mourning – Page 2 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Losing it “all”

This week’s blog is another look at a different type of loss… material loss. This can involve varying degrees of loss… but like any other type – it is still loss… and it is still scary.

When my first marriage ended, my children and I literally ran away with nothing more than the clothes on our backs. Let me explain… I knew we needed to leave; I was making plans. I had seen an attorney, and was following her instructions concerning copies of documents I would need and eventually, finding a very public place to tell him I was leaving. (The more public, hopefully, the less explosive his reaction.)

However, life doesn’t always go according to plan and one morning things escalated too far. When the kids and I left for school that morning, I knew we weren’t coming back… I, also, knew I was walking away from the security of a home and the financial ability to provide for my children.

Things seem to have a way of falling into place or happening for a reason, because during the 3 years of divorce proceedings, God provided. My husband was deemed (by the court) unable to handle the finances, so I was put in charge of everything until an agreement was reached on how to split the property. During that time, the court gave me a budget which allowed me to provide for my kids, and we were also allowed to stay in the home… Both huge blessings that I never expected.

As I’ve mentioned before, in order to settle on an agreement, the majority of the money went to my ex-husband in exchange for my full and complete custody of the children. At the time, I wasn’t too worried. As long as we could sell our home, there would be enough money (if invested properly) to supplement my teaching income and create a livable wage.

However, even when I thought I had it all figured out, God had a dfferent plan. I invested the money with a “family friend” who almost immediately embezzled every dime. We lost it all… I found myself a single mother of four with nothing… Quite frquently I was choosing between putting food on the table or heating my home – choices that no one should ever have to make.

Jump ahead… with the support of people I love, I managed to start again and move ahead. I learned that I could do things I never would have dreamed I could do… and all because I had to – I did not see another choice.

Now I live in a small, quiet town. I love it here… Bruce and I built our home here. I feel drawn to this place, and my life here is peace-filled. But this town has seen some very tough economic times over the past few years. As a result, we have our homeless men, women and children living among us.

Many people don’t see them… as if they are just a part of the scenary as one moves past. But they are there… If you look closely, they are at the gas stations, in front of our stores, on the exit ramps from the highway and in many cases, living in the woods.

They are people… And at one time, they were our neighbors. They, too, lost it all but their story (so far) is without a happy ending. At the time Bruce died, in this area, there were over 600,000 homeless men, women and children. Of that number, 1/4 are children. As I write this, recent research shows that 1 out of 4 children in our state are homeless… That is staggering!

But this is not a political speech or a sermon. I just want people to understand how easily and quickly people can find themselves without…. without food, without a home… without anything. I know because (as I just explained), I was almost there as well. So many times I think, “There but for the grace of God, go I….” *

These thoughts are brought home to me every year in an event called “Stand Down.” This event takes place yearly around the country, and in our town is sponsored by the Disabled American Veterans (DAV) . It is intended for our homeless veterans but no one is turned away. It is a one day event in which the homeless from several counties are offered food and clothing. On top of that, our homeless vets are offered such services as health screenings and benefits counseling.

The best part of the day (for me) is volunteering to be an escort for the day. I originally volunteered because I felt so blessed to have (barely) escaped this same fate so I wanted to give back. However, what I have learned and taken away spiritually is so much more.

As the homeless come into the center, an escort greets them. We spend the day with them… we eat meals with them, help them find what they need but most important, we are their friend… We talk to them and listen to their stories (which, but the way, are eerily familiar).

Originally, I went with the intention of helping them… of making a change in their world. But I find that I have gained so much more than I have given. I have learned so much from these people…

We might say these people have “lost it all.” But have they? I have learned the true strength of the human soul and find myself wondering if I could be half as brave as these individuals if I had ended up in their shoes. For years, I have watched these people take only what they absolutely need no matter how much is offered. I have watched them share with each other without hesitation or resentment.

I have learned that they are smart, funny, kind, brilliant, humble, and courageous… they are human… and they are us… all of us…

I guess what I am trying to say is through all of this, I have learned a few things about “losing it all”… Stuff is stuff; it comes and goes and can be replaced again. But it is the relationships and people in our lives that matter and make life worth living. So, as long as we never lose our human connections and relationships with each other, we really haven’t “lost it all.”

