alone – Page 2 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… The Hardest Time of Day

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, and that’s all we need.”
All that greets me is silence,
Emptiness,
And my own thoughts.
~ Linda, September 2013

Here is the question, “What is the hardest time of day for you?” I was doing some reading about grief this week, when that question came up. As I sat and pondered it for a while, I realized that the answer has been an ever changing one for me.

When Bruce first died, any time I was awake was hard. Sleep was the only thing that gave me any relief from the pain of losing him. I was so numb and in shock that I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. Sometimes, I would just sit and stare at the walls for hours, while other times I would find myself wandering through our house looking for… what? I can’t tell you. He wasn’t there… I knew he wasn’t there. I was alone… I was all alone.

After a few weeks, I returned to work. I needed life to return to some kind normalcy. I also knew if I stayed home alone any longer, I might never be able to pull myself out of the dark hole I found myself in. It was at that point that the evenings became the hardest time of day for me.

Because Bruce had never been to my office. He had never been inside that space… Nor was he involved in that part of my day. So, that space felt somewhat normal. Since he had never been there, there was no expectation that I would miss him there. (I hope that makes since.)

However, the minute I turned the corner onto our street, I would see his SUV still parked in the driveway. My heart would leap a little, as I immediately thought, “Bruce is home!” Then, just as quickly, I would remember… And my heart would fall to pieces.

By the time I walked inside, the tears were streaming down my face. So many times, I would walk inside, collapse in the middle of the living room floor, and just cry… Where was he?! Why?? Why did this have to be? I couldn’t comprehend it. It was awful… And it was day after day.

Without you, this house is so quiet it is deafening.
Even the thoughts in my own head can’t drown out the quiet.
It is always here – waiting to swallow my sanity.
~ Linda, November 2013

But, as we know, life is ever changing… Like the waves on the beach, nothing stays the same. As for my life, it changed again a few years ago when my daughter and grandson moved in. No more deafening quiet… No more lonely evenings… Instead, once again, this house was full of noise and laughter and love. It was great! It changed everything about my world. It probably sounds crazy, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a purpose again. It was absolutely refreshing!

Does that mean I know longer have “hard times?” Of course not! It just isn’t the central focus of every moment. My heart is still broken, and I still miss Bruce. However, my hardest time of the day now seems to be that time when I turn out the lights at the end of the day. There is something about lying there in the dark – alone. That is the time my mind turns to him. That is the time I will quietly talk to him… Wishing he were still here to listen… and answer… Wishing he could still hold me tight as we fall asleep… In other words, I find myself wishing for those things I know will never be.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever stop grieving completely… I doubt it. When Bruce left, there was a huge hole left in my soul. I have worked hard over the years to patch it up… I have made a conscious (daily) effort at healing. Yet, deep down, I still miss him. And I believe that as long as I have moments alone, I will always have a “hardest part of my day.”

I wake up,
And I reach for you,
But you aren’t there.
I long to feel your warm body
Next to mine.
In my sleep, I try to snuggle closer,
But there is only empty space.
Each time, I am pulled out of my dreams.
Then, I am awake
With nothing but the realization
That you are gone.
How long will is this going to go on?
Will my soul
Ever be content to sleep alone?
Will my heart
Always reach out for you in the dark?
… Probably.
~ Linda, July 2018

How about you? What is your hardest time of the day? Or what are your triggers? Would you be willing to share with us, please? Would you tell us your story? This path can be a hard and lonely one, but none of us need to do it alone. We are all here for each other. We all have stories to share. Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.* Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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

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Peace, Love and Grief… Unexpected Memories

It’s hard to believe I have spent the last few days in Michigan. It felt so strange – so surreal. There are so many days when I miss Michigan. Let me clarify… There are so many days when I miss our time there… our time together. I have so many good and happy memories of us there. Sometimes I even wonder what it would be like if I could go back, or if I still lived there…

When I stepped off the plane on Thursday, I was excited at the idea of spending the next few days with Bruce’s family. I walked down the gangway and into the airport, and it hit me like a punch to the belly… All I could think about was the first time I walked down that same corridor, and there Bruce stood – leaning against a column watching the passengers disembark. The moment our eyes met, he broke into a grin from ear to ear.

On Thursday, I knew he wasn’t there waiting. (Oh, I wish he had been!) Yet, it all came back so fast and felt so real. I actually had to stop for a moment and look around to get my bearings in this reality. This town is filled with so many memories, I found myself pausing quite often while I was there to catch my breath and to remind myself what my reality IS.

There were other memories that came to mind as I found my way through the airport… There were the chairs where we would try to steal a few private moments before saying goodbye when we were dating, and the restaurant where we always had a pre-flight drink when we were flying together. I would swear I could remember every trip to the Gulf Coast to see his folks and the multiple trips to SC to see my family… And that was just the airport.

As I was driving through town, all I could think about is how beautiful Michigan is in the summer, and how I loved spending that first summer up there with Bruce. I can’t even begin to describe the pure lush, green of a Michigan Summer… It is absolutely amazing. That drive to Bruce’s family, out toward Lake Michigan, brought back the memories of all the times we drove out there to spend time on our sailboat, Island Buoy.

