widow – Page 2 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Moving Forward

Last week I wrote about focus. I wrote about how being more aware (mindful) of what I am focused on throughout the day has made a huge difference for me on this path I am on. Then, this week, a couple of questions popped up in something I was reading…

• What does moving forward mean to you in the context of your grief?
• What small steps can you take right now?

This felt like an extension of what I was talking about last week, but it also prompted me to look a little bit closer look at how I work on my focus throughout the day and week. I don’t know about you, but when someone suggests that I try something I have never tried before (or never been successful at if I did try), I need some ideas on the how-to part of the advice… And as a list person, step-by-step directions for implementation are a must.

That being said, I have a few things that I do, but for today, I thought I would share two of those ideas – not so many to be overwhelming but at least there are options… And hopefully, one of these will be beneficial for someone else, as well.

Before I go into any detail, let me be clear that these are small actions… very small actions, and they may feel more like baby steps rather than anything monumental. At the same time, keep in mind that even baby steps are forward motion, and the goal is to get unstuck and continue healing and moving forward.

The pace at which this happens is as individual as each of us and each loss we experience. So… be patient with yourself and the process. There is no rushing through it; it is a moment by moment, step by step experience.

So… here are two ways I like to start my day (or week) depending on where I am emotionally. Each of these allow me to take control and anchor myself vs letting my emotions take complete control.

Idea 1
1. Stand in your main living space with one hand on your chest (to feel your heartbeat) and one hand on your belly (to feel your breath).

2. Take three deep breaths. This allows you to slow your heartbeat and breath rate (which helps to lower your cortisol – the anxiety, fight-or-flight hormone), while also allowing you to connect to those natural rhythms within.

3. Name three things that are stable in your life right now – this moment. Don’t think about next week or next year – only this exact moment. Also, they don’t need to be perfect – only stable. (This could include relationships as well as material items… In other words, anything that is stable right now.)

4. Say: “This is enough to carry me through today/this week.”

* Repeat this throughout the day/week as needed. By focusing on the stable things in your life, you will reinforce resilience rather than denying any difficulty.

Idea 2
1. Take three deep breaths. (Same reasons as above)

2. Ask yourself (and answer):
a. How do I want to feel today?
b. What’s one thing that would make me proud tonight?
c. What can I release from my to-do list?

* This is about being mindful with our self-care while allowing us to enter the day with clarity and softness.

As I said, these are small actions with the potential for great change. They provide a way of moving forward (even if the steps are small). They work in a way that is positive and builds up our resilience. Finally, neither of these are about denying our pain… They are simply about shifting our focus to help create a more hope-filled experience.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.
I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog; for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

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Peace, Love, and Grief – Grief Survival

As I have said several times before, I am a “list person”. I love a to-do list. I love the feeling of accomplishment as I complete an item and check it off the list. Embarrassing as it is, if I didn’t put an item on the list, but still completed it, I will add it just so I can check it off. (I’m not sure what that says about me, but I’m sure it’s something “not quite right.” LOL!)

So… when Bruce died, you know what I did, right? I went on an internet search for a list of things to do to heal the pain… to get past the grief… to feel whole again. Let me say right now, there is no such list. (And if you find one, I will bet it is completely misleading.)

So why is my title “Grief Survival”? I will say that it is not because I have discovered a list – I have not. However, it is because there are small things we can recognize in our thinking, and once we start changing those, we can start to see a path forward.

Let’s start by looking at the pain of grief. Whether your loss happened slowly over time and you knew it was coming at some point or whether your loss was sudden and unexpected, the pain is real. The pain is intense. The pain is often overwhelming and paralyzing.

However, it isn’t pain that creates our suffering. (I know how crazy that sounds… just stick with me for a little bit more.) So, as I was saying…

Pain doesn’t create our suffering. It is the story we tell ourselves about that pain which creates our suffering. For example, when Bruce died, all I could see in my future were years upon years of days and days without Bruce. It never seemed to lift for even a moment. I found myself completely unable to see past the pain… All I could see were all those years stretched out before me alone… abandoned… without Bruce.

This made my pain feel never-ending, and I started telling myself (and believing) that my grief was permanent. It was (and would always be) a part of my life… a permanent part of me and who I am as a person. Nothing could change it. My future was set.

Some people refer to this as “freezing your horizon”. I love this phrase. For me, paints a very clear image of what this story I was telling myself was doing to my mindset and my future.

