Tag: grief journey

Peace, Love and Grief… Time to Be Grate

“Gratitude isn’t a natural response to adversity;
It’s a discipline you develop.”
~ Unknown

Thanksgiving has always been a “family” holiday in my mind. Our family has always come together to celebrate… For us, the day is centered on great conversations, playful banter, sharing stories, laughter and love. Growing up, my family always spent the day at one of my grandparents’ homes. I loved playing with my cousins and listening to the grown-ups talk into the late hours of the night.

My first husband was military, and we lived too far away from either of our families to celebrate the day with them. So, the day was spent with friends and strangers who would have otherwise spent the day alone. Everyone pitched in and the day was spent sharing what we had… food, stories and friendships.

When Bruce and I were first married, we were living in Michigan, so we usually spent the day with his family… until we moved to Florida, that is. However, even then, we seemed to always have someone in the family with us for Thanksgiving… even if only for a few hours.

But when Bruce died everything changed…

That first Thanksgiving came ten months after Bruce passed away. At that point, I’m not sure if I was just still too numb or if the pain was still too raw… Or a combination of both. I do, however, remember I couldn’t bring myself to celebrate anything. Life had thrown me a curve ball, and I didn’t feel thankful about anything. I was still hurting too much, and the idea of celebrating a “family” holiday, when the person I loved was gone… well… that was more than I could handle.

So instead, I ignored the holiday, and spent the day at a theme park with my youngest daughter and her friend. At this point, memories of that day have faded into a blur. However, I know it created the distraction I needed, while still allowing me to spend time with someone I love.

The next year, I decided it was time to join the rest of the world and celebrate… It was time to try and say “Thank you” again. I was still hurting, but I wanted to spend time with family and loved ones, so I spent a very quiet holiday with one of my daughters and her family. It was a wonderfully, simple holiday – a very good way to ease back into the idea of celebrating without Bruce. A good portion of the day was spent just breathing, and no one pushed me to do more than I felt ready to handle. There were smiles and laughter, and with love and support, I did it… In fact, by the end of the day I knew exactly what I was thankful for – the love of my family.

The third year, I got a little bit braver again… This was the year I traveled to merry old England to spend the holiday with my oldest daughter and her husband. A first it seemed so odd to celebrate Thanksgiving in a country that does not share this holiday.

We had a lovely time shopping for a “bird” and “American” ingredients which were nearly impossible to find. Yet, everyone else seemed eager to pitch in… They were so curious and more than happy to help us find all the “traditional foods” we needed for our feast. The day itself couldn’t have been better! It was beautiful… another quiet celebration filled with love and laughter… and a few tears… But once again, I was reminded of what I have to be grateful for… the people I love.

The next year was different again. My daughter and grandson had moved in with me just a few months earlier, and he was spending Thanksgiving with his father in another state. It felt strange and wrong… There was definite grieving for a family (and a tradition) gone. It was my daughter’s first holiday without her little Bubba, and for reasons I completely understood, we chose to spend the holiday traveling rather than celebrating with the traditional family feast.

The day was quiet, the beach was soothing, and the company was loving… That year, once again, it was a holiday to be “survived” rather than “enjoyed.” I missed Bruce, and we both missed having our little Bubba to make us smile and give us hugs. I’m not sure how, but we made it through… So grateful to be a family again at the end of the weekend.

In the years following, I have not only gotten braver, I am genuinely grateful for the many blessings in my life. Our family has gone back to old traditions with an old fashioned, “everyone’s coming” Thanksgiving. My daughter and I spend days cooking and cleaning in preparation. We make all the traditional foods my children grew up eating. Then, we throw in a few games for laughter and entertainment.

I have to be honest, though, this time of year is still hard… Why? Because this is the time of year where the focus is on family. And while I have a wonderful family, for me there will always be someone missing… Bruce. It breaks my heart all over again every time I think about it. Then add in the part about being grateful, and the struggle gets just a little bit harder.

For years when I read the verse, from 1 Thessalonians, “Be thankful in all circumstances,” I couldn’t understand it. How in the world could I be thankful for this? Why would God ask this from me? I couldn’t understand… And I couldn’t do it.

This year, though, I realized my mistake… It doesn’t say “for all circumstances.” It says “in all circumstances.” In other words, I’m not expected to be thankful for the loss of Bruce. (God understands and joins me in my pain.) What he is asking of me is to be able to find things I am grateful for, even IN my grief… And I have found that I can do that just fine.

So this month I have been making time each day to be grateful… making time to look around at all the things I take for granted and truly see the many blessings all around me…

First and foremost, I am alive. Despite two bouts with cancer in 18 months, I am still here to enjoy all the other blessings I am surrounded by. Because he lives with me, I get to watch my grandson grow up, not to mention the very special bond we have developed over the past few years. Because most of my family lives within a few hours’ drive, I get to spend a good bit of time with them, especially my kids and my sister. Each morning, I am blessed to watch the sunrise, and each evening, to watch it set. I am able to laugh… and run… and enjoy life moment by moment.

