precious memories – Page 2 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief… I Speak Your Name

“So long as they speak your name, you shall never die.” ~ Dan Brown

If you were paying attention, you may have noticed there was no blog from me last week. Instead, I was at the beach with Bruce’s sisters. It was our annual trip – a tradition started years ago… before I ever even came into the picture. However, once I was in the picture (and ever since), I have been included.

The first year, I was quite apprehensive about going. My previous in-laws made no bones about how they felt about me from the very beginning. Suffice it to say, I was always the outsider. So, the idea of spending a week with new sisters whom I barely knew scared me to death.

In fact, it’s funny now, but that first year, I was so scared that Bruce ended up flying into the same town too, and stayed at a hotel across town, just in case. He knew I wouldn’t need him, but I didn’t. All I knew was that I was so apprehensive about the whole thing, I needed that added security of a “just in case”. (He teased me about it for years, but I didn’t mind. His willingness to be my “just in case” only made me love him that much more.)

Times have changed, though. Now (for me, at least), this annual trip is a chance to spend some very special time with the family he grew up in. It is very much a safe place where I am not an outsider. Instead, I am family (and all that entails). From my perspective, one of the best parts of the week is that his name comes up in conversation a lot… and not just from me. His sisters talk about him as much as I do. I think we all need it… After all, they shared a life with him, too… They have so many memories with him growing up and throughout their adulthood.

It is so nice to know I can talk (and/or cry) about anything “Bruce” without worrying about being a “Debbie-downer” or ruining someone else’s day or vacation. I love it!

They have stories about the Bruce they grew up with – the boy, the teenager, the young adult, the brand-new dad… All the things that were pre-me. It is a side of Bruce I never knew, but each year I get to know that part of him a little bit better. In return, I get to share stories of our quiet conversations, a great husband, an adventurer, and so many other parts of him that they never had the chance to know.

And all of that is important…

Years ago, when I started this blog, one of the things I kept saying was, “As long as there is a breath left in my body, I will speak your name… I won’t let you be forgotten.” … That is still true… And a whole week of sharing Bruce-isms and memories has made my heart sing…

I love you, Babe… And I promise, I will always speak your name – not just because I won’t forget you, but because I can’t forget you.
______________
This journey isn’t easy… not that you need me to tell you that. Loss is hard, and the grief we are left to figure out is even harder. Thankfully, though, there are moments where our souls can be refreshed – Moments where I learn a little bit more about life, faith, and love.

As the years pass, I can honestly say that there are more of these good moments than bad. Each day, I continue to learn more and more about those things that seem to help me heal and move forward – like sharing precious memories. So, I will continue to allow myself the space I need to heal and process this life without my love… without Bruce. Thankfully, at this point in my journey, I am learning that I am not alone – thanks to you!

In fact, none of us need to be alone, because we have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing and helps us to process that avalanche of emotions that grief brings us. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

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Peace, Love, and Grief… Dreaming in Reverse

“Grieving is dreaming in reverse… But when you are grieving over something or someone that was taken away, you wish you could go back in time. You dream in reverse.” ~ Lysa Terkeurst, Forgiving What You Can’t Forget

I ran across this quote this week in a book I am reading, and the truth of it seemed to almost slap me in the face. This is how I feel every single day… every single moment. I would give almost anything for things to be different… For Bruce to still be here. For this Sunday afternoon to be spent laying on the beach next to him, pinkies entwined, instead of sitting here writing about grief.

At the same, every time I think of Bruce and any of my precious memories of our time together, I smile. Why? Because I am dreaming in reverse. Because those are the memories that captured our love for each even in the most simple of moments. My grandmother always referred to these as “precious memories.” I also adopted that term not too many years ago, because that is exactly what they are – precious memories.

“Instead of hoping for what will one day be, you long for a more innocent time when you lived more unaware of tragedy. But the griever knows they can’t go back in time. So healing feels impossible, because circumstances feel unchangeable.” ~ Lysa Terkeurst, Forgiving What You Can’t Forget

Healing does feel impossible at times – mainly because of a couple of things…

First of all, after the loss of someone you love so much, it is hard to know which way is forward. You know the expectation is to “heal,” but how does that happen when it hurts so badly. How do you move through each day? How do you learn to smile again or to laugh? How do you fill the time the two of you used to share at the end of the day or on your days off?

Sometimes people are quick to give advice on how to do these things, but they have no idea how the actual application works. It would be like telling a baby to just get up and walk, then not understanding why they don’t. As if it were that simple… As if there is not a process – a building of strength, balance, and confidence – before that baby can even attempt that first step.