* Credited to John Bradford

I Met a Man
I met a man without a home
And yet, he smiled.
He looked me in the eye
And shook my hand.
He did not ask for anything –
Yet he needed everything.
He did not complain –
But I wouldn’t have blamed him.
Could I have done the same?
We talked and laughed
And spent the day together.
My goal had been to help him.
But when the day was over,
I was the one who had been changed.
I was the one who had been blessed.
And all because,
I met a man without a home.

~ Linda, September 21, 2013

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.

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Peace, Love and Grief… We choose who we are

It was a typical Monday a few weeks ago and I was on my way to work at the the ridiculous hour of 6 AM. I had stopped at a local gas station for some caffeine, and while paying, the clerk asked the “required” question, “How are you today?” I smiled and responsed, “Fabulous! How about you?” He laughed and said anyone who could be fabulous so early on a Monday morning must have been sent to make HIS day better, too. We both laughed, and I walked out the door to continue my day.

That conversation is becoming more common these days. While it was definitely typical before Bruce passed, it was not typical for the first 2 years after he died. I was not fabulous and I just couldn’t fake it…

In the very beginning, I was in such shock that I don’t really remember a whole lot of what was happening. I have a few sketchy memories that let me know, I was breathing… but not functional. For example, the day after Bruce died (or the one after that), I was sitting on the couch by his Dad just staring at nothing… trying to just focus on breathing and not falling completely apart. When his Dad spoke up, “Are you going to contact a funeral home?”

Me – Do I need to?

Dad – Yes, you need to make arrangements for him.

He was right and he said with love, but it was horrible to hear. I didn’t want to do it… That would make everything way too real. I knew nothing about death and funerals and all the things I needed to do. I am sure the people around me must have helped and given me direction, but I don’t remember… I was lost somewhere deep inside myself.

I must have given the appearance of being fine because less than 2 weeks later, I was alone again. Rather than sit alone and stare at the walls, I went back to work. While it was good for me to be with people (my co-workers were wonderful), I can’t really say how productive I was… I can’t remember. I do remember looking out my office window (a lot)… it overlooks a major highway in our city and every semi-truck that passed brought a new round of tears. That’s where Bruce was supposed to be… I didn’t want to face this “new normal”… I couldn’t accept it as real.

If you are grieving and you remember these feelings… you are very normal and so am I. It is called shock (or grief brain). If you have watched someone going through this and thought they have lost their mind – they haven’t.
I’m not a doctor or a scientist but it was explained to me this way: The pain of losing someone we love can be so intense that the body will go into a protective mode by shutting down small parts of the brain until the person is better able to deal with the situation.

This initial shock usually lasts about 3 – 4 months. That is another issue… At the 3 – 4 month point, most of the people who have been checking in on you disappear from the scene. It is like clockwork, and every mourner I have spoken to has experienced it at about the same point. So here you are – the shock of your loss and a new life is wearing off… and the people who are still available to help you through it are few.

At this point, I found myself pulling in even further. I was so scared… I didn’t want to burn out the few people still listening and holding me while I cried… (Although, I probably did anyway.) I was completely lost and had no idea how to move forward. Breathing seemed to be the only “do-able” thing on the agenda.

That was then… so how did I get where I am now? Like turning the Titanic, it has been a long and slow process… and I am still working on it day to day.

Somewhere after the first 10 months, I met a wonderful life coach. She helped me realize that while I can’t control everything that happens in my world, I can control how I respond. Is it really that easy? No – not by a long shot! It is probably the hardest thing I have ever done… and I have to do it every single day.

You see, every morning when I wake up, I reach out… and next to me, I find emptiness. Each morning, I am reminded once again that Bruce is gone. This is real, and this is my life. This is my first choice of the day. I could fall apart at that point… I used to… and honestly, there are still some days when I STILL do.

But the majority of the time, I ask myself the same questions my dear friend and coach asked me a couple of years ago, “How do you think you are showing up for the rest of the world?” and “Is that how you want to show up?”

