grieve – Page 23 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Learning to Love the Holidays

If there were something that I believe many of us dealing with loss have in common this time of year, it would be the struggle as we learn to love the holidays again. Of course, that makes the assumption that we loved the holidays before we started on this journey. If not, then I guess that holidays hold other challenges. For me, though, I loved the holidays before… Now, it is a constant struggle… learning to love them again.

Each year, I feel like I do a little bit better. While there are challenges and even days when I seem to back track, most days I am moving forward… even if it is just a little bit. The first few years were the worst! In fact, the first year I ignored the holidays all together… I just couldn’t do it. The next year, I managed to participate a little bit… Then, each year has found me doing just a little bit more.

In fact, sometimes it is hard to remember the pain I felt that first year… sometimes. However, last week at our office holiday party, I was reminded just how hard that first year is…

For me, I was looking forward to this year’s party. First of all, I love the people I work with… They are like family to me. They have been by my side since Bruce died and have seen me through many tough days. To that, add the fact that two of my adult children work in the same office with me, and you can see I have a grand mix of work family and real family. The idea that we were all going to be at this party together was something I was looking so forward to…

However, that would not have been the case a few short years ago, and I was reminded of that fact almost immediately. As we walked in, there was food and drinks, friends and hugs, music and laughter… lots and lots of laughter. As I sat and talked, I looked around the room people watching – enjoying the atmosphere and the spirit of fun and friendships.

Then, I saw someone whom I really never expected to be there. It was one of our managers… One of the kindest men I know. Earlier this year (not so long ago really), he lost his wife. It’s his story to tell – not mine – but it was a shock to all of us. Knowing how I felt that first year and remembering how I avoided absolutely everything that had to do with the holidays, I really didn’t expect to see him there… But he was.

As he smiled and greeted each person, the pain in his eyes was heartbreaking… Honestly, I don’t know that many people would have noticed, but coming from a similar scenario of loss, my heart broke. Yet, I knew why he was there… It was for his employees – not himself. Something most of us can relate to, I am sure.

How many times have you done something or gone somewhere because it meant a lot to the people around you, not because it was anything you really wanted to do? Many times, I would guess… We all have.

In fact, it is that very behavior that has slowly (over time) helped me to learn to love the holidays again…

That first year, I ran away. The next year, I went to my daughter’s home, but I didn’t really participate. The next year, I remember actually singing Christmas carols once again. Each year, I have pushed myself to do a little bit more – to participate a little bit more – not because I necessarily wanted to, but because I knew how much it meant to the people around me.

Then, over time… a lot of time, I can honestly say that I am finally learning to truly love the holidays again. Last year and this year, I have loved the holidays – something I never thought I would do again.

Maybe you are where I am. Maybe you are even further down that path. However, if you are new to this journey or still struggling with the holidays, that’s okay. Be kind to yourself… I can honestly tell you that you should only do what you feel like you can handle – no more… and don’t feel guilty about it. This is a hard time of year. So, take it one day at a time, and know that it’s absolutely okay to take care of yourself.

What about you? Does any of this strike a chord with you? How do you handle the holidays? Do you find yourself doing those things you want to do or what others expect? Do you struggle to take of your own needs? 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.

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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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… The Hardest Time of Day

I am alone… all alone.
No longer is there someone to listen at the end of a bad 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, and that’s all we need.”
All that greets me is silence,
Emptiness,
And my own thoughts.
~ Linda, September 2013

Here is the question, “What is the hardest time of day for you?” I was doing some reading about grief this week, when that question came up. As I sat and pondered it for a while, I realized that the answer has been an ever changing one for me.

When Bruce first died, any time I was awake was hard. Sleep was the only thing that gave me any relief from the pain of losing him. I was so numb and in shock that I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. Sometimes, I would just sit and stare at the walls for hours, while other times I would find myself wandering through our house looking for… what? I can’t tell you. He wasn’t there… I knew he wasn’t there. I was alone… I was all alone.

After a few weeks, I returned to work. I needed life to return to some kind normalcy. I also knew if I stayed home alone any longer, I might never be able to pull myself out of the dark hole I found myself in. It was at that point that the evenings became the hardest time of day for me.

Because Bruce had never been to my office. He had never been inside that space… Nor was he involved in that part of my day. So, that space felt somewhat normal. Since he had never been there, there was no expectation that I would miss him there. (I hope that makes since.)

However, the minute I turned the corner onto our street, I would see his SUV still parked in the driveway. My heart would leap a little, as I immediately thought, “Bruce is home!” Then, just as quickly, I would remember… And my heart would fall to pieces.

By the time I walked inside, the tears were streaming down my face. So many times, I would walk inside, collapse in the middle of the living room floor, and just cry… Where was he?! Why?? Why did this have to be? I couldn’t comprehend it. It was awful… And it was day after day.

Without you, this house is so quiet it is deafening.
Even the thoughts in my own head can’t drown out the quiet.
It is always here – waiting to swallow my sanity.
~ Linda, November 2013

But, as we know, life is ever changing… Like the waves on the beach, nothing stays the same. As for my life, it changed again a few years ago when my daughter and grandson moved in. No more deafening quiet… No more lonely evenings… Instead, once again, this house was full of noise and laughter and love. It was great! It changed everything about my world. It probably sounds crazy, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a purpose again. It was absolutely refreshing!