If there is one thing I learned when Bruce died, it was how short and unpredictable life is. Through the years since then, I have learned that many of the things I thought were important before, really aren’t. In the past, I wasted time worrying or being upset about things that either never happened, don’t matter now or aren’t even remembered anymore.

All of this craziness that I call “my life” is a gift I couldn’t appreciate a few years ago. This life is a gift I wasn’t sure I would continue to experience a year ago… But it is my gift, and I have learned that life, love, and living each moment in a state of gratitude is what is important… It is about taking the time to be grateful each and every day.

“Gratitude is an attitude you choose,
Not a reaction to your circumstances.”
~ Unknown

What about you? Does any of this strike a chord with you? How do you handle family holidays? Have you always been able to be grateful or have you struggled with being grateful? Maybe you have found a different way to cope… There is no one right answer. Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

NOTE: Due to family time, I will be off schedule next week. I will be taking next week off in order to spend the weekend with my family. Thank you for understanding my need to enjoy my precious time with those I love.

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… A Sad Day

Sometimes it really does seem like when it rains, it pours…

If you read this blog with any regularity, then you are probably already aware that this is a rough time of year for me emotionally. It’s not just the holidays… There are a lot of special days, as well. For example, just last week was Bruce’s and my wedding anniversary.

You may also remember that just a few weeks ago, our little family lost one of our cats, Duffy. Well, in the days since then, our oldest cat, Frogmore, has been on a steady decline…

He and Duffy had been together since Bruce and I got married. That means they had been together, day and night, for about 14 years, and he has very obviously missed her. While before, you would never have guessed he was such an old cat, this week has left no doubt.

Watching this decline, we are pretty sure Duffy was the one taking care of him. Almost immediately, we began to notice little things… For example, he couldn’t hear us… If we wanted him to come to us, we had to find him. We also realized that his sight became limited to shadows, at best, which means he couldn’t see at all in the dark.

Up until this week, he still seemed to be managing. However, this week has brought on a distinct difference. First of all, he was eating and drinking a lot less than normal. Also, his back legs were giving out from under him every few steps. Earlier this week, my daughter placed a shoe box on the ground, and that quickly became his second favorite place to be… As he lay in it, the sides would hold him up so he could still see what was going on around him. This is where he spent his days while we were at work and school.

Once we got home, however, all he wanted was to be in my arms… I could stand or sit, he didn’t care. He just wanted to lay his head on my arm, and every so often he would reach up with his arm and pull me closer into a hug. On the one hand, I loved it, and on the other, it broke my heart.

I think he knew his time was growing short… And I just wanted to breathe him in for as long as possible…

Frogmore was right at 20 years old. When my second daughter was a teenager, he was found as a kitten outside the store where she worked. The local Voodoo priestess had presented the kitten to her, with simple instructions to “love him.” He was immediately named for the sleepy town where we lived, Frogmore.

Throughout her last years of high school, she and Frogmore were inseparable. He slept on her pillow and brought her “gifts” of whatever he had hunted that day. She took care of him day and night, even through relentless cancer treatments in the early days.

Only once did he run away… My daughter had just left for college, and I would swear, he went looking for her. From that day forward, though, Frogmore has been by my side. He moved to Michigan (where he met Bruce’s cat, Duffy) and back here to Florida. He was the Winnie the Pooh of cats, with a heart of gold, a love of food and completely at peace with life.

We have had many pets through the years. Most of them died on their own – of natural causes or old age. Yet, this isn’t the first time we have had to make this decision. The first time was many years ago with our boxer. She had Lymphoma, and I hate to admit it, but we waited too long. She was in great pain and unable to move by the time we were able to let her go. It was totally selfish on our part, and not fair to her. With Duffy, we had no idea she was in any distress until we came home that day. With Frogmore, I wanted to do better.

So today, we said, “Goodbye.”

In theory, it sounds so simple… But it isn’t. It wasn’t an easy decision, and in fact, I have put it off a few times because I just couldn’t. However, I didn’t want him to suffer… I didn’t want something to happen and have him lay for hours waiting for us to get home. I didn’t want him to be in any more pain… In other words, it was probably one of the hardest decisions I have made, but I wanted to do right by him.

So here I sit – crying…

I know he was a cat… But he has been a part of this family for 20 years, and my heart is breaking. He has been by my side through so many milestones and pain points. He grieved with me when Bruce died, and I know he has grieved the loss of Duffy, (probably even more than we have). And now, today, we are grieving him…

Thank you, Frogmore, for always being here… For loving me through thick and thin… You will be missed more than you know, and I will love you always and forever!