While they sound so simple, those are some pretty deep questions. I want to be honest about my experience and who I am now but I don’t want to bring the rest of the world down – I don’t want to be pitied or be a burden. Somehow, there needs to be a balance between being a positive part of society while still being honest and genuine.

I know how I want to show up… I want to be a positive part of other people’s day. (I don’t want to drag them down.) When I finally leave this world, I want to feel that I left it a little better than when I came in… I want to believe I made a positive difference to someone. But, I know I can’t do that if I am leaving sadness in my wake wherever I go.

I think for me, one of the biggest turning points came when I heard two mourners talking one day. One made the comment, “We can’t help the way we are, we didn’t ask for this. It’s not our fault and we can’t control it. The rest of the world can just deal with us.” She was right – we didn’t ask for this and it’s not our fault. But I realized she was also wrong – we can help it… we may not be able to control our grief every moment of every day, but we can certainly do our best to be our best.

More and more often lately, I hear how “strong” I am… I laugh inside because I’m not – at least I don’t feel strong. These two questions present a daily choice for me that isn’t easy or natural at this point in my journey… “Who do I want to be today?”

Some days I am better at the answer than other days… but I won’t give up. I refuse to be a “victim” of my circumstances. I refuse to let my grief control the rest of my life and who I am. I am determined to choose how I will live each day. I am determined to live as honestly and positively as possible, because ultimately… it really is up to me.

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. Your experience may have been completely different. Please share it with us by going to the comments and leaving 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… Growing accustomed to the loneliness

There is a song from the musical, My Fair Lady** that goes like this:

I’ve grown accustomed to her face
She almost makes the day begin
I’ve grown accustomed to the tune
That she whistles night and noon
Her smiles, her frowns
Her ups, her downs
Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out, breathing in
I was serenely independent and content before we met
Surely I could always be that way again and yet
I’ve grown accustomed to her looks
Accustomed to her voice
Accustomed to her face**

Well, change the “She’s” and “Her’s” to “He’s” and “His” and that seems to be my dilemma. Bruce seems to always be in my thoughts… always a part of of me. In so many ways that is comforting, but it also creates a loneliness that I can’t seem to shake – no matter how hard I try to pretend it isn’t there.

I’ve spent the past 4 weeks with family. It has been craziness and chaos compared to my “normal” life… in other words, it has been wonderful! Don’t misunderstand, even with the commotion of a 5 year old boy (“Almost six, GG!”), I have had my moments of loneliness and grief. The difference is the fun and love-filled distractions that I have felt.

This week, though, it was time for them to go home… now it is quiet… overwhelmingly quiet… deafening quiet… a quiet that is completely filled with loneliness. It is a time of readjusting (again) to my “new normal.”
Only it’s not so new… why do I still feel so lonely. I’ve always been one to cherish my “alone time”… It’s where I regroup and gather my energy. But this is different… There is no choice in this and there is no end. It is what will always be.

Have you ever driven through Kansas? It doesn’t matter what road you are on, it all looks the same. It goes on and on… and on – no turns; no change in scenery. That is what this loneliness feels like… no matter how far down the road I look, it is the same… there appears to be no hope for anything different.

Today my eyes kept leaking… I was determined not to cry but the tears were just as determined to find their way down my cheeks. I just miss him.

I miss his smile and the way his eyes literally sparkled whenever he was happy. I miss just laying in his arms, looking into his eyes and talking. I miss watching him BBQ on the porch in his barefeet while dancing. I miss his kisses to start each morning and his hugs at the end of a rough day. I miss holding hands in the car and while we watched TV. I miss cooking together on Sunday nights and feeding each other as we worked together. I miss it all… all those little things that you grow accustomed to… All those things that are no more… All those things that will never be again.

Now the challenge is how to grow accustomed to this loneliness. It has been 2.5 years. Most people just assume I am “over it.” Only my closest friends and my kids can tell when it is a rough day. The rest of the world has done what it should – it has moved on… why can’t I?

