Peace, Love and Grief… Looking for Hope

I am a reader. I have always been a reader. I will read anything… I simply love to read and always have. I have several family and friends who are also readers, and we are constantly exchanging books and making recommendations. That being said, I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have read a story about someone choosing to recover from an illness or surgery “by the sea.” In the books, it always sounds so absolutely peaceful – the perfect spot to sit, think and heal… both physically and emotionally.

Maybe that is part of the reason I chose to spend this past week here by the sea, recovering from surgery… The ocean just steps from my door. Starting in my teen years, the ocean has been a place of magical healing for me… I can just sit and stare at it for hours, and all the pain or frustration just seems to melt away. However, until this week, I haven’t “sat by the ocean” for a week just to recover… And, I have to admit, this week has been just as wonderful as the books make it sound.

Even before I felt well enough to venture outside, the view from the couch was amazing! To watch the sunrise over the waves each morning or to watch an afternoon storm roll in always leaves me feeling nothing short of complete awe. As the week progressed, I slowly worked my way to “porch sitting,” and finally, in the last few days I have actually made my way out to the beach.

But that hasn’t been all of it… Being by the ocean, always reminds me of Bruce, as well. After all, we met on a sailing schooner down in the islands. When we were first married and living in Michigan, we spent as much time sailing Lake Michigan as the weather would allow. Then, here in Florida, we were always either out on the boat, on the kayaks or just sitting at the beach enjoying the waves. In other words, from day one, the beach was always “our” place…

We met there. Bruce proposed there. It is there that his ashes were released, and it is where I always go to feel closer to him… and this week has been no different.

Of course, I also have spent a lot of time this week reading. One of the books I read was just a great “beach reading” book… not complicated and definitely a “happily ever after” type book… And, like all good books, there were also a few sub-plots throughout the book. In this particular book, one of the sub-plots was about an older woman who still wrote daily letters to the “love of her life” who had died several years before.

It caught my attention right away, since my journal entries are the same… Just letters to Bruce about what is going on in my life, day by day. They always start with “Dear Babe” and end with “All my love – forever and always.”

In the book, the character talks about how she knows he is dead, but she can’t quite let go. As she puts it, “Your mind resists death with all its might.” ~ Liane Moriaty, What Alice Forgot.

Boy, is that the truth! It is like a part of you always feels as if they will walk back through the door again at any minute… Like they have just been away on a trip and will return any day… It’s so stupid, because you know they won’t… There is just this part of you that seems to be stuck somewhere between “what was”… and “what is”…

This evening, though, as a storm worked its way off-shore, I was enjoying some porch sittin’ as I finished this book. Every now and then, I would put the book down to watch the rain moving away.

Each time, I found myself thinking about Bruce… Sometimes I am worried I will forget what he looked like or how he sounded, but not today. Today was like reliving each moment as it entered my mind… And as I sat there remembering, I smiled, I laughed, I cried… and I wondered, “Will I ever get used to this?” And just as I asked myself that question, I looked out across the waves and saw a beautiful spectrum of color going from the storm cloud down in a perfect arch to meet the ocean… a rainbow! A promise of hope…

I didn’t even know hope was the thing I was looking for… or needed… But it is exactly what brought peace to my heart today.

Everyone travels this path in their own way and in their own time… Grief is hard and the fact we seem to be expected to carry on with our life as if nothing had happened can make it seem even harder. These are only my thoughts and observations about my own path. Maybe you too have had challenges that have brought your grief a little closer to the surface or made it seem a little bit harder than normal.

Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when we feel completely vulnerable. If any of this feels familiar, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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Linda

Hi! I am Linda. On January 12, 2013, my husband, Bruce passed away in the wee hours of the morning. It was completely unexpected and threw me into a complete tailspin. I wandered aimlessly for months until I met a fabulous Life Coach who turned my life around. On January 1, 2015, while visiting with long-ago friend, I decided that this year would be different. 2015 became my year of "Celebration, Creation and Contribution." On January 12, 2015 (exactly 2 years after losing my husband), I posted my first blog on this site. My purpose is to create a virtual loss/grief support group. If this site fills a need for you or someone you know, please join us and add your comments. Let's make this our community...

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