It is the same with grief. We want to feel how we did before we lost this person we love, but that is no longer possible. So, then we have to try to figure out what this journey is supposed to be like, and how we are supposed to feel and function. We also have to build our strength, our balance, and our confidence before we can even attempt to move forward – wherever that is.

I don’t know how to explain it, but “dreaming in reverse” can sometimes be the way we do those things. We have to be careful not to get “stuck” looking back, but still… Those memories often times hold the clues we need to move forward… I guess it is somehow linked to remembering the love we had for each other and learning to love ourselves that same way – with that same abandon and sense of adventure.

The second reason I have found for struggling to heal in the wake of loss is a fear of forgetting this person we (still) love so very much. It can be terrifying to think that we might forget who they were, what they sounded like, how it felt to be with them, and all the things that made them “our person.” For example, in my case, I have pictures of Bruce. (Although I wish there were more.) I treasure these moments caught in time, mainly because that is all I have left. I also have three videos of him – three… that’s it. And he only talks in one of them… He is playing with our grandson and says one word – “Almost”. That’s it… That’s all I have… one word… and it leaves me terrified of forgetting his voice.

So how do you heal, (or as some people say, “move on”), when you are trying so hard to hang on and not forget? I don’t know what to tell you except that the whole “dreaming in reverse seems to help… All of those precious memories seem to bring me comfort… This is the space where I do remember… where I know Bruce and our love for each other still lives on.

So, if you ever read this and wonder how I can still be here writing about grief nine years later, here’s why… Bottom line – it’s hard… This whole grief thing is just plain hard… And no one has the answer on how to heal or move forward, because there isn’t a “one-size-fits-all” answer… Which means each of us has to figure out our own path… Talk about hard… talk about rough… talk about feeling overwhelming and impossible at times.

So yes… These are some of the reasons we constantly find ourselves “dreaming in reverse”.

This grief thing really is hard, and honestly, while I have learned a lot, I still hate it. There are more good days than there used to be, but I still constantly find myself wishing for the past. Grief has changed me in ways I could never have prepared for, and in ways no one else might understand. Life on this path is sometimes filled with challenges I never imagined. And each time I think I have it figured out, something happens, and I find I haven’t figured it out at all.

However, finding ways to stay grounded and remembering how blessed I am to have known Bruce’s love (even for a short time) has been my path to survival and healing. At this point in my journey, I am learning that while I remember the past, I must also keep looking at this life before me and recognizing the joy, love, and hope it still holds… Then, learning to hold onto that with everything I have.

Thanks to you, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love and Grief… And Just Like That, It’s Halloween Again

I can’t believe it is already Halloween… again! My goodness! Where does the time go? Throughout my life – while growing up, when my children were little, and while Bruce was alive, Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. However, the season always seemed to start WAY before December… In a way, Halloween has always marked the beginning of an entire season of fun – A time filled with holidays and big events with Christmas being the climax.

To this day, I am so very thankful for the last holiday season that Bruce and I shared. The memories from that year are so very precious now. Although at the time, it just seemed like another holiday season. With Halloween falling this weekend, I am reminded again, just how precious our time with our loved ones really is…

Until Bruce died, I never really thought of Halloween as a holiday with special memories, but I was wrong… As I look back, over the years I can find so many small things that still make me smile….

For example, when we lived in Michigan, there were no Trick or Treaters. We lived in a second-floor condo which required a code for entrance. There were no children in the building except my (then) teenage daughter and no way for anyone to enter. So, no one knocked on our door yelling, “Trick or Treat.” We didn’t buy candy, and other than the shenanigans at work, it was just another day.

Then when we moved to Florida, we decided to live in an apartment for the first year until we got our bearings. With the exception of my (then) toddler grandson dressed as a pirate and one group of teenagers (who knocked on our door at 10 PM) no one came. Again, other than the shenanigans at work, it was pretty much just another day.

Then, we moved to the house where I live now…

I knew there were a lot of children in the neighborhood, so I bought three of those huge bags of candy and tried to prep Bruce for what was probably coming. For him, it had been well over a decade since he had answered a door on Halloween to pass out candy. At the time, though, all he heard was “candy.” As soon as he realized I had hidden it somewhere in the house, it was “game on”… He went on a hunt despite my saying that it was for Halloween – not him.

I will always remember the Cheshire Cat grin on his face as he walked back into the kitchen with a handful of chocolate. He had found the entire stash in the third place he looked. I couldn’t figure out how in the world he had found it so flippin’ fast! According to him, the fact that I am so short narrowed the hiding places down by more than half. Then, he just thought of where there might be enough space for three huge bags… All I can tell you is that by Halloween, I had to replace more than one of those silly bags.

