Tag: grief journey

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

* 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… 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

* 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… Sometimes Life is a Challenge

I don’t care
How much time passes,
I don’t think
I will ever get over losing you.
~ Linda, August 2019

You know how it goes, right? Some weeks are just a little bit harder than others. For the most part, they all seem to start off on the same footing. However, sometimes there is a bump in the road, and the next thing I know, I am in a melancholy place…

This week, I knew I had a minor surgery lined up to remove the melanoma found a couple of weeks ago – a little nerve wracking, but nothing major. I knew I had this… I knew Bruce would be there beside me… I knew (or had a good feeling) that everything is going to be fine… Life in our house rumbled along normally.

However, on Tuesday evening, life took an unexpected turn…

Let me start by telling you about our cats. We have three… Two of our cats are older, and one is pretty young.

The oldest one is right at 20 years old. When my daughter was a teenager, she found him as a kitten outside the store where she worked. He was immediately named for the town, Frogmore. Years later, when she left for college, Frogmore stayed with me, and has been by my side ever since. He moved to Michigan and back here to Florida. He is the Winnie the Pooh of cats – a heart of gold, a love for food and completely at peace with his life.

The youngest one is also my daughter’s. This one was also a stray, but very feral. She was left behind when her mother was taken by animal control. Her name is Lady, and in Lady’s mind, my daughter is her Momma. She is fiercely loyal to my daughter, sees my grandson as her sibling, tolerates me, and struggles to figure out her place with the other two cats. Despite all this, she loves us all in her own way, and does not like it at all if anyone is not at home when they should be. In fact, she will stay by the front screen door waiting for whoever is missing to come home.

Our middle cat is Duffy. She was actually Bruce’s cat. He got her from a rescue shelter right after we met and named her after the bar in the Virgin Islands where we first kissed – Duffy’s Love Shack. There was a special charm about Duffy… She wasn’t your normal cat… She loved pink – anything and everything pink. (I know, they say animals are color-blind, but not her.) She also loved make-up brushes and would hide them under the furniture “for later.”

Mostly, though, she loved Bruce. There was such a special bond between the two of them. He would talk to her, and she would answer. In fact, they would have whole conversations that went on and on. Their favorite game was “cat bowling.” I know it probably sounds awful, but she loved it. He would set up several beer cans at one end of the hall. Then, she would lay down and let him “bowl” her into the cans. Then, she would come running back for more… And she would play as long as he would.

After Bruce died, she grieved… I know she did. In fact, I think she struggled as much as I did. It has just been in the last couple of years that we have started to see some of her old personality once again. I think Frogmore was her rock as she struggled with the loss of Bruce. Watching them throughout these past years, she and Frogmore have been inseparable… Wherever one was, the other was never very far away.

So those are our cats… and we love them. Whenever we are away, the three of them stay on our screened-in porch. When we get home, we let them in, where snuggles and treats are in order. On Tuesday, when I opened the slider to let them in, Lady immediately alerted me that something was wrong. I heard a cry and found Duffy… She was struggling to breathe, and her hind quarters were paralyzed.

My heart sunk… I knew she was getting old, but there had been nothing to indicate a problem. In fact, she had seemed fine that morning. How could this be? She looked at me with wide eyes, and it was obvious she was scared and in pain. I scooped her up and sat in one of the rockers to soothe her, while my daughter located an animal hospital where we could take her. Within a few short minutes, we were on the road. It all felt so surreal…

The staff and vet at the hospital were wonderful. They took Duffy back immediately, but there wasn’t anything they could do… Within the hour, we had lost her… She was gone… and our hearts were broken.

Maybe it sounds silly but losing Duffy this week was like losing another piece of Bruce. It’s crazy, but it really has been hard. If I think about it too long, the tears start. After all, she was his, and even after all this time, that has never changed. Her loss has taken me to a melancholy place… A place filled with memories… and love… and Bruce… Memories of happy times now gone… Times I will always miss… Times I will never know again.

I know this is a part of life… And I know life will go on. However, this week – for these few days – life has presented a bit of a challenge. And I grieve… I grieve for Duffy… and I grieve again for Bruce. However, I’m not the only one. For even as I write this, Frogmore meows as he wonders about looking for his mate, seeming just a bit sadder… And Lady? Well, she sits by the front door… waiting.

