loss – Page 22 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… The Good Old Days

“One of life’s great tragedies – We don’t know we are living in the good old days until the good old days are gone.” ~ Christian White, Second Skin

That quote came from an audible book I started listening to this week, and as soon as I heard it, it filled my heart and soul. There is nothing more true… or more tragic.

So many times (like this week), when I am missing Bruce, the memories come flooding back. The strange thing is most of those memories are simple day to day moments. Sure, I often remember and write about the big moments… Things that defined our relationship or took us down another path in our lives. But to be honest, I believe it is those day to day moments that may have shaped us even more, because those moments were the foundation of our lives… They were the anchor on which our responses to the bigger moments seemed to rely.

The day in and day out of our lives together created a simply routine that over time brought us closer and closer together. The crazy thing… And the sad thing is I took them for granted. Those really were the good old days, but I didn’t know it. I didn’t know just how special they really were. Nor did I know how quickly they would end or how much I would miss them.

I have found myself thinking about those “good old day” moments this week… The way Bruce always started his day in his easy chair, leaning back, watching the news, working his Sudoku and drinking a cup of coffee. That was his time… He wasn’t ready for conversation yet, but as I went about my own morning routine, he always had a smile as I passed by or a gentle squeeze of my hand if I passed close enough. Those smiles and those gentle touches are so special to me now.

I used to love our Sunday afternoons… Whether we were grilling or cooking in the kitchen, there was always music playing, and that man, beer in hand, would be barefoot and dancing as he went about making dinner. Sometimes I helped, and sometimes I just sat on one of the bar stools and talked to him. But it never failed that at some point, he would take my hand and spin me around the floor for quick dance and hug. Such a simple moment… but such a precious memory.

When we were in the car, he never talked much… Of course, he wasn’t a huge talker any time, but in the car, (generally speaking) he was even more quiet. But always, he had one hand either on my leg or holding my hand. I remember once when we were first dating, as he placed his hand on my leg he said, “I hope you don’t mind. I just can’t be near you and not touch you.” I remember grinning and telling him I loved it… And that sealed it…

There were other simple moments that made up our lives. For example, we always went to bed together and woke up together. It wasn’t like we had ever talked about it, and decided we should do that… We just did it… from day one. Yet, the act of starting and ending our days together became as important to us as breathing… It was just a part of how we functioned as a couple.

These were the day to day moments that made up our lives. There are so many of them, I could go on and on… but I won’t. I am sure you get the picture and are thinking of your own simple moments that you miss. That’s just it… I miss those moments the most, I think. They made up my day and our routine. Those were our “good old days” and we didn’t even know it… Not until they were gone.

I have spent the past seven years trying to re-establish a day to day routine… a “new normal,” as they say. One that can no longer include Bruce, no matter how much I wish it could. It’s been hard… Sometimes I feel like I am making progress, but then, out of nowhere, I seem to take several steps backward and have to start again.

But somewhere along this path, (the one without Bruce), I came to realize that these are also “the good old days.” I am blessed to have most of my children living nearby and my grandson right here in my home. My life is different without Bruce, but there is still laughter and love and so many precious moments that I wouldn’t miss for the world.

So, yes… Those were the good old days, and I miss them terribly. I hate that I didn’t know to appreciate them while they were happening… However, these are the good old days, too… And this time I want to soak in every one of them and count my blessings as they happen!

So, that was my world this week. I apologize for not posting last week. I don’t often miss a week, but life got a little crazy, and priorities had to be handled. I don’t know if you can relate to my thoughts on the “good old days” and those simple moments or maybe this is something you are experiencing as well. Either way, I would love to hear from you. What were the simple moments that made up your good old days? Which simple moments do you miss most? 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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

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… Looking for Springtime

Your Gift
In each breeze, let me feel your touch.
In each sunrise, let me experience your joy.
In each storm, let me feel your strength.
In the quiet, let me hear your voice telling me –
All is well…
Each moment was planned;
Each smile was for me;
And your acceptance of life was your gift to help me through this storm.
I loved you
and even now… you love me.
~ Linda, September 2013

Another year… And still I find myself waiting for springtime and asking, “Is there a springtime in grief?” Is there a time when life feels new again? When hope and joy fill us with the excitement of all things new and fresh? I know there is… And there are many moments when I feel it too. However, Bruce’s birthday is also in the spring (and rapidly approaching) … And while it is a time when I celebrate his life, it is also a reminder that he is not here…

Yet, if he were here, I know exactly what Bruce would tell me. He was a man who seemed to never lose hope. He was vigilant in spotting the signs of spring and in finding those things that could put hope into any situation…

We met totally by chance on a small sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands. One week was all it took and he said he knew he loved me. He would always tell me that through all the years after his divorce, he always knew there was someone out there just for him… Someone he would love and would love him back.

As for me, I can’t say that… I wasn’t sure how I felt after that first week. I found my own feelings overwhelming and scary. I could think of a thousand reasons why it would never work… For starters, we lived 1000 miles apart. (I was from South Carolina, and he was Michigan.) However, within 24 hours of leaving that ship, I knew without a doubt that my future was with him. Ten short months later, I moved to Michigan and we were married.

This man had not only captured my heart, he was the other half of my soul.

My move to Michigan happened in November. Michigan winter was just setting in and came as quite a shock to this little southern girl. I did not realize that a place could be so cold… and for so long! I didn’t realize the reality of the term “so cold it will take your breath away.” I had no idea that snow could fall continuously for days and then stay for months.

