Tag: grieve

Peace, Love and Grief… Valentine’s Challenge

Well, here we are again… Another Valentine’s Day. A day dedicated to love and snuggles, hearts and roses. It is also the time of year when Face Book is filled with some kind of “Valentine’s Challenge.” Some years it is as simple as “post a pic of the person you love,” and other years it is more detailed with something like “tell how you met the person you love.”

Honestly, I used to love these when Bruce was here. I loved bragging about this man I loved, telling stories of how we met or posting pictures… sharing all the small ways he would show his love, which weren’t small to me at all. However, when he died, I hated seeing all those posts… It sounds so selfish, but my grief over losing Bruce and jealousy of people whose lovers were still by their sides seemed overwhelming.

It has taken several years, and while the pain of losing Bruce is still there, I can now look at those posts from others and smile. I won’t lie and say that Valentine’s is a day I love… I think it will always be a reminder of the fact that Bruce and I are on different planes. However, this year I actually found myself smiling at posts about other couples… Remembering that feeling of love and pride has been good for my soul (even if there is still a part of me that wants to cry).

It’s hard to explain, but I’ve never thought people shouldn’t post about their loved ones. There was never a moment when I thought, “They shouldn’t do that because it causes me pain.” Somehow that would seem a bit hypocritical to me since I love talking about Bruce even now. Yet, I also know that if I were to add my story of how we met or post pictures of the two of us on those same challenges, it would make things very awkward, and that would never be my goal.

So instead… While it’s a story I know I have told before, I thought I would share it again… here… where it is safe… Because in my world, it is the greatest love story ever!

It all started on the island of St. Thomas. The year was 2004, and it was the day after Christmas. I was traveling with my (then) 17-year-old son. My daughters had been invited along, but each had other places to be in that last week before school would be back in session. We had been traveling since about 3 AM that morning, and both of us were tired but filled with excitement. As we boarded the 100-year-old sailing schooner with 123 other passengers and crew, we were greeted with island music and drinks. The charm and magic of the islands was on the breeze and in every breath we took.

Almost immediately, we were taken to the cozy dining room to fill out some forms. There were about six other people at our table, and we were all handed a stack of forms to fill out as we were seated. Immediately, I realized we had been given all these forms, but nothing with which to write. Being a teacher, I was prepared, and promptly started handing out pens and pencils. As I turned to the gentleman on my right, I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. When I asked if he needed something to write with, he reached into his bag, pulled out a pen, smiled back and said, “No, thank you. I have one.”

I have to say, I was a little disappointed. I remember thinking how it would have been the perfect opportunity for him to borrow a pen, “forget” to give it back, and use that as an excuse to talk again later. Then again, maybe he just wasn’t interested…

That night, there was a steel band dance party on board. Everyone was laughing, dancing, and having a blast. As I went over to the bar for a drink, there he sat… quietly sipping a beer and watching the party. I sat down beside him to order my drink, and we started talking. He was so nice, and the conversation was easy… We didn’t have to work at it at all… It just flowed. We must have sat like that for about an hour, when suddenly at 10 pm, (like Cinderella at the ball), he stood up and said it had been a long day and he was heading to bed.

What?!? Who does that? Who just gets up and walks away in the middle of a conversation?? “Someone who isn’t that interested,” I told myself.

My son and I spent the next day exploring and parasailing. This was a trip of a lifetime, and we were determined to “do it all!” That night, as I went to get a drink, there was that same gentleman. Only this time, he waved me over to join him. I was a little skeptical, but figured “why not?” We sat there for several hours that night – talking and laughing. Other people came and went – some joining our conversation while others just listened. The longer I sat there, the more charming he seemed. However, I was determined, he wasn’t going to abandon me again. So, at 10 pm before he could say a word, I turned the tables… I told him it had been a long day and said “goodnight.”

I always laugh when I tell that part of the story… What a waste of a perfectly good evening! But I was determined, I could be just as aloof or mysterious as he could.

The next day, my son and I had signed up for a kayaking trip. As we were standing in line to get our kayaks, our guide announced that there weren’t enough single kayaks, which meant he needed 6 people to volunteer to double up. Those six would use three double kayaks. My son turned to me and asked if I minded if he went in a single kayak and ran to join up with his friends in the front. I had told him sure but actually I was a little wary about what that would mean for me. Just then, Bruce walked up from behind and asked if I wanted to share a kayak with him. Did I?? Um… of course!