How about you? Have you had another experience of loss that brings back the loss of your loved one? 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Who Do You Grieve?

If you are reading this, more than likely, it is because you have lost someone you love. You are grieving… as I am… as this entire group does. Grief sucks! It’s hard, and there are no directions or checklists. It definitely has a beginning, but I’m not sure it ever has an ending. For each of us, there is a space in our lives that is empty now… For me, that space belonged to Bruce.

Each week I share a little bit about my journey, and what I am experiencing… I share little snippets of Bruce, and what our life was together was like… and how all that has changed. But today… Today, I just want to tell you about this man I shared my life with… This man I loved… This man I still grieve.

Bruce and I met on a sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands on December 26, 2004. I was traveling with my son, and Bruce was alone. What started as a “Do you need to borrow a pen?” quickly became a ship-board romance. We spent a week talking, dancing and laughing… It was incredible.

On the last morning, while he was trying to figure out how to keep things going, I was breaking things off. After all, I was a music teacher in a small SC town, and he was a truck driver in western MI – over 1000 miles away. To think we had a future together was ridiculous. However, after crying all the way home, I knew I was wrong, and we belonged together.

Sure enough, ten months later, I was moving to Michigan, and we were saying, “I do.”

My previous marriage had been an intensely, abusive one, and had ended years before. When I married Bruce, I was still struggling with so many of the after-effects that are the result of such a relationship. Bruce knew going in what my children and I had endured. He knew all the gory details, and never shied away from loving all of us. There were so many times when my response to him was based in my past – not my present with him. I can remember my mother saying, “He’s not —-. Don’t respond to him like he’s (that other person).”

God love him. He was the most patient person on the planet, as I learned how to trust this man with whom I was sharing my life. There were many hours when I had to go sit by the water to sort out what I knew was real and what was imagined within the context of my past. But he never wavered… He was always there… waiting for my return with a big hug and an, “I love you… that’s forever.”

I remember our first argument, when I ran to our room crying. He gave me some time alone before knocking and coming in. I can remember him placing his forehead against mine as he told me that sometimes relationships are hard, but that’s okay… We’d figure it out and be that much stronger for it. There was no violence or demand for my submission… I was allowed to be me… and he was allowed to be him. I had never known such a relationship… It was so freeing and empowering.

I remember a particular Sunday night. He was in NY visiting my youngest daughter for a few days. On the nightly news, the announcement came that his company was closing at midnight, and he would be out of work. We had no prior notice, and I panicked… but not him. He told me he had waited over 12 years for me to walk into his world, God had provided then, and God would provide again… He believed that with all his soul. Well, it took 18 months and a move to FL, but sure enough, he was right again.

I remember another time when it was his heart that was broken… I can’t tell you what it was that broke his heart, because it is not my story to tell. However, I remember coming home from work, and he had been drinking, which caught me a bit off guard. At first, he was flirty and jovial, so I just went with it. However, quite quickly, things turned sour, and I became the brunt of an anger I didn’t understand… Nothing physical, just sarcastic, cutting remarks… Hurtful things… Things I had never heard him say.

I was so completely stunned and didn’t understand what was happening. It was an awful episode. Bruce wasn’t much of a talker, and while he apologized profusely the following day, it took months before I finally learned what had actually ripped his heart in two.

But like every time before, we were there for each other… Always each other’s BFF and biggest supporter and fan… And just a little bit stronger because of what we had been through together.

By the time, we moved into our home in FL, we had found that comfortable rhythm… That space where arguments are few and hugs are plenty… That space where we knew the other would always be there – through thick or thin… That space where the trust and bond between us was unshakable.

And then it happened…

It was a Friday night… a night like any other. He came home late, and was hungry and tired. I sat with him while he ate, and we made plans for the weekend. He just chuckled, as I rambled on and on about all the things we could do. We had just gotten new kayaks for Christmas, and I was anxious to take them out again… Then again, we could take the boat out… or just head to the beach and enjoy a day together… It really didn’t matter – just being together was all either of us wanted.