Then, (God love the man), I started exploring who Bruce was – deep down beyond the man that I knew. He was such a spiritual person, and soon I found myself reading the books he read and listening to the speakers he enjoyed. These were all things he had offered to me during our time together, but back then, I wasn’t ready to hear… At that time, life was good and I thought I already had all the answers… I was wrong.

It was taken years… Years of baby steps – but still many years of (slowly) moving forward. And what I have learned (so far) is this…

For way too long, my focus was on all the wrong things. I was focused on what was, what is no longer, what is missing… what is frozen and stuck. I couldn’t see a way forward, because I was still telling myself that there was no way forward… In front of me was only more of the same – pain and loneliness.

Then, a few years ago, things started to change… I started changing my focus. Instead of focusing on what is stuck, I started looking at what is changing – day by day, moment by moment. Sometimes big changes (like my career), and sometimes small changes like learning to laugh again without the guilt of Bruce not being here to laugh with me.

It sounds odd, I know, but I started looking at pain as my teacher – not my future. I started looking for the things I was learning and doing simply because I am still here… because I am searching for answers. I was looking for the good despite the bad… I was looking at the lessons that the pain was reflecting back to me.

When I did that, I also learned that whether I denied the pain or wallowed in it was the same basic action. It was me trying to control it by either shoving it down deep and ignoring it or by pulling it up front and making it the only choice on the menu. However, when I tried to control that pain, I only create more suffering for the simple reason that it became my only focus.

I couldn’t see any other options, because I only allowed myself to see this one… the pain. Over time, it became a habit. Yet, like any habit it could be undone – although it is hard and takes quite a bit of work.

Today, I want to share one of the things that seems to work, (at least for me). This is something very subtle, but the impact is huge. It has involved making a very tiny change to the story I tell myself…

Instead of telling myself, “I am grieving” or “I am broken”, which I did a lot, now, I tell myself that “Grief (or brokenness) is moving through me.” In other words, it isn’t a part of me. It isn’t permanent. It is just present in this current moment. I can recognize it, but I don’t need to embrace it.

This simple change takes the power away from the emotion by no longer declaring it as a permanent part of who I am. It then becomes easier to focus on the other things around me… the good things… the things that create peace in my mind and joy in my heart… I have even found that this is how I am handling all of the pain and chaos that seems to be permeating our culture lately… So, for me, this is how I am learning to survive – not just my grief, but also this wild ride called “life”.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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 – Grief Burnout

Well… I survived another year… Another year without Bruce… Another set of back-to-back special days. For those of you who have been on this journey for more than a year, you know that there are “special” days throughout the year that are just a little bit harder than other days, such as anniversaries, holidays, birthdays… I am sure you know what I mean.

For me, most of those “special” days fall back-to-back in the months of November through early January. It starts in early November with our wedding anniversary, then in quick succession there is Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, the day we met, New Years, and the day Bruce died – all within ten weeks.

In years past, I wasn’t so sure I would survive. It was always completely overwhelming. Then, add on the fact that the rest of the world is truly celebrating, and I don’t want to be the one who brings everyone else down. So, I always tried to smile my way through it in public, while grieving in private. (I can’t say I was always successful with the public part… Although, I tried.)

While each year has had its own challenges, looking back, I can see a consistent pattern of me being able to manage the grief a little bit better each year. There was the first year when I ran away to the Keys and stayed on a yacht to avoid the whole Christmas season. Then, a year or two later, I can remember actually singing carols again… and enjoying them. There were the years when my grandson lived here, and I was able to focus on him the whole season… So, growth – slow, but steady.

I’m okay with that… It has been slow, but it has also been moving in a positive direction. Step by step… year by year, I have slowly found myself learning to live again within the spirit of the holiday season. I must admit, though, that it still has its challenges.

Today, as I finally find myself on the other side of all those special days, I have to admit, I am absolutely exhausted! The emotional toll has left me completely spent. I believe there is a term for it, although I just heard it for the first time a few weeks ago… “grief burnout”.

The Cleveland Clinic defines burnout as “physical, emotional or mental exhaustion, accompanied by decreased motivation and performance.” Oh my gosh!! That is exactly how I feel… Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted… to the point of not caring.

But… I have to care. Life keeps moving forward and so must I. So how do I do that??

I’ll be honest, after so many years of this, I knew it was coming. I knew how I would feel. While the rest of the world is spending January focusing on how to be a better person, I am just trying to come back from the tsunami of grief that has left me gasping for breath on the shore.