While I was there, Bruce’s sisters and I spent one evening out at Lake Michigan watching the sunset. At the water’s edge, we all put our toes in the water… And it was freezing!

All I could think about was the time Bruce anchored the sailboat offshore. The plan was to swim in and eat at the beach side restaurant. I put one foot in the water and immediately climbed back into the boat. There was no way I was swimming in that cold water. There was a short conversation between us, before Bruce conceded to let me ride on his shoulders (above the water). LOL!

Truthfully, I never swam in that lake… It was always too cold for me. Bruce took one picture of me with my feet in the water, but that was as far as I could manage… Just the memory of those days had me laughing happily inside as we watched the sun slide quietly from the sky.

The highlight for my trip was spending time with Bruce’s Mom and Dad. It was wonderful! Bruce has been gone for so long now, most people will tolerate a phrase or tow about him… maybe even the occasional shared memory, but too much “Bruce” seems to make the room grow silent. However, for two days, there was conversation after conversation with his parents, and each one was filled with Bruce. I loved it! (It was even better knowing they wanted and needed those conversations as much as I did.)

At one point, Dad said the kindest thing… He talked about how it felt when Mom had a couple of strokes in May and spent weeks on end at the hospital. He talked about how awful it was to come home to an empty house – without her… And how he realized in those moments how hard the last six years have been for me… without you.

He is one of the only people who has been able to experience that and to make that connection with me… All I could manage to say was, “Thank you!” Thank you for understanding… Thank you for validating how hard this has been.

He went on to say he couldn’t speak for the rest of the family, but he could definitely speak for himself, and he felt he could speak for Bruce. Then, he said he knew if something happened to Mom, he couldn’t handle that loneliness day after day… year after year… that he felt he would need someone. He wanted me to know that he (and Bruce) would be happy for me if I ever found someone who made me happy again. He kept stressing that he (and Bruce) wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life.

Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about that part. I am grateful to have his blessing (and Bruce’s), if such a thing should happen… And I know “never say never.” However, I don’t know if I am really ready for such a thing. Then again, there’s no rush… not for me anyway – I’m okay for now.

As I write this, I am on the plane heading back home… All I can think is how lonely it feels leaving Michigan alone… It’s like saying goodbye to Bruce all over again… As I sit here, I am trying to hide the tears from the boy sitting next me… I feel so sad and lost… so alone… but in my heart, I know, “All shall be well… All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” 1

What about you? How do handle those moments with the memories flood in and threaten to take over your reality? Is there a way to balance your grief with your current life? I know there isn’t a schedule, and everyone heals in their own time. However, that doesn’t make this journey any easier. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. * Who knows? Your story may the answer for someone else.

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

1 ~ Julian of Norwich

Peace, Love and Grief… Those First Few Mother’s Days

I remember years ago when my kids were little, they would ask what I wanted for Mother’s Day, and I would always give the same response… I just wanted a day of quiet – a day all to myself. Well, that first year after Bruce died, I got it. I spent the day alone and let me tell you – it wasn’t all I thought it would be. I found myself longing for those days of endless chaos. So, be careful what you ask for – you just might get it.

As much as I would love to “pretty it up” and make it more positive, it is more important to be honest about what my grief journey involved. So, I need to be honest about this day as well, and this is my story from those first few Mother’s Days… spent alone…

I love the fact that there is a day set aside to celebrate my Mom and Bruce’s Mom and all that they both did for us… without the two of them, the “we” that was Bruce and I would never have been. I, also, love that there is a day when my daughter is celebrated for being the fabulous mother that she is. My grandson is my whole heart, and as his mother, she makes that happen. My problem, however, comes when I try to apply the sentiment of the day to myself… This is where I struggle.

In the processes of leaving my first marriage, meeting, loving and losing Bruce, there are so many areas of my life in which I have grown and developed. However, Mother’s Day is a day I dread… There are emotions attached to this day that makes breathing a struggle.

To give a little bit of background, I was raised to believe that divorce is not an option… marriage is for life. So, when I left (aka – ran away from) my first husband, I struggled with guilt.

Therefore, after I left my first marriage, I needed to come to terms with what had transpired over the years, and how I had enabled the behaviors that brought to run away and eventually divorce. I also had to accept the fact that my job as their mother was to protect my kids. While I thought I was protecting them at the time, the reality was different. They endured quite a bit at the hands of their father, and I failed to protect them. Luckily, my kids turned out great (in spite of me) … but this is where my dread of Mother’s Day comes from… It comes from within myself.

For the first few years after I left my first marriage, we were still in SC, so it was easy to center the day around my mother and grandmother… I could ignore my own dread and put my energy into them.

When I met Bruce, he understood my feelings, but he had a completely different perspective. He saw me in a light without judgement. He wanted to celebrate what he called “the strength to leave” and likened it to the legend of a mother pelican.

On our first Mother’s Day together, after only 6 months of marriage, I didn’t expect anything from him – I wasn’t his mother nor the mother of his daughter. But he saw it differently. When I awoke that morning, he had a card tucked under the mattress on his side of the bed. He was absolutely beaming when he handed it to me. (I still have that card… and every other one he ever gave me.) Inside was a beautiful message of love along with 3 tickets to the opera for that afternoon.