As it turns out, though, my son was more observant than I would have guessed. Before Bruce and I could locate a kayak, Alex was back by my side telling me that he was going to ride with me, after all. Then, he turned to Bruce and pointed to the single kayak he had been about to use. “You can use that one. I’m gonna stick with my Mom,” he said. (Talk about a proper chaperone!)

That night, the crew took the passengers on shore to a bar called Duffy’s Love Shack. We filled the place, and I found myself dancing mostly with Bruce and the ship’s captain… What a blast! At one point, I was standing at the bar waiting for my drink when Bruce walked over to join me. We stood there talking for a minute, when the magic hit, and he leaned down and gently kissed me… That was our first kiss, and I will always remember how wonderful I felt… It was so perfect!

As the week went on, my son and I spent our days together. Then at night, my son would go off with the other teens on the boat, and Bruce and I would hang out on deck – talking, laughing, dancing, and drinking. It was the best time I could have ever imagined!

The week passed quickly, and our last night on board was New Years Eve. As Bruce and I were dancing, one of the passengers walked by and said that there was something special about the two of us, and if we were smart, we wouldn’t stop when we got off the boat. I remember Bruce looking down at me and saying that he agreed… He really felt like he could fall in love with me.

That was it… I wasn’t looking for love! I had been married for over 20 years, and I wasn’t interested in doing that again. So, I did what I have always done… I ran away. Well, actually, I excused myself to go to the restroom, but instead I went back to my cabin and went to bed. It wasn’t long before Bruce tapped on the door to see if I was okay. I don’t remember what I said, but I am sure it amounted to “I’m tired, please go away.”

The next day as we were all waiting to disembark, Bruce came over and sat down next to me. I told him that I was sorry if I had led him on, but I was only there to have fun… We lived over 1000 miles apart… I was a Catholic School teacher, and he was a truck driver… This would never work. He didn’t say much – just nodded that he understood. Then, he made an excuse about getting more coffee and walked away.

Then… I cried all the way home… Deep in my gut I knew I had just walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to me…

But the story didn’t end there (obviously)… As it turned out, all the passengers that week had become a tight knit group. We set up a group site on the internet and exchanged pictures, email addresses, and phone numbers. It only took a day or two, before I decided I had made a mistake, and I wanted to fix it… I was terrified, but I reached out to Bruce to see if we really could “make this work.”

And as they say… the rest is history.

Six weeks later, I was on my way to Michigan to spend some time with this man. (This weekend is the anniversary of that trip.) We wanted to see if this really was more than a shipboard romance. (It was!) Then, ten months later, I found myself moving to Michigan, and we were married.

I have no regrets about any of this – from the day we met to the day we were married and to the day he died … I am convinced that every moment happened the way it was meant to. Like any relationship, we had our ups and downs, but ours was probably the easiest relationship I have ever experienced. I know I was blessed to have known a love like ours, and I will always be grateful for the time we had. I also believe that he is waiting for me on the “other side,” and one day, we will laugh together again…

Because a love like ours never dies…

I know grief is challenging, and today can be a hard one if you have lost the love of your life. Sometimes this journey can feel like the loneliest path since it is different for each of us. However, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. When we open our hearts to one another and take a chance, we can survive whatever lies ahead. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. Maybe you could share the story of how you met? If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Laugh, Cry, or Turn Away

It dawned on me today that I have been keeping myself busy… terribly busy. I work a full-time job, homeschool my grandson, and if there is a moment when one might think I would sit and relax, I will find something to do… I think, (or maybe I know), that I am avoiding slowing down enough to think. Because when I do that… when I slow down enough, my thoughts eventually come around to Bruce, and the fact that he is gone. Then, it becomes way too easy to fall down that rabbit hole of overwhelming sadness.

Why now? I’m not sure, but I think it may be because these past few months are the hardest for me when it comes to his loss. I don’t know… Maybe it would be better to just let myself have a good cry and get it out. However, I am afraid that if I do that, I might not be able to stop.

I’m telling you this for a couple of reasons. First, I feel pretty certain many of you understand that. I am sure I am not the only one who still experiences prolonged periods of grief that seem to pop up for no real reason. Second, I am wondering if this avoidance of my feelings might be making me a little bit sensitive to other things… Although, that part I’m not so sure about.