As we went to bed, we followed the same ritual that we had followed from our beginning. He turned down the bed for us, and with great care, we each undressed the other. Then, he tucked me into the bed, before crawling into his side, pulling me close, and turning off the light. The night always ended with me snuggled in his arms.. my head on his chest.

But that night was different… That night, as I lay beside him, Bruce’s heart stopped… and so did my world… This is the man I grieve… This is the man I miss… This is the man I still love…

How about you? Who do you grieve? Who do you miss? Share with us, please… Tell us about this person whom you love… This path can be a hard 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Looking for the Blessings

“As I lie here thinking of you, I realize I have been blessed to have had a husband whose only expectation was for me to love him…
And whose only goal was to show me how much he loved me.”

~ Linda, July 2014

Maybe it is just me, but I have found that one of the hardest parts of being a widow is remembering to focus on the blessings. In the beginning, all I could think about was “what was no longer.” It was such a struggle that my life coach at the time had me start making a daily list of things to be thankful for. At first, I had to make myself think hard to come up with even two or three things. However, before long I was able to find multiple blessings… It was a great way to start turning my thought process around.

I think the second hardest thing has been the expectation (or my supposed expectation) from others to “control” my emotions. Don’t get me wrong, I understand I can’t live my life crying from grief and wallowing in self-pity. Yet at the same time, I often find myself shoving my real feelings down deep inside. Then to try to counter or ignore those feelings, I find myself either being way too bubbly or very quiet… Either way, it just feels awkward. It isn’t real, and it isn’t the real “me” at that moment.

I started a journal soon after Bruce died, and it has been a great outlet for those feelings. Over time, that journal seemed to morph into this blog, which has also been a great outlet for those feelings. There are so many things I will write here that I don’t talk about otherwise. Weird, huh? But, this space seems to be safe… A space where others understand what I am talking about because they are on that same journey.

Writing has given me an outlet for a lot of emotions and thoughts that I am not comfortable sharing… many of them have been so intense, they almost scare me. Yet, all of this writing has helped me release those emotions… I can leave them right there on the page and walk away. It has become such a vital part of this journey that I look forward to “my writing time” and the healing I feel after.

This week was no different. This week, after less than a year, that “C” word has been re-introduced into my world. This time it came as, “The biopsy came back, and it is melanoma.” WHAT?? At first, my mind went blank and tears started to form. What the h***?? How can this be happening again?

Truthfully, it is early, and the prognosis couldn’t be better. (Unless it wasn’t cancer at all.) They just need to go back for clear margins, and if that is do-able, all is well. Still… even that knowledge didn’t make the first couple of days any easier.

Honestly, I know I am blessed, I know it… but I’m still frustrated. Once again, I would give anything for Bruce to be here. Doing this kind of stuff without him feels way more daunting. I wish he were here to hold me and just let me be mad for a little while… to just let me cry for a long while… to just hold me… to just tell me we will get through this together, and it’s all going to be just fine.

… But that can’t be… that can never be… and that makes me mad, too!

Those are the emotions I’m talking about. Those are the ones I’m not comfortable saying out loud because it sounds so silly. I know this is a simple thing… I know it’s not a big deal… But deep down it’s still another round of that “C” word without Bruce, and it’s still a little bit scary…

So, now, what do I do?

The same thing I have been trying to do on this journey… Share my feelings here and look constantly to find the blessings around me…

When Bruce was alive, I didn’t have to put any effort into finding the blessings… it was easy. It took us 44 years to find each other, and that miracle was never lost on either of us… Everyday together was a blessing. However, the past few days I have struggled… I hate it, but when things get tough, it is still so easy for me to get caught up in what I have lost rather than what I still have.

I really do realize I have a lot of blessings here, though. This has been caught early, and it is going to be absolutely fine. I also have great family and friends who are here for me. Luckily, I have great insurance, a fabulous boss and a wonderful job that allows me to take care of my health without worry of reprisals.