Imagine it… Here was my body-building, truck-driving, football-loving husband willing to spend the afternoon at the opera, because he knew how much I would love it… and he included my daughter so that it was a “family affair” – exactly what the day was meant to be. I was (and still am) uncomfortable with this day, but I smile when I remember how he always insisted on celebrating me as a mother…

Flash forward to the first Mother’s Day after Bruce passed… I found myself struggling in a different light. The kids had been grown and gone for years… and without Bruce, I found myself alone.

Here are a few excerpts from my journal over the last few years. I wasn’t looking for anything really. I only wanted people to understand the following – if you know someone who is has lost someone that connects to their “mother role”, please, reach out to them… they need you.

May 12, 2013:
* It is four months today… and Mother’s Day… and I’m alone… it has been a really hard day. A few days ago, I wrote that I thought I was still here for my kids, but today I am not so sure… they are grown and gone with lives and families of their own. They love me. (I know that without a doubt.) … But I would not say they need me.

* My biggest issue is that I need to stop looking to my kids for comfort… that is not their job and it is not fair to them. Bruce is gone. I am sad. And I miss him more than I ever could have imagined – but those are my issues… no one else’s. I have to figure this out myself before I drive everyone off. I love them and they love me, but this will drive them away if I’m not careful… I need some courage – I am losing my confidence.

May 11, 2014:
* It’s Mother’s Day… I’m trying not to feel bad about being alone. I know we all live too far apart for anyone to come for just a day. I just find that “special” days are hard now that they aren’t so “special” – just another day.

* I just don’t want to be here alone. The kids have called or skyped… It’s funny how something so simple means so much. I know I’m not entitled to expect anything but would be nice to feel special.
May 10, 2015:

* Yuck! Mother’s Day #3 without you, Babe… alone…again. The kids have already started calling this morning which makes me smile.

* It is still hard to accept – I wish I had been a better mom. If I could, I would do things different… Being a mom was the one thing I always wanted to do and be when I grew up… and I really managed to screw it up.

* Today is one of those days when I am hanging on by a thread. I feel myself slipping into a darkness that seems to surround every thought. I need to turn this thought process around. I am trying so hard not to fall down that rabbit hole of self-doubt and self-loathing today, but it is hard.
Current reflections for the day:

Six years later, my Mother’s Day was wonderful! Life is different, but I am learning to adjust.
* Yes, there is still a lot of guilt and “I-wish-I-had’s”, but I can’t change the past… Only the future… And I work at that one.

* I still miss him… I wish more than anything I could physically be with Bruce, all of my kids and my grandson, but that is not where we are as a family. Instead, I got to talk to all of my kids, and spend the day with two of them (and my grandson). I was able to talk to both my mom and Bruce’s mom – a blessing beyond words.

* God did then and does continue to provide the love and support I need to get through each day… not just Mother’s Day… and I am eternally thankful for that.

So, whether you spent this day alone or with those you love, I pray today sent you at least one smile… from my heart to yours…

Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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… Facing the Lion Ahead

Why are you gone?
Why aren’t you here?
The lions are here…
Where are you?
I can’t do this!
I don’t have what it takes!
I don’t!
I’m scared!
The lions are circling,
And I don’t have the strength to fight them…
Not again… It’s too much…
Help me, Babe…
Show me I’m not alone.
~ Linda, February 2015

Does it ever hit you as strange the things life seems to throw our way? Do you ever think “what in the world?” or “why?” … I know, I do.

When Bruce died I questioned everything in life… I wanted to know why, and I questioned whether God really loved me at all. I even questioned my own ability to keep going… It felt so impossible at the time. In the last five years, while there hasn’t really been any answers, there has been a lot of healing as I have learned to come to terms with the changes life throw my way.

These last 2 weeks, however, have found me struggling with news that (once again) I’m not real sure how to handle… Two weeks ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

It is my lion ahead…

At first, I chose to only share the news with our families and a few close friends. I didn’t want to tell anyone… I just life to be normal. I could barely wrap my brain around the whole thing… much less talk about it.

In last week’s blog, I could only bring myself to share my fear about handling this without Bruce by my side, but I still couldn’t name it… I even debated whether I wanted to share the whole truth here or not.

However, this past week, as I have struggled with the reality of this whole thing (and all it encompasses), I knew I needed to share this here… with you. I’m know I’m not the first widow to deal with cancer without my spouse by my side. And since it is now a part of my experience as a widow, I need to be honest about it and share it openly. This is not something I would ever wish on anyone. But if you ever find yourself here… I hope you never feel alone.

I think that is my biggest struggle… I’m already scare, but doing this without Bruce makes it even scarier… I would give anything to feel his arms around me… To hear him tell me it’s going to be okay – We’ve got this… “We”… That’s part I need…

Don’t misunderstand… Our families have been beyond supportive – both Bruce’s and mine. I know I am not really alone. I know everyone is willing to help me any way they can.

But, it’s the emotional part… It’s the part where I feel like I’m going to fall apart at any moment. It’s the part where the tears are always right behind my eyelids. It’s the part where I need to just collapse and let someone else handle it for a while… Because I don’t think I can.