So… this year, I decided to have a plan… a self-care, self-love plan… A plan that gives me permission to rest for a while and not worry so much about new goals or resolutions. A plan that gives me permission to delay those for a month or two. Here is what I mean…

One of the big signs of burnout is fatigue. I am talking about the kind of exhaustion that makes it hard to even breathe, much less get up and do. So, my plan for the next few weeks is to rest… to do the things I can (or must) do, and not to worry about anything else. It will all still be there in a few weeks, and I will take care of it then. For now, if I want to go to bed one or two hours early, I will. Who cares? It isn’t hurting a soul, and I will definitely feel better in the morning.

Another sign of burnout can be apathy. For me, this means I need to be intentional about the things I am doing. It may (and usually does) mean I am doing a little bit less, but the things I choose to do are things I care about… Things that I believe matter or make a difference… Things that make me smile.

Lack of focus has been a big burnout symptom for me this year. Part of my daily routine is to meditate each morning. It helps me to get my mind into a good space before starting my day. However, the last few weeks I have struggled with this. Whereas I usually meditate for 30 minutes or more, I have been lucky to even sit still (much less meditate) for longer than 10 minutes. My brain just keeps going in 100 directions all at once. It has become a lesson in frustration every single morning. Yet, I haven’t quit.

I know that routine is an important part of gaining focus, so I am sticking with it. This morning, I even managed six minutes of meditation before my mind decided to take over. However, instead of worrying about the amount of time I didn’t meditate, I decide to be grateful for the six minutes that I did. (It’s all in the perspective, right?)

Finally, my daughter introduced me to an app for self-care. Its cutesy and colorful… and it makes me smile. It walks me through my daily goals and never makes me feel bad if I don’t hit each goal every day. Plus, we are able to support each other through our daily goals, by sending each other encouragement, hugs and “gifts”. So far, my goals have been very basic, I mean very basic – like “get out of bed”. I’m sure that sounds silly, but for right now, I’m so tired that this goal is harder for me than one might think.

I guess, because I had never heard the term “grief burnout” before, I never thought of this exhaustion and brain scramble as anything other than “grief brain”. Granted, most people use the term “grief brain”… Even I have used it many times.

However, I think the term “grief burnout” may work better for everyday language. Why? Because many people have never experienced deep grief before, so the term “grief brain” means nothing. Yet, most people have experienced burnout at some point, so it automatically becomes something they can understand… something that may feel less uncomfortable because it is something they can relate to… Maybe.

Anyway, no matter what words you use or if you use no words at all… If the holidays have left you feeling emotionally depleted, please, love yourself enough to give yourself the gift of self-care… You are worth the investment.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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 Worst Night Ever

This is “the” weekend… The anniversary of Bruce’s death. Although the word “anniversary” feels wrong. It is usually used to signify a celebration of some kind, and this coming day is anything BUT a celebration. For over a week now my emotions have been a roller coaster between rough moments and less rough moments… (if that makes sense). One minute I am okay and the next I can’t stop the memories of that night, and the tears pour uncontrollably down my cheeks.

While I have shared this story many times before, it seems appropriate to share the story of that night one more time… Plus I can’t seem to think about anything else. Please bear with me… Some of my memories of that night are quite foggy while others are as sharp as if it all just happened.

I remember waking up shortly after midnight. We were still snuggled up, but Bruce sounded like he was having a nightmare. I remember trying to wake him up. I called his name and shook him hard several times. As I reached across him to turn on the bedside lamp, he seized up, then suddenly went limp. I was frozen for a moment – not quite sure what to do. My instinct was to call 911. However, I also knew if I was over-reacting, he would not be happy with me. He always hated attention. (Keep in mind, this debate in my own mind took less than half a second.)

I called 911.

I remember talking to the dispatcher while racing to open the front door for the EMS crew. I remember the dispatcher asking if Bruce was still breathing… I know it sounds ridiculous, but I couldn’t tell. He sounded like he was trying to breathe but couldn’t catch his breath. Finally, I said, “No, I don’t think he is breathing.” (I remember thinking how stupid I must sound.)

The dispatcher asked if I knew how to do chest compressions. I did. In fact, up until that point, I had been “the” CPR certified person in our office for years. He then asked if I could move Bruce to the floor so the compressions would be more effective. I couldn’t – Bruce was a bodybuilder and more than twice my size. Plus, our bed was so high up, it required stairs for me to climb into it.

Instead, I had to find something solid and get it under him before I could start the compressions. I found something that would work but getting it under him was another problem. It took all my strength to roll him onto his side and hold him there while I positioned the board beneath him.