Does that mean I know longer have “hard times?” Of course not! It just isn’t the central focus of every moment. My heart is still broken, and I still miss Bruce. However, my hardest time of the day now seems to be that time when I turn out the lights at the end of the day. There is something about lying there in the dark – alone. That is the time my mind turns to him. That is the time I will quietly talk to him… Wishing he were still here to listen… and answer… Wishing he could still hold me tight as we fall asleep… In other words, I find myself wishing for those things I know will never be.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever stop grieving completely… I doubt it. When Bruce left, there was a huge hole left in my soul. I have worked hard over the years to patch it up… I have made a conscious (daily) effort at healing. Yet, deep down, I still miss him. And I believe that as long as I have moments alone, I will always have a “hardest part of my day.”

I wake up,
And I reach for you,
But you aren’t there.
I long to feel your warm body
Next to mine.
In my sleep, I try to snuggle closer,
But there is only empty space.
Each time, I am pulled out of my dreams.
Then, I am awake
With nothing but the realization
That you are gone.
How long will is this going to go on?
Will my soul
Ever be content to sleep alone?
Will my heart
Always reach out for you in the dark?
… Probably.
~ Linda, July 2018

How about you? What is your hardest time of the day? Or what are your triggers? 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Changes

Note: First, I need to apologize for missing last week. I am afraid we spent the weekend preparing for Hurricane Dorian. Thankfully, God is good and blessed our little coastal town with barely a scratch.

I can’t remember the exact quote, and can’t seem to find it, but there is a phrase that says, “After a loss, time is divided in two – the time before and the time after.” Now, six years since Bruce died, I can tell you that is still the dividing line in my head.

I’m not sure why that is true. I just know that being a widow has changed me… It has changed how I view the world, and how I do things.

Surely, I’m not the only one. So let’s talk about the before and after…

I would say that before Bruce died, I was a very trusting person. Bruce used to tell me I should be more cautious – people should earn my trust. However, that was not who I was. Instead, I would always trust someone until they gave me cause (several times) not to, and I had no desire to be any other way.

However, after he died, there were too many instances of people trying to take advantage of my emotional state… The shock and distress of my “new normal” made me a target of some people’s manipulation rather than their compassion and understanding. Some actions were simple and easy to identify as non-trustworthy… For example, I can’t tell you how many phone calls I received from charity organizations, where they often used the phrase, “Your husband would want you to contribute,” or something similar. I fell for this once… and only once. Now, I never answer a call if I don’t recognize the number. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message. Otherwise, I don’t need to talk to them.

At other times, requests came for Bruce’s things. I’m not referring to family or friends who wanted something to remember him by – that is normal and right. I am referring to acquaintances, who would flat out ask for Bruce’s things, such as his tools, fishing equipment or our kayaks, usually accompanied by the phrase, “since you won’t be using it,” or something along that vein. To this day, I still have all these things… and, believe it or not, I use them. Through the years, I have learned to do small home repairs, taken my grandson fishing, and often kayak solo.

Then, there were the men who were way too eager to suddenly “be my friend” or who quite directly “offered” to sleep with me, because they would rather my “next time was with a friend and not a stranger” or because “someone had to be first, and it might as well be them.” Seriously?

One person from my childhood suddenly reappeared and took it so far as to ask if he could interview me for a book he was writing. I thought he was serious… I trusted him and agreed. It wasn’t until we were together that I realized it was not an interview, and despite being married, his intentions were not admirable. All of this has left such a bad taste in my mouth that trusting anyone again in this realm, seems next to impossible.

Before Bruce died, I would never have thought of myself as quiet. I was a performing arts teacher… I sang in choirs, performed in small town theater, and was a cantor at church. I didn’t really know a stranger and would talk to anyone anywhere about anything. (Shoot, that was how I met Bruce.) I was an open book with no secrets.

However, as time passed, I became more wary… more introverted… I learned not to talk about anything and everything… Because of the responses I received, I learned to keep my innermost thoughts to myself… It was easier and less confrontational… Even my grief, (other than writing this blog), I learned to keep to myself. That behavior has led me to a place where I can count on one hand, the number of people I am completely open with. Yet, I’m not convinced that is a bad thing… Now, the people I trust, I know I can trust – completely.

One of the biggest changes, though, has come about in this past year…

When Bruce died, I wanted to go with him… I did not want to be here alone… The magnitude of living the rest of my life without him seemed overwhelming… I didn’t think I could do it. However, as I have worked on my own healing and growth, I have become more introspective. I have found myself with a renewed respect for life and a deeper understanding of what is important.

My priorities are completely different knowing how precious each moment can be… knowing that the only moment that is promised is the one I am in… I have learned that my purpose here is to love… And if anything leads me away from that purpose, it is not the path for me… It really is that simple.

Part of writing this blog, is my own self-healing… my own self-awareness and understanding. Even now, as I have been writing this, I have come to realize something… All of these changes are really about learning to set boundaries… Something I always struggled with in the past. I am learning it is okay to say “no” and walk away from people or behaviors which are not healthy. I admit, I am still learning how to set them, but that is okay too… I believe these are changes I can live with, and now actually learn to enjoy my life on a different level.

How about you? Has your loss created changes in how you live? Not just the concrete ones that come from being alone. I am referring to your innermost thoughts and how you view and react to the world around you… 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