All of my “growing up” years and into my early adulthood, the men around me were quite conservative when it came to color. Neutral tones, like browns, and the occasional navy blue were their “go-to”. When I met my first husband, khaki pants, a white shirt, and a navy-blue blazer seemed to be the outer edges of any experimentation into the use of color.
However, the women in my life taught me early on about the emotional expression that comes with color… I love color – and not just in my wardrobe. In fact, up until just a few years ago, I was constantly painting and repainting the walls in our homes, as well as spending summers painting murals in children’s bedrooms for some summer cash (since I was a teacher at the time).
I can’t even begin to tell you how many times through the years, I expressed that I wanted a red car. Don’t ask me why… It’s not my favorite color, and I can’t give a succinct answer. All I can say is that red cars made me smile… such a bold color… such a happy color.
However, my whole life I was told, “You don’t want a red car,” followed by whatever reason they didn’t want a red car. So, even our cars were purchased in those same colors – white, beige, or (if someone was feeling bold) light blue. (Just to make a point, I did finally get my red car a few years ago – Go me!)
So… when I met Bruce, I expected him to be the same. I remember, after the cruise and before I ever went up to Michigan, Bruce would talk about how he wanted to paint his barstools and the walls in his condo bright colors to combat the gray Michigan winters. I remember smiling and thinking, “Sure, you do,” without putting a lot of stock in what he was saying at all.
Then, a couple of months later, I flew to Michigan for a long weekend. (We both wanted to see if this relationship was going to actually become something more.) Bruce met me at the airport wearing jeans, a white T-shirt, and a navy-blue jacket. (No surprise there.)
Now imagine my surprise when we walked up to his Ford Ranger truck… and it was red!! I remember him saying something about how he had washed and cleaned it that day (at the advice of his daughter), but with all the snow, salt, and muck on the roads, it didn’t look like it. I didn’t care… Already this man was appearing to be something different than I had ever experienced before.
And that never stopped… Through time, I learned that he loved color just like I did. He had colored sheets, colored undies, colorful clothing (including tie-dyed tees), and… true to his word, we painted those condo walls (although I preferred the barstools left as raw wood, so he conceded on those).
Now, let’s bring ourselves up to the current time…
After Bruce died, I pulled inward… a lot. Social events were a struggle – I didn’t know how to function as a (now) single person who still felt married. It took years (about 10 to be exact) before I finally started getting out in my community and looking for my “tribe”. However, once I did, it didn’t take too long to find the space where I belong… and the friendships and healing I have found here have been wonderful.
That brings me to last night…
I was on my way to Winter Springs to play Mah Jong with some friends. We are all learning and get together 1 – 2 times a month to play and enjoy some dinner and fun conversations. As I was leaving my little town, I found myself thinking of Bruce and what Friday nights had entailed when he was alive. The thoughts weren’t sad – just nostalgic… sweet, precious memories floating in and out of my consciousness.
As I pulled up to a stoplight, I found myself behind (you guessed it) a red Ford Ranger… with Michigan plates!! Yes, I know it was just a stranger in a truck… However, at the same time, it felt like a sign from Bruce that I am not alone… He is still nearby… He is watching over me and loving me even if I can’t see or hear him.
I can’t even begin to tell you the absolute joy I felt in those few moments as I sat there staring at the back of that truck. (I may have even taken a picture of it just so I can remember that moment.)
As we pulled away from the light, and I started the hour drive to my night of fun, it dawned me… Maybe there was something more to be taken from that moment… Maybe Bruce (who was always about the simple things) was trying to remind me of the importance of finding joy in each moment – even the simple moments like sitting at a stoplight… That life will do what life does.
There will be moments of happiness and grief, laughter and tears… But joy is something deep inside… And when life feels overwhelming (which if you watch the news, it can certainly feel that way), it is important – NO… it is absolutely necessary to look around and notice those things that can spark some joy in your heart… and then hang onto that spark… at least until you notice the next one.
Thank you, Babe, for the reminder…
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Grief is a daily challenge that 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… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*
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