On Halloween, he grouched every time the doorbell rang, and I laughed and poked fun at him for being a crabby, old man… The next year, our last Halloween together, was different, though. He was actually excited about the night and loved answering the door. I stood back and watched him as he talked to all the kids (even the teenagers). He even found a mask he had bought years before and tried to scare a few poor souls. It was such a fun night, and we both fell into bed laughing at the end of it.

Now looking back, I don’t know if he was just trying to enjoy Halloween or if he knew what was coming and wanted to leave me with some fun memories… Either way, that night warms my heart.

The next year was my first year without Bruce quickly, and the day became a challenge that I wasn’t expecting. To my mind, Halloween is a kid’s holiday. It really isn’t about adults or family memories… And to be honest, we had only had one really fun Halloween together. However, that first year showed me that Halloween would come to mark the start of what is generally a few rough months for me emotionally…

Journal: 10/31/2013
(morning)
“The first of the holidays – this one always feels like the “kick-off” for the holiday season. I don’t really feel like celebrating but I did buy candy. I woke up this morning, and I just feel pissed. I don’t think this will be a good day… not really looking forward to it – don’t really feel like festivities or anything like it.“

(night)
“Halloween without you, Babe! Too hard!! I miss you!! I keep thinking about you answering the door last year and all the fun. This year is hard, though. I am listening to Jimmy Buffet and wishing you were here… Six kids so far and I am crying. Maybe I should just turn out the light and call it a night.
So sad… just so very sad… What is – is. Nothing I do will ever change it. I feel like I shouldn’t be here, but I am… maybe one day I will understand why I am still here.”

Then, years later, I spent Halloween with my daughter and grandson.

Journal: 11/1/2015
“Hi Babe… This weekend was really good for me. I couldn’t be with you, but I was with people I love. I’m sure you would guess that we stayed very busy. You would have loved watching our grandson… he is more excited about his costume and handing out the candy, than actually going door to door to get any (which just cracks me up.) Afterward, there was an impromptu party back at the house. It was wonderful chaos – the house was filled with very tired but laughing adults and kids too excited to settle down.
Saturday included an Octoberfest at their school/church. You would have loved it – German food and beer. I only teared up once… when the kids performed their Fall music program. I know you were there… I know you were watching… but I still wish I could have seen your face. You and your little “Beaudroux” had such a close connection, I know you would have been beaming with pride.
The night ended with a dinner party at a friend’s house. It was fun, and they made me feel so welcome. I can’t say I like it, but I am getting (more) used to going to parties without you by my side…
It wasn’t until the wee, dark hours of the night when I was actually alone with my thoughts that the tears fell. My emotions were a little bit of melancholy, sadness, loneliness and (believe it or not)… guilt. I miss you, Babe. I still managed to have fun but then I feel guilty about that. Crazy, I know, but that is what I felt. I wonder if that is normal?“

Through the years, I have gotten stronger. While these next few months are still difficult ones for me, I have definitely gotten better at taking it one day… one moment at a time. I am better at enjoying the time with friends and family and cherishing the memories we are making together. I have also learned to give myself some grace… I have learned that it’s okay to feel what I feel… It’s okay to grieve the fact that my heart is broken because Bruce isn’t here to share any part of this anymore.

How we handle the big days can vary year to year, moment to moment. Sometimes we manage these better than other times… We’re only human, and this is a tough journey. What about you? How do you manage your big days? This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all. Honestly, none of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, (one holiday to the next), when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone. We are here for each other and, it is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Contemplations

I have good friends.
I have good family.
I am in a good place.
So, why does it still hurt so bad?
~ Linda, 2021

Hi Babe,
It’s odd how life just continues to plug along… Some days it feels like only yesterday you were here, and other days it feels as if I have been alone and missing you forever. This is that time of year that gets hard for me… all the holidays plus so many of our special days… Sometimes I just sit here in the quiet… waiting… listening… wishing I could hear your voice just one more time… But I don’t… All I hear is the never ending quiet. A quiet that at times brings me comfort and at other times threatens to swallow me.

I love looking around and finding odds and ends that remind me of you. Sometimes it is a little memento of a special time we had together, such as a shell picked up while diving on our honeymoon. Or maybe just seeing your tools still in the garage… waiting. (You would be proud. I’ve learned how to use a lot of them.) Then, there are your books – books on fishing and sailing, books on health and working out, books on travel, and books on philosophy. Many of them I have read by now, and the others just make me smile because they are so completely “you”. Somedays I just love picking up a photo album, curling up on the couch, and thumbing through… remembering the days and moments caught on film – how absolutely precious these are to me now.