Before Michigan, I could probably count the number of times I had seen snow on one hand. So, that first year found me completely unprepared… This place was a whole new experience for me, and I had a lot to learn about living in such a climate.

When I moved to Michigan, Bruce had promised he would keep me warm, and he did everything in his power to do so. However, try as he might, he couldn’t shorten a Michigan winter or make it feel warm enough for this southern belle. In South Carolina, by the end of March, things are usually starting to warm up. (Plus, they are never as cold as Michigan). But in Michigan, there is still snow (either falling on still on the ground) at the end of March. That was unfathomable to me.

I remember one particular Sunday afternoon that first March. I was standing at the slider watching yet another snowstorm roll in, and the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I was so conditioned to expect spring in March – cool nights, warm days, flowers, birds, green grass, sunshine… This felt so wrong. I didn’t think I could handle another snowstorm… I needed sunshine… And I found myself wondering if I had moved to some winter version of hell, and this interminable gray and cold would last forever.

At just that moment, Bruce came up behind me, put his arms around my waist, and pulled me back to lean into him. As he held me close, he spoke softly into my ear, “You okay?”

I replied, “No… It’s never going to stop snowing.”

“Do you see that those branches on that bush?” he asked as he nodded toward a bush just outside the window. (I nodded.) “Well, keep watching them, because in about 6 more weeks you will see a miracle. You will see green buds appear, and you’ll know that springtime really does happen… even in Michigan.”

I would like to say that I smiled and answered, “Oh thank you, Babe. I will believe you and wait patiently.” But I didn’t… Instead I cried out loud and said, “SIX MORE WEEKS?? Are you kidding me? I’ll never make it!” That poor man… he just held me closer and let me cry.

In the years that followed, we laughed many times thinking back on that story. Every spring he would remind me not to give up hope… spring really would come… even in Michigan.

At this point in my life, I have spent many springs without Bruce. Each year I find myself remembering that story, and comparing it to my life now… my life without the man who really was my springtime… Like Michigan, this journey often feels gray and cold, and I find myself wondering if I will ever feel the hope and joy that life can offer as deeply as did when Bruce was by my side. Will I ever have that carefree, walk-barefoot-in-the-grass, life-is-wonderful feeling again?

I know… Bruce would say, “Yes.” I can almost hear him tell me to be patient. Spring will come back to my life… and when I look real close, I really can start to see those buds on the branches of my life turning green… And I know he would tell me to never give up; there is always the promise of spring.

I guess, I have learned through the years that the only answer to get from here to there is patience… something I have always struggled with. Therefore, I don’t pretend it is an “easy” answer. However, I know he is standing behind me, pulling me close to lean in to him, saying, “Keep watching… Springtime really does happen.”

Everyone deals with life, loss, and grief in their own way and in their own time. We will each search and find the “springtime” in our lives at our own pace. After all, we all find answers and comfort in various sources, which is what makes us all unique and different. I am only sharing my thoughts. What about you? If you are struggling with grief, loss, loneliness, please know you are not alone – We are here. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Telling Our Story

“Your story is the most powerful part of who you are – the struggles, failures, successes, and everything in between. Remember always to stay open to new experiences and never let doubters get in the way.” ~ Michelle Obama, Becoming

When I started this blog years ago, it was to tell a story – my story. My story of what this grief journey was like for me. I learned early on that we each experience grief in our own way, and my journey may not sound anything like yours… Or it might sound a lot like yours. But in the process of telling my story, I hoped for two things:

1. I hoped and prayed that by sharing my experiences, I might help at least one other person understand that their own experiences or feelings were “normal.” (If there is such a thing as normal on this path.) That they weren’t alone… There was someone else out here who understood.

2. For my own sanity, I simply needed to tell my story. As the quote says, “it is the most powerful part of who I am.” I needed to get it out… I needed to feel like I still had a voice… And, honestly, I needed to be heard.

So, week after week, I have shared whatever was going on in my world and how I was feeling. I have shared the good times and the bad. I have shared my stumbling and my growth… and many of you have shared yours with me, as well. What a blessing you have been to me!

This week… well, this week the story has been so strange! Wouldn’t you agree? With everything happening, it has been beyond surreal. I have had a mix of emotions all week long. In our house, we have taken this situation seriously, without going hysterical. We are all at home, social distancing, having items delivered versus going to the store, working and schooling from home, going for walks and trying to remain positive and appreciative as we pass the time.

It’s still stressful, though. (I’d be lying if I said otherwise.) We have been trying to find the balance between watching enough news to stay “in the know,” while not watching so much that we get stressed from negative news overload. It can be hard, trying to act like this is “normal” and not getting caught up in all the frenzy.

Honestly, I think I am doing pretty good… at least, on the outside. However, the emotions on the inside seem to have a life of their own. (We can’t help what we feel, just what we do with them, right?) On the outside, I can smile and go on with my day. However, on the inside, my emotions can go from feeling fine and dandy to “meh” to downright frustration. (Remind you of anything?)

Yea… me too. It sounds a lot like grief, doesn’t it? Thursday night, as I lay in bed awake – unable to sleep – I came across an article that actually called it out. It is grief… It is a grief for what is happening and those who are dying. It is a grief for what our lives were like two weeks ago compared to now. It is a grief for our future, because our “plans” don’t seem very relevant anymore… and that list goes on and on.