Why do I still want him to be here when I walk through the door? Why (every morning) do I still look beside me in the bed to see if he is there? Does anyone ever really grow accustomed to this? Or do we just get really good at pretending? I remember my grandmother lived another 20 years after my grandfather died. Even then, she would have days where she would wear his sweater because she “needed to feel him hugging her.” I know that feeling…

This week is a struggle but unlike when Bruce first died, now I know that I will grow accustomed to this loneliness (this unending quiet) again. I know that I will smile again… I will laugh again. I will have good days and bad days… again. (Hopefully, more good ones than bad.) I have no expectations from other people at this point. That would be ridiculous… life moves on, and they all have other needs – other concerns. This is my journey… my story. I have to figure this one out.

Until then, my eyes may leak a little more than I want them to, and people may tell me I am too emotional… That’s okay. I am still moving forward… I am still making progress.

I am still growing accustomed to the loneliness…

Do you also know this feeling? Have you been where I am? 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 or just sharing an emotion can make us feel validated and bring us closer.

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

** “I’ve Grown Accustomed To Her Face” was written by Alan Jay Lerner; Frederick Loewe

Peace, Love and Grief… A Tribute to a Father

His Love

A love that is pure
A love that sees who you can be,
Not who you are in that moment.
A love with no strings attached;
No conditions, no rules…
Just a love that is,
From a man who embodied love…
pure, complete love.
~ Linda, November 24, 2013

Father’s Day… hmmm – Interesting day. Let me start by saying that today’s blog is not really about grief. Instead it is filled with memories… it is a tribute to the man who became the father of my children. I am not talking about genetics or biology. I am talking about the man who loved my kids unconditionally – no judgement, no preconceived ideas or expectations – nothing but love. I am referring to Bruce… the man who came in to our lives for such a short time and changed everything we thought we knew about families and fathers.

However, to understand his impact, let me back up and explain a little bit here…
When I left my children’s biological father, my intent was to get my children out of a disfunctional and unsafe home. I just wanted to see them safe and protected. The court psychologist agreed and recommended no visitation for my ex-husband – not even supervised visitation. His recommendation was no parental rights (period).

When it came down to the final paperwork, according to my attorney, my ex-husband responded he would not fight the psychologist’s recommendation if I would agree to give him over 2/3 of the money (instead of the 50-50 set by state law)… I agreed. Essentially, I bought my children… I paid for their safety and a life of peace. I’ve never regretted that choice… It was the best deal I ever made.

After the divorce, I wasn’t looking for anyone – I wasn’t interested in a relationship. When I met Bruce, though, there was an instant connection, and we were married 10 months later. However, because we were 1000 miles apart, there had not been much opportunity for my kids to get to know him very well. They had met him and knew who he was, but they didn’t really know him… not yet.

I so badly wanted things to work for our new family so I started researching and reading everything I could find on step-parenting and blended families. Everything I read said it would take at least 2 years for our family to develop our new roles and relationships within our new family… and that was if things went well.

Bruce, on the other hand, had watched his own daughter struggle for years in a step-family relationship. He had his own concept of how he wanted to do this and (as far as I know) never read a single thing about step-families. He knew exactly what to do, and he did it consistently. Within 6 months, our family was a solid unit with my kids referring to Bruce as their Dad… In other words – he was amazing!

When I moved to Michigan to marry Bruce, my youngest daughter was the only one to come with me. My oldest had already graduated college and was living on her own. My second was away at college. My son was in the middle of his senior year, already 18 and did not want to move… To say my youngest daughter was angry about the whole situation would be an understatement.

The night we arrived in Michigan, Bruce was so excited we were there and greeted the two of us with smiles and hugs. My daughter pushed him aside, went straight to her new room, shut the door and remained there. I apologized to Bruce, but he only smiled and gave the same response I would hear for the next few months, “There is nothing to apologize for… she is angry. I can understand that, and my shoulders are big enough to take it.”

Much later I would learn he had left her a note on her bed that night saying just about the same thing. He told her that he was not trying to replace anyone or be her Dad. He only wanted her to know that he was here and he would always be here… for her… no matter what.