I miss you so much, and I don’t know if I will ever get used to living in this world without you… Which is kind of strange, since we didn’t even have that much time together… only eight short years. The thing is you changed my world so much…

Before you, I can remember crying and wondering if I would ever know what it was like to be loved… really loved… There was so much hurt and pain left by my first marriage. I had been convinced (by him) that I wasn’t worth loving. But then you came along, and suddenly I was loved – totally and completely! Everything I had ever imagined or wished for came true with you… I knew it was rare… I knew it was a precious gift… What I didn’t know was just how short our time together would be… That has probably been the hardest part to accept – our life together had practically just started, and just as suddenly, it was over.

Sigh… (It’s times like this that I have to remind myself to breathe.)

I miss you, Babe… More than you could ever know. And I love you… I will always love you – Always and forever!

I miss you.
I think of you and my heart warms.
So then,
How do I face tomorrow?
How do I face another day without you?
My heart was broken into a thousand pieces when you left.
How am I to pick it up and move forward?
I still don’t know…
~ Linda, 2021

I say this every week, because I believe it is important… this is not an easy path for any of us. It is not a path I ever saw myself on, and you probably didn’t either. I don’t think any of us wants to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all. Honestly, none of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Sometimes It’s Still Hard to Believe

“We have been and always will be a part of each other.” ~ John Denver

This week, one of my daughters sent me some pictures of Bruce and I from a cruise we had all taken together. I recognized the trip immediately… As all of the fun and revelry of that week came back to me, a smile spread over my face.

What precious memories!

I remember sitting in the lounge chairs on deck, just reading and sipping drinks as we relaxed on that first afternoon. I remember dinners filled with laughter and silliness. I remember the “Bathrobe Party” on deck one night and doing shots at Senior Frogs in Mexico. I remember ziplining through the rainforest in Belize and touring the Mayan ruins. I remember going from one fun adventure to the next – hand in hand with the love of my life – enjoying every step along the way.

I remember all of it! Every fun, crazy, wonderful moment!

I actually even remember most of the pictures we took on that trip. I had seen them at some point before this week, but it has been years.

“Do you have a copy of these?” she texted.

“I do now,” I replied with a smiley face.

As I sat there staring at the screen – smiling and remembering that week, I also felt the tears start to slide down my cheek. Kind of like when it rains, and the sun is shining at the same time. It was one of those bittersweet, weird moments when my emotions are all over the place.

It seems like it is in those moments that I find myself sitting there, trying to comprehend all over again that he is really gone… Like forever, really gone.

It probably sounds silly, but there are times when is still hard to comprehend. I think there is this part of me that will always feel like he is still coming home. That this reality is actually, somehow temporary… Then, it hits me all over again… I am reminded that he will never have another birthday or watch another sunset. I will never again see him smile or hear him whisper that he loves me. We will never again snuggle on the couch or sit on the beach holding hands… ever… all of that is forever gone.

Those are the moments that catch me by surprise… Those are the moments where it is still hard to believe he is truly gone…

Forever…

Gone.

Then… I took a breath, and I looked at those pictures again. And at that point, I was reminded of something else… As surely as there is breath in my lungs, I know that as long as I (or anyone who loved him) remembers Bruce, he will always live on. He will always be a part of our world… and a part of my heart.

This journey is an odd one isn’t it? We never know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when something will remind us of our loved ones. We never know when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger. That can sometimes make this journey feel even more lonely. Yet, there are other times when I know I am not alone at all. We are here for each other. This journey holds both challenges and peace-filled moments for each of us. Yet, it is actually our love for those we have lost that brings us together to this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Dancing in the Kitchen

Earlier this week, something popped into my Face Book feed – access to watch a live Jimmy Buffet concert via YouTube. (Thank you, Jimmy, and thank you, YouTube!) It never fails… If Jimmy Buffet is playing, I’m dancing… And in my soul, Bruce is there dancing with me… And my soul is completely at peace.

I know many times I’ve talked about the two of us dancing in the kitchen. I’ve also talked about meeting on a sailing schooner in the islands… But I’m not sure I’ve ever explained how they go together or why dancing in the kitchen holds such precious memories for me. It’s not a long story, but it’s the one I want to share today… Partly because it is a sweet story, but mostly because it has been on my mind all week, creating smiles throughout a week that has felt like chaos.