And… just like those who grieve, there are many ways of responding… There are those who will deny what is happening, and those who will be frozen with fear. There are those who will “be good and do as they are told,” and those who put a voice to their depression and/or anxiety. And… There are those (like me) who will set their emotions aside just enough to smile through the day…. (Then, release them in the quiet, darkness of the night.)

I guess it is one of those things I have gotten better at through the years than I had realized. So… let’s put it out there, since that is what I do here. What am I feeling these days?

Well, to be honest. It depends on the moment. There are times (like today while tending my flower gardens), when I am able to completely forget all this and just get lost in my own thoughts. Then, there are times when I miss my family and friends or when I miss having time to myself. There are also times when I can laugh, and there are times when I really just want to cry (and I don’t even know why).

This week I had to cancel my trip for Bruce’s birthday weekend. It’s been a couple of years since I have been able to get away to celebrate him and us, and I was really looking forward to it. I had a cute, little cottage rented by the beach. I had planned to spend my days walking, reading, writing and just remembering. However, the beaches are closed, and all rentals are cancelled. Life has changed… I get it… It is best for now. I know there will be other years for going away to celebrate and remember. It’s not the end of the world. I’m just disappointed… That’s all.

Then there are the nights… It has been a while since insomnia has reared its head. Most nights I am fine, but there have been a few nights I found myself lying in bed, struggling to turn my mind off… and I can’t. In fact, usually, those are the nights when I find myself thinking about Bruce.

Part of me wonders what it would be like if he were still here… If we were going through this together? What would his response be? I don’t really know… Who could have ever imagined this even three weeks ago?

I do know this, though… I know he would be a calm and steady source of strength. I know that no matter how I was feeling, I would be able to lay in his arms at night and find the strength and security that I find myself longing for each night.

I don’t know what this next week will hold for any of us… I have no idea where any of this will lead. I just know I keep praying for those who are sick, those who are dead or dying, and their loved ones… For those out of work and their families… And for the rest of us as we watch and wait…

And I grieve… for all of us…

Everyone deals with life, loss, and grief in their own way and in their own time. Through this strange time, the best we can do is be patient with one another as we all find our way along this path… Keeping in mind that we all find answers and comfort in various sources, which is what makes us all unique and different. Do you have something that provides that sense of calmness in a storm? If so, would you share it with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

If you are struggling with grief, loss, loneliness, please know you are not alone – We are here. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted.

Peace, Love and Grief… Walking Through the Valley

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside the still waters,
He restores my soul.
He leads me in the path of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for He is with me; His rod and His staff, they comfort me.
He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies; He anoints my head with oil; my cup runs over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
~ Psalm 23

I wrote about this verse a couple of years ago. I wrote about how I had memorized it way back in third grade. It’s funny but to my little 8-year-old head, I pictured all these things as concrete actions… like something in a fairy tale – as if all those things would really happen if God was to give me any comfort.

At the time, our teacher, Mrs. Ezell, kept telling us the importance of memorizing scripture. “There may come a day when you do not have a Bible readily available. You never know what you will have to go through as you get older. Having these verses in your mind will allow you to recall them as you need them.” Boy! She was spot on!

So many times in my adult life, I have clung to this passage and the promises it holds for dear life. Promises of a God who loves me enough to provide and care for me even when I can’t (or won’t) do it for myself. Promises of a love so deep and so complete, that I know where to find refuge in times of stress and anxiety.

For example, after 20 years, when I finally made the decision to leave the chaos and violence of my first marriage, this verse became my lifeline. For three years, my kids and I endured threats, games and nonsense from my ex-husband until our divorce was final. Even though we had already endured years of this, the time between leaving and the divorce felt like one attack after another without any time to breathe. This created high anxiety and required constant vigilance on all our parts.

However, most nights, as I crawled into bed, I found myself calling on the promises in this verse… And each time, my anxiety level went down. Knowing God loved us all and had my back made all the difference in the world. Was it still hard? Of course! Were we still vigilant? Definitely! It was the worry and anxiety that was relieved… And that gave us back the ability to think clearly as we moved on with our lives.

Fast forward several years to Bruce’s death… This event caught me completely unaware and by surprise. I would never in a million years have guessed this man (who was such a health fanatic) would die so early. I was in complete shock, and the pain literally took my breath away. The world continued to move around me, but I functioned as in a dream. I was going through the motions but with no context or understanding… I couldn’t think at all.

Even this passage which had carried me through so many traumatic events before did not come to my mind for a very long time. In fact, when people suggested I read the Psalms for comfort, I would flip through the pages, but I found nothing there.

I was too lost in my loneliness to find comfort anywhere… I was so angry with God in the beginning… How could I trust Him? How could I believe He had my best interest at heart? Simply put – I didn’t.

It was at least a year, before I could start to open my heart up again to anything spiritual. It started off slow… small steps. It started with music, then small snippets of verses. Over time, I found myself crawling out of the darkness on my hands and knees, and looking for the God who said he loved me… The God who said he would never abandon me…

Then, this verse came back to my mind, and once again, it became my mantra. I was definitely passing through “the valley of the shadow of death,” but learning to “fear no evil” was still a bit hard. Instead, I had to focus on “lying beside still waters,” as I waited for God to “restore my soul.”