I remember thinking I was wasting so much time… I needed to move faster, but my feet felt like I was running in wet cement.

I finally started the compressions while counting out loud. I was only on 53 or 54 when the EMS team walked in and took over. They immediately moved him to the floor as they took over the compressions and inserted a breathing tube attached to a breathing bag. I realized immediately that the pulse line on their monitor was flat. I watched from a few feet away, as they tried injecting medication directly into his heart… but the line on the monitor stayed flat. Next, they tried the “paddles”… but still, the line on the monitor remained flat.

I remember standing perfectly still… frozen in space and time – completely silent… yet on the inside, I was screaming for him to come back… but I already knew. No one said a word… They didn’t need to – we all knew.

They continued doing CPR as we waited for a police officer to arrive who could drive me to the hospital behind the ambulance. There were no sirens and no one beside me in the squad car… just myself and my worst fear coming true… and I couldn’t make any of it stop.

At the hospital, they led me to a “consultation room.” There was one dimly lit lamp on a table and two couches on opposite walls facing each other. I remember sitting there alone at first. I remember I didn’t want to be there. I already knew what the “consultation” would be, and I didn’t want to hear it… I didn’t want to hear those words.

While it felt like forever, it was only a few minutes before the attending physician came in and said the words that made everything final and real… a confirmation of what I didn’t want to know for sure.
In that moment my world fell apart. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I remember thinking that for so many years, Bruce had been my hero – my knight in shining armor – and now, in his moment of crisis, I had failed him.

His next breath had depended on me, and despite everything I tried… he had died.

Believe me when I say, I know it is hard to lose a spouse. I know it is even harder to watch them take their last breath… I also know the worst is knowing that his next breath… his very life had depended on me, and I failed.

It took over four months for the autopsy results to come back. The cause of death was listed as “hypertensive heart disease” – high blood pressure. (Bruce had been on medication for years for his blood pressure.) The Medical Examiner called to further explain his findings… the piece of the puzzle he felt I needed to know.

As he explained it, Bruce’s heart was twice the size it should have been. This was caused by hypertension. He explained that the high blood pressure forces the heart to work harder to pump the blood. The heart, like any muscle, grows when it works hard… forcing the heart to work even harder. Over time, this creates an unhealthy cycle.

The Medical Examiner also asked if anyone had performed CPR on Bruce that night. I told him that I had tried but failed. As we talked, he was very kind and explained that I was really “too small to be effective at CPR.” He said that CPR is used as an attempt to help someone who is technically already dead and most times it is not effective… especially when performed by someone my size on someone Bruce’s size.

He further explained that, in reality, no one could have saved Bruce that night. Because of his heart size, Bruce had needed a heart transplant. Without it, once his heart stopped, there was no way to restart it… No one could have saved him that night… no one, because it was already too late.

While my rational mind understood all of this, emotions are not rational. So, despite the rational understanding, I struggled with guilt for well over a decade.

At first, I tried to deal with my guilt by talking about it, but people weren’t really equipped to help. Their response usually sounded something like, “You know you couldn’t have saved him.” (Yes, I know.) “You’ve been told there was nothing anyone could have done.” (True.) “Don’t say that. You know better. Stop thinking like that.” (True, but what I felt and what I knew were two different things, and I didn’t know how to make it stop until I finally got some professional help.)

Back then, though, I quit trying to talk about it… I didn’t blame people for being uncomfortable or for the things they said. They were trying. They meant well. (And I appreciate that effort.) They wanted to help by having me look at the facts… The problem was I knew the facts, but that didn’t help me deal with the emotions. My rational mind understood all the facts.

I had no regrets about our relationship or how we spent our time together. (I still don’t.) And as hard as it has been, I am thankful that I held Bruce while he took his last breath. I am so thankful I was with him, and he didn’t die alone.

Through therapy, I have learned that regret and guilt are emotions that get us nowhere. They are not productive. They cause us to bog down where we are – unable to move forward because we are spending too much time ruminating on the past. At the same time, we have to process all of that to heal… I couldn’t just shove it down and pretend I was okay, because for years, I wasn’t okay.

Thankfully, I finally processed all of those emotions. In fact, for the past two years, I have actually been able to simply grieve his loss without the added weight of guilt, regret, or failure. That has been huge… I’m still sad. I still miss him… This upcoming day in January is still the hardest one on the calendar… and that night will always feel like the worst night ever. However, to be able to simply grieve without all of that other stuff has completely flipped my journey, and for that… I am so thankful.

