-year anniversary, so they are all new to me.

I finished the first one on Monday morning in about 30 minutes. First thing on Wednesday morning, I opened the second one while I was simultaneously setting up my word document for taking notes. I hadn’t paid any attention to the topic title until I went to add it to my document… CPR…

“Oh, please, no,” I thought. “I can’t… Not now… Not today… Not while I am struggling with this ridiculous wave of grief and funk.”

Suddenly, my mind took me back to that night over 12 years ago…

I woke up to the sounds of Bruce having a bad dream – or so I thought. I nudged him and whispered, “Babe, you’re having a bad dream. Wake up.”

No response, but the sounds continued. I nudged him again – a little bit harder and spoke a little bit louder, “Babe. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”

Again – no response.

At that point, I was awake enough to realize that something wasn’t right. Quickly, I reached over him, turned on the lamp, and saw his face. It was grayish and he seemed to be struggling to breathe.

I hesitated for ½ a second, worried that I might be overreacting, before dialing 911, and letting the operator there guide me through the rhythm of CPR. Truthfully, I was certified and had been for years. However, in the stress and shock of the moment, I needed that calm voice to walk me through it.

EMS arrived soon after and took over. However, as I am sure you already know, they could not revive him… Bruce never woke up that night. He died… right there in my arms…

After the autopsy, the Medical Examiner told to me that I am actually “too small” to do CPR on an adult. He also went on to explain that CPR performed by a non-medical person only seems to be effective less than 50% of the time. However, it’s the other 50% that makes it worth trying.

At the time, all I could think about was that I had failed him. Bruce had never let me down, but I had failed him in the worst way… and that was something I struggled to forgive myself for for years. I was so utterly angry and disgusted with myself that I have never sought to be recertified in CPR since that day. Why bother? Why hadn’t anyone ever explained the reality of my even attempting CPR? It was all too much… No, thank you, I can’t do that again.

In fact, it was only about a year or so ago that I finally reprocessed that night in therapy using EMDR and have felt some peace about my efforts that night. I have learned to accept the reality that I did all I could – even the profession EMS responders couldn’t revive him. We all tried. We all gave it our best… Sometimes, though, despite our best efforts, things don’t work out the way we think they should.

Despite knowing all of that, when I opened that course and stared at the title, everything in me froze. I didn’t want to take the course… but I had no choice. Should I close it and put it off for another day? No… I would just be dreading it until it was behind me. So, I pressed on, and clicked “Start Course”.

Maybe the Divine (or the Universe or whatever word you prefer) heard my despair in that moment… I don’t know… However, this course, like all the others, started with a pre-test. If one can pass the pre-test with 80% or better, the course is considered “complete”, and no other work is needed. (Let me interject here that I have never passed one of these pretests.)

So… I opened the pretest… Five questions… I could miss one… “Please, God… Please… I don’t think I can take this course and be fit for anything else today. Please, give me wisdom… The last time I was certified was over 12 years ago. Please, let me remember.”

Question one… I got it right. (Thank you, God.)

Question two… I got it right. (Oh my gosh… please, don’t quit on me.)

Question three… I got it… WRONG. (No… Please, no… Please, give me courage… I can’t miss another one.)

Question four… I changed my answer twice – something I always tell my learners not to do. As I hit Submit, I could hear my own voice telling them, “Go with your gut… you know more than you think you know.” … I got it right. (Phew!!! One more… just one more.)

I took another deep breath. “Think, Linda, calm down and think.”

Question five… I sat there for probably 20 minutes before I could convince myself to hit Submit… Oh my gosh!! I got it right… I got it right! I couldn’t believe it. Tears of relief streamed down my face. I did it, and it was over. I would not have to battle my way through the whole course.

I was still quite shaken up, so I put myself in “do not disturb” mode and just let all the tears and emotions flow as I tried to move on with work. I don’t know why this got to me the way it did. I don’t know why my reaction was filled with so much panic. After all, I have worked through this. I should have been okay. It should have been no big deal – just another course to get through… But it wasn’t just another course, and it was a big deal.

Even now, I can’t articulate the effect this had on the rest of my week. Every time I think about it, that panicky feeling builds up and the tears start falling. I think it is crazy that I thought I was doing okay with this… And maybe I am… when I have the time to prep myself for encounters such as this.

Yet, when it is unexpected… when I don’t have the time to prepare emotionally for things like this, I need to be just as aware that I may still respond in a way that is reminiscent of those early days and years. Maybe I need to know that some things will always be a trigger, and that’s just how it is. Maybe it sets me back for a day or two… And maybe it gives me another chance to work through some residual feelings surrounding that night.

What I do know is this… Even the smallest steps are better than no steps, so I am still making progress… And maybe my lesson this time around is that, maybe… just maybe… I need to learn how to live with this memory without letting it dictate my life… To remember that I tried my best; there were other factors that made CPR impossible – and I had no control over any of those… and, finally…

“In every ending, there’s a new beginning hidden behind all of the sadness and regret. It’s your job to uncover it.” ~ r.h. Sin, The Year of Letting Go, March 24
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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

Peace, Love, and Grief – Trying to Let Go… or Not

As I have mentioned the past few weeks, I have been struggling to deal with the current course of events happening all around me… and trying to navigate all of this alone. That hasn’t changed, but it also isn’t my topic today. Instead, I have been trying to analyze why all of this has suddenly thrown me back emotionally to the first months of this journey… Why I am missing Bruce as if he just died yesterday… Why am I crying more than normal? Why am I back to not sleeping more than a few hours at a time?