Yes, it all started on that 100-year-old sailing schooner where we boarded at a port in St. Thomas. I’ve already talked about how we met, so I won’t repeat that part. I want to jump ahead to the middle of the week…

Every night around 5 PM, one of two things happened. Either we were sailing for the next island so there was a party on the main deck with rum punch served liberally, or we were at another port and the entire ship (crew and passengers) all went ashore to enjoy the local night life. Either way, Bruce and I always managed to be together – dancing the night away. I love to dance… I have loved it my entire life. The problem is every else doesn’t always feel that way. (My first husband had a lot of energy – yes, but dancing was not his thing… So, we didn’t.)

So, here I was on my first trip as a single woman, and here was this man who was fun to be with, made me feel like I was the only woman in the world who mattered, made me laugh, and who danced every dance with me the entire cruise. I remember being on St. Johns at a bar called, Duffy’s. It was nothing more than a shack, and it was packed. At one point, the captain came over and asked to cut in and Bruce said, “No.” No explanation or second glance… just a “no” before he guided me to another part of the dance floor. I giggled. The captain was nice, but I wanted to dance with Bruce.

Later that same night, in that same bar, Bruce looked me in the eye, leaned over, and kissed me for the first time. Then he said, “You are the most incredible lady.” (I’m pretty sure I melted.) Later he laughed when he told me, he half expected me to slap him for “stealing” a kiss. I remember laughing and telling him that he didn’t “steal” anything… That kiss… That moment in time is forever etched in my heart.

***Dancing the night away onboard the Legacy***

Now let’s jump forward a year… same cruise, same time of year, same islands, same opportunities to dance. The only difference was we were now married, and this was our honeymoon. I was so excited with the anticipation of reliving that fabulous cruise from the year before. Bruce, however, had a different vision. We still went to the deck parties and the bars on the islands, but he wouldn’t dance. Every time I suggested we dance; he would just shake his head. I was so frustrated. I didn’t understand what had happened…

By the second night, I was beside myself. As we crawled in bed and turned out the lights, I let the tears come. Bruce pulled me into his arms and asked what was wrong. So, I told him… Last year, we had danced and danced, but now, on our honeymoon, he hadn’t danced with me even once, and I didn’t understand. I remember, Bruce looked genuinely confused. He looked me in the eye and said, “But now I know you love me. I’ve already won the prize. Why do I need to dance this year?”

He was completely serious, and I was completely caught off guard. So, I responded with the first thing that came to my heart, “Because I need to know you still love me.” Bruce didn’t say a word, he just held me close.

The next day, though, things changed. We didn’t dance every dance, but we did dance a lot… and each time he would lean in and whisper, “I love you.”

“I know,” I would respond with a grin.

But that isn’t the end… Once we were home, that is when the “kitchen dancing” started. We might be cooking dinner together, or in a heated discussion, or I might have just walked in the door from work. Next thing I know, he would turn on some Jimmy Buffet, pull me close, and we would dance… “I love you,” he would always whisper in my ear… And I knew he did.

This was us… This is one of my precious memories that brings peace to my soul… Thank you for the opportunity to share my story with you today. I know that sometimes this journey can feel so lonely. Yet, there are other times when I know I am not alone at all. We are here for each other. While this journey holds its own challenges and peace-filled moments for each of us, it is our love for those we have lost that brings us together to this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Telling Our Story

“You have to tell your story, so people are aware and see the value you know to be real.”
~ Unknown

When Bruce was alive, we wrote a lot of notes, letters, and cards back and forth to each other. At least once a month he would turn to me and tell me that I should write our story… And that he couldn’t wait to read it. I used to smile, but I never took him seriously. All my life, I had been told I wasn’t much of a writer. Shoot, I had never even kept a journal… Yet, he was persistent and never gave up – suggesting it over and over.

“On my silent days, I miss you a little louder.” ~ C.C. Aurel

Then, he died, and my world went black. I don’t just mean dark… I mean black… Black like being in a cave when there are no lights… Black like not being able to see your hand in front of your face…. Black as in I had no idea how to move forward… I wasn’t even sure I could still breathe. In fact, I’m not sure I did for the first few weeks. I was raw. I was numb. I was in total shock.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t look at your picture and smile.
Or cry.
Or both.”
~ Dean Jackson

Sometime in that first month, my mom suggested that I keep a journal… Just a place to write down all my thoughts and emotions and get them out… A place to let it all go… A safe space to release everything inside that I couldn’t seem to untangle in my own mind.