What about you? I know I am writing about a pet today, but have you been here too? All of the pets Bruce and I shared are gone, and it is like another bridge to Bruce has closed. If you know what I mean, please share your story. This is OUR community, and I would love to hear from you. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

* 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… Celebrating Our Anniversary

This week held our anniversary. Rather than writing something new, I think the best words to describe how I feel are the ones I wrote to Bruce…

Hi Babe!

Happy Anniversary! Fourteen years… Wow! Today marks the date when I have celebrated just as many anniversaries alone as we did together… That feels really strange… I can’t even wrap my head around it.

Yesterday I woke up crying and had to fight the tears all day. Everything seemed to remind me of you, and the idea of celebrating alone… again… was just too much for this heart to bear. Plus, the weather has matched my mood – dark clouds and overcast all day yesterday and rain all night. This morning there has been a lot of dark clouds and drizzle with small breaks of sunshine… just like the way I am feeling – sad and crying, yet, so joyful to have experienced our love and wanting to celebrate that.

I went for a walk on the beach where your ashes were scattered, just to talk to you for a while. (Now, I am just sitting out here writing to you.) Sometimes it feels like you are right here beside me… I would swear I can hear you and almost feel your touch. But then, I look around, and I am all alone. Today, there is absolutely no one else out here… Just you and I. I suppose it is because of the weather, but it’s nice to be just the two of us.

The ocean is so wild today. There are so many waves, and they are crashing in on themselves in a fury… Maybe that is just a little bit of what I am feeling too.

I keep thinking of so many memories of us here on this beach… So many Sundays spent holding hands and watching the waves for hours. There was a magic here for us, that still lingers… I miss that… I miss you!

Sometimes I wonder if this “missing you” will ever stop. I wonder if my life will ever feel whole again. Or if I will always feel like the rudder is missing, and I am just drifting.

I truly can’t believe it’s been fourteen years since we were married. I’ll always remember that day… How nervous we both were to be doing this marriage thing again – something we had both sworn we would never do again. I remember the night before… I was terrified! I kept thinking about my first marriage – all the chaos and abuse… and how I had lost myself somewhere in the struggle to keep peace and just survive. The idea that it could happen again was terrifying!

I remember you holding me close and telling me we didn’t to get married… We could just be together… You told me that you loved me and that was that. We didn’t need a piece of paper or anyone else’s approval for that. Looking back, I think that was all I needed to hear – a reassurance that it was a choice, and you would always love me… either way.

I remember every moment of the next day. Going to the town where you grew up to eat lunch, buying our wedding champagne flutes to toast our big day, setting up for a mini-reception at the condo, getting dressed, going to the courthouse waiting what felt like forever for our turn with the judge, your Dad joking with us and trying to ease our nerves, our families being there to support us, and… the actual ceremony.

I remember holding your hands and looking into your eyes the entire time. (It was as if no one else were even there… Just the two of us in that moment.) You held my gaze and filled my heart with peace knowing this was right… That feeling has never left me.

Marrying you was the best decision I ever made, and I will celebrate this day for the rest of my life!

I love you, Babe – Always and Forever!
Me

What about you? How do you handle those special days of the year? Do you celebrate? Do you cry? Do you have mixed emotions? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts? Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

* 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… Some things still hurt…

I have put off writing this week until the last minute… Mainly because every time I start thinking about what to write, I can feel the tears start in the back of my eyes. And to be honest, I don’t want to cry. Things in my life aren’t just good, they are pretty great!

In just a few short weeks, three of my four kids will be living within two hours, something I never thought would happen in this lifetime. Also, my grandson will be with us for Thanksgiving this year. So, we are planning a family gathering with as many of us as can drive this far. In other words, God is good, and I know I am blessed beyond understanding!!

Since this will be our family’s only holiday gathering, we are setting up all the Christmas decorations. (Yes, it is crazy early, but Thanksgiving will also be our Christmas, so this is what we do.) Yesterday, I unpacked several (about six) bins of Christmas decorations (with Christmas music playing, of course). Today, I will unload about the same again, and my grandson is filled with excitement writing and talking about his Christmas Wish List.

… But me? I’m just not feeling it… All I keep thinking about is another holiday season without Bruce…

Throughout my life I have joked about things I “wouldn’t wish on anyone.” For instance, when my second daughter suffered from colic as an infant, or when my son went through his “let-me-take-everything-I-touch-apart” phase. I knew these were phases… I knew there would be an end… In the moment, they were difficult, and it was hard to remember there would be a light at the end of the tunnel.

However, grief is one of those things I really wouldn’t wish on anyone… Not only is it difficult, there is no light at the end of the tunnel… Your loved one is not coming back… This is not “just a phase.” Instead, there is just the tunnel, and sometimes the darkness in that tunnel is all-enveloping… And the holidays can bring it out, when you least expect it.