I was who I was,
Because you were beside me.
I am who I am,
Because you aren’t.
~ Linda, January 2013

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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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 – Grief Lessons

Note: If you noticed that I was missing last week, thank you for noticing. I was visiting family in SC. Knowing that this time with family is precious and not promised next year, I wanted to devote all of my energy on those moments.

With the new year, this week has been one of reflection… What worked… What didn’t… What did I learn… And what do I want to focus on moving forward. That being said, I thought I would share my Top 10 List of Grief Lessons Learned in 2025.

1. Grief was debilitating in the beginning. Back then, every moment was a struggle to simply keep breathing. After almost 13 years, grief has seemed to settle into a state of sad acceptance with only occasional debilitating waves. (This is also something I am grateful for… The energy required in the beginning would not be sustainable forever.)

2. My word for 2025 was “truth” – live it, speak it, stand in it… However, I learned pretty quickly that people don’t necessarily like truth, despite all the noise to the contrary. The only “truth” most of us like is the one that allows us to continue thinking, saying, or doing everything the same way without any challenges, self-awareness, or ideas that might necessitate change. (Especially when the person standing in their truth is someone who has always been a “pleaser” in the past who made life easier – not more thought-provoking.)

3. Grief has taught me that joy and happiness really are two very different things. While happiness can be fleeting and is much more dependent on external circumstances, joy is completely internal and can be accessed despite external circumstances – even the truly devastating ones like grief. It isn’t easy… but it’s depth and availability are completely within my grasp.

4. All things are made up of energy, (atoms)… And energy never vanishes or dies. It can transform, but it never simply disappears. Therefore, when our loved ones die, their energy is still around us, but in a different form. It is on us to be open to “seeing” that energy and recognizing it as their present love.

5. Having lost the love of my life, resulting in tons of personal research, therapy, and writing this blog, one would think that I would be the first person to reach out and know just what to say when someone else experiences a similar loss. I do try. However, the introvert in me still struggles terribly with that. I know that we all experience life and grief differently, so I still worry about making assumptions and saying the wrong thing based on my own experience. (This is one of those lessons that I need to continue working on.)

6. Grief comes in many forms, with many triggers… and all of it has its challenges. In other words, it’s all hard… and it all sucks!

7. Self-care is how I manage my grief best. When Bruce was alive, we took care of each other. We made sure the other person had not only what they needed, but also the little things that energize us. For each of us, that looked different, but we each know when the other wasn’t getting that care that helped us maintain balance. With Bruce gone, I now have to stay aware of my own needs and maintaining that balance. It might look like meditation, going for a run, a hot bath, or even looking in the mirror and giving myself a compliment. It feels weird and even self-centered sometimes, but I also know I am a better person when I do it. Self-care (for me) isn’t optional anymore – it’s mandatory.

8. According to “experts”, there are five stages of grief. I’m not disputing this theory. However, it is important to know that these “stages” are not some kind of linear, step-by-step map for grief healing. It is more of a way to categorize the biggest emotions felt in grief and are used to understand our current emotions and needs. Each stage can appear, disappear, and re-appear multiple times throughout the years. They can even overlap, or multiple ones can show up at the same time… And while there will be past lessons you can apply, there will also be new lessons and new challenges that must be learned before moving on.

9. Friends and family mean everything… I mean the ones who don’t require you to adjust your grief to make them feel better… I am talking about the ones who don’t try to talk you out of your grief or belittle your emotions… I am referring to the ones who are willing to simply sit with you in the darkness, if that is what you need… These are the heroes! These are the ones who will guarantee your survival… These are the ones who help us find our way back out of the darkness so we can live the life that is still before us.

10. It isn’t all about me… It never was… If I want others to accept me where I am on this journey, then I must do the same for those around me. I need to remember that I am not the only one dealing with sadness or pain. I am not the only one with lessons to learn. We all need to know there is someone who cares… And we all need to be that someone for others.

So, that’s it. I am sure I could come up with more, but ten seems like a good number… And besides, this gives me a lot to contemplate as I move into 2026.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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 – Comfort and Joy

“I will turn their mourning into joy; I will comfort them and give them gladness for sorrow.”

~ Jeremiah 31:13

When my kids were little and I taught music and directed several choirs, this was our busiest time of year. There were musicals, concerts, private performances, caroling, parades, and church services. You name it, and we were there… And that was on top of everything else the season demanded, such as shopping, wrapping, cards, cooking, visits, etc.

I loved it! … At the same time, it was absolutely exhausting!

