Month: May 2026

Peace, Love, and Grief – Dealing with the Hand We’re Dealt

“What do you think I’m trying to do? Not my fault I was dealt a shitty hand.”
“No, the deal is never anyone’s fault. But you control the way you play.”
~ Shelby Van Pelt, Remarkably Bright Creatures

A little nugget of wisdom came from my mother when I was going through my divorce many years ago. While I know she isn’t the one to come up with the idea, she is the one who passed it on to me, so she gets credit in my book.

Things were rough. That divorce took over three years because of the games my ex played with the system. It seemed like I would get through one huddle, only to find that he had created another… It felt unending.

So, one evening as my mom and I were talking, I mentioned that I was so tired. I wanted to do things right. I just wanted to be apart from him and have a little bit of peace in my life, but he was making it so difficult… And she advised, “You can’t control what other people do… only how you respond.”

Those words have stuck to with me through so many hard times… While I can’t say I am always successful (because I am only human), it does help me with perspective, and sometimes that is what I need in the moment.

However, my mom isn’t the only one to give me advice that I still use today…

As I mentioned last week, I grew up sailing small boats… very small boats, such as Sunfish and Lasers. I loved it. I loved the quiet on the water. I loved riding on the wind. I even loved just sitting there when the wind died down, and I could either relax and wait for the breeze to pick up again or paddle my way back to shore – my choice.

However, before I was ever allowed to take the boat out by myself, my father said I had to prove my skills. To do that, I had to sail the boat way out into the middle of the lake, turtle the boat (flip it over completely), swim to shore and back to the boat (without a life jacket), right the boat by myself, and sail back to the dock. I was about 12 or 13 before I could finally pass that test, but I was determined. I knew what I wanted and I made up my mind that I could do it… so I did.

Before I started, I remember my father saying, “You have a plan. Stay focused on the next step in front of you – don’t focus on where you have been or what is still ahead… Just take it one step at a time.”

It’s funny, but I think that one exercise has carried me through so many other challenges in life. I can’t tell you how many times I have looked back on that experience and think, “I did that… I can do this… Just focus on one step at a time.”

So why am I telling you this? Because a couple of weeks ago, I was watching the Netflix movie, Remarkably Bright Creatures, and there were so many emotions that I could relate to… especially the intense grief expressed by Sally Field’s character.

Almost immediately, I found myself thinking back to those first few days/weeks/months after Bruce died. Back then, I couldn’t even begin to imagine spending the next year alone… much less the rest of my life. Our family tends to live long healthy lives, so odds were that I was only about halfway through my life… The idea that I had at least that same amount of time to get through without Bruce felt impossible.

I couldn’t shake those feelings. There were days when I truly dreaded opening my eyes in the morning because it just felt like one more blip in what felt like forever.

“You can’t fix someone who is determined to stay broken.”
― Shelby Van Pelt, Remarkably Bright Creatures

But… time has passed, and life has continued to do what life does. There have been challenges and moments of despair, as well as good times and moments of celebration. So, while watching that movie, a few weeks ago, I found myself looking back at where I started on this journey compared to where I am now.

With that reflection, I realized something… I have come a long way from where I started. At first, I constantly either focused on where I had been (with Bruce in my life) or where I was headed (a lifetime without him). For the record, I think that is probably normal.

In fact, I still have days where some of that is constantly on my mind. However, over time I have reminded myself that I have done hard things before and not only survived but actually succeeded. I also constantly remind myself when those waves of grief hit that I am absolutely allowed to feel what I feel, but I also get to choose how I will respond and express those feelings.

Part of that is realizing that it is okay to remember and to feel what I feel. It is learning to understand that sometimes we need to see where we started so that we can understand how far we have come. At the same time, I also need to remember not to get stuck focusing on all of that…

Instead, my response needs to be one of processing the grief, and then coming back to the step I am on…

“Tova knew there was a bottom to those depths of despair. Once your soul was soaked through with grief, any more simply ran off, overflowed, the way maple syrup on Saturday morning pancakes always cascaded onto the table whenever Erik was allowed to pour it on himself.”
~ Shelby Van Pelt, Remarkably Bright Creatures

____________________________________________________
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.*

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 – Memorial Days

Memorial Day… In Michigan, this weekend was always the true beginning of summer. It was as if someone flipped a switch. Overnight, we seemed to go from cold and dreary to warm and sunny. It was also the weekend when Bruce and I took the sailboat out of storage from the winter.