This week, despite being given very good odds, I have found myself spiraling down the rabbit hole of anxiety and depression. I have done a lot of reading that says this is normal. They say it is actually a type of grief… Grief for the life you thought was yours, but now will involve all kinds of surgery and treatments… And even if everything goes well, there will be a life-long chance of recurrence. For someone who is never sick… (Shoot, I don’t even feel sick now!)… this just doesn’t feel real.

I think it’s that “C” word… It’s just a scary word… It creates so many negative thoughts and scenarios in my head… And I don’t know how to stop thinking about it. I don’t really have the luxury to not think about it. I have constant appointments with all different doctors, and each one tells me something different… Each one proposes new ideas requiring different decisions… It’s all so overwhelming…

I wish I could end this on a positive note today… I wish I could say, “No big deal; no worries. I’ve got this!” But this week… today… I don’t feel like “I’ve got this”… Instead, I feel like this has got me, and I’m not a fan.

I’m not questioning the “why me” this time, but I sure don’t know why God chose to have me do this without Bruce… That part is still hard… But for whatever reason, here I am… and cancer is the lion ahead… The lion I have to face alone.

Would you be as lost as me
if our roles were changed?
Because I’m lost…
I keep looking for you wherever I go…
~ Linda, January 2018

Sometimes when we feel like we are finally figuring this thing out, life throws something else our way. Learning to live with our grief and deal with these ever-changing circumstances can be overwhelming. I know each of us reacts differently and each of us will do it in our own way and in our own time. Today’s blog is simply my newest experience, and how I am trying to make some sense of this and move forward. Maybe this feels familiar… If so, 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. *

Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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… Lonely But Not Alone

As the Christmas season takes off with a bang, I find myself in a love/hate relationship with it… I go back and forth between excitement and joy for the season versus tears and sadness because Bruce isn’t here to share it… between feeling loved by my circle of family and friends versus overwhelming loneliness because the person I love is no longer here to by my side.

As we decorate our house or listen to Christmas music, each ornament and song stirs precious Christmas memories. When those memories circle around Bruce, I find myself either smiling… or crying. I never seem know which is coming… There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to any of it, (and it’s hard to control something you don’t understand). If I am with anyone else, then I really push myself to smile. I know this is a happy season, and the last thing anyone needs to deal with is my grief. But, whenever I am alone and the tears start, I let them come… At least for a little bit, because I need to let it out somehow.

While I don’t understand all the triggers, I know this – I am not alone, but I am lonely… and there is a huge difference.

Being alone refers to the number of people present… For example, one (just me) vs three (me plus the other people who live in my house). I have no problem being alone. I enjoy “me” time and seek it out at least once a week. However, I also enjoy having my daughter and grandson living here. I love their company, the laughter and relationships. I love the feelings of love and support which are a constant in this home. At this point, I am only alone when I choose to be alone… And I love knowing it is a choice.

For me, though, feeling lonely is something completely different… It is that feeling that there is something deep inside that is missing. I believe it is the longing for a specific relationship… One that was taken away without any warning… And to be completely honest, I DON’T LIKE IT! NOT ONE BIT! Even after all this time, I still don’t like it! I would still give absolutely anything to have Bruce back… even for just one more hour… one more moment together.

It is the longing for that relationship… for that person which makes me feel lonely. I believe there will always be a part of me in every moment that will long for Bruce. I know it sounds hokey to say “he completed me.” I know we should “be whole individuals” on our own… But I also know humans are relational. Rare is the person who goes through life absolutely alone (with no one else) and still remains happy. We need other people… We need deep, intimate relationships.

For me, Bruce was the person with whom I shared that deep intimate relationship. He knew and understood me… He knew things about me, no one else will ever know… And yet, he still loved me… I miss that… I miss the way we could share a look and know exactly what the other one was thinking. I miss his hugs and his gentle touch. I miss his smile when he was up to no good, and his laughter when life touched his soul. I miss looking into his eyes and seeing nothing but love in return. I miss the way he believed in me, and supported whatever adventure I wanted to pursue next. I miss all of this and so much more… I miss him…

And that is what makes me feel lonely.

So while there are others here who love me, and I love them, there will always be someone missing – Bruce. And for him, I will always feel lonely… There will always be a part of me, that is missing… a part that feels incomplete and lost.

Lately, I have been better at managing to keep my lonely moments to those times I am alone. However, I guess, this season of love and family also carries many triggers for that loneliness. I do know each year, this season holds more joy and fewer tears than the year before. However, I doubt I will ever get used to the idea of celebrating Christmas, (or living this life), without Bruce…

And even though I am not alone, and I am very loved, there will always be a part of me that is lonely… Please, be patient with me…

I miss you, Babe! <3

I am so thankful for this virtual group. Our support for each other always touches my heart, and I feel close to you through the experiences we share. Is there anyone else out there who is experiencing that loneliness I am talking about? Please share your thoughts and stories, so others will realize what they feel is normal too… We are all dealing with some extremely intense, emotional stuff, and none of us needs to handle this alone. Learning to navigate this journey is different for each of us. It brings its individual challenges and lessons. Through it we come to realize we are stronger than we thought we were. 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. *

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… Learn to Be Lonely

Learn to Be Lonely
Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
Learn to find your way in darkness
Who will be there for you?
Comfort and care for you?
Learn to be lonely
Learn to be your one companion
Never dreamed out in the world
There are arms to hold you
Your heart was on its own
So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived
Life can be loved
Alone
~Andrew Lloyd Webber, Phantom of the Opera

I heard this song the other day, and it really hit home with me… Almost immediately, my eyes filled with tears, and I thought, “Yes, exactly! That is where I am.” … Learning to live alone… and learning how to love that life despite being alone.