That’s how it started… I just wrote…

Some of it was coherent, and some of it wasn’t. Some of it was sad, and some of it was very angry. I wrote things I wouldn’t (or couldn’t) tell anyone (and probably still wouldn’t). Sometimes I go back and read a page or two of those early journals, but I can only manage a page or two… The pain on those pages is more than I can bear to think about (even now) … But it is a good reminder of just how far I have come since then.

“Some days I just sit and remember.” ~ Unknown

After many months, my journal became a place to share the things I was discovering about myself and/or my faith. It was also a place where I listed the things I was grateful for each day. Some days I was thankful for so many things, and other days, I might have just been thankful for being able to get out of bed to face another day. (That exercise became a great way to pull myself back out of a pity-party before I fell too far down into the deeper depression of grief.)

“Suddenly, she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past, but the lost future, not what had not been, but what would never be.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

I’m not sure when it became a place to write daily letters to Bruce, but somewhere in that first year, that is exactly what happened. It was like a “Dear Diary”, only instead it was a “Hey Babe”. I knew he would never see them, but somehow it made me feel better to write it that way… I still do. Sometimes I share my day. Other times, I share my emotions or something I have learned. Sometimes I share a poem I read (or wrote) or sometimes it is a quote or a verse that touches my heart… Whatever is rattling around in my brain is what flows from my pen.

It helps… a lot… I think it has become my best (and cheapest) therapy yet!

A couple of years after Bruce died, a childhood friend came into town for a visit. I wish I could say it was a great visit, but honestly, it just wasn’t. However, I believe one good thing did come of it… This friend suggested I start a blog about grief – some place to share my and Bruce’s story… some place to share my experiences and feelings with other widows… Some place to let them (and me) know that none of us are alone. Our feelings and thoughts are normal (if there even is such a thing) for our situation.

Over the years, I have told my and Bruce’s story many times. I have also written about my fears, my joys, my frustrations, and my celebrations. This has been the space where I have chosen to share things I haven’t said in any other space. Why? Because this has become my safe space… A space I share with the people who understand where I am and how I got here. People who understand that while grief can make somethings clearer, it can just as easily skew our thinking… And they don’t judge me for it.

Thank you! Thank you for allowing me this privilege to share not only my thoughts but our story – mine… and Bruce’s… A story that has value for me… I know he may never get to read it, but I hope somewhere… somehow… he knows I have written it… I am still writing it… Just like he suggested so many years ago.

“I have to let go of having you by my side. Holding your hand, talking face to face. But I will never let go of loving you, remembering you, honoring you and missing you.” ~ Unknown

I miss Bruce, and I love telling his stories. He changed my world and continues to do so… even now. I know, it can be easy to feel like this journey is nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. Yet, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. Sharing our stories is important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you, and 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… The Holidays

As the holidays draw closer and closer… I find myself in a quandary trying to figure out how to take the next step…

“Hey Babe!
Such a week! The holidays can be so much fun… and yet, still so hard… like an emotional roller coaster. Some days, I literally bask in all the family, holiday craziness. It is so fun to share this season with the people I love and to see Christmas through the eyes of my grandson, who is finally old enough to recognize our family traditions and truly help (not “help”) with the decorations. I love it! It makes my heart so joyful!

We have Christmas music playing from the minute we wake up until we finally go to bed at night. And even though I am no longer able to sing (vocal cord damage from the cancer treatments years ago), I still try to hum along as best I can. We haven’t managed to get the tree up yet, but we will… Besides, the family time has been the best!

Then, the next thing you know, it happens. I find myself thinking about you, Babe… and that first Christmas… I remember decorating the condo while you were at work. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait for you to come home… But when you walked in, you literally stopped in your tracks and just stared. No words… no expression on your face.

“Oh no!” I thought. “I’ve ‘messed up’” …. I was so scared you hated it! But then, you got the biggest grin! I remember you hugging me so tight and saying something like, “This absolutely feels like Christmas! I think these are the best Christmas decorations I have ever seen. Thank you! Thank you for bringing the joy of Christmas back into my world!”

… At this point, I cry… I cry because now my joy is gone…

Then, I look around at our current situation and think, “You would love this! You would be so excited to watch our grandson and share all that this season has to offer with this precious boy.”

And if I am going to be honest (which I am), there also have been a few times this week when I have been angry… very angry… I am almost ashamed to admit it, but sometimes I am so mad at you, Babe. You died too soon! And you left me here… alone… And honestly… that pisses me off sometimes! My heart breaks! You were too young! It was too soon! We didn’t have enough time! … And sometimes, I don’t think I will ever get used to this.