Last year, I had just finished all my cancer treatments, and I was so tired and relieved to be done. I was excited to be alive and celebrating another holiday with my family. I had my moments of sadness, but nothing close to what I have felt this weekend.

Before Bruce died, the days from October 31 through January 12 were my favorites and filled with celebrations. Now, however, they have proven to be the hardest days of the year for me. During this time, there are a lot of important dates filled with so many precious memories.

It is a season where time moves forward whether I am ready or not… As time moves on, I go from one holiday or momentous occasion to another… Some days, it feels I am being knocked to the ground and before I can get back on my feet, I am knocked down again.

It starts with Halloween, when years ago, Bruce insisted on buying our grandson his first pumpkin. He also got the biggest kick out of answering the door – playing with the young ones and trying to scare the older ones. Following that comes our wedding anniversary, Thanksgiving, my birthday, the anniversary of the day we met, Christmas, New Year’s Eve/day and the anniversary of Bruce’s death – all in close succession.

I know to brace myself, because before I can catch my breath from one event, the next one is upon me. If I am honest, all I really want to do is crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head and wait for the next 2.5 months to pass… but I don’t have that option.

Not only does life move on, but there are other people in my life and in this house… and these are their holidays too. Plus, one of those people is a child. I do not want him to ever associate this time of year with tears or sadness… I want him to remember this as a time for making precious memories… a time of family… and love… and laughter.

Over time, I have learned to take a deep breath, draw on my strength (my God), and try to avoid bringing on those uncontrollable tears. Don’t get me wrong, I do allow myself the time to cry, but I try to hold that for when I am alone. It has taken years to get to this point, which I guess, is why I am so frustrated with myself this weekend.

This week I came home from my surgery/healing and went back to work. However, it was also the start of “the season.” I not only managed to get through Halloween on Thursday, it was actually a lot of fun. But I think my issue this weekend is our anniversary facing me next weekend… It probably sounds silly, but it is a day I thought we would celebrate together for many years to come…

Don’t get me wrong, my family is wonderful and will celebrate the day with me. However, I guess it is just hard to let go of still wanting it to be Bruce and I. Plus, I think I wasn’t quite as prepared as I thought I was to throw the Christmas season into the mix… I think I have just felt a little overwhelmed.

Perhaps it sounds silly, but until you are on this path (a path I wouldn’t wish for anyone), it is hard to imagine how hard it is to find your soulmate and then to lose them without any warning. Then, once you are here, it is hard to imagine celebrating without this person by your side (where you are sure they belong).

I know it has been years… I know those around me love me and support me at every turn… And while I try to keep the grief under wraps, it’s not as easy as one might think… I’ve gotten better through the years, but the bottom line is – I still love him… I miss him… and I still hurt…

Yet… I look into the eyes of this little boy in the next room, and I am reminded there is still a lot to celebrate this year… And there is a lot of love left in this heart of mine to give away…

What about you? Do you struggle with certain times of the year? How do you deal with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

* 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… Looking for Hope

I am a reader. I have always been a reader. I will read anything… I simply love to read and always have. I have several family and friends who are also readers, and we are constantly exchanging books and making recommendations. That being said, I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I have read a story about someone choosing to recover from an illness or surgery “by the sea.” In the books, it always sounds so absolutely peaceful – the perfect spot to sit, think and heal… both physically and emotionally.

Maybe that is part of the reason I chose to spend this past week here by the sea, recovering from surgery… The ocean just steps from my door. Starting in my teen years, the ocean has been a place of magical healing for me… I can just sit and stare at it for hours, and all the pain or frustration just seems to melt away. However, until this week, I haven’t “sat by the ocean” for a week just to recover… And, I have to admit, this week has been just as wonderful as the books make it sound.

Even before I felt well enough to venture outside, the view from the couch was amazing! To watch the sunrise over the waves each morning or to watch an afternoon storm roll in always leaves me feeling nothing short of complete awe. As the week progressed, I slowly worked my way to “porch sitting,” and finally, in the last few days I have actually made my way out to the beach.

But that hasn’t been all of it… Being by the ocean, always reminds me of Bruce, as well. After all, we met on a sailing schooner down in the islands. When we were first married and living in Michigan, we spent as much time sailing Lake Michigan as the weather would allow. Then, here in Florida, we were always either out on the boat, on the kayaks or just sitting at the beach enjoying the waves. In other words, from day one, the beach was always “our” place…

We met there. Bruce proposed there. It is there that his ashes were released, and it is where I always go to feel closer to him… and this week has been no different.

Of course, I also have spent a lot of time this week reading. One of the books I read was just a great “beach reading” book… not complicated and definitely a “happily ever after” type book… And, like all good books, there were also a few sub-plots throughout the book. In this particular book, one of the sub-plots was about an older woman who still wrote daily letters to the “love of her life” who had died several years before.

