mourn – Page 22 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief – Grief is Grief… And That’s Okay

“Grief is the pain you feel when you lose something you care about.” – Dr. John Delony, Dave Ramsey Show

Listening to Dave Ramsey is something I do when I am in the car. Bruce introduced me to his financial plan when we were first married, and I was hooked immediately. Because of his plan, I paid off our home in eight years and should be set to retire on time despite the financial set-backs in my 40’s.

So why am I talking about Dave Ramsey here? Because the other day when I tuned in, he was talking to Dr. John Delony about “Dealing with the Disappointment of Canceled Plans and Missed Milestones,” a recent blog on his website.* Now, I will just warn you, while he has great financial advice, in my opinion, Dave doesn’t come across as the nicest guy on the block… To put it bluntly, I would never call into his show, because he scares me. However, when he is talking calmly, I truly like what he has to say.

So, when I tuned in, the first thing I heard was the quote above. Grief? Why in the world was “grief” being discussed on a financial program? I missed the beginning so I honestly couldn’t tell you, but what they were saying definitely struck a cord with me. They were discussing all the things we are missing out on due to the current pandemic situation. (Don’t worry… I’m not getting political here.) Dave was saying how disappointed he was about the milestones and vacations his family had missed out on. Then, he went to say how guilty he felt about that, especially when so many people are dealing with things that are much, much worse, such as losing jobs, no income, illness and death.

Honestly, I could relate to that too. I was very disappointed when I had to cancel my April trip I had planned for Bruce’s birthday. I made staying home work, but I was still disappointed. The thing was, I felt silly being so disappoint for the very reasons he named.

Then, Dr. Delony reiterated and said, “Don’t feel guilty… You feel what you feel… Grief is the pain you feel when you lose something you care about. That thing might be a trip or missing a milestone or it might even be a death.” He talked about how it wasn’t a competition… Grief is Grief… You feel what you feel and that’s okay.

Boy was he right! I immediately began to think back to those days shortly after Bruce died…

Back then, while some people may have said things that really weren’t helpful, for the most part, I know they meant well. I know their hearts were in the right place, and mostly, I have forgotten about them. However, there were some things said that to this day still get under my skin. Those were the comments where comparisons about grief were made… Where I was made to feel that I wasn’t valid to be grieving because “obviously” someone else had it worse.

One of the first ones I encountered was when someone asked me how I was doing. I responded that “this” was hard. I was okay, but still missing Bruce terribly. Then, they asked how Bruce’s Mom was doing. I responded that I thought she was struggling… Burying your own child is a horrific thing that no one should ever have to do. To all of this, the person responded, “You two need to remember that y’all are not the only ones to ever lose someone you love.” (Of course, as they said this, their spouse stood by their side and all their children were alive and well.)
Seriously? Were they really saying that we shouldn’t grieve because we weren’t the only ones to ever lose someone we love?? What kind of response is that? Because our loss isn’t something new or different, it wasn’t valid?? That was ridiculous!

There was another incident about 3 months after Bruce passed. The son of a sweet friend was killed in a motorcycle accident. It was horrible! He was young and full of life. Then, on a beautiful afternoon, as he was stopped at a stop sign, a truck took a turn too wide and hit him. He hung on for several days as we all prayed and his mother stayed by his side… But sadly, he didn’t make it. My friend’s grief and pain were too much… To say it was awful would be a huge understatement.

Yet, a few days later, someone came up to me and said, “Well, your grief can’t be nearly as much as hers. You only lost your husband. You can get remarried. She can never replace her son.” I was stunned! First of all, who ever said grief was a competition? No one else has any idea how deep another person’s pain is… And just for the record… No one can be replaced… ever!

My friend has another son… does he “replace” the son she lost? Of course not! My first child was still-born. Did my other children “replace” that tiny baby boy? No! At this point, I haven’t dated, but even if I did, would that person really replace Bruce? Never! That is a ludicrous idea! Each person in our lives holds a special place in our heart that only they can fill – you can’t replace them!

A few years ago, I noticed a friend at work wiping tears from her eyes. So, I asked if she was okay. She wasn’t… Her dog, who had been her only companion for many years had died the day before. Then she told me that she felt silly asking for time off to grieve her dog. Plus, she “felt terrible crying to me because I had lost my husband, while she had ‘only’ lost her dog.” I remember holding her and reassuring her that her loss was just as important and painful for her as mine had been for me… There was no judgement – only a friend caring for a friend who was hurting.

Which brings me back to the idea of comparing grief… Don’t! That’s really all I can say… Don’t!

It’s a horrible thing to do. All of us lose things that are important to us… Sometimes it is a thing, such as a canceled trip, a missed event, or a special reminder of a day gone by… Sometimes it is a job or our home or the security of our family… Maybe it is a pet or a friend or a loved one who either walks out of our life voluntarily, or maybe they pass away. Yes… for each of us, some of these things may hurt more or longer than other things. However, we don’t know what is in someone else’s heart… Even if we knew the person they lost, our relationship with that person would have been different, so we still have no way of knowing their pain.