We would spend the weekend getting her cleaned up, sails set, motor and rudder set, lines tested, and all the other tasks involved to get her ready for the summer… And some years, if we were lucky, we would have time for at least one sail out on Lake Michigan before settling her into her slip at the marina for the summer.

It probably sounds crazy to say it was fun, but it was. Sure, it was a weekend of hard work, but it was also a weekend of fun anticipation for the summer ahead. We both loved being on the water and sailing. I grew up sailing (albeit much smaller boats), and Bruce had taken up sailing after his divorce from his first wife. It was something we both loved sharing with each other.

I remember our first Memorial Day together… We were still just dating at the time. However, we had met five months earlier on an old sailing schooner, so the language and passion were something we had shared from the very beginning.

That first year, Bruce asked me to come to Michigan for the holiday weekend. He was excited to have someone, who shared his passion for the wind and water, to not only share in the annual ritual of preparing the boat for the season, but also to help him christen the boat with her permanent name, Island Buoy.

We had only been together a few months, so I wasn’t surprised that he started the day questioning how much experience I really had vs how much I said I had. He wasn’t rude or mean, just looking for confirmation. It didn’t take long, though, for him to realize that other than a few questions related more to the size of the boat, than anything else, we were both on similar ground in regard to knowledge and ability.

It was a great weekend. We managed to get her ready for the summer ahead and get her name on the hull, before christening her with a bottle of champagne and moving her into her summer slip. That year, we didn’t manage to get a sail in, but we were able to grill some burgers on her deck at the marina before the sun set.

It was a beautiful day… Nothing over-the-top, and yet, that is exactly what makes this memory so precious to me – the simplicity of that weekend… and the fact that it was followed by many more similar weekends throughout the years… So many other Memorial Day weekends spent in just the same way.

For me, it is these normal, simple days and activities that I miss most… The security of knowing that this “ritual” was how we started each and every summer. This day of hard work mixed with excitement and laughter… A day that was repeated each year… A day of simple, ordinary things and simple, ordinary conversations… A day that I would give my soul to experience again…

Those ordinary days… Those ordinary conversations… Those are the things I seem to miss the most.

Sail on, Babe! I love you!!

____________________________________________________
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.*

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 – Just Hold Me

I am alone…
All alone.
No longer is there someone to listen at the end of a bad day.
No longer are there arms to hug me or lips to kiss away the hurt.
No longer is there someone to say, “I love you… that’s all we need.”
All that greets me is silence, emptiness, and my own thoughts…
~ Linda, Sept 2013

Most of us learn pretty quickly on this path that when someone we love dies, (particularly a partner), you don’t just lose the person or relationship. No… You lose all kinds of things – all the different roles that person filled in your life. I remember going to a grief support group and one of the first things they had us do was to list all the things that other person did. For example, Bruce had always handled the taxes. That first year I almost missed filing mine because Bruce had always done it. He was our tax-guy. (I am not a tax person at all. So now, every year, I hire someone to fill that role and prepare my taxes.)

I know it sounds weird and maybe even a little heartless or un-emotional, but it is reality. When Bruce died, all those roles and tasks that he had handled were now mine… and I struggled to remember all those things that were not in the forefront of my mind, especially through the fog of grief.

I ended up with sticky notes all over the house to remind me to do those things, such as locking the door and unplugging appliances before going to bed… or cleaning the cats’ litter boxes… or taking the garbage can to the street on trash day. All small things… all important things… and all things I was NOT used to thinking about.

But those are not the only things we lost when Bruce died. I know each family member and friend had their own relationship with Bruce, which means we all lost and grieve different things. The past few weeks I have been craving an aspect of our relationship that I haven’t really thought about in a while…

As you have read many times, I often refer to Bruce as my “gentle giant”. He was a body-builder so he was quite muscle-bound – my giant. He was also the kindest, most gentle person I have ever met. He was always aware of our size difference. (I’m kind of little and was even smaller back then.)

So, I went from a man who was completely not self-aware and thought it was funny to physically hurt others, to a man who was very self-aware of his physique and went out of his way not to hurt anyone, (unless it was about protecting those he loved). Hence… my gentle giant.

What I have been missing is how he used to hold me in his arms… Whenever times were rough – whether a bad day at work, a hard conversation with one of the kids, or a threat from my ex – he would see my face (and the tears in my eyes), and hold out his arms. I would enter that safe space and simply say, “Just hold me… please,” … And he would. For as long as I needed, without words and without rushing me through my own processing in that moment, he held me…

God, how I miss that.

I don’t know why I have been craving that the past couple of weeks, but I have. Nothing is going wrong. Life is good. I am happy. I am also tired… and anxious about how “we the people” are currently treating each other with such disrespect and hate. I guess, now that I wrote that out, I realize that is why I am craving that safe space in his arms.