… And even if I can’t see him, in my heart, I know Bruce is here beside me once again… Holding me tight and whispering, “I love you” and “We’ve got this” in my ear…

How about you? What do you struggle with along your path? Do you ever struggle to find the blessings when things get hard? How do you respond to those moments? This path can be a hard 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… You Feel What You Feel

This week, I listened to a speaker talk about emotional pain, such as grief. He talked about how when the pain is physical, we are more honest about how we feel. For example, if we have a broken bone, no one thinks less of us if we say it is hurting on a certain day. Shoot, even years later, if you say that an old injury is bothering you, no one thinks a thing about it.

Yet inner pain, which is just as real, is not treated the same. For whatever reason, we are more hesitant to say we are feeling a little down or that the grief is a bit overwhelming on a certain day. But why? Is it the reaction we think we will get? Or is because of a reaction we have gotten in the past? … Probably a little bit of both.

But just like a physical hurt, we must acknowledge and take care of our inner pain, as well, if we want it to heal at all. If you have ever lost someone you love, that is what we call our grief journey… That path where we struggle to find the healing balance which will allow us to deal with the pain, while at the same time, not letting it completely take over our lives.

For me, (six years later), I mostly function in a positive zone… most days, I am okay. In fact, if you ask me how I am, I will say, “Fabulous.” I can smile and laugh and live in the moment. However, I still have days or moments where the grief and sadness are dominant. It’s not a bad thing or an overwhelming thing… I just feel sad. Plain and simple, I miss Bruce. More precisely, I miss all the things he added to my life.

I’m not talking about a pity party… I’m not caught up in feeling sorry for myself. In fact, most people around me are completely oblivious that anything is wrong. I can usually brush any questions off with “I’m just tired.” But the truth is I’m just sad. I don’t know how to explain it… I’m not feeling sorry for myself. At this point, I definitely accept my reality as it is… I guess the best I can explain it is to say I just miss him.

You see, when you lose your partner, you lose more than just a person. That person filled so many roles… so many spaces in your life… And I miss all those things…

I used to always tell Bruce, he was my hero… and he was. He was also my best friend, my rock and my anchor… He brought a stability to my life that I had never experienced before him. I have spent most my adulthood going from one crisis to the next, but not with Bruce. With him, life took on a peace and fullness that is indescribable… and I miss that.

I have a friend who lost his wife a few months before I lost Bruce. I remember asking him how he was doing one day, and he responded, “You miss the little things… that’s where the relationship and the love came from.” Boy, he was right! Those are the exact things I miss…

I miss going places with Bruce… side by side – always together. I miss sharing the adventure of all those places and experiences we shared. I miss going to restaurants and sitting on the same side of the table so we could still hold hands (or snuggle if it was a booth). I know that probably sounds goofy, but it made me feel so special. I miss that he would always order an appetizer, while I ordered a full meal. Then, when I got full (which didn’t take long), he would finish off my food… always letting me pick whatever I wanted to eat, then laughing as I pushed my plate toward him after only a few bites.

I miss Sundays… It was out day to go to the beach together. It was such a quiet special time together. There wasn’t a lot of conversation. Instead, we just enjoyed the silence as we sat next to each other holding hands while watching the waves, reading or catching a quick nap.

Sundays also meant cooking together. There was something fun and romantic about sharing a space that is really meant for one. There was also something sexy about watching him cook while I sat at the counter – watching, talking, and sipping on a glass of wine.

I miss those days when he got home first and would greet me at the door with a glass of wine. Or when I was on the phone with someone and getting stressed, silently, he would come with a grin and a glass of wine.

I miss snuggling on the couch after dinner – either in silence or watching TV. It didn’t really matter. Just being together, breathing each other in, was the best part of those moments.

I miss playing games and knowing that he would never just let me win. Of course, he might play sports left-handed to give me better chance (LOL!), but he was just as competitive as I am. It was so much fun, knowing that whoever won would have bragging rights for days.

I miss having someone who loves me, even when I’m wrong. He was always there for me… No matter what, he always had my back. Whenever I was frustrated with myself, Bruce would just take me in his arms and hold me. He never tried to fix things or reiterated my mistakes. Shoot, I was already well aware of whatever I had done. I just needed to know that someone still loved me in spite of it… and he never failed to fill that need. He never left me doubting his love. It was always there – strong and constant.