According to the dictionary, “lonely” has several definitions. The one that seems to hit home for me is “Without others of a similar kind.” I think that is why I often feel so lonely… because within my family and my closest friends, I am the only widow. So, while I am around people almost all the time, I am the only one that knows what this feels like… how hard it can be… how lonely it can be…

And how determined I am to not just live my life, but to love it, too…

That is the hard part – loving it…

I love the people I am with – my family and my friends. I love the laughter and adventures we share. I love taking trips together. I love simple debates and intimate conversations… I love all these things and more.

But…

I miss being held and feeling the safety of his arms. I miss looks across the room that convey an entire conversation without a word being spoken. I miss sharing a private joke and dreaming about our future together. I miss caring for each other and supporting each other. I miss hugs when I’m down or for absolutely no reason at all. I miss extra dishes in the sink and seeing his beer in the frig… I miss the way he wore shorts in the dead of winter and always cooked in his bare feet. I miss being greeted at the door with a glass of wine and dancing in the kitchen. There is so much… And I miss it all!

I am alone.
All alone.
No longer is there someone to listen at the end of the 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…
I am alone…
All alone.
~ Linda, September 2013

I know life goes on… That is a reality I have had to accept.

I have learned to smile again (at least on the outside). I am learning to have fun again and to laugh again. I am learning to step out on my own and push beyond my comfort zone. In other words, I am learning to live again… Only this time, I have to learn how to do it without Bruce… without anyone to tell me how to make this work… In fact, I have to do this without having any idea how to do this…

In other words, I have to “learn to be lonely” … and still be okay…

Everyone deals with grief and the loneliness it creates in their own way and in their own time… These are only my thoughts and observations this week as I find myself trying to push myself to try a few new things (even if it is beyond my comfort zone). Maybe grief has been that way for you, as well. Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when our loneliness leaves us feeling 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. *

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… Happy anniversary… Then and now…

Note: This week I celebrated my and Bruce’s wedding anniversary. Instead of my regular style blog, I thought I would simply share my thoughts and celebration from that day… Hopefully, you can relate to some part of it…

This morning I woke up half crying and half excited… It is a weird feeling. All week I have been listening to some of our favorite music, and the memories have been flooding back… each one bringing a smile that just as quickly turns to tears.

Some of the memories I have not thought about for years. Yet, they almost surprise me with the vividness of colors, smells and emotions… The distinct memories of looking into Bruce’s gentle eyes and always seeing nothing but love.

Remembering everything from the first moment until the last… The way he would tilt his head and smile when he was up to no good, or how he would always reach out to touch me whenever we were close. The way he would come up from behind, hug me and kiss that special spot on the side of my neck, and then peek over my shoulder to see what I was doing… Which by that point my legs had turned to jello, and I was usually melting into his hug.

I remember the day we were married… Going out to lunch together, but both of us were too nervous and excited to eat anything. Then, heading back home to get ready. I remember waiting our turn at the courthouse… Bruce was so anxious (and so was I to be honest). He kept going and checking to see “how much longer” while his Dad tried to lighten the mood by making us all laugh. Then at 3:45 PM, it was finally our turn… It all happened so fast! Afterward, we were both so happy we couldn’t let go of each other. Even at dinner, we both held on to each other… and simply smiled.

I remember sitting with Bruce and gazing into the fire… so excited about everything our future had to offer simply because we were together…

I remember each and every anniversary through the years. Bruce always had a way of making each one special…

Move ahead to this year… Despite what others may think, I still take the day off… I still celebrate our love… Only now, I do it alone…

Hi Babe! Happy anniversary… #11. Wow! My third without you…My third filled with tears. I thought our “happily ever after” would really be forever… but here I am… alone – without you. All week I’ve been listening to Kenny Chesney’s Blue Rocking Chair CD. Remember that one? We both bought it when we came back from the islands after we met. It reminded us both of that magical week. : ) … It still does. All week, I’ve been remembering so many precious, precious moments from our short time together… (I’d give anything to start over and do it all again)… I miss us!

I remember our first conversation on the boat at the bar, our first kiss at Duffy’s Love Shack (when you said I should have slapped you!), my first trip to Michigan and yours to SC, your proposal on the tower at our beach, the move to Michigan (when my youngest was so angry with us both) and our wedding day… You planned every detail, and it was perfect! Just a few of the people we love and us… champagne and nibbles at the condo. Then, dinner at Timbers. You even made sure we had a table by the fire (especially for me). I remember the two of us just sitting there gazing into the fire, unable to let go of each other – not quite able to believe we were really married… no more good-byes… or so we thought.