When she tells this story, she will tell you that she tore that note up immediately. She will also tell you that she put his words to the test… I will confirm that she did. She tried everything to make him not like her… much less love her. But he was true to his word… he never wavered, no matter what she tried. The amazing part? Within 6 months, on our first Father’s Day together, she baked him cookies and for the first time, called him her Dad.

That was who this man was… a big, gentle giant of a man with a heart that would not quit. Over the short time we were together, he built positive relationships with each of my kids. With my oldest (who was already a young adult), it was a peaceful, friendly relationship. I remember on one visit she introduced us to her neighbor as her mom and dad. The neighbor said, “Wow, you look just like your dad.” She didn’t try to correct him or explain. Instead, she and Bruce just smiled like Cheshire cats and hugged each other tight.

My second daughter and Bruce, were tight from the very first time they met, which was actually before we married. She had picked him up at the airport for me and driven him the 2 hours to our town. During that drive, she told him that she was glad to see her mom so happy, and she really liked him. Then, she went on to tell him that if he ever broke my heart or hurt me, she would “open a can of ‘whoop-a$$’ on him.” He used to laugh when he told that story because she isn’t much taller than me and just as petite. He absolutely loved her fire and energy for life, and they were best buds from that day forward.

When her son was born, he also instantly bonded with his “Poppa.” They would play or “hang out” watching football for hours. Bruce loved him with abandon and in his eyes, that boy could do no wrong. To this day, my grandson still talks about his Poppa and tells me that Poppa is his guardian angel. The bond between those two is so strong, it knows no bounds and seems to transcend this life.

My son was actually with me on the cruise when Bruce and I met. He was the world’s best chaperone on that trip. At one point when he saw Bruce holding my hand, he commented, “A little cheeky, don’t you think?” Cheeky?? What 17 year old says “cheeky?” (It took everything in me not to laugh out loud.)

Within a short time though, my son let his guard down and stopped trying to “protect” his mom. Soon after, he and Bruce had built a solid relationship. This relationship was such a blessing for my son. For the first time, he had the experience of a healthy, male role model and friend… a man to show him “how to be a man”… a man to show him “how to treat a lady”… all things I could never do.

From the beginning, Bruce was willing to do whatever was needed to move our family forward… anything from teaching teenagers to drive and helping with homework to offering unconditional love and acceptance as they tried to figure out how they each fit into this world. It was an amazing experience! How could a woman not love a man who loves her children so completely?

And what did we give to Bruce in return? A family… a BIG family… and all the love and craziness that comes with that. : )

That was my husband… That was the man who became my children’s father… That was the man we lost… and grieve… and still miss. So as another Father’s Day comes and goes, I will tell you what I have told Bruce every year…

“Thank you, Babe, for being a Dad to my kids… being a Dad is so much more than biology… It is a life-long commitment. Thank you for stepping into their lives and showing them what a healthy man and a healthy marriage looks like. Thank you for loving us all unconditionally – no judgement, no preconceived expectations – nothing but love. You were the missing piece in our family. In our short time together you taught us so much and brought healing where we did not think it was possible. You forever changed our lives. I have told you every day and I will say it again, ‘You are my hero and I will love you forever!'”

Holidays are hard when someone we love is gone. Perhaps you have a memory or story of your loved one that you would like to share with our community. Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving 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… Where are the dreams now?

Reality
I know that you’re not coming back.
I know that even though I wish it weren’t true,
you are gone.
I know…
But it is a bitter pill to swallow.
~ Linda, March 20, 2015

This week’s blog is an extension of last week’s… but then again, that only makes sense since that is the way of time.

Last week I talked about Bruce’s birthday and the dream we had of retiring when he turned 55… This would have been that year. It was supposed to be our time… our dream. But life doesn’t always happen the way you plan it.

I had to go back to work on Tuesday, just like any other day. I woke up, I wrote in my journal, I did my meditation and I worked out. Then I got dressed and drove to work just like any other day… But it wasn’t any other day. It was the day that marked the end of a dream. I walked through the doors at work, greeted the security guard, unlocked my office door and sat down to my computer. However, everything in me was screaming, “NO!!” This wasn’t how it was supposed to be… I wasn’t supposed to be there. This was not what we had planned.