This list could go on and on… There are so many things I miss… So many day-to-day memories that I would give anything to have back again. However, that is not meant to be…

Instead, this is my journey, and honestly, I think I’m doing pretty good. Most days the road is smooth and the sun shines. Although occasionally, the road is rough, and I can’t see the sun. On those days, the only thing I know to do is breathe and take it one step at a time… allowing myself to feel what I feel – knowing that a better day is always just ahead.

What about you? What do you miss about your loved one? I know everyone’s experience is different… We all miss different aspects of our relationships, and we all heal in our own way. However, that doesn’t mean we have to be on this journey alone. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. *

Who knows? Your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Oh, How I Wish!

I am not usually this late writing this blog, but until today, I didn’t really know what I wanted to write about… But something happened today that changed all of that…

Today, I drove about an hour + to meet up with a dear friend for lunch and some “catch-up” conversation. She and I have been friends for almost 30 years. Way back, we met because our husbands had served in the military together. Then, when we all left the military, we ended up in the same neighborhood. So, we did a lot together through the years. We home schooled together, went for nightly walks together, spent summers by the lake together, hung out at the bar together, babysat for each other, and our kids grew up together.

She has been there for me through thick and thin. When I went through my divorce, she and her husband offered us respite in their home. When Bruce and I were married, she was one of my biggest cheerleaders. Then, between life events and moving, we lost touch for a few years. In retrospect, neither of us knows quite how that happened… But as friends will do, about three years ago we found each other again and are determined that will never happen again.

Last year, when I went through the “cancer thing,” there she was – ready to do whatever I needed, whenever I needed. She allowed us to stay in their beach-side home the weekend before my surgery and was always standing ready to go with me to my treatments in the event my sister couldn’t. And since I have been declared cancer-free, she has been trying to find a way for us to celebrate.

In other words, she is a dear, dear friend, who owns a piece of my heart!

Today, we met halfway between our homes. (In reality, she drove further than I did, but that is how she rolls.) For four hours, we sat and talked… We laughed, we cried, we shared memories and dreams for the future… It was a glorious afternoon! And before we said our goodbye’s, we made plans for the next time.

Why am I telling you this? Well, as I drove home, I started thinking…

What a wonderful afternoon. It was simple – nothing fancy, nothing crazy, not a ton of money… It was just two people who genuinely care for each other spending an afternoon together. It was such a special day for me.

So why is friendship one of those things we seem to take for granted? Why is time spent with those we love something we take for granted? I don’t have an answer, but I would bet we all do it…

I have no regrets when it comes mine and Bruce’s relationship. Yet, I also know I took for granted so much of our time together. Don’t get me wrong… I really did appreciate our time together. Even back then, I knew I was blessed. But, all those day to day moments… those times we were just sitting on the couch watching TV or the times we were cooking together in the kitchen… All the times we came home from vacation and still had to unpack and do laundry… Or all the Sunday nights we were just getting ready for the next week… What about those?

Honestly, I know I took them for granted. I always just assumed we had endless days waiting for us… I never dreamed we wouldn’t “grow old together.” I didn’t know I needed to actually appreciate every single moment.

But now… now, I would give anything for just one afternoon with Bruce… One just like this one I just spent with my friend… To have four hours to talk and catch up… To laugh together and be able to share what is happening and what our current passions are dreams are… To be able look into his eyes just one more time and say “I love you.”

Oh, how I wish that could be… just one more time…

What about you? Do you know what I mean? Do you ever wish you could have just one more day? One more moment? I know everyone’s experience is different, and we all heal in our own way, but that doesn’t mean we have to be on this journey alone. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. * Who knows? Your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Supposed To

This past week has held a lot of stress at work – not really anything bad, per es, just deadlines and meetings that didn’t go as predicted. We’ve all been there… We all know that is just life sometimes. No big deal… we keep going. Still, it is that stress that left me feeling emotionally drained… and physically tired this week. I know when I am tired, I am more vulnerable to the waves of grief that can catch me off guard… And they did.

All week as the exhaustion increased, my ability to push the grief onto a back burner got harder and harder. By Wednesday, the tears were next to impossible to keep at bay… And it was beyond frustrating. I was determined not to cry… not at work… not in front of anyone. Yet, there were a couple of times, I had to turn my back and hide my face. Yet, even that sometimes pisses me off, too.