Life without you is hard… And the holidays without you is even harder. I don’t know why it was decided that this was our path. It still feels so wrong… Our love was so complete, and our time was too short. So many nights this week have ended with me sitting in the middle of our room – crying and wondering why... And knowing there will never be an answer to that question.

But… life goes on… This season still has a few more weeks. I know there will be more triggers, more memories, and more emotions. That means there will be more joy… and more tears. But for now, I will try to feel you next to me… experiencing all these precious moments with us.

I miss you, Babe, and I love you… Always and forever!”

If you’re like me and missing someone this Christmas, this song is dedicated to you…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0yFXfAGl17M&list=RDQMD96WatA2lck&ab_channel=ThePianoGuys

This can be a hard, confusing, emotional season when you are experiencing deep grief. Grief changes how we look at life and the world around us. It changes how we experience the holidays. This can make it hard to celebrate and even harder to be joyful. Yet, it is in remembering and finding those blessings that we are able to celebrate at all. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What changes have you had to navigate on this journey? How do you manage those? We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

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

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Peace, Love and Grief… Do You Remember?

This weekend is a bit tough for me between special days, precious memories and a holiday. I hope you won’t mind if I simple share some of my thoughts…

Friday:
Hi Babe,
Do you remember? Do you remember when we moved into this house? It was nine years ago tomorrow. We were so excited! The first home that was ours… We picked it together and would pay for it together. You always said it was your early birthday present since your birthday is just two days later. I remember the excitement of moving in – deciding where to put each piece of furniture and hang each picture.

You and your Dad worked so hard moving all the “big stuff,” being so careful with things you both knew were precious to me. All the while, your Mom and I worked side by side unloading each box and stocking every cabinet and closet.

I replay the joy and excitement of that day over and over in my mind almost daily. You finally had your “dream come true” – a Florida home near the beach. I finally had my “dream come true” – a home for us… one that we chose together… One to live in for the rest of our days.

It took a few weeks, but we worked together unpacking boxes, hanging pictures, arranging (and rearranging) furniture, and filling cabinets and drawers. For less than two years, we basked in the glory of our “beach side” home.

Then… just like that, you were gone… And here I am – alone…

So many times, I just sit in the middle of the floor wondering where you are and why am I all alone? How, in God’s name, did it end up like this?… Me here… And you there? I can feel you all around me. Yet, I can’t see you anywhere.

I miss you so much that sometimes I can’t even breathe for wanting you so badly.

Saturday:
Hey Babe,
This has been a hard night… I’m not supposed to be here. I didn’t want to be here. I knew months ago that this would be a tough weekend. I still have Easter and your birthday to get through. I just wanted to be alone with you… at the beach.

Then, this virus hit, rentals were canceled as one way to keep people home, and so here I am… Trying to smile… Trying not to ruin anyone’s holiday… Filling baskets and hiding eggs, when all I really want is to be with you – quietly by the sea. I knew… I planned it… Yet, here I am – hiding what I feel (or trying to anyway) and smiling so I don’t ruin anyone’s holiday.

Nine years ago today, we moved into this home… our home. This is the longest I have lived anywhere in my adult life… And most of it alone. (Weird, huh?) I hate being here without you. Yet, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. Then, tomorrow is Easter.

Do you remember our last Easter? I woke up to an empty basket and thought you had forgotten me… But I should have known better. After a morning walk on the beach, I came home to a dozen roses. Then, you spent the rest of the day putting up a storm door on the front so I could have more sunshine in the house (something I had been begging for since we moved in).

You always had a way of making holidays something worth remembering… You always knew how to make me smile.

Sunday:
Hi Babe,

Well, the day is done, and it is nighttime. Everyone has gone to bed and the house is dark and quiet. This is always my time to just gather my thoughts… My time to think about the day – what has happened and what lies ahead for tomorrow.

Today was a really nice day, which is kind of surprising because it didn’t seem like it was going to be. First of all, I was kind of dreading it… Holidays can be hard and a bit tricky. I never know how it’s going to go because I miss you so. Today, I started off a bit teary and way too sensitive.

Honestly, I wanted to just sit and feel sorry for myself, but that seemed a bit silly. So, I put on a new dress and sandals, and decided I was going to make it a good day… And it was. It was quiet, but the food was good, and the company was better. It was just a nice family day. Throughout the day, I kept thinking how much you would have liked today, and it made me smile when your name was brought up and a memory shared… I guess I’m not the only one that misses you.