It has taken a long time, and I still have days where I struggle. (Don’t we all?) But in my heart, I have come to trust that God is beside me – still loving me and caring for me… Because when I am grieving, I can not do these things for myself… It is too hard. I know I can’t do it alone, but I can do it with God. I don’t believe that means I can’t cry or feel sad. For me, it means God is there beside me… I simply have to make the choice to look for him.

Look up, my child.
I am here…
Don’t look down,
I am not there.
Keep your eyes on me.
Don’t let the clouds block your view.
Look beyond them…
The blue sky is always there,
Even behind the clouds.
Stop focusing on the clouds.
Focus on the sky…
Focus on Me.
Keep Me in your view.
I am here guiding you…
Loving you… always.
~ Linda, September 2015

They say there are certain lessons in life we must learn. If we don’t learn from them the first time, we are destined to go through similar circumstances over and over until we do. For me, I have come to believe that lesson is learning to trust God. That is a hard one for me. I know he has been by my side and seen me through every time.

Yet, there are still times when I struggle. These past couple of weeks with this pandemic has been crazy… Trying to find the balance between being prepared for whatever may come and not panicking or over-doing is hard. Trying to work from home while teaching and entertaining a ten year old boy definitely has its challenges. I would give anything for Bruce’s quiet confidence in all this – to feel his arms around me at night when the darkness brings its own questions and anxieties.

This morning as I started thinking about what to write today, I found myself sinking lower and lower… The grief mixed with all that is unknown right now, started to get to me. In fact, I almost decided not to write at all today (a first) because I didn’t want to think about Bruce. I didn’t want to be reminded of his absence on top of everything else we are dealing with.

Then a couple of things dawned on me… I have been doing exactly what I did when Bruce died – staying busy. So busy, in fact, that I go from the minute I wake up until I fall into my bed at night – to exhausted to move. All of this in an effort to not think about dealing with all of this (without him).

The other thing I remembered was this verse. Suddenly, I couldn’t get it out of my head…

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for He is with me; His rod and His staff, they comfort me. He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”

Honestly, we are all walking through the valley right now. What we need to do is breath… and trust. Does that mean everything will be over just like that? That no one who is praying or believes will get sick? No, God doesno’t make that promise… He just promises to be with us… Walking beside us and feeding our souls.

So, for now, my prayer will be, “God you know what this is… It is in your hands… We are walking in the valley and I am calling on you for comfort. Please show me, my trust in you is good and right… I know this is my lesson… I know this is my struggle… Help me to trust you… Help me to ‘lie down in green pastures’ and ‘beside still waters’… And, please, restore my soul.”

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. We all find answers and comfort in various sources. That is what makes us all unique and different. Admittedly, I usually steer away from religion when I write. I don’t want anyone to think I am trying to preach… That is not my goal here. My only goal today has been to share a poem which has helped me on numerous occasions. It is a source of strength for me.

Do you have something that provides that sense of calmness in the storm? If so, would you share it with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

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… Blessed are Those Who Mourn

So many times since Bruce’s death, I have heard, read or been reminded of the verse from Matthew 5, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” For some reason, there are a lot of people that think that verse should be my “key” to getting over my grief. Yet, for the longest time, every time I encountered it, my inner response was always, “Uh-huh! Right… Whatever.”

Why? Because that verse in and of itself is not comforting. It is about comfort. It is a promise of comfort… But by itself, it is not comforting.

Every time I heard it, all I could think about was how I was not feeling any comfort at all. Instead, that verse felt cold and sterile – like I was supposed to automatically feel better just because of a few words. The thing is those words don’t convey any understanding of what I was feeling. There might be a strand of compassion in them, but I definitely didn’t feel any empathy for where I was emotionally. Instead, it felt a bit dismissive.

For years, though, I have had a gut feeling that there was more to that verse. That somehow, we have been shorted on this one, and this verse is just a condensed version of what Jesus actually said. After all, if there were hundreds of people listening, surely, he spoke long enough to make it worth their while to be there. However, I honestly believe there was more to it even than that… I believe he must have spoken in such a way that the people felt understood… That his words made a difference and moved them somehow.

Then a few years ago, someone sent me a link for a blog called, “The Sarcastic Lutheran,” written by Nadia Bolz-Weber. (I love her stuff, by the way!) In it, she added all the parts that were missing for me. In just a few short sentences, she brought this verse to life for me… When I read it, I felt understood…

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are they for whom death is not an abstraction. Blessed are they who have buried their loved ones, for whom tears are as real as an ocean. Blessed are they who have loved enough to know what loss feels like. Blessed are the mothers of the miscarried. Blessed are they who don’t have the luxury of taking things for granted any more. Blessed are they who can’t fall apart because they have to keep it together for everyone else. Blessed are the motherless, the alone, the ones from whom so much has been taken. Blessed are those who “still aren’t over it yet” Blessed are they who laughed again when for so long they thought they never would. Blessed are Bo’s wife and kids and Billy’s mom and Amy Mac’s friends. Blessed are those who mourn. You are of heaven and Jesus blesses you.”
~ Nadia Bolz-Weber, ”Some Modern Beatitudes—A Sermon for All Saints Sunday” November 6, 2014, from her blog Sarcastic Lutheran.

That one paragraph still makes me smile… It still leaves me feeling comforted every single time I read it. I love it, because when you are grieving there are so many facets to the journey… And there are so many ways to experience the journey. This paragraph gave me the freedom to feel whatever I felt when I felt it, while at the same time, reminding me I wasn’t alone… I am “of heaven and Jesus blesses .” He understands the magnitude of everything I am feeling… and doesn’t judge me for it or tell me to “get over it.” He just comes beside me, takes me in his arms and holds me… through each moment and each emotion. When I feel broken and alone or guilty for having fun, he is right there, holding me up.