When we met, Bruce and I shared a dream. (I believe it was a part of our initial attraction.) We both wanted to retire on a boat and sail the Caribbean. I used to laugh and tell him that he could be my “cabin boy.” He would laugh right back and tell me that he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his days. I loved that! He didn’t care if I was the “Captain” – he just wanted to be together. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that?!

We spent many weekends looking at yachts – deciding what we wanted and what we didn’t. He used to laugh that we would need an entire separate boat just for my shoes… He was probably right! : )

He was such a thinker… always coming up with ideas for growing a garden on board, a “boat” solar-powered treadmill for me to have a place to run and any other way to make it uniquely “ours.” He spent hours studying ports and pirates, customs and currents. In other words, he got serious about how to actually make our dream come to life. Our dream was real for both of us, and I didn’t doubt that we would really do it one day.

When we bought our current home, I did worry just a little bit. In fact, I questioned Bruce if our dream was just that… a dream. After all, now we had a house and all the responsibilities that go with it. He just smiled and told me that dreams always have a way of coming true… after all – we had found each other.

Then one night… in a breath… in one moment of time, he was gone, I was alone, and our dream was no longer.

I knew it. Over time, I thought I had accepted it. I certainly understood it. I have done the figures and calculations… I know how much longer I need to work before I can retire. (That time-line changes when there is only one person to contribute to the budget.) Logically, I got it… I was aware of the reality of my situation. My world was real and our dreams were gone.

But how does one live – I mean REALLY live – without a dream? Is that living? That is where I found myself on Tuesday. Walking through the motions of my life and realizing that without a dream, what was the purpose? What was the point?

Bruce is gone. He isn’t coming back no matter how much I wish for it. Our dreams are gone too… but my life isn’t over. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days just going through the motions. I want a life with purpose. So while I have spent the remainder of this week mourning the loss of Bruce AND our dreams, I have also come to realize that I must look deep inside myself and find a new dream… a new purpose.

This week has been hard. I have smiled in public and pretended that all was well. However, on the inside, I have been lost… totally and completely lost. I hear this is normal… all couples share dreams and when one is gone, the dreams are gone. It is up to each of us to determine how to keep going.

I’m not sure exactly what my next dream will be but I have the glimmer of an idea that makes me smile. That alone leads me to believe I am on the right path. Life has a way of opening and closing doors, so for now, I will follow my heart, go where life leads me… and pray for the courage to keep moving forward.

I share my thoughts this week praying that if someone else is feeling the same way, they will realize that it is never too late to dream… And dreams are what give our lives purpose.

The Promise
A bird hops through the grass.
A grapevine gently bounces in the breeze.
The raindrops left on the grass from last night’s rain
sparkle in the morning sun.
The ants are already busy scrambling to and fro.
It is a new day;
Full of promise.
Let me open my heart and see the beauty that surrounds me.
Let me accept the promise of today
and hold it to my heart
so I can live each moment as it comes.
~ Linda, September 29, 2014

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… How to “get over it”

So Tired

Sometimes I am so tired of thinking;
I keep my thoughts busy to avoid thinking of you.
But that is exhausting…
Will I ever be able to rest;
To just sit … and not spiral down?
I am so tired… so very tired.
~ Linda, March 13, 2015

Do you remember as a kid thinking that when you grew up, you would get to do things your way? No more doing what everyone else told you to do. You would be free! Then what happened? Exactly – you grew up and learned right away that you were wrong… absolutely and completely wrong. Well, grief is like that, too. Before it happens, you think you know what it will be like and how it should be handled. Then… horribly, you learn how very wrong you were. Grief is NOTHING like the world portrays it to be.

When Bruce passed, people were surprised to find me returning to work after 2 weeks. I don’t know if that is strange or not… it was what I needed to do. After 1.5 weeks, I found myself alone and overwhelmed with emotions. I knew enough about myself to know that being alone was not going to be good for me. It was way too quiet. I was sitting at home, staring at the four walls, and all I could think about was Bruce and everything that was now gone. I felt myself spiraling further and further down each day. I knew I needed to be around people. I needed to go back to work. Why work? I needed to go somewhere each day that had not involved Bruce. I needed something in my life that was familiar and not filled with grief – something “normal”… not the “new normal” that everyone kept calling this life without Bruce.