When Bruce and I got married, while I still sang in the church choir, I changed career fields and let the rest go. It was kind of nice to “sit back” a little bit and simply enjoy only a little bit of the chaos. Bruce was such a calm, chill soul that the season never seemed to get out of hand.

Instead, with Bruce, the holiday took on a whole different feel… One that allowed time to simply sit and take in all of the sights and smells… One, I believe, I had been chasing my whole life. For the first time that I ever experienced, we actually had time to just sit together on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and simply spend time together.

Even on our last Christmas together, we kept the day simple and went kayaking after opening our gifts. It was quiet and relaxing… and fun and beautiful on the water that day. While the pictures I took are terrible, the memories they inspire are absolutely fantastic.

Through the years, since then, I have gone from running away from the holiday to finally embracing it again. This year, though, I felt something more tugging at my soul. At first, I wasn’t even sure what it was I was seeking…

Then, in my devotions this week, the topic of “comfort” came up. It talked about the chaos that the season can induce, and how easy it is to get so lost in all of it that we end up feeling completely alone, despite being around so many people. I can’t tell you how many times I have felt exactly that since Bruce died – completely surrounded and yet completely alone.

But the devotion didn’t stop there… It went on to talk about taking the time to “go within” and find that special connection with the Divine. It talked about when we find ourselves grieving someone who is no longer here to celebrate with us, we can find solace in that spiritual connection… We can find comfort there… which opens the door to the joy of the season versus the busyness… This embodied so much of what Bruce had showed me about this season but has been so easily forgotten as the momentum snowballs.

As I meditated on all of this, the song, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, came to mind, especially that last verse…

Now to the Lord sing praises,
All you within this place,
And with true love and brotherhood
Each other now embrace;
This holy tide of Christmas
All other doth deface.
O tidings of comfort and joy,
Comfort and joy
O tidings of comfort and joy

And that is my wish for all of us this season… That we will slow down and take the time to hold each other in our hearts… That we will lay down our differences and simple love each other in such a way that we all feel comfort and joy – once again… or (maybe even) for the first time.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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 – It’s Okay

Last week, you may remember, I was struggling – the holidays, the grief, the loneliness, the pressure – all of it was bringing me to a space that felt raw and dark… a space I didn’t want to be but wasn’t quite sure how to get around it.

But… The Universe/the Divine/Life, (choose your word), heard my cry for help…

Throughout the week, (despite the fact that I don’t even think they read this blog), friends and loved ones have sent me messages that either made me laugh or were messages of love or simply checking in to remind me that, despite what I may feel, I am not alone in this world. Even some of you, letting me know that you are feeling the same – that we are here, supporting each other. All of that seemed to be exactly what I needed… something else to focus on… something positive.

Some of the first messages were the ones that made me laugh… Oh my gosh! I needed that! I needed to laugh… and I needed that reminder that life is not meant to be so serious. It is much healthier to let myself laugh at the crazy, imperfections of life, than to stress about trying to make it all perfect, especially in a world that isn’t.

Then came the reminders of love and genuine caring about how I’m doing… Reminders that others realize this is a hard time of year… They understand the hurt that I may be feeling but want me to remember that I don’t need to carry all of that by myself.

I am loved… and every person in my world has reminded me of that this week.

It has all been a wonderful reminder that while I can’t control my emotions… They happen. They are what they are… What I can control is how I express and/or respond to those emotions. I was on the right path… I was working to stay focused on the positive, and life responded by multiplying the positive ten-fold.

And now… here I am, feeling abundantly loved… Still missing Bruce. (I don’t think that will ever go away completely.) Yet, feeling positive about the season, taking life as it comes, and feeling blessed by so many wonderful people in my world… Thank you.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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 – Here We Go Again

The last time I wrote, (before Thanksgiving), I was fighting to focus on things that make me smile – precious memories of past holidays and being mindful of the present and the memories currently being made… And “fighting” is the perfect word for how I have been feeling.

I don’t know why, but this year’s holiday season is a bigger struggle than the last few. There is no logical reason for it, but then again, grief has never been a logical journey for me. So, I have found myself hanging on for dear life, as this roller coaster seems to be barreling uncontrollably along the track.

It started about two or three weeks ago… Whenever I was alone, depression seemed to be closing in all around me, and the tears would start filling up my eyes. I was trying so hard to fight it… To push through it… To not let that negativity take over this holiday season.