Our years together were so beautiful. I still can’t believe it ended so soon. I have to be careful how much I let myself dwell on it, because it can still bring me down. It still makes me so angry that you’re gone. Damn it! It’s not right! You’re supposed to be here… beside me… holding me… loving me. I still miss you so much. It’s almost been four years apart. How can that be? How can my heart still be so attached to yours? I love you… always and forever, Babe!
~ Linda’s journal, November 2016

I started the morning with Bruce watching the sunrise over the very beach where we spent so much time and where his ashes were scattered. The sunrise was the most beautiful I have ever seen. There was every shade of orange, yellow, pink, red and purple… It was impossible to tell where the sky ended and the ocean began… Such a magical way to start the day together. I brought Bruce some roses, rum : ) and a card. (Yes, I still do all the “normal” anniversary things.) It took me a quite a while to find just the right card, but I finally did… It read, “There’s nothing I’ll ever want more than another year of you… Unless it’s another year of us.” (So true!)

Inside the card, I wrote, “… I would give anything for another moment with you… You are always on my mind… Thank you for the gift of fun, laughter, great conversations, acceptance… and especially your love! That is a gift I will always treasure…”

I spent the rest of the day celebrating and remembering… I went to our favorite restaurant for lunch. In fact, this has become such a tradition that the staff always remembers me and makes it such a special meal. They always manage to find that perfect balance between leaving me to my memories and spending time with me so I don’t feel abandoned or completely alone.

For dinner, I had the special honor of celebrating with our grandson at one of Bruce’s favorite seafood spots in town. Then, to end the day… a bit of champagne and a Jimmy Buffet dance party. This seems to have become a tradition to every “Bruce” celebration, but I should probably explain this part a little…

Bruce and I have so many fun memories of parrothead tailgating and concerts… But my sweetest memories are of coming home in mid-winter to find the heat turned up, Bruce in his swim trunks, island concoctions made and Jimmy Buffet playing on the stereo. Then, the rest of the night would be spent dancing barefoot in the kitchen, laughing and simply loving life…

This is the man I love… this is the love we share… and… This is how I celebrated that love this year…

Happy anniversary, Babe! I can’t wait to feel your arms around me again one day… I love you… always and forever!

What about you? How do you celebrate those special days in your life now? Or do you need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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… Life with a purpose

Hey Beautiful,
… I’ve spent 10 years living day by day just knowing you were out there somewhere and knowing that somewhere, somehow we would meet. I tried not to think about it. I was just trying to be a good dad and give <my daughter> what she needed. I really believe God has a plan and I was just going to have faith and let it happen. Now it’s happened and I thank God and can’t wait to see you again. You’ve given me a fresh outlook on life and I have a purpose again. Thank you!

I love you so much!
Bruce, March, 2005

Life with a purpose… isn’t that what we are all looking for in some way? I remember when Bruce wrote this letter to me. He said I gave him a purpose, but I can tell you without a doubt, he gave my life purpose, as well. When he died, I was so confused… so lost. I couldn’t understand why I was still here, and he was gone. The first year without him, I felt as if I no longer had a purpose. Surviving day to day seemed to be the only purpose I could find… at first.

As that first year drew to a close, I began to realize that I was still here for a reason. It was going to be up to me to figure out that reason and find a new focus. That next year, I focused on my own healing – emotionally and spiritually. Don’t get me wrong, I think this is one of those “on-going, for-the-rest-of-your-life” kind of things. But what I did learn that year was our purpose is always evolving. We should not expect it to remain the same year to year or possibly even day to day.

Our purpose is “for a season” – a season of life… and then, it evolves into something else… something new and different. Sometimes that change may be so subtle, we can’t even pinpoint when it actually changed. Then, there are other times (like Bruce’s death), when the change is so sudden and severe, it leaves us reeling and struggling to breathe.

The following year, I felt drawn to start this blog. My purpose was (and is) to tell the true story of dealing with loss. I wanted to tell the whole story – the good and the bad, the celebrations and the struggles, the highs and the lows… I wanted to write about the realities of being the one left behind after a loss.

Why?

Partly because I can write what I can’t say. When Bruce passed away, I had a very quick “reality check.” I learned that we (as a society) have let Hollywood dictate our opinions about loss and grief – how is to be experienced and what we should say to one another for comfort. Then, (according to Hollywood) we are all supposed to forget it, move on and “live happily ever after.”

But that is a myth; it isn’t the reality. I guess I felt my purpose has been to point that out… to let others dealing with loss know they aren’t alone. When I started, I decided that even if it only helped one person, that would make it worthwhile in my book. While I know it has made some people uncomfortable, according to the messages I receive, it has made many more people feel validated in their own experiences… so this blog is a worthwhile purpose “for this season.”

However, while I write honestly about my feelings and experiences here, I know my grief is “old news” to those closest to me. Therefore in my everyday life, I don’t usually talk about this stuff anymore… If I really need to talk to someone, I will. But generally, I try to ensure it is a rare conversation.

Which brings up another “why?” Because, while I want to help others going through similar experiences, I don’t want my whole life to be focused on the frustrations of loss. I want to live a “normal” life. Plus, I have learned that what I focus on in life will expand… and I don’t need any more sadness or frustration in my life.

For example, I found myself struggling this week as this holiday weekend approached. For me, Easter is more than a religious celebration… It is a family celebration of life. However, I knew that I would be alone, and loneliness is a huge issue for me, as it is with most widows and widowers (even years later). Since I have a hard time expressing that, no one around me knew. So, as I found myself focusing on the “alone” piece, the “pity party” started in my head.