Why are we held to a standard that at times is impossible to uphold? We (or at least myself) are told we’re supposed to be strong. We are “supposed to” be over it… But what about the days or moments when we aren’t? Why can’t we just be human for a moment?

But the world doesn’t function that way… And we all seem to abide by the “supposed-to’s.”

As women in the workplace, we are “supposed to” act more masculine – toughen it up, show no emotion. Otherwise, we are viewed as weak or silly. Who decided that? I’m not saying we should be an emotional mess. But I do know, having feelings and emotions doesn’t make me weak… In fact, I would bet money, I have survived more crap than most of the men who hold me to that standard.

As men, they are “supposed to” be tough and squash their emotions down deep inside where no one can see them. We tell them from an early age, “Big boys don’t cry.” Then later, as adults, we tell them not to be afraid of their feelings. Oh! Do we mean those feelings we told them not to have? Good grief! What is that about?

As an older woman, we are told what we should or shouldn’t wear… “Don’t look old, but don’t dress too young.” … Oh, please! (Yes, I am rolling my eyes!)

Certainly not the last of a never-ending list, but as a widow, I’m “supposed to” move on – get over it… Whatever!

Some days the pain is so great.
Sometimes it is too much.
But still I must put a smile on my face
And walk out to face the world.
I must pretend all is well.
But on the inside…
The pain is so great…
It is too much…
Too much…
~ Linda, September 2013

I guess what I’m saying is we all have these ridiculous expectations that are placed on us by the world around us. Yet if we are honest, as much as we hate it, we also placed them on the people around us, as well. But why? The older I get, the more I realize it’s all so ridiculous! Who cares? Yes, we need standards for our own lives, but we don’t need everyone else’s standards for our own lives… Didn’t we learn that as teenagers when peer pressure was so strong? Where did we start falling for it again?

It seems like somewhere along the line, it became more about trying to make everyone “comfortable” and life always appearing to be fabulous, rather than life is life and we just need to live it honestly. Yes, we all need to maintain a certain amount of self-control, so that our needs don’t impede on someone else’s existence. So, as long as we respect that, why not live our lives, and just leave all those “supposed-to’s” behind?

I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to live my life based on someone else’s expectations… I simply want to live it… and experience it… all of it – the good and the bad. I want to feel what I feel, wear what makes me feel good, and do those things that bring me joy…

And I would bet you, if Bruce (or any of our loved ones) could come back, they wouldn’t say they wished they had followed more of these “supposed-to’s” …

Don’t be so rigid that you break in the storm.
At the same time, be careful how far you bend.
For if you bend too far, like a tree that breaks in the storm,
You will find you are no longer standing at all.
~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? What has your grief journey been like? Have you ever felt like you had to live up to everyone else’s standards? If so, did it frustrate you? Or was it helpful? I know there isn’t one answer that works for all of us. Everyone heals in their own way, but that doesn’t mean we have to be on this journey alone. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. * Who knows? Your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… It’s Complicated

In the dictionary, grief is defined as “deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death,” with a second definition of “trouble or annoyance.” … Speaking from experience, both are right, and both apply here. Grief is deep sorrow caused by death, and it creates a lot of trouble and annoyance.

This week, while listening to “The Dead Drink First” by Dale Maharidge on my work commute, there was a quote that caught my ear. The speaker was a WWII vet, and basically, he said that the dead are not the ones who suffer; their suffering has ended; it is those who love them… those who are left behind who truly suffer. I couldn’t agree more.

Throughout the years on this journey, I have gone through every emotion on the planet. In the beginning I was completely numb – going through the motions of life, but not able to grasp what was really happening. It’s weird… I can remember people telling me how strong I was. I wasn’t… I was numb… I was completely dead inside. I kept thinking this had to be a dream, and I just needed to get to the end and wake up. Then, everything would be okay. Then, Bruce would be right there beside me, and I would be able to snuggle up in his arms and kiss his cheek.

But that didn’t happen…

Instead, after a couple of months, the grief (“deep sorrow”) actually started to set in. I was alone… I started each day alone, and I ended each day alone. When I looked at what lay ahead, my life looked a road filled with being alone.