Then, the week of Thanksgiving, things took a deep dive. For whatever reason, I started waking up with an overwhelming feeling of doom and deep anxiety. There was no reason for it in my daily life, so I am guessing it has been coming from my dreams, which I can’t seem to recall.

Then, from Thanksgiving to now, I have felt like I am sitting on the edge of some dark abyss – trying to maintain my balance… trying not to tumble down into that dark space, where climbing back out can feel nearly impossible. The tears are falling several times a day, and the smile I force on my face in public feels as fake as the fingernails on my hands.

With a lot of self-reflection, I have come to realize that while a big piece of all these emotions is simply because it is the holidays and Bruce is not here (again), there are other factors as well… Things that I am struggling to handle alone… Things that hurt so badly, I would give anything to feel Bruce’s arms around me – pulling me in and holding me tight, assuring me that I am not alone…

But I am alone… Bruce’s arms are no longer here to hold me… no longer here to bring me comfort or reassurance that it will all be okay.

This has been my year to stand in my truth… To hold my boundaries even when I know my decision is something the other person doesn’t quite know how to manage. I have spent most of my life making decisions to keep everyone else happy. However, when Bruce came along, he started encouraging me to just be me… It was hard and progress was slow. Then, he died and I was back at square one.

After so many years (and lots of counseling), I found myself ready to truly live my truth in 2025… Or so I thought. It has been hard… so hard. Most of my friends and family have been beyond supportive – encouraging me when I falter and allowing me to figure all of this out without the added pressure of killing the relationship if I don’t capitulate to what I think they want or need.

At the same time, that support has not come from everyone. I have lost some relationships this year that mean the world to me. I honestly don’t think anyone made a conscious decision to walk away simply because I didn’t do what they wanted in a given moment. I think it was more a matter of me changing and growing, and the relationship itself couldn’t manage that change. I miss them. I love them… And it hurts my heart so badly to grieve people who are still alive.

So, this is where I am this week… Trying to focus on the beauty and joy of this season and stay out of the darkness…

Trying to stand gently in my truth and not backslide to a space that is familiar but terribly unhealthy…

Trying to remember that it is okay to be as kind and gentle with myself as I encourage others to be with themselves…

Trying to breathe… and tend to the needs of my heart in healthy ways…

Trying to simply manage each moment one at a time as life presents itself…
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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 – Our First Family Holiday

Well, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas in our little town, and I have started pulling out a few decorations here and there to get a jump on the decorating. Normally, I wait until the weekend after Thanksgiving to start all that, but there are already so many things on the calendar that I decided to start a little bit earlier this year.

Not that my decorating is what this week’s blog is about… It isn’t. At the same time, it is the decorating that sparked the memory that I want to share today… One that hits me every year as soon as the Christmas décor starts being pulled out of the boxes.

It was late September, when Bruce and I made the decision to get married. So then, Halloween weekend found my youngest daughter and I driving up to Michigan with a carload of our stuff and my middle daughter’s cat. Bruce and I were married about a week later… But we still had stuff back home, so the three of us traveled all the way back home to South Carolina a few weeks later, where we spent Thanksgiving Day with my family, loaded up a moving van with the final stuff we were taking with us, and traveled back to Michigan in time for Bruce to go to work on Monday.

Being the wonderful, generous people they are, Bruce’s folks lost no time in coming over on Monday (while Bruce was working) and helped my daughter and I unload the van and get settled in. Moving from a 3000 square foot home to a 900 square foot condo, though, meant that a lot of items were going into storage until we figured out what (if anything) to do with them.

I will always remember Bruce’s Dad laughing at me as he counted the number of boxes marked “Christmas”. I am pretty sure the number was somewhere around 20 (and that did not include a tree). His Dad, who was doing all the heavy lifting, just laughed and laughed as he carried yet another box into the house saying, “My goodness! You sure do love Christmas!”

By the time Bruce got home that night, the truck was unpacked, the furniture was in place, and there was a tower of Christmas boxes in the dining room waiting to be emptied over the next few days. Bruce chuckled as his dad continued to tease me. Then, he grinned and simply said, “I have some Christmas decorations too. Let me add them to the pile.”

Then, he proceeded to go into the closet and pull out one box… Yes, you read that right… one box… And when I peeked inside to see what he had in there, I saw one nativity set, one stocking, a Christmas blanket, and a tangled mess of Christmas lights… He just laughed sheepishly when he saw my face. “I’ve been a bachelor for 14 years. What did you expect?”