It caught my attention right away, since my journal entries are the same… Just letters to Bruce about what is going on in my life, day by day. They always start with “Dear Babe” and end with “All my love – forever and always.”

In the book, the character talks about how she knows he is dead, but she can’t quite let go. As she puts it, “Your mind resists death with all its might.” ~ Liane Moriaty, What Alice Forgot.

Boy, is that the truth! It is like a part of you always feels as if they will walk back through the door again at any minute… Like they have just been away on a trip and will return any day… It’s so stupid, because you know they won’t… There is just this part of you that seems to be stuck somewhere between “what was”… and “what is”…

This evening, though, as a storm worked its way off-shore, I was enjoying some porch sittin’ as I finished this book. Every now and then, I would put the book down to watch the rain moving away.

Each time, I found myself thinking about Bruce… Sometimes I am worried I will forget what he looked like or how he sounded, but not today. Today was like reliving each moment as it entered my mind… And as I sat there remembering, I smiled, I laughed, I cried… and I wondered, “Will I ever get used to this?” And just as I asked myself that question, I looked out across the waves and saw a beautiful spectrum of color going from the storm cloud down in a perfect arch to meet the ocean… a rainbow! A promise of hope…

I didn’t even know hope was the thing I was looking for… or needed… But it is exactly what brought peace to my heart today.

Everyone travels this path in their own way and in their own time… Grief is hard and the fact we seem to be expected to carry on with our life as if nothing had happened can make it seem even harder. These are only my thoughts and observations about my own path. Maybe you too have had challenges that have brought your grief a little closer to the surface or made it seem a little bit harder than normal.

Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when we feel completely vulnerable. If any of this feels familiar, 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. *

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… Comfort in My Heart

I’m not sure if I want to put this all out there or not this week. However, since my goal is to be honest about this journey… here goes…

As you may (or may not) recall, last year held another challenge for me in the form of breast cancer. It started with a diagnosis and surgery in the spring, chemo throughout the summer and radiation in the fall. I had great support from my family and friends throughout the whole experience, but it was still hard doing it without Bruce by my side. So many times, I would think, “Why?… Why do I have to do this without him by my side?” But, of course, there was never an answer… Life just seems to be what it is.

However, there was also a part of me that felt differently…

I’m embarrassed to admit it… It probably sounds quite vain, and it is hard to explain, but after the surgery, there was a part of me that was relieved Bruce wasn’t here. I had tried to prepare myself for what was coming with each step in the process. After all, the goal was to get rid of the cancer, and we did that. But I guess, I wasn’t prepared for how it would look after all was said and done.

I thought that with a lumpectomy, things wouldn’t be that bad… But I was wrong. The first time I looked in a mirror, I was shocked. I had not expected what I saw reflected there… And I cried. In that moment, I was glad Bruce wasn’t here. I’m not saying he would have minded… I’m saying I was horrified… I would have been embarrassed to let him see me like that.

Then, there was the chemo, and I lost my hair… all of my hair – not just the hair on my head. I lost my eyebrows, eyelashes… every bit of it – gone! Again, before it fell out, I thought I would be okay with it. It was just hair, after all. However, the reality left me quite humbled. And, once again, while a huge part of me wished Bruce were by my side, there was also a small part of me which was relieved he never saw me like that.

After the chemo, there was the radiation. By this point, the surgery was starting to heal, and I thought, maybe it will all be okay. However, the radiation has an effect on scar tissue… It made it hard and caused a lot of permanent swelling.

There were so many emotions at that point… I was thankful to my doctors and glad to be alive. I knew my experience had not been all that bad when compared to so many others, especially those who don’t make it through. I was trying to be okay with how my body looked… Yet, again, there was a part of me that wished Bruce were there to tell me he loved me no matter what, and the other part was relieved he never saw me looking like this.

Last year, the doctors told me I would need to wait a year for the healing process to run it’s course. Then, we could look at the options available to “fix” things. So… I waited.

As time passed, I’m not sure if I just got used to it, or if things got better, or a little bit of both. However, when the year was up, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. However, when summer came, and I realized I was uncomfortable wearing certain clothes, I decided to see exactly what my options were.

And that brings me to this week…

On Friday, I had some plastic surgery to fix everything… They released the scar tissue to get rid of the hardness and did some fat grafting to even things back out. So why am I writing about this here?

Because, as I have said, throughout this journey, I have had mixed emotions about wishing Bruce were here with me and being relieved that he wasn’t here to see how I looked. However, when I woke up from my surgery, I knew without a doubt, he has been here all along… by my side… holding my hand.