I have never met Nadia Bolz-Weber, nor am I likely to. Yet, because of her, I learned just how precious this short, simple verse can be when presented in the light of complete understanding – with more compassion and empathy than I would have ever believed. Because of her, my attitude about my own journey took a turn for the better, as I realized I just needed to be patient with myself. This is my journey – no one else can do it for me, nor are they likely to completely understand me on each and every step… And that’s okay too.

So now, whenever I hear the “Reader’s Digest” version of that verse, I can smile, because I know there is more to it… There is a blessing there, and while it is one I would rather never need, I can take comfort in knowing I am loved and understood… And that really is the blessing!

This is my story this week, but this is our community… a place to share our experiences. How about you? Was there something that you have read or heard that had a positive impact on your journey? Would you be willing to share it with the rest of us? Or maybe you would be willing to share your story or your thoughts… Who knows… your words may hold the answer for someone else. To share your story or thoughts, please go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

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… Triggers

Isn’t it funny how there are some things that just trigger those feelings of grief? Do you know what I am talking about?… Those feelings of “Oh my gosh, I really miss you today.” It’s strange, I know… For goodness sake, it’s been years! How in the world do those overwhelming feelings still manage to take over every rational thought in my head? I wish I had an answer, but I don’t know… They just do.

I know those triggers aren’t the same for all of us… Shoot, even for me, those triggers can change from time to time.

Sometimes it is a song on the radio… There are mornings when I turn on the radio and “our” song is playing. Three or four notes into the intro can find me blubbering like a baby. It makes me crazy… I love to hear it – that song holds so many precious memories within those few minutes. Yet, almost every time it comes on, I cry, because for a few moments I am thrown back to a time when Bruce and I were inseparable. Then, just as suddenly, I am back to reality… a life without the man I love.

Other times, the trigger can be a simple comment made by someone else. Usually it is someone who didn’t know me back then… Someone who doesn’t connect my life now to someone who watched her husband die in her arms. So, a comment gets made about what they would or wouldn’t do if they lost their spouse, or a judgement is made about someone who is currently grieving a loss.

I know they have no idea what they are talking about… I know they are speaking from a place of un-knowing. They have no idea what that kind of loss is like or how they will respond… So, while on the inside I want to scream and tell them what they don’t know – what they can’t know – and how lucky they are not to know… But I don’t… Instead, I just bite my tongue – saying nothing, or if the tears do fill my eyes, I turn away and busy myself with something outside the conversation. I learned long ago, there are some things in life that can’t be understood until you are smack dab in the middle of it, so there is really no point in trying to explain.

Another one that can take my breath away, is when I see someone who from the back looks so much like Bruce. Maybe it is their build, or the way they move, but there is something that catches my eye and for a moment my heart soars. Or… when I am driving down the road and either spot a car just like his or a truck like the one he used to drive. While logically I know it isn’t him – it can’t be… Yet, I still do a double take every time. Hoping against hope to see that grin and tell-tell baseball cap. What if it is him? What if this really is all just a bad dream, and I am finally waking up? But of course, it isn’t him… it never is. It is only a reminder of him… A reminder that he was here, but no more… And the disappointment that follows is always a struggle.

This week, the trigger was one that comes from within… It wasn’t a song or a conversation or a someone’s similarities or a car… Nope, it was all internal… It was all me… and these are usually the ones that hurt the worse. It is something so silly, I am almost too embarrassed to even say it… But I managed to get my feelings hurt. (Sounds five years old, doesn’t it?) But it is what happened, and I am talking about it because I know we all get our feelings hurt sometimes.

The thing is when Bruce was alive and someone hurt my feelings, I knew he was going to be there for me to lean on. All I had to do was look at him, and he knew. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he would gather me in his arms and hold me. He would stroke my hair and tell me it was all going to be okay. And the funny thing was, he had a way of always making me feel like it really was going to be okay… It was us (together) against anything that might try to hurt us. I never felt like I was on my own. I always knew without a doubt that he had my back… and his arms were a safe place to land… always… every time… But not anymore.

Instead, when my world turned dark this week, I was left feeling so absolutely alone. More than anything, I needed to feel his arms around me… I needed to hear him whisper that we were in this together, and it was all going to be okay. I needed him… But he was (and is) the one thing I couldn’t have. So… I cried… I cried because I was hurt and the situation is one where I just have to let it go… I can’t say anything or do anything to make it better… And I was hurting because the one person I needed in this moment, can’t be here… Instead, I am alone.

Yes, I have friends and people who care… and I am eternally greatly for each and every one. However, there are some spaces that only Bruce can fill… But that isn’t to be. So instead, I let myself cry… Then I took a breath (and a glass of wine) and pushed forward… If there is one thing I have learned, it is the fact that wallowing in that sadness will not help… Instead, I need to let it go… I also need to remember that I shouldn’t take things personally. When someone is being hurtful, it is really about them – not me… (Bruce used to remind me of that all the time.)