The past couple of years, I felt like I had finally gotten to a much healthier space, but here I am now… Like the children’s game, Chutes and Ladders, I just took that long slide back down the board to the beginning. Most days, it feels like I am right back there at the start, trying to catch my breath, and figure out how I got here.

I am sure it has a lot to do with the current upheaval and unknown future that has left me feeling insecure, which was exactly how I felt when Bruce first died… Completely lost… Completely insecure… No idea how to manage this tightrope called life all by myself.

Over the years, I have learned to do a multitude of things I never thought possible on my own. I have learned to navigate in the world as a single, older woman – covering my bills, keeping up with car and home repairs (even doing some myself), and planning/saving for retirement, to name a few. I have also learned a lot about myself… especially the fact that I am way more capable than I would have ever given myself credit for… I would even dare to say that I am stronger and tougher than I was raised to be.

Yet, currently, I feel like I have had the breath knocked out of me. I want to get up, smile, and move on. I want to be (emotionally) where I was six months ago… But I’m just not… Evidently, right now, I need to feel what I feel and let it out – even if that is in the form of fresh grief and tears.

This week, I came across this quote in my morning reading:
“Crying is not a weakness; it is a route taken by the things that no longer need to be carried around in the heart. Crying is how we release what no longer deserves to take up residence in the heart.” ~ r.h. Sin, The Year of Letting Go, March 9

At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I love the first part, “Crying is not a weakness.” However, when I got to the part that says, “… what no longer deserves to take up residence in the heart,” I had to stop… It was that word “deserves” that made me take pause.

Bruce will always deserve a place in my heart! How could I ever think otherwise??

Then, I started to realize that Bruce isn’t the part that makes me cry. Bruce makes me smile… Remembering Bruce (and our relationship) makes me happy.

No, the thing that doesn’t “deserve to take up residence in heart” is the sadness… the fear… the loneliness… Those are the things that drag me down and leave me feeling “less than” and unworthy of anything good.

So… I am working on letting those things go. I’m back to daily journaling – both a gratitude list and a “check-in”, with my own download of emotions and thoughts… There is something about reminding myself of the good around me and a bit of self-expression in a safe place that has always been cathartic to my soul.

I can’t say I am completely back on track… I’m not. Then again, it has only been a day or two, and I know this is going to take… well, as long as it takes… And that’s okay. I have nothing but time anyway.

Here’s the thing… My guiding phrase for this year is “I stand in my truth.” That becomes the standard I am using to measure my thoughts, words, and actions as I go about doing life. So… as long as that is still my guide as I work through this current wave of grief, – a guide for gratitude… a guide for self-expression… a guide for emotional regulation… a guide for all the things I am feeling, then, I should end up just fine.

Who knows, maybe the first time I was on this part of the path, I missed something. They say we all have lessons to learn in this life and if we somehow miss the lesson… well, life will just keep trying to teach us.
So… this time I am trying to pay attention… trying to dig a little deeper, look a little closer, and heal a little bit more… And I will just have to wait and see where that gets me.

“Missing that person doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re strong enough to remain honest in your emotional truth.” ~ r.h. Sin, The Year of Letting Go, March 12
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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

Peace, Love, and Grief – Sit with Me, Please

If you have been keeping up, then you know that I have been struggling with the current course of events in the news. For me, I don’t care where you fall. (I know and love people on both sides of the fence.) What I am struggling with is all the hatred and venom being spewed out at each other… People who have known each other all their lives are attacking each other in such a hate-filled way, and I can’t wrap my brain around it.

What happened to respectful discussions and debate? What happened to simply not discussing topics that will create conflict? What happened to relationships being more important than being “right”? My heart is struggling in ways I never imagined possible.

When I met with my therapist earlier this week and expressed my anxiety… when I cried my eyes out trying to make sense of all this malevolence we have allowed into our relationships, she told me that I would never understand all this hate, because I don’t have that level of hate in me. She said that even people who have created trauma in my life, people I should release and let go, I don’t… I continue to find something in them to love.

I’m not saying that to brag. I’m not really sure it is a good thing. Obviously, it is healthy to release toxic relationships and move on, but I struggle with that… So… I struggle with others’ ability to hate someone they once held in friendship and love. My brain cannot fathom such a thing.

So, currently, I find myself grieving… Grieving for lost friends and lost relationships… Grieving for people being manipulated by outsiders and strangers to the point of “them vs us” tribalism, instead of “them and us” unity. I am grieving for the abandonment of love and compassion in favor of the acceptance of hate and irritability.

How did we get here? … How do we find our way back? … And why, oh why, did Bruce leave me here to figure this out by myself?

Then today, as I read ahead in my Lent devotional, it said, “… human feelings are acceptable… We don’t have to be positive all the time, nor do we have to handle problems alone. We can lean on other people, if only by asking them to be present with us, <as Jesus did in the Garden of Gethsemane>.” *

I guess that is what I am asking today… I really need to feel like I am not alone. Whether we are on different sides of the political fence makes no difference. Can’t we dig deep and remember what it is that we love about each other? Can’t we choose to lean on each other in times of anxiety and pain? Can’t we simply choose to sit with each other and offer some kind of compassion… love… strength – politics be damned?

I am struggling right now, and I don’t want to be alone. Conversely, I would be honored to offer you that same support. I care… I care about you… about me… about us. We may be trying to navigate this chaotic time without our loved ones, but that doesn’t mean we have to do it alone. Please, let’s hold space for and with each other… Let’s put our differences aside and offer each other a safe space to grieve… a safe space to feel what we feel… a safe space to simply be… and breathe for a while.

* Rev. Ellen Debenport, In the Garden: Lent 2025, March 9
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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