That week, while Bruce was at work, and my youngest was at school, I set to work decorating the house for Christmas. By Friday, with the exception of a tree, the house was decorated… It looked like Christmas had exploded in that tiny little space, and I was a little worried that my minimalist husband might not be too pleased.

I shouldn’t have worried though. When Bruce came through the door on that Friday, he looked around and grinned from ear to ear. Then, he took me in his arms and whispered, “You have really made this place look like a home… a real home… I can’t wait for my daughter to see this. She won’t believe this is the same place.”

After dinner, Bruce asked if we would all like to go to pick a tree the next morning. He suggested that we get that up and decorated over the weekend. While my daughter (who was understandably not thrilled at moving and having a stepfather) tried to act like she could care less, I couldn’t wait. We were going to have a wonderful Christmas… I just knew it.

So, early the next morning, Bruce tossed a saw into the back of his truck and the three of us piled into the front. There was fresh snow on the ground, but the truck was warm as we drove to what Bruce proclaimed was the “best Christmas tree farm in the state”. Once we arrived, the three of us piled out, Bruce grabbed the saw, I started inspecting trees, and my daughter did the “I’m bored and angsty” thing.

After several minutes, I called the two of them over to show them the tree I thought would be perfect. Bruce didn’t even look at it. Instead, he looked at my daughter and asked if she had picked one yet.
“What?” I asked.

“It’s tradition,” he responded. “In our family, the youngest daughter always picks the tree. Growing up, that was my youngest sister… She was always the one to pick the tree.”

“Seriously?”, I asked.

“Seriously,” he answered, as he turned back to my daughter.

Then, I saw my first Christmas miracle… My daughter’s face lit up as she realized the “gift” he was giving her… Not just a chance to pick our first family tree, but the gift of his family and her inclusion into their world and their traditions.

I will admit, it took me a few minutes to appreciate what was happening. However, after watching the two of them walk all over that farm until she finally found the tree she wanted, my heart softened. Then, watching him as he lay on his belly in the snow and proceeded to saw down “her tree”, I knew this was one of those precious moments that none of us would ever forget.

Many Christmases have come and gone since that year, and each one holds a precious place in my heart. Yet, that year will always stand out because that was the year that this wonderful man gave my family the gift of his family… and his heart.

Holiday Note: I will be taking a break next weekend, while I spend time with my family. I will meet you back here the following week.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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 – Courage

According to the dictionary, courage is defined as “the ability to do something that is frightening; bravery; strength in the face of pain.”

For those of us who have been left behind… who are now trying to figure out how to live on without our loved ones… we can tell the rest of the world that this takes courage… It has not only been a frightening prospect, but it has also required bravery and strength that I never knew I had within me.

Shoot, I’m not really sure I had it in me when this journey first started. I mean, I guess, I had a certain amount of courage because I kept on… I kept on breathing. I kept on getting out of bed. I kept on working and eating and living my life… And trust me when I say, NONE of that was easy.

I didn’t want to get out of bed. I didn’t want to work or eat or laugh or breathe… I didn’t want to keep on living. What I wanted was to crawl into a dark hole somewhere and let the rest of the world go on without me… But I didn’t… I came close… very close many times… but I didn’t quit.

Instead, each day… each moment… I made the difficult decision to keep on… to take that next breath… to move through that next moment… that next conversation… that next challenge that life so “graciously” threw in my path.

It. Was. Hard.

But I didn’t quit… Sure, there were multitudes of times when I had to lean on family or friends to simply survive to the next moment… There were times when I got stuck in a darkness of my own creation, but their love gave me the gentle prod I needed to move again. In other words, I didn’t quit… and they didn’t quit on me.

Their love sustained me… Their love gave me purpose… Their love and support gave me space for my own courage to grow and develop within this new role in life, (even when I didn’t want to), and I am eternally grateful.

So, maybe it isn’t about how much courage we have going into our grief journey… Maybe, instead, for some of us, it is a matter of our courage growing because of the challenges that grief demands. In other words, maybe our courage is actually born of our grief… And maybe (just maybe) the courage that grief requires isn’t about what we are brave enough to do in each moment… Maybe instead, courage is more about the conscious decision to do the next hard thing… or take the next hard step… despite everything within us thinking we can’t.

I have been here for a while.
I am alone.
I have learned to be okay with that.

Here, it feels warm.
Here, it feels safe.
Here, I can just be…
no worrying…
no crying…
no feeling…
No life.

I must find my courage.
I must break out of this shell of isolation,
And like a seed,
I must push out of the comfort of my own creation
And move toward the sun…
To places unknown.
~ Linda, January 2024

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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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