My office is an hour away from our home plus there is very tight security there, so one gets in who doesn’t belong there. That meant, work was a place that held absolutely NO memories of Bruce… he had never been there. I needed that space… at least for a small part of the day. I needed this space that was not filled with grief. Staying busy seemed like a good idea. However, I soon found that I needed to deal with the emotions and grief – I couldn’t ignore them forever. So, I also joined a grief therapy group. I wanted to “get better”… I wanted to “get over it.” You see, I was still under the common assumption, that there are “stages of grief.” Therefore, I just needed to work my way through them and get on with life.

However, there were a few things wrong with this notion. First, those “stages” are actually the stages of dying… while people grieving DO experience a lot of those same emotions, they don’t necessarily fall in any type of order. And many times, they circle back and repeat themselves… over and over. I would find myself thinking I was past a stage only to find myself right back in the same spot weeks later. As I have said before, grief is maddening. It is chaos; there is no rhyme or reason. I soon came to realize that it cannot be handled by a checklist of stages. Since I am a checklist kind of person THAT was hard to accept. Everything I thought I knew about grief was wrong.

Since my experience with grief was not anything like I thought it should be, I began to think there was something wrong with me. Because some of the people around me had the same or similar ideas about grief, they unwittingly reinforced the idea that I must be doing something wrong… why couldn’t I just “close the door on that chapter of my life and move on?”

Thankfully, I also have other people in my life who knew better. They are the reason I am still here… I could not have come this far without them. They were friends. They were co-workers. They were family members… there were even a few strangers in the mix. But more than anything, they were my life-line. They listened. They gave hugs. They held me when I cried, and they were honest about what this grief journey would be like. I needed that… I still do.

I have learned so much about grief in the last two years. In fact, EVERYTHING I thought I knew was wrong. Since it is the purpose of this blog, I’d like to share a little bit of what I have learned.

First and foremost,
1. No two people will have the same experience.
2. Don’t try to compare your grief journey with anyone else’s. (For questions – see #1.)
3. There is no specific amount of time allowed for grief. (For questions – see #1.)
4. Be kind to yourself. Do what you need to do for YOU – not what everyone is telling you to do. (For questions – see #1.)
5. There is no right or wrong way to do this. (For questions – see #1 – 4.)

Despite the intended humor above, I AM trying to make a point. The point is:
No one knows what you need except you. So do THAT… do what you need to do.

I am well aware that there are still people quick to judge and voice an opinion on how I choose to move through this process. For those people, I have to make a choice. I can either:
1. Accept their opinions with a smile (but still ignore it).
2. Make the attempt to help them understand, OR
3. Let them go… This is especially difficult because you are already dealing with loss and who in their right mind would want to deal with more loss? (However, if it reaches unhealthy levels, letting go may be necessary.)

Only you can decide which choice is best… and it will be a different choice with different people.

Once I finally understood all this my question became, “Okay, I am doing all of that… now how much longer? At what point will I get over this? When will this stop?” I hated the answer when I heard it, but deep down I already knew it.

The answer is never… at least not entirely. There is no “getting over it.” That is a terrible myth that creates a lot of unnecessary pain. Try to understand – there is not a switch that can be turned on or off. (Don’t we wish it were that easy?) My understanding from those who are ahead of me on this journey is that as time passes, you learn to live with it… You learn to function around it. It will shape your life in new ways, but ultimately, it will always be a part of who you are.

For a “checklist” person like me, THAT has been a bitter pill to swallow. But experience is teaching me that it is true. I am learning to “dance” with my grief, if you will… to accept what it brings day to day (good or bad) and work through it. I am learning what works well for me and what will pull me down. But the biggest thing I am learning is that I AM moving forward, even if it is baby steps.

This may not be the answer you were looking for when you read the title, but it is the honest answer. There are no empty promises here – only the acceptance of where each person is on this path.

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.

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

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