This led to feelings of abandonment. I remember feeling abandoned by Bruce, abandoned by God, and abandoned by the world, (who, if you remember, is thinking I am “strong” and doing okay). Which, of course, only created “annoyance.” Then, the anger started. It began deep in the pit of my stomach, and quickly flowed into every thought.

Day after day, it was always the same – wake up, work out, go to work, come home, go to bed. Life seemed bleak and pointless… I didn’t understand why I was still here, and Bruce was gone. I couldn’t figure out what my purpose was… I couldn’t seem to find hope anywhere.

Now, the world started to take notice and think something was wrong. After all, I had been doing so well. What in the world was wrong with me? Most people had no idea this was the grief, just starting to settle in. This was actually normal. This was the “deep sorrow” and the “trouble and annoyance.” And, honestly, this delayed response is more “normal” than one might think.

You see, the sudden, (aka – unexpected), loss of someone you love knocks you off your feet. I can remember feeling like the rug had been pulled out from under me, and I wasn’t sure how it happened or why. Then, once I realized what my reality was, it felt like the last pages of my book, my story, had been ripped out. It is an awful feeling, and one I struggled with for a long time, as I tried to get my bearings and find a renewed purpose.

Then, there was the guilt. I later heard someone say that it isn’t unusual for the surviving loved ones to feel guilt or blame, because these emotions offer us a sense of control in the situation. It makes us feel as if there is a chance things could have been different… Maybe it could have been prevented. This didn’t just happen. No, someone is at fault… And in my case, it was me.

After all, I was the one who was sleeping beside him when it happened. I was the one who couldn’t wake up fast enough or call 911 fast enough. I was the one who struggled trying to get him into a position so I could do CPR… And, ultimately, I was the one who failed… In his last moments, when he needed me most, I failed. He died, and I couldn’t stop it. (Honestly, I am still crying as I write this part… I think I will always feel guilt for not being able to save him.)

It didn’t matter that the Medical Examiner told me no one could have saved him. His condition required a heart transplant, so when his heart stopped, it stopped. “No one,” he emphasized over and over, “could have saved him that night.” Yet, I have struggled with this guilt for years.

It has been a slow process, but through the years, I have come to terms with my reality. I have learned to laugh and enjoy life. It’s hard to really define my purpose, but I believe, I am here to just be kind and show love to others… At least for now.

At this point, I have a lot more good days than bad… And even the bad days, don’t linger like they used to. I am better at recognizing when I need time for me and when I need to be with others. I am better at recognizing that I am responsible for how I handle my grief, and no one else.

It’s been quite the journey, and I know it’s not over. While in the beginning I couldn’t see how I would manage, now I know I can’t just quit at life because he is gone. Life keeps going, and I want to be a part of it.

All that being said, I miss him… and I think I will always miss him.

This is just a small snippet of what grief is like… It is a small piece of my experience, but everyone’s path is unique. Everyone’s grief is different… However, it is always a jumble of emotions that come and go. Most people refer to these as waves of grief… or aftershocks. Sometimes, they are just small twinges and other times they are as strong as the initial blow and will knock you off your feet. The worst part is you never know when they will hit or why. There is no real rhyme or reason. For me, I am learning that when I am tired or frustrated, I am more vulnerable to these, but that isn’t always the deciding factor. It can be a song or smell, a place or someone’s mannerisms… Any number of things that suddenly bring Bruce to my mind, and then just as quickly, I think how much I still miss him and wish he were still here…

In other words, it is complicated…

“Grief is more than missing someone; it is an unrelenting ache for reality to be different and for the impossible to come true.” ~ Anonymous

What about you? What has your grief journey been like? What has been your biggest obstacle? How do you handle those moments when the memories flood in and threaten to take over your reality? Have you found a way to balance your grief with your current life? I know there isn’t a schedule, and everyone heals in their own time, but that doesn’t make this journey any easier. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. * Who knows? Your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Unexpected Memories

It’s hard to believe I have spent the last few days in Michigan. It felt so strange – so surreal. There are so many days when I miss Michigan. Let me clarify… There are so many days when I miss our time there… our time together. I have so many good and happy memories of us there. Sometimes I even wonder what it would be like if I could go back, or if I still lived there…

When I stepped off the plane on Thursday, I was excited at the idea of spending the next few days with Bruce’s family. I walked down the gangway and into the airport, and it hit me like a punch to the belly… All I could think about was the first time I walked down that same corridor, and there Bruce stood – leaning against a column watching the passengers disembark. The moment our eyes met, he broke into a grin from ear to ear.