Tomorrow is your birthday, though… That one can be a little harder. I always want to spend the day celebrating your life – celebrating you. However, it’s not that simple… I miss you… and I still love you. So, I’m not too sure what tomorrow will hold.

When you were here, we always went to your folks’ place in Alabama to celebrate your birthday. Those were such great vacations! I miss those! I miss spending that whole week celebrating you – a week of sunshine, family, beach, and a little day drinking. We always had so much fun! It’s still hard to believe those days are done.

Tomorrow will be hard. With this “stay at home” order in place, I’m not really sure what to do to honor you… to honor your life… but I will try. I can promise you that as long as there is a breath left in my body, I will always make sure you aren’t forgotten!

I love you, Babe… and that’s forever!

Well, that’s what is going on in my world this week. If you think about it, I would really appreciate a prayer or two tomorrow, please. I know we all deal with life, loss and grief in our own ways. So, what about you? Do you ever have those times where it seems like there is too much to deal with? Where you wonder how and if you can make it through everything you are facing? If you would like to share your thoughts or 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… Even the Bad Times Weren’t So Bad

This week at our house has been just a little harder than usual…

Do you know what I mean? Do you ever have those weeks when life just seems to keep coming at you? You keep getting back up. You keep putting that smile on your face and that “can do” attitude in your heart, but life just seems relentless. There just seems to be no end to the craziness and all that needs to be done.

It’s no one’s fault, and no one is driving me crazy. It’s just life…

My daughter has been severely ill for more than a week. In order to help her out, I have been trying to cover all of her normal stuff, plus my own. (Thankfully, as I write this, she is doing much better.) Maybe you understand when I say that a few years ago known of this would have phased me. In fact, it wouldn’t have even slowed me down very much. But now-a-days, it’s a different story… I guess I’m just getting older, (and more tired). LOL!

No matter! It’s all good… And all of this got me thinking about some very precious memories…

I remember about a year after we were married, I got the flu. It was a nasty bug, and the first time either of us had been sick since we had met. Now, everyone has their own was of handling being sick, and I think we were both a little wary of how this might play out.

For example, if someone else is sick, I want to take care of them. Okay, maybe it is a little over the top… “Mothering” them, might be a better term for it. But, when I am sick, other than checking on me occasionally, I prefer to be left alone. God forbid, I am so sick I need to actually ask for anything – That is the worst… The idea of someone having to dote on me feels awkward and extremely uncomfortable.

In most ways, Bruce was similar… When he was sick, he just wanted to be left alone. Don’t dote on him and don’t “mother” him… He preferred to just muddle through whatever it was while the world went about its business. And when it came to taking care of others, he would hover in the background… only offering help when it was requested.

You can only imagine how this worked in our house… When he was sick, I tried really hard to leave him alone, but I am pretty sure I still drove him nuts. Whereas when I was sick, he didn’t mind helping, but he was very good at giving me my space to recover in my own way.

That first time with the flu is a bit of a blur for me. I had just started a new job and could not miss work unless I also wanted to lose my job. I remember going to work (fever and all) the first few days. He made no comment. He simply hugged me close, kissed my forehead and handed me a bag of meds to get me through the next 8 hours.

By the time the weekend came, all I wanted to do was sleep… And sleep, I did…

Bruce had the best couch for lounging and sleeping. (My youngest daughter owns it now, and I still love to sleep on it when I visit.) So that couch was where I camped out for the duration. My memories of that weekend are few, but believe it or not, they make me smile…

I know I slept most of the next few days, waking up to eat small bites of vanilla ice cream, nibbles of saltine crackers and sips of ginger ale. The best memories, however, were those times when I opened my eyes, and Bruce was in the recliner next to me quietly strumming his guitar. He would look over at me, smile, and ask how I was feeling. It was so beautiful and so relaxing, usually I would just smile and go right back to sleep – lulled by the soft chords he was playing.

The funny thing is I never felt like I was being a bother. I never felt like he was being intrusive. Yet, I always felt cared for… Later, I learned just how worried he really was… As it turns out, he never left my side all weekend… He sat right there beside me, but I was too sick to know.

So many times this week, I have thought about that week so long ago… Most of it lost to a blur of fever-induced sleep. Yet, those small pieces of memories I do have bring a warm feeling of being completely loved and cared for…

I know it sounds weird to say that these are some of my most precious memories… But they are, because of all the love I felt during that stretch of time. And it’s probably even more strange, but all I keep thinking about this week is how when Bruce and I were together, even the bad times weren’t so bad.

How about you? Do you remember any bad times that only proved to strengthen your love? Do you understand what I mean? 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