Today, I am fine… Actually, I was fine by the next morning. It was just another hard moment in time that has passed. It was just another trigger that reminded me it’s okay to feel what I feel… It’s okay to miss him and grieve for him…. However, after that, I need to move on and be strong…

And I’m pretty sure that is what Bruce would want, as well…

This is my story this week, but this is our community… a place to share our experiences. How about you? What are your triggers? How do you get past them? How do you handle them? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts… Who knows… your words may hold the answer for someone else. To share your story or thoughts, please go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

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… From the Outside Looking In

I always write from the perspective of the person grieving, since that is where I am… That is what I know. This blog is simply meant to be a journal (of sorts) of what this journey has been like for me in the hopes that someone else can relate to it and know they aren’t alone. This week, though, I was reminded of what it was like before I was thrust onto this path… before I was the widow feeling lost in a world of grief… Back when I had no idea what grief was all about…

My first marriage lasted 20 years before I finally left. It was a hard decision, but the aggression and violence were only getting worse. We tried counseling for a while. He was diagnosed with several mental health issues for which there was help, but he refused… So, honestly, I gave up. I had to face reality and come to terms with the fact that I couldn’t take all of the responsibility to make that marriage work. For one reason or another, it still took several more years to get divorced. However, that isn’t what this story is about; it is just to give you a timeline.

Throughout this time, I had been a small-town, parochial schoolteacher. I loved my job – the kids, the families, and the staff. These people had become my family, and I loved them dearly. At one point early in our separation, one of the families in our school experienced a great loss. The family consisted of two sweet, wonderful, loving boys, Mom (who was pregnant), and Dad (who was a doctor). I don’t know their whole story, and it isn’t mine to tell.

All I can say with any certainty is that one day the mother started feeling ill, and before anyone could help, she died. It was sudden, and it was awful! The whole town was devastated. All of us did whatever we could to gather around this family in an effort to love and support them. As the school staff, we circled tight around those two young boys with more love than you could ever imagine.

Move forward a couple of years later, I was in the final months before my divorce would be complete. (We had been in the process for well over three years.) This Dad started calling “simply to talk.” It wasn’t just nice, it was easy conversation. After a few weeks, he asked me out, but my divorce wasn’t final. It was set for the following month, but not yet. So, I explained that I couldn’t and why. (Yes, I know there are a lot of people who won’t get that. I’m not judging anyone else or what they do… Just my own personal convictions.)

So, we made plans to go out one week after my divorce would be final. Things went fine… It was a little bit awkward, but that was no surprise to either of us. It was my first date in over 23 years, and he said it was his first date since his wife died.

I didn’t know enough then to understand what that really meant. At the time, I assumed it meant we were in similar situations… However, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Like most people who have never experienced the loss of a spouse, I had no idea what he was going through. To my mind, being divorced was a lot like being a widow, and I had no clue how wrong I was.

Let me start off by saying he was a nice guy. We tried dating for several months, and there were never any negative feelings between us. I have nothing but the greatest respect for him and his family… I just didn’t understand where he was coming from… and he couldn’t seem to explain it.

We had a good time when we were together, and we went out every few weeks. However, there were so many things in the relationship that I just couldn’t understand. For example, on our second date, we went to a popular restaurant in town. I remember sitting down, ordering drinks, and looking at the menus. Suddenly, he had this panicked look on his face. I asked what was wrong, and he just said we needed to leave. Next thing I knew, he put some money on the table for the drinks, took my hand, and led me out a side door. Once outside, he let go of my hand, made a few comments about seeing some of the people he and his late wife used to hang out with, and how he didn’t feel comfortable. After that night, most (not all) of our dates were either on his boat or out of town.

A few months later, he casually mentioned taking me to a BBQ at a friend’s house on the upcoming Saturday. Saturday came and went, but I never heard a thing. A few days later, he called and (just as casually) explained that he had been too busy helping with the BBQ to come get me.

Yes… I am well aware of how this all looks and sounds. As my friend told me at the time, “he’s just not that into you,” which was true… and that was okay… But there was more to it than that.

First, there were very few people who knew we were dating – one of my best friends (who knew everything that went on in our little town), my kids (who did all the babysitting), his housekeeper, and his kids (who were more than eager to talk about our relationship at school). In all honesty, the privacy issue wasn’t just on him… I was nervous about people finding out I was dating, too. I wasn’t interested in being the center of any small-town gossip, so I wasn’t making any big announcements about it either.

I probably should have had a clearer idea of where he was coming from, but I didn’t. After all, throughout his home were reminders of his late wife – not just pictures. I am referring to mementos – special reminders… The same type of things I have all over my own home to remind me of Bruce.

Plus, we had a lot of conversations about his late wife… There were times when he would try to tell me how it felt and how losing her had torn him apart… How his faith didn’t feel adequate anymore, but he still pushed forward because of his boys. I know he was trying to help me understand where he was coming from… But I just didn’t get it. Honestly, I don’t know that anyone can until they have been there.

Instead, from where I stood, it felt like he was embarrassed to be seen with me… Maybe I just wasn’t “good enough.” Of course, now I know that was my own insecurities speaking… My own issues stemming from an abusive marriage, which I had never opened up about to him.

So, why am I telling you all of this today? Because so many times since Bruce died, I have finally understood where this man was coming from…

Through the years, I have listened to people equate being divorced and being a widow(er) or tell me the I should “get back out there.” If you have read anything I wrote back then, you will know these things left me feeling incensed. How dare anyone tell me what I should and shouldn’t do? And no, being divorced is not the same as losing a spouse to death. (I was very angry back then.)