However, about mid-week I made a choice. I decided to change my focus from “alone” and redirect it in a positive way. I couldn’t change the “alone” factor, but I could make my time alone positive and productive. So… I completely “unplugged” this weekend. I started on Friday evening, and have spent the last 2 days enjoying a quiet, spiritual retreat weekend. It has been beautiful… and definitely much better than feeling sorry for myself.

This year, while I am still writing this blog (and will continue until it no longer serves a purpose), I can feel my day-to-day purpose shifting. My current focus seems to be around spiritual growth. For what? I have no idea, but I have definitely been drawn in that direction… And I am willing to follow this path and remain open to new ideas and experiences in my life.

In some ways, I feel I am following Bruce’s lead. His calm, steady, quiet faith was unshakable. I always loved to hear him tell how he knew I was “out there somewhere” and we would meet when it was time.

From the time we met until the night he died, he wore an anchor on a chain around his neck. A simple, silver anchor – the symbol of hope. He used to say that it symbolized his hope and his faith all those years as he waited for us to find each other. He would talk about being lonely for years, but how he never gave up hope or settled for something less than what he knew was right.

Now I wear that that chain with the anchor (and our wedding bands). It is my reminder that life always offers hope… and that is where I need to focus.

What about you? Do you ever struggle with why you are still here and your loved one is not? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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… What’s supposed to be and what is…

It still hurts
It’s so quiet here,
And I’m so alone.
I relive so many memories in my mind.
And for a moment, I can smile again.
Then, I breathe and open my eyes…
And once again, I am alone.
This sadness is never ending.
The pain can be unbearable.
Do you hear me when I call out to you?
I feel so horribly alone.
How long will this pain live inside me?
How long will I have to smile, when all I want to do is cry?
I find my self pulling ever further inward…
There is no one to understand.
They are not cruel…
They try… they care.
But they do not know how to comfort me…
They love me…
I love them…
But there is a chasm between them and me…
And another between me and you…
And it all hurts so bad.
~ Linda, November 4, 2015

Fall 2005 – Bruce and I had spent the entire summer together in Michigan. We already knew that we loved each other, but the summer showed us exactly how compatible and connected we were. As the summer ended, I went back to SC to teach. It didn’t take long, though, for us to realize that being apart was not going to work. However, we both had daughters in high school, and wanted to let them graduate before we did anything permanent.

Within a month of being home, I learned that I had lost everything. All the money I had invested with a family “friend” had been embezzled. I had 4 kids to take care of, an ex-husband who refused to pay child support, and a job that I loved but did not pay a livable wage… so without my investments there was not enough income. Bruce never hesitated. He wanted to move ahead with the marriage. I hesitated… I wanted us to get married because it was what WE wanted and WHEN we wanted it. He was quite convincing that it WAS what he wanted. I remember my mother telling me that it was a good thing… my kids would get the experience of witnessing a healthy marriage and having a loving male figure in their lives. For me, there was a knowing that the right thing was to stay on the path of love and happiness we were on… So, 2 weeks later, I agreed… I wanted it too…

There was Bruce… my hero… And he remained my hero from that day forward…

October came. I gave notice at my school, and we started planning for the move to Michigan. It all happened quite quickly. My oldest daughter had already graduated college and my second was away at college. My son was a senior in High School and already eighteen, so he moved in with his best friend’s family for the remainder of the school year. It was just my youngest daughter and I (and our cat) leaving. After two days, we arrived in Michigan late on Halloween night.

On November 9, 2005, (a Wednesday) at 3:30 PM at the county courthouse, Bruce and I were married. Because it all happened so quickly, the only people there were his parents, his daughter and my youngest daughter. I remember that it was a beautiful fall day. Afterward, we went back to the house for champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Then, dinner at a local restaurant. He had taken care of everything… I just had to show up. It was all so simple and so beautiful, and we were ecstatic…

(us immediately after the ceremony)

But…

It was not what we had originally planned. During the summer we had planned a beach wedding with both of our families beside us. Circumstances had changed that. But Bruce, always the hero, told me not to worry. For our ten year anniversary, we would have our beach wedding with everyone from both our families. It would be beautiful, and it would be special…

But that wasn’t meant to be.

This year would have been that tenth anniversary. Sadly, my hero didn’t make it that long.

This is my third anniversary without him, and (I think because it is the current one) it feels like the hardest. All week I have been thinking that I should be laughing… and happy… and planning a ten-year anniversary ceremony. Instead, I have been working hard not to twist reality into something it isn’t… It isn’t a punishment from God… It is just the cycle of life. I have wanted to reach out for help but I feel like I’m asking for more than anyone can handle. After all, it’s been almost 3 years now… How long does this go on?

The reality is losing a spouse is harder than one might think. This is the person you committed to love and share every intimate detail of your life with. So many people equate it with divorce, but it’s not even close. I’ve been divorced. It was hard too, but this is different. There are no choices with death. Also, with death, the relationship isn’t what died – it is only the physical connection that is cut off… the love is still there.

This week I have felt like I am back at square one… back in limbo – going through the motions of life as if I am in a dream – no purpose, no point… Like wondering through a dark house with no one to answer when you call out.