Because that is what he was doing during my surgery… As I came to, all I could remember was Bruce taking my hand as they wheeled me into surgery. He never said a word… He just stayed beside me holding my hand. When the nurse woke me up, he squeezed my hand and was gone… just like that…

It took everything in me not to cry… I wanted him to come back. I remember the nurse asked if I was okay. “I just feel like crying,” I said, as I remembered holding his hand for the past few hours… Something so real… Something I haven’t done in such a long time… Something that reminded me – I am not alone… I have not been through this journey alone… and he loves me no matter what…

And… even if he can’t be here physically by my side, he still loves me enough to put his comfort in my heart… where I can always find it.

Everyone travels this path in their own way and in their own time… Grief is hard and the fact that life just keeps on coming at you can make it seem even harder. These are only my thoughts and observations about my own path throughout the course of dealing with this thing called cancer. Maybe you too have had challenges that has made your grief seem a little bit harder, as well. Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when we feel completely vulnerable. If any of this feels familiar, 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. *

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… Walking the Path

It has been over six years since Bruce died… “They” say it gets easier with time. Maybe that is true for some people… Or maybe it just hasn’t been enough time for me. Who knows? I know everybody’s path is different, so I am guessing the “time” part is different too.

There is a certain thing, though, that I am guessing happens to more people than just myself… After a certain amount of time, even if you are still hurting, you simply get better at keeping those emotions to yourself. I know for me, I have gotten better at smiling, even on the rough days… Just because I am smiling doesn’t mean those feelings aren’t there. In fact, those feelings seem to always be there – somewhere just below the surface… waiting for any small reminder of what once was. Sometimes it is a song… Other times it might be a mannerism in a stranger or passing a car or truck like the one he used to drive.

In other words, it can be anything, and it usually catches me unaware…

The next thing I know, I am struggling to control those emotions while still maintaining whatever demeanor and conversation happens to be going on. Like anything else in life, sometimes it’s more manageable than other times. However, if I am honest, there are times when I am just plain tired of smiling through the hurt and pretending to be okay… Pretending that it doesn’t really hurt any more when, in fact, I am still dying on the inside.

Do you know what I mean? Have you ever gotten tired of pretending that all is fine? Maybe it’s just me, but somehow, I doubt it.

This week I was trying to figure out why I do that… After the third time in one day of smiling instead of giving in to the tears, I thought, “Why not just say, ‘Hey, give me a minute here, please?’” Then, as God provides, (through my Face Book feed this time), I read an article that seemed to hit the nail on the head…

Here’s the thing, our grief is unique to who we are and our unique relationship with the person we loved and lost. Even if two people are grieving the same person, our relationships are different. Therefore, our grief is different. So, no matter how much another person might want to completely understand, they can only support us up to a point. After that it is up to us to walk the journey… alone, because it is our grief and our pain that we must work through.

I think that is why I choose to keep it close to my heart, hidden deep inside…

The people around me love me…  I know they love me… I do not doubt that for a moment. I also know that when I am in pain, it creates pain for them. After all, when someone we love is hurting, we hurt too… That is part of loving someone. These people around me, because they love me, have seen me through the parts of this path that are accessible to them. They have stood beside me and held me in my darkest moments.

However, at this point – after so many years – there really isn’t much they can do to help me as much as they may want to. Now, it really is up to me to work through the hurt that is unique to my grief for Bruce. There are still moments of grief we can share, such as on holidays and special occasions. However, for those day to day moments that create a catch in my throat, there is no need to bring it up since those particular situations are based on my relationship with Bruce and those intimate moments and memories that belong only to us.

So, while there may be times when I am tired of pretending, I am also so thankful for the people around me who keep me smiling… Those people who don’t judge me or make a big deal when I suddenly get momentarily quiet before rejoining the conversation and laughter.

So, maybe I’m not as good at hiding it as I think… Maybe those I love do notice those moments of pain as they flash across my face. However, rather than calling attention to it, they respect my path enough to let me work it out for myself… As I sit here and think about it, maybe we are all just getting better at walking this path in our own way… and in our own timing.

Death changes everything…
For a while that is all I can think about.
Time changes nothing…
On its own.
This is a journey
That will not end,
But I can learn how to direct my path.

If I do not pay attention
To each individual step,
If I look too far ahead,
If I get tired and stop,
If I look backward too long,
I will become lost and scared.

I did not choose this journey.
I do not even like this journey.
But I would rather choose my path now
Than to try to find my way later
Because I gave up what little choice was mine
And became lost.

It is okay to stop and rest
Or cry when I am weary
As long as I do not lose track of where I am.

It is okay to peer behind me
To see where I was
As long as I remember to look forward as I move on.

It is even okay to look at what is ahead
As long as I am doing so as preparation,
While I remain focused on where I am.

Death has changed everything
And I must learn how to adjust.
Time changes nothing…
On its own – that is my job now.