So… I guess my point is don’t deny anyone – you or someone else – the chance to grieve. It is an important part of healing and/or coming to a peaceful place about the loss… Whatever that loss may be. Own your grief and allow others to own theirs… If you must do something try supporting each other… loving each other… And just allow the grief to run its course naturally. I believe that is the best way to help someone heal and move forward.

* https://www.daveramsey.com/blog/how-to-deal-with-disappointment

Peace, Love and Grief… And It’s Mother’s Day Again

Happy Mother’s Day!

I cannot tell you how much I used to hate those words… After the chaos of my first marriage, I carried way to much guilt to feel like I should be celebrated at all. My kids had to deal with so much crap within that chaos, and I couldn’t bear the idea of any of them telling me “thank you” for their childhood or for being their mom. I made so many mistakes when they were growing up, and I struggled to forgive myself.

This was a struggle for me for years, although my kids would always disagree. For whatever reason, they seem to understand so many of the decisions I made back then… And they stood strong when we left. Through the years, we had learned to survive as a team, and when we left, that only intensified. In other words, my kids are amazing! They are the reason I can toast today and still smile.

It’s funny, though… Because when I look back, the first Mother’s Day with Bruce is another that will always stand out. Not just because it was my first Mother’s Day with Bruce, but because of the healing that he encouraged through his love…

We had only known each other a little over a year and had only been married for a few months. I had absolutely no expectations for the day. After all, I wasn’t his mother or the mother of his child. Yes, when he married me, that was a package deal which included my children, but three of the four were over 18. My youngest was the only one that lived with us… and at the time, she wasn’t very happy about that.

I remember waking up that Sunday morning, and the sun was shining in Michigan – something we hadn’t seen in months. As we lay in the bed snuggling, he reached over the edge and produced a small card which he handed to me with a mischievous grin. I remember handing it back and saying, “Don’t.” I wasn’t crying or upset, I just wanted to ignore the day. I didn’t want anyone to celebrate me… But he wasn’t having any of that.

I protested and said, “You don’t have to do this… My being a mother has nothing to do with you.” To which he replied, “You’re being a mother is a huge part of who you are, and that has everything to do with me. I will always celebrate who you are, because I love you… And that means all of you.”

I remember the card talked about his love for me and my love for my kids. I remember the tears pouring down my face as I read it, and in the end, he had to read it to me. Inside, was a receipt for three tickets to go see The Phantom of the Opera that afternoon (Bruce, my youngest daughter and myself) … Tickets? To the Opera?? From Bruce???

Now, I need to explain a little bit about Bruce. He made no pretense about who he was. He was a truck driver who loved body building, football and hockey. He was not a fan of the theater, especially musicals or opera. The idea that a man had gone outside of his own comfort zone to give me (and participate in) something that was solely about me was something I had never experienced before.

I remember being skeptical – Would he really go? Was he going to take me but ruin it because it really wasn’t anything he would ever want to do? … I questioned all of it.

However, true to who he was, it was the most wonderful afternoon! He made it a true event – nothing was off limits… and to top it all off, he swore he loved and enjoyed it, as well! Whether that last part was really true or not, I’ll never know. He always swore it was, and so I will take him at his word.

Every year after that, Bruce always made it a point to celebrate me on Mother’s Day. It didn’t matter where we were or what life had thrown our way, he always made sure we spent the day doing something I loved. After he died, that first Mother’s Day was hard. I didn’t want to celebrate… I found myself going back to those feelings old of guilt about my children’s past. But I must say, my kids wouldn’t have it. They did and continue to make this day a special one…

And this year was no different…

A couple of years ago, I was just diagnosed with breast cancer and didn’t know what my future would hold, or if I would even see another Mother’s Day… But here I am – sassy as ever and loving life! And… In less than an hour, I will be celebrating with three of my four children. (My oldest lives in Europe, so we will talk this afternoon. Thanks to technology!)

I am so grateful to my kids for the joy and love they add to my life. I know that each moment we live is the only one we are promised. Life is crazy with its twists and turns… You just never know what lies ahead. In other words, life has its own way, and all we can do is go along for the ride. I can’t change what was nor what is ahead. I can only live in this moment… soaking it all in and remembering to be thankful for what it is…

Everyone deals with loss, grief, and life in their own way. There are pieces of our past we might change if we could. However, since we can’t change any of that, we can either get caught up in the stuff we don’t like or choose to find moments worth celebrating. Bruce taught me to celebrate and let the rest go… We don’t need to always be happy, and it’s okay to feel what we feel and be who we are… This is how life was meant to be – learning to let go of what feels wrong and celebrating the good.