Now, though… Well… Now I feel differently. I guess, life has mellowed me a bit. Now a days, I know people mean well when they say I should date again. Will I? I don’t know… It’s really not a priority for me. I know better than to say “never,” but “not yet” is probably an accurate answer.

If I do, I imagine I will feel like my friend did years ago. I imagine it will be awkward and strange… And the last thing I will want is everyone else watching and giving me their opinions. Now, I totally understand why he behaved the way he did. He just couldn’t explain it in a way I could understand back then.

As far as equating being divorced with losing a spouse to death, I have been through both. Yes, there are some similarities… Both are hard, and both create a deep grief. However, there are also a lot of differences. For me, the biggest difference is in choices.

In a divorce, one person (or both) makes the choice to leave. However, when a spouse dies, there is rarely any choice in the matter. In my first marriage, my ex made his choices, and I had to make mine. When Bruce died, though, neither of us had any choice at all… In a moment, he was just gone.

In a divorce, at least one spouse (if not both) must come to terms with the idea that the other person didn’t (or couldn’t) love enough to make it work… That is a very hard reality. In fact, when I got divorced, that reality was a real struggle for me. For a long time, I was convinced there was no such thing as love… “happily ever after” was a myth.

On the other hand, when your spouse dies, the love is still there. It is not a switch that can simply be flipped off. That love you felt doesn’t just stop because that person is no longer by your side. If a child or a parent dies, no one expects you to stop loving them. So, why can’t the world understand that same idea when it comes to losing a spouse?

I’m not saying you can’t love again. Of course, you can. I have seen it happen many times and it makes me smile every time. I’m just saying it takes a very special person to understand that the love you had before will still continue. Then, somehow, the two of you will need to find a way to embrace all of that love to make it work.

I guess what I am trying to say is for those of you who have not lost a spouse, be patient with those of us who have. Ask questions if you need to, but listen more… We are trying to explain things in the only ways we are able at the time. Remember, this path is new for us too.

On the other hand, if you are a widow(er), be patient with those looking in. Keep in mind, they have no idea what this path is like. I truly believe they are trying… and I will bet you, they mean well.

One last thought… While I am pretty sure he will never see this, I want to say a special “thank you” to my friend from years ago. At the time, I felt like dating you was a “safe” way to re-enter the dating world. So, I not only thank you for that, but for so much more. You see, I had no idea at the time, but I was learning a lot from you… Things I wish I never needed, but I did. From you, I learned a lot about death and grief… about not giving up and surviving when you don’t think you can. I learned it was okay to question my faith and figure it out my way. And most importantly, I learned that wherever life takes me, it’s okay to take my time and do it my way.

This is my story this week, but this is our community… a place to share our experiences. How about you? Can you remember ever being on the outside looking in? Have you been able to remember what that was like as you ago through your current situation? How do you handle it? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts… Who knows… your words may hold the answer for someone else. To share your story or thoughts, please go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

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… Valentine’s Day: A Day with the Lions

Courage…

I’m trying so hard to be brave…
But I don’t feel brave.

I don’t want to face tomorrow.
I don’t want to wake up alone.
I don’t want another day without you.

I am so thankful for the memories.
I just wish they weren’t memories…
I wish they were now…

~ Linda, February 13, 2015

Earlier this week as I started thinking about what I wanted to write, I knew it would be hard. Anyone grieving knows that holidays are always hard… and this week’s holiday was one specifically designed for lovers and soulmates. How was I going to write anything that might help or encourage anyone? I wasn’t feeling it. My first thought was to just keep it simple and share some highlights from my journal. However, that all changed when received a meme with a reminder that made me laugh. Let me explain…

With my first marriage, I converted to the Roman Catholic faith and even spent many years teaching in a wonderful, small town, Catholic school. One of the things I loved about the church were the Saints and their stories. According to the tradition I was taught, St. Valentine was thrown to the lions by the Romans as punishment for performing Christian marriages for Roman soldiers.

That story always stuck with me and my kids. In fact, somewhere through the years we started calling Valentine’s Day, “Don’t-Get-Eaten-By-Lions” Day. Don’t ask me why. We weren’t trying to be sacrilegious; it is just our silly brand of humor. So, when I saw the meme and a message that said, “And don’t get eaten by lions.” I laughed… Just that thought holds such precious memories for me. However, on Valentine’s morning, I woke up and realized (once again) that those “lions” are real.

My first “lion” greeted me as soon as I woke up. I had just dreamed that Bruce and I were riding in his truck talking and laughing. It was wonderful! (I love those dreams, and I cherish every one of them when they come along.) When the alarm went off, I didn’t want to wake up. I was so happy in my dream. I just wanted to stay there… forever… just holding his hand and laughing with him. But all dreams end, and I had to wake up.

All morning, all I could think about was how much I miss Bruce… I would give anything to be in his arms again where I always felt loved and secure. I didn’t want to face the reality of the day… I didn’t want to face yet another Valentine’s Day alone.

Don’t get me wrong, people are wonderful and always send me reminders that I am loved and not alone – candy, cookies, flowers. I cannot begin to express how much I appreciate their genuine kindness on such a tough day. In fact, this year one of my daughters and her fiancé even went so far as to rename the day “Madre-tine Day.” They gave up a romantic night alone and took me out so I wouldn’t be alone… So, I’m not kidding – I really do feel loved. However, that morning was still a bit tough as I strove to face my reality… I knew it was time to face the “lions” around me.