This is a journey –
And it is mine –
I must own it to survive it.
~ Linda, September 2013

Everyone deals with grief and the loneliness it creates in their own way and in their own time… These are only my thoughts and observations about my own path. Maybe grief has been that way for you, as well. Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when our loneliness leaves us feeling completely vulnerable. If any of this feels familiar, 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. *

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… Learn to Be Lonely

Learn to Be Lonely
Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
Learn to find your way in darkness
Who will be there for you?
Comfort and care for you?
Learn to be lonely
Learn to be your one companion
Never dreamed out in the world
There are arms to hold you
Your heart was on its own
So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived
Life can be loved
Alone
~Andrew Lloyd Webber, Phantom of the Opera

A few years ago, when I heard this song, it really hit home with me… I can remember my eyes filling with tears, and I thought, “Yes, exactly! That is where I am.” … Learning to live alone… and learning how to love this life despite being alone.

According to the dictionary, the word “lonely” has several definitions. The one that seems to hit home for me since becoming a widow is “Without others of a similar kind.” I believe it seems to validate why I often feel so lonely… because within my family and my closest friends, I am the only widow. There is absolutely no one who can understand exactly what this feels like. So, while I am around the people I love almost all the time, I am the only one that knows what this journey is like… how hard it can be… how lonely it can be…

And (while they may not realize it is still a battle for me), how determined I am to not just live my life, but to love it, too…

That really is the hard part – learning how to love life again…

I love the people I am with – my family and my friends. I love the laughter and adventures we share. I love taking trips together. I love simple debates and intimate conversations… I love all these things and more.

But there are still things I miss… Things which no one around me can replace…

I miss being held and feeling the safety of his arms. I miss looks across the room that convey an entire conversation without a word being spoken. I miss sharing a private joke and dreaming about our future together. I miss caring for and supporting each other. I miss hugs when I’m down or for absolutely no reason at all. I miss extra dishes in the sink and seeing his beer in the frig… I miss the way he wore shorts in the dead of winter and always cooked in his bare feet. I miss being greeted at the door with a glass of wine and dancing in the kitchen. There is so much… And I miss it all!

I am alone.
All alone.
No longer is there someone to listen at the end of the day.
No longer are there arms to hug me or lips to kiss away the hurt.
No longer is there someone to say, “I love you… That’s all we need.”
All that greets me is silence, emptiness and my own thoughts…
I am alone…
All alone…
And it hurts…
~ Linda, September 2013

I know life goes on… That is a reality I have had to accept over the years…

At first, I couldn’t imagine ever smiling again, much less laughing. I couldn’t imagine celebrating anything. I couldn’t imagine a day without tears or a night where I would actually sleep peacefully all night long. In other words, I couldn’t imagine that life could possibly continue and be worth living without Bruce to share it with.

But…

I have learned to smile again. I have learned to have fun and to laugh again. I have learned to find new adventures. I have learned to be content in my own head. I have learned to try new adventures which push me beyond my comfort zone. In other words, I really am learning to live again… Only this time, I am learning how to do it without Bruce being physically by my side… without anyone to tell me how to make this work… without a clue of how to do this…

How? I can’t really say there has been a magic formula… All I know is every day I get back up, say a prayer for strength, put a smile on my face… and try again. In other words, it is an unending process to learn how “to be lonely” and still be okay… (It’s not an easy feat… It is a day by day challenge.)

However, down in my soul, I believe Bruce is watching… and smiling… and saying, “You can do this.”

Everyone deals with grief and the loneliness it creates in their own way and in their own time… These are only my thoughts and observations about this last year as I find myself muddling through life and tackling new challenges (some well beyond my comfort zone). Maybe grief has been that way for you, as well. Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when our loneliness leaves us feeling completely vulnerable.

If any of this feels familiar, 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. *

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… A Little Compassion Goes a Long Way

If you read my blog a few weeks ago, you may remember me mentioning that one of our cats had died. This weekend, we went to pick up her ashes, and I have to say, they did a beautiful job memorializing her life for us.

First, the package was wrapped up in a beautiful purple tulle bag. Inside was a lovely box which opened like a book. Inside the box, was information about grieving a pet and grief support, an imprint of her paw, cards with her paw and nose prints, and her ashes. We were all so touched by the amount of compassion and empathy that went into this whole process.

For me, though, the minute I saw the package, I was immediately taken back to the day when I picked up Bruce’s ashes… I’m not trying to be rude, but that experience was quite the opposite of this experience…

The funeral home had originally told us it would take about a week to do the cremation and get the ashes back. However, it ended up being more like 2.5 weeks. By this point, all my family had left. Each person had tried to stay for as long as they could, but they had jobs, families and lives to return to… We couldn’t sit around staring at each other and crying forever. While I hated to see them leave, I understood.

My sister was the last one to go… I remember when she left, we both cried. She told me she would come back in a few weeks, (which she did). She was also quite adamant that I should get someone to go with me when Bruce’s ashes were ready for me to pick up… I was not to go alone.