I find myself (several times a day) whispering, “I miss you, Babe… Just hold me… Please, hold me.” Of course, there is never a response and life moves on… Somedays I have cried at that point, and other days I have done some journaling or gone for a walk… None of it takes the place of what I crave, but it does allow me to process whatever is happening within my heart at that time.

I also know this… When my time comes, and Bruce and I are together again, I think the first thing I am going to say is, “Just hold me… please, just hold me.”

Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
Other times I smile and laugh at the thought of our memories.
You were always that way…
Making me smile or laugh when I wanted to cry…
When the pain was so bad.
Now my heart hurts…
Truly, physically hurts with the missing of you.
I feel your soul.
I know you are here,
But I need to SEE your eyes and your smile;
Feel the comfort of your arms.
I want to breathe in your presence,
And feel your love in all these things.
But that isn’t to be…
All I have are the memories;
The memories of our love…
And …
Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
~ Linda, Oct 2013

Note: You may have noticed, I didn’t post a blog last week. I took the time to spend Mother’s Day weekend with family. I considered stepping away and writing. However, I ultimately decided that my time here with them is precious, and I just wanted to enjoy and treasure the opportunity for us to create some precious memories.
____________________________________________________
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.*

Peace, Love, and Grief – It’s Not Just About Me

“If you can’t see the Divine in everyone, you can’t see the Divine in anyone.” ~ Rev. Richard Rohr

Last weekend, while driving home from a retreat, I was chatting with my fellow passengers, and while I can’t for the life of me remember how the topic came up, I found myself admitting that sometimes I am still angry at Bruce for dying. Not for the same reasons I was angry when he first died, though. No… Just as I have said here before, sometimes I am angry that he left me here alone to figure out how to navigate all of this crap (for lack of a better word) that seems to be taking place in our world day by day and minute by minute.

There are so many days when it all just feels too overwhelming for words. Not checking the news while we were in Key West was fantastic! For a whole week, I felt like I could breathe…really breathe… for the first time in a long time.

From KW, I went straight to the retreat. So I guess it just hit me on the car ride home, that I would need to go back to reality… go back to monitoring how much crap I let into my psyche and how much I leave alone… Trying to figure out how much is enough to understand what is happening without feeling overwhelmed and going down a rabbit hole.

… And I may have felt a little bit angry (again) that Bruce isn’t here for a hug or a kind word or reassurance when it all feels like too much. Humans are social creatures, after all. So managing all of this stuff alone… is hard sometimes.

By Sunday night as I crawled into bed, the tears were flowing. I was tired of all of the anger and hate that seems so prevalent these days. (It just hurts my heart!) By Monday, when I wrote in my journal, I was downright depressed, and I wasn’t sure how to pull myself out of it.

Then, as if on cue… (or maybe even from Bruce in some odd way) … Things started popping up in my readings all week…

First, I finished reading, Grounded, by Diane Butler Bass. It has been an interesting spiritual book. (No, I am not trying to sell it or get you to read it. I am simply giving her credit.) The book is about seeing the Divine differently. Rather than “elevator/vertical” faith that sees God as “up there” somewhere, it is about shifting to a more intimate faith… a faith that sees the Divine in all things – the dirt, the water, the sky… and our communities, both local and global.

In other words, seeing the Divine in others. Not just the ones who look like me or think like me… Not just the ones who are easy to love and get along with… But seeing the Divine in all others.

A couple of days later, I came across this quote in my devotions: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” ~ Frederick Buecher

That felt like more of that same Divine calling… To not be so caught up in me, and my needs. A reminder that all of Mother Earth and her creatures are also witnessing and/or experiencing the same things I am. We may all have different perspectives, but ultimately, we are all in this… And wouldn’t it be so much better to pool our strengths in order to diminish our struggles? To remember that “No man is an island…”, and work together?

And finally, this morning… As I opened one of my daily readers, Earth Medicine by Jamie Sams, I found my path, (or what I am meant to do), concerning what is happening… She wrote, “Any dream that does not include everyone is a vision created from limited perception, or in some cases, greed.” Then, in the final paragraph she asked, “When is the last time you remembered to include the needs of every single human in your prayers or in your vision of what the future should become?”

Wow! That was eye-opening for me…

It isn’t only about seeing the Divine in all things and all people… It is about including all of it in my dreams and my prayers… It is about remembering that although Bruce is not here, I am not alone in this… None of us are.
____________________________________________________
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.*

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.