People respond to death in different ways, and I realize that some people may believe I should be “over this” by now… Some may feel I should be used to being alone by this time, while others may just be uncomfortable with my grief. I get it… But I am who I am and I feel what I feel… My reality is my reality and I am the one that has to figure it out. Honestly, the reality is loss doesn’t come with an “off” switch for love. I wish it did, but it doesn’t… And on this day, I had to face the “lions.”

So… What were my lions that I needed to face? For me, it was spending a day that is all about love without the one person who loved me completely… that felt like the emotional equivalent of being in the lions’ den. My problem was I had to decide if it was worth the effort to fight for survival or just give up and be consumed by the sadness I felt.

I always start my day with meditation and reflection. So, as I lay there quietly reflecting, I decided to focus on the love around me. Shoot, even if it wasn’t directed at me, it is still a beautiful thing to behold. Each time I saw someone receiving flowers or a couple embracing, I found myself smiling as I thought about Bruce and I. Even if Bruce wasn’t here – even if I am alone, this could still be a day about us and the love we still share.

There have been years when I have bought myself a present “from Bruce.” Not this year, though. This year I knew I had already received the best gift I would ever get – my dream… time and laughter with Bruce. There was no need for anything more since nothing could compare with that.

So, throughout the day, I decided to breathe and seek clarity as I needed it. I decided not to fight or run from the “lions” around me. Instead, I took the time to stop, breathe and separate my sadness from my truth… And honestly, the day ended up being quite wonderful. Dinner was absolutely fantastic. In fact, as I reflected on the night, and how spoiled and completely loved, I was feeling I realized something…

Love is not chocolates or roses or teddy bears… And it is not bound to only one day. No… Love is in the little moments. And I am learning that it is never-ending… It is constant throughout time.

I will always remember you, Babe. I will always celebrate us. Just like my dream, our love existed in the simplest moments of time spent together laughing, smiling and just enjoying each other… that is love. Because I still feel your love, I can choose to slow down, remember and draw on the strength of those beautiful moments together. There is a peace there I will always treasure.

So, I chose peace this year… I chose to ignore the “lions,” and submerge myself in love – not just ours, but all of the love around me.

This is my story this week, but this is our community… a place to share our experiences. How did your Valentines Day go without your loved one? How did you handle it? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts… Who knows… your words may hold the answer for someone else. To share your story or thoughts, please go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

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… One More Would Not be Enough

Hi Babe,

Missing you… It seems like I say that a lot. It’s true, though. There are so many moments when I think, “Bruce would love this,” or happy times I would love to share with you. Then, there are those moments of sadness or self-doubt when I would give anything to feel your arms around me and hear you whisper, “It’s gonna be okay,” “We’ve got this,” or just simply “I love you.”

Oh… What I wouldn’t give to hear those words again. I would say, “… to hear them one more time,” but truthfully, one more time probably wouldn’t be enough. I really want to hear them over and over.

I remember when we were dating and trying to say our goodbyes at the end of another beautiful weekend together. You would always play Diamond Rio’s song, “One More Day.” As it played, you would hold me close, and we both cried… the thought of saying “Goodbye” for even two or three weeks felt like an eternity. (I wish that were all!) Even now, those lines still ring true for me:

“One more day, one more time,
One more sunset, maybe I’d be satisfied.
But then again,
I know what it would do,
Leave me wishing still for one more day with you.”

Boy, is that true! One more kiss… one more “I love you” … one more moment with you… None of it would be enough. It wasn’t enough back then, when we only had to say goodbye for a few weeks, and it wouldn’t be enough now when goodbye feels like forever. I love you so much, I think I will always just want more… And that’s where I am… constantly wishing you were here… for more.

“Grief had become her silent sidekick. She felt its shadow beside her all the time. She knew that if she turned toward that darkness just once, embraced it as she longed to, she’d be lost.”
~ Kristin Hannah, Winter Garden

I read that a few weeks ago, and thought, “Yep… that’s me too.” I guess this constant wishing for you, thinking of you, missing you – all of it… is still simply my grief. Grief has become my constant companion that I try to ignore, because giving into it, acknowledging it, gets me nowhere. It only leads to spiraling down into that dark space deep inside… that space I don’t dare go to, because it is too hard to crawl back out from.

So instead, I let those thoughts flow in and out of my mind without lingering on them. Some days, I actually push them out to avoid the thoughts and emotions that lay underneath them. I don’t dare dwell on it… or talk about it too often.

That probably sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it, Babe?

But I don’t think I’m alone in this. I think anyone who has loved as we loved, and then lost that person, knows exactly what I am talking about. I think there are a lot of us walking around. Each day, we are smiling at the world, trying to enjoy each moment, because we know how precious they are… We know the moment we are in is the only one we are promised, and we don’t want to waste it wishing for something that will never be.

We don’t want to give up… yet, somewhere deep inside there is still a love that will never be silenced… A love we cannot stop… A love that will go on and on, no matter how much time passes.

So call it grief or call it unending love… Whatever it is, I can’t seem to let go… Instead, I just have to remind myself that our time will come again… Because of my faith, I believe the time will come when we will have one day more…

I love you, Babe – Always and forever!

This is my story this week, but this is our community… a place to share our experiences. Do you ever wish for one more ______ with your loved one? How do you handle it? Or maybe you would like to share your story or your thoughts… There is no one right answer. Who knows… your words may hold the answer for someone else. To share your story or thoughts, please go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

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