However, when the funeral home finally called, a day or two later, there was no one to go with me, and I just wanted – no, I needed – to get them. I couldn’t wait any longer. I can’t explain it, but I was too anxious to wait another day. Bruce needed to come home. So, I went… alone.

Because I was still very numb and raw, (still in shock, I believe), I had not driven up to this point. However, the funeral home was only a few blocks away, so I didn’t give it a second thought… I just went.

Now, I can’t tell you the business role of the woman who met me when I arrived. However, I can say her people skills were quite lacking. Here I was in her office – a brand new widow, eyes swollen from weeks of tears – picking up my late husband’s ashes. Yet, she was completely oblivious… All she could do was complain about her health.

Don’t get me wrong, normally I would be empathetic about another person’s health issues, but in this situation and at this time, it was not my job to nurture her… No, I’m sorry, but in this moment, it was her job to nurture me. I don’t mean for that to sound self, but shouldn’t that be basic customer service in a funeral home? Was I expecting too much?

Frustrated as I was, I didn’t say anything… I just stared at her as she ranted on and on. Finally, she asked me for Bruce’s name. Then, she reached into a cabinet and held out three small containers to me.

“Here you go,” she said.
“Those aren’t Bruce’s,” I replied.
“Yes, they are,” she argued.

For the next few minutes, we went back and forth – me trying to explain that his remains should be in one container with a sunset on it, not three small Asian style containers. On the other hand, she kept trying to convince me that “in my grief,” I probably couldn’t remember what I had ordered. It was absolutely infuriating.

Finally, she went to the desk to look up the records. When she turned back to me, it was obvious she wasn’t happy about what she found. There was no apology, though, as she returned to the cabinet and found Bruce’s ashes. All she said as she handed the container to me was, “They both came in today.”

But that wasn’t the worse part…

As I watched in disbelief, she pulled out a plastic bag, like the kind you get at the grocery store. The bag was white and emblazoned in red on one side was the name, address and phone number of the funeral home… It was nothing more than a huge ad for the business! And while I watched in horror, she dropped the container unceremoniously into this bag. Then, she handed the bag to me, and returned to her desk without another word…

I was so incredibly floored! How do you even respond to that? I mean, it’s not like I had ever done this before… maybe this was normal? Maybe my expectations were too high?

So, I just walked out the door and to my car. Once inside my car, I fell apart…

Here I was – holding what remained of my husband… The same man, who just a few weeks before had held me in his arms. How could this small container hold what remained of Bruce? It weighed no more than a bag of flour! How could this be him? He had been six feet tall… He had been a muscular man… a weightlifter. He had been a vibrant man – full of life… and love. Surely, there was something wrong… This could not be him!

But, it was… This was my Bruce. I held him in my lap, tears streaming down my face, as I drove home.

Once I got home, I placed his ashes on the dresser and lit candles all around it… Still in shock… Still in unbelief… And for the next 24 hours, I sat vigil with his ashes… I talked to him, I cried for him, and I prayed for both of us… How was I going to do this? How was I going to keep going without him? So many questions… so much anxiety… so much grief… and no answers.

However, life doesn’t stop. So, a few months later, on his birthday, our families gathered one more time to say our goodbyes and scatter his ashes in the ocean. While it was sad and my heart was torn apart, it was a beautiful memorial… Everything about it “felt like Bruce.”

Time has passed, and through the years, I haven’t put too much thought into that day at the funeral home… until today, when we picked up Duffy’s ashes. The contrast of how they treated Duffy’s remains and us, as her family, when compared to that day in the funeral home is like night is to day. I truly expected something like what I had experienced before – a lack of compassion and understanding for what we were feeling – just a business transaction – nothing more.

However, that was not our experience this time. This weekend’s experience was beautiful… It felt kind… It felt compassionate, and it offered a step toward healing and closure.

As we left, we were so thankful for the fact that stranger was able to understand the grief of losing a pet. I just wish, that lady years ago could have understood the same… I wish she could have known how far a little bit of kindness can go, to help someone who is hurting so deeply…

I don’t know if any of this rings a bell for anyone. I truly hope no one else has had a similar experience. If you have, I am so very sorry. Either way, even the experience of finding a funeral home and handling the remains and the funeral or memorial can be hard. At least, I know it felt overwhelming for me… Did you do it on your own, or did you have someone to guide you through it? Would you be willing to share your story with us, please? This path can be a hard and lonely one, but none of us needs to do it alone. We are all here for each other. We all have stories to share. Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

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

* 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… Even the Bad Times Weren’t So Bad

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How about you? Do you remember any bad times that only proved to strengthen your love? Do you understand what I mean? Would you be willing to share with us, please? Would you tell us your story? This path can be a hard and lonely one, but none of us need to do it alone. We are all here for each other. We all have stories to share. Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.* Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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

* 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.