Last year I did a pretty good job celebrating the love we knew and not focusing on the sadness of loss. This year I plan to do the same. I will take a beer and some roses to the beach where Bruce’s ashes were scattered and spend some time with him. Then, I have reservations at the restaurant where we celebrated our last anniversary together.

Bruce was so excited to have found this tiny eclectic restaurant. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, just that he knew I would love it… and I did. I remember on the way home I asked him if we could celebrate the rest of our anniversaries there. “Of course,” he smiled back… “Every one… from now on.” Two months later he was gone, but I do… I have returned every year to celebrate the love we shared. And every year, the restaurant staff is more than gracious to accommodate me… And I will celebrate “us” every year… from now on.

I am a little sad tonight (a few tears), and I think I will be sad tomorrow but that’s okay. It’s okay to feel what I feel… it is normal to be sad, and I will be okay… Mainly because of a conversation I had a couple of days ago. Someone I know was sharing a loss they had just experienced and stated that the worse part was the confusion and frustration that comes from having no choices in what happened. I would agree… (When Bruce died, I felt so angry and frustrated. I remember I told my friends “don’t let me become a bitter, angry, old woman… that’s not who I am or who I want to be.”)

Long after our conversation had ended, it dawned on me that one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned since Bruce died was born out of the love that we shared. It was Bruce’s legacy, and it is this:

None of us gets to choose what life tosses our way.
Our choice is:
“Can I love more today than yesterday, not despite what has happened,
but because what has happened.”
~ Linda, November 2015

How do you manage your big days? I would love to hear from you… Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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… Missing: Human Touch

Are you there?

Are you there?
Are you listening? Did you see me cry?
Have you felt my tears? My pain?

Are you there?
Are you holding me when I cry? When I am scared?
When I don’t want to take the next step?

Are you there?
Are you beside me as I lay sleeping? As I walk on the beach?
When I call your name in the dark?
You said you’d never leave me… So,
Are you there?

~ Linda, October 7, 2013

Perhaps you have heard of Gary Chapman’s book, The Five Love Languages. It’s an interesting look at relationships. According to Mr. Chapman, there are five basic ways that we can feel loved. He calls these “love languages”, and they are time, touch, words of affirmation, gifts and acts of service.

The basic idea is that, as individuals, we feel loved when our significant other uses our “love language.” In turn, we naturally tend to show love in our own “love language.” Sometimes couples will share the same love language. However, if you and your mate do not share the same love language, then you will both need to adjust how you show love in order to meet each person’s emotional needs within the relationship. (Keep in mind, this comes from a book. Obviously there is a lot more to it, but that is the basic idea.)

Bruce and I were blessed. We shared the same primary love language – touch.
We could sit for hours just holding hands or snuggling. We didn’t need to talk or even have the TV on… We were just content to be together. In the car, he always had one hand on the steering wheel and the other either holding mine or resting on my thigh. Even after 8 years, we would fall asleep in other’s arms and somehow end up back there again in the morning. We never walked by each other without reaching out and touching as we passed. Even if he was reclining in his chair, he would chuckle whenever I reached out and touched his toes while passing by.

If we were angry or upset with each other, it didn’t matter – the touching never stopped… because the love didn’t stop. It was just a natural extension of who we were as a couple – no matter the emotional current of the moment.

At the time, it seemed like such a small thing – touch. It didn’t cost anything. It wasn’t hard to do… It didn’t seem like anything huge or extraordinary. It was a small gesture that was as natural to both of us as breathing…

But now it is gone.

It may sound odd, but it is one of the things I miss most… probably because it was what made me feel loved and whole. But since Bruce has been gone, life is very different… Human touch has become a rare commodity in my world.

I try to get my “fixes” when I can. For example, when I am with my kids or family, I hang on… hugging, snuggling and holding hands… and (luckily) they don’t seem to mind. The problem? Like most of today’s society, we don’t live anywhere near each other, so our visits are spread out.

I, also, have wonderful friends who are willing to give this girl a hug whenever I ask for one. In the beginning, I asked a lot… I didn’t hesitate. I would ask several times a day, in fact. As a new widow, it seemed “normal” enough. I don’t think anyone thought too much about it. But as time has passed, I have learned to tone it down. After all, it’s a little strange for a grown, adult woman to walk around gathering hugs like a squirrel gathers acorns.

In the past, I always either lived near family or had children at home. Now, however, I live alone in a city without any family nearby. Now, I may go days or even weeks without any human touch. This is a weird experience for me… There has been so much adjustment and change since Bruce died, but this one seems to be the hardest… This one seems to have the greatest affect on my life. It just seems to trickle into every corner of my world… Probably because it is my love language.

Other than asking for hugs when I need them, I don’t know that there is a real “fix” for this one… just a major adjustment in my thought processes. But for those who still have their loved ones by their side, there is something I want to share…

The night Bruce died was like any other… neither of us knew what lay ahead in the next few hours. We went to bed laughing and held each other as we slept. A few, short hours later, I held him in my arms as he drew his last breath… even then, we were still touching…

So, don’t waste one precious moment… use every opportunity to fill each other up with love now (whatever the language)… both of you will not be here forever. You never know which moment will be the last spent together.

What about you? What is your love language that was lost when your loved one died? How have you filled that gap? Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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