On Thursday, I knew he wasn’t there waiting. (Oh, I wish he had been!) Yet, it all came back so fast and felt so real. I actually had to stop for a moment and look around to get my bearings in this reality. This town is filled with so many memories, I found myself pausing quite often while I was there to catch my breath and to remind myself what my reality IS.

There were other memories that came to mind as I found my way through the airport… There were the chairs where we would try to steal a few private moments before saying goodbye when we were dating, and the restaurant where we always had a pre-flight drink when we were flying together. I would swear I could remember every trip to the Gulf Coast to see his folks and the multiple trips to SC to see my family… And that was just the airport.

As I was driving through town, all I could think about is how beautiful Michigan is in the summer, and how I loved spending that first summer up there with Bruce. I can’t even begin to describe the pure lush, green of a Michigan Summer… It is absolutely amazing. That drive to Bruce’s family, out toward Lake Michigan, brought back the memories of all the times we drove out there to spend time on our sailboat, Island Buoy.

While I was there, Bruce’s sisters and I spent one evening out at Lake Michigan watching the sunset. At the water’s edge, we all put our toes in the water… And it was freezing!

All I could think about was the time Bruce anchored the sailboat offshore. The plan was to swim in and eat at the beach side restaurant. I put one foot in the water and immediately climbed back into the boat. There was no way I was swimming in that cold water. There was a short conversation between us, before Bruce conceded to let me ride on his shoulders (above the water). LOL!

Truthfully, I never swam in that lake… It was always too cold for me. Bruce took one picture of me with my feet in the water, but that was as far as I could manage… Just the memory of those days had me laughing happily inside as we watched the sun slide quietly from the sky.

The highlight for my trip was spending time with Bruce’s Mom and Dad. It was wonderful! Bruce has been gone for so long now, most people will tolerate a phrase or tow about him… maybe even the occasional shared memory, but too much “Bruce” seems to make the room grow silent. However, for two days, there was conversation after conversation with his parents, and each one was filled with Bruce. I loved it! (It was even better knowing they wanted and needed those conversations as much as I did.)

At one point, Dad said the kindest thing… He talked about how it felt when Mom had a couple of strokes in May and spent weeks on end at the hospital. He talked about how awful it was to come home to an empty house – without her… And how he realized in those moments how hard the last six years have been for me… without you.

He is one of the only people who has been able to experience that and to make that connection with me… All I could manage to say was, “Thank you!” Thank you for understanding… Thank you for validating how hard this has been.

He went on to say he couldn’t speak for the rest of the family, but he could definitely speak for himself, and he felt he could speak for Bruce. Then, he said he knew if something happened to Mom, he couldn’t handle that loneliness day after day… year after year… that he felt he would need someone. He wanted me to know that he (and Bruce) would be happy for me if I ever found someone who made me happy again. He kept stressing that he (and Bruce) wouldn’t want me to be alone for the rest of my life.

Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about that part. I am grateful to have his blessing (and Bruce’s), if such a thing should happen… And I know “never say never.” However, I don’t know if I am really ready for such a thing. Then again, there’s no rush… not for me anyway – I’m okay for now.

As I write this, I am on the plane heading back home… All I can think is how lonely it feels leaving Michigan alone… It’s like saying goodbye to Bruce all over again… As I sit here, I am trying to hide the tears from the boy sitting next me… I feel so sad and lost… so alone… but in my heart, I know, “All shall be well… All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” 1

What about you? How do handle those moments with the memories flood in and threaten to take over your reality? Is there a way to balance your grief with your current life? I know there isn’t a schedule, and everyone heals in their own time. However, that doesn’t make this journey any easier. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note. * Who knows? Your story may the answer for someone else.

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

1 ~ Julian of Norwich

* 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.