These are only my thoughts and reactions this week as I celebrate this day without Bruce. Maybe something in this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have struggled something similar. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

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

* 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… 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

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… 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… To Those Who are Gone

While I have my artsy, creative side and my messy spaces, for the most part, I like order. Yes, I like “stuff,” but there is an order to the stuff. Each item has an order and belongs in a certain place (and in a certain way). I am also a “list person.” It brings me great satisfaction to check the items off as each one is completed. For example, the paper towels need to sit a certain way on the holder, and the toilet paper needs to roll from the top. Even my clothes in the closet are arranged by clothing type and color. Shoot, even the little men on the Foosball table need to be lined up just right.

I know it sounds a bit crazy, and Bruce used to laugh at my “nerdiness,” but it’s just me. Honestly though, I won’t say anything to anyone if they do it different, (I don’t expect or want everyone to be like me). It’s just when I notice something “out of place” in my own home, I’ll put it back the way I like it. I don’t know why… It’s just the way I am built.

All of this, I know, is really a control thing. Maybe it comes from raising four children pretty much by myself. Or maybe it is a by-product of many theater productions with over 200 children on stage. Or maybe it is the result of a chaotic first marriage where so much was out of control. Who knows? It just is what it is.

Bruce used to laugh. Sure, even he was particular about some things… But, for the most part, he was fine with “whatever,” or at least that was how it appeared to me. He was always telling me that “the river doesn’t try to move the rocks. Instead, it flows around them with no effort.”

I would laugh. Those were nice thoughts, but that was him – not me. Honestly, I just let it go in one ear and out the other… That is, until he was gone.

The day he died was awful! My world came crashing down around me in just a few moments. My world went from love and laughter and dreams to being alone and feeling completely abandoned. I had no control on what had just happened or what might happen next… Everything was spinning out of my grasp, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I’m sure you can guess one of the first things I did… Yep, I did some research and made a list – a list of all the things that would “help me get through this grief.” In my naivete, I honestly thought I could go through this list, complete each item, and things would be better… I would feel better. I wouldn’t feel this awful grief anymore.

I should have known better, but I didn’t. Everything I knew about loss and death was more from Hollywood than real life… But I learned quite quickly that none of it was true. There was no checklist on earth – no list of things I could do – that could heal the hole left in my soul. Even time on its own couldn’t healed this empty space in my heart.

But over time, I have learned some things…

After Bruce died, I started reading the books he read, and listening to the speakers he listened to. (In fact, I still do.) At the time, I was trying to know him better… I was trying to understand the man he was and how he thought.

A funny thing happened, though. I started paying attention, and for the first time, I actually wanted to learn “how to flow around the rocks.” At first it seemed impossible. It was all so foreign to me.

I kept thinking I needed Bruce’s help. I didn’t think I could figure this out on my own. When he was here, he understood me and how I thought. He knew how to help me relax a little bit and just “enjoy the ride.” But trying to do that alone… without him… Well, that just seemed like a daunting task.

However, as time went on, I did find myself changing… When I looked back, bit by bit, I could see small changes. You see, every time I read one of those books or listened to one of those speakers; I learned something new. Each time, I found myself making a small change here or there… Each time I got a little better at letting another thing go and living in the moment… In other words, I was learning “how to flow around the rocks” and “enjoy the ride” once again.

It has been a long, slow road, but I am moving forward. Then, this week in my reading, I came across this…

“… A family wasn’t a static thing. There were always changes going on, like with continents, sometimes the changes were invisible and underground, and sometimes they were explosive and deadly. The trick was to keep your balance. You couldn’t control the direction of your family any more than you could stop the continental shelf from breaking apart. All you could do was hold on for the ride.” ~ Kristin Hannah, Winter Garden

Boy! This spoke volumes to me… When Bruce was alive, I didn’t want our time together to ever end. In fact, I couldn’t even imagine it. So, when it did happen, I was shocked… I couldn’t even breathe. I wanted so badly for things to go back to the way they had been… To wake up and find this was all just a bad dream… But that didn’t happen.

Through the years that followed, I have tried so hard to stay in control of my world… To never let it fall apart like that again… To minimize my risk of ever hurting like that again… To keep my family close and love them enough… Because then, maybe, I won’t lose them too. Of course, these ate all things I can’t control… All things I need to let go…

So here I sit, trying to figure out where to go from here. I think this is simply another step in my journey… Another moment of growth for me. Honestly, I don’t know what it will mean. I doubt there will be any drastic changes, because each lesson has been baby steps so far.

Yet, I believe, it will mean opening up a little bit more to life and what it offers… Being thankful for those who fill my world and enjoying every moment with them.

I am so thankful for all Bruce has taught me from our time back then, up to now, and even into tomorrow… I am so thankful that because of his legacy, I haven’t just given up. Instead, I want to honor him and all those I love (here and gone) by remembering to love this life and all who have crossed my path…

“To those who are here, those who are gone, and those who are lost.” ~ Kristin Hannah, Winter Garden

This is my story this week, but this is our community… a place to share our experiences. How about you? How are you moving forward? Where are your struggles and your successes? 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.

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