I know I tend to be a sensitive person to begin with… I don’t tend to look for things to get upset about, nor do I take everything personally. Honestly, if you don’t tell me something is about me, it is just a lot easier to assume it isn’t. I’m referring to being sensitive to other people and what they are feeling… I just think if more people thought about how someone else might feel before saying or doing some of the things we do, the world might be a more peaceful, loving place… maybe…

That very thought hit me in the face this week… What if someone had taken just a moment more to think before sending me something that left me wondering whether to laugh, cry, or just turn the other way…

Like most of the world, I am in a few on-going group texts… No big deal… None of them have more than three or four people involved. These are my friends and family – people I love. When my phone starts to ping, sometimes I jump in and sometimes I don’t. It all depends on what I am doing, if I have time, and if I really have anything to add to the conversation… Like I said – no big deal.

A few nights ago, in one of those conversations, someone sent a transcript of a comedian’s take on burials. More specifically, it was about how bodies are “laid in caskets with pillows”, and “why”, and “is that really necessary”, and “where do we think they are going.” It’s a little bit hard to explain, but the moment I read it, I was instantly taken aback… Seriously?

I instantly felt like someone had just taken all the oxygen from the room. Granted, I do realize there was a degree of humor in it for some people. I get that… But there was no preamble or warm-up to it… It wasn’t part of a conversation that had somehow ended up there. Instead, it just came out of thin air.

And why include me? And why now? Anyone who is close to me has a pretty good idea that I wouldn’t find it funny… But there it was, and tears immediately came to my eyes as I thought about Bruce… My Bruce is gone… cremated… laid in a pine box and… all decisions I had to make…

I can’t… I can’t go there… When I do, I feel like I can’t breathe.

I know I did what he said he wanted. We even sprinkled his ashes where he requested… but it wasn’t easy… Those choices aren’t easy… and they aren’t a joke. When Bruce died, I had only been to four funerals in my whole life. Of those, I had never helped make any of the arrangements. I had no idea what I was supposed to do or how to do it. I didn’t know who to call. I didn’t know what to ask for or what choices I needed to make… And to be clear, they were all choices I didn’t want to make.

Honestly, since these are choices that have to be made immediately, I was still in shock… just going through the motions and doing what I thought people were telling me I should. I don’t remember a lot, but I do remember the people who helped walk me through it. I remember going to the funeral home with my sister and Bruce’s sisters. I remember they had to answer most of the questions because I couldn’t… At that point, Bruce’s death just felt like a nightmare and all I wanted to do was to wake up… To think that at some point, someone would think it was all a joke… something to be taken so lightly and laughed about… well, that stung…

The night the text came, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I didn’t want to react out of my own emotions (which I knew were too high)… Should I act like it was fine and send an “LOL?” Should I let myself cry and say how hurtful it was? Or… should I just turn off my phone and let them have that conversation without me? I chose the last option… I said nothing. Instead, I turned off my phone and turned away…

But… there is a part of me that wanted to say “Hey, that really wasn’t cool… You have no idea what you are saying or what you are laughing at.” But then again, that is exactly why I didn’t say anything… Because they truly have no idea.

The people who shape their world day in and day out… The people who make up the other half of their soul are still right there beside them. They are so blessed… So, I guess if I had said anything at all that would be it… Enjoy that blessing. Breathe in every wonderful moment that you are together, and hold them close… Take comfort in the fact that you have no idea how earth-shattering and hard those decisions are, or how awful it is when they are gone… I wish I had no idea… I wish I had the luxury of thinking those jokes were funny…

Please, don’t get me wrong. I know I have more of blessings in my life than I can count. This just isn’t one of them… And I guess it was a little bit hard to be reminded of that this week.

Death is hard, and grief, I believe, is harder. There are hard choices and decisions that have to be made. While for each of us, it creates a different path… a different journey, we aren’t alone. Yes, it can sometimes feel like an emotional roller coaster. Some days (or weeks) are better than others, and there are still other weeks where we wonder if we will make it through. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean… what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… The Room

Lately, my nighttime television go-to has been Grey’s Anatomy on Netflix. In one of the episodes this week, one of the surgeons was struggling emotionally in the middle of a surgery. When one of the other surgeons questioned her, she responded by saying that the room they were in was the same one where her husband had died just a few weeks (episodes) earlier. I know it is just a show, but still… my heart broke for her character.

It also got me thinking…

Have you ever driven down the road and seen the memorials on the side of the road? Markers of a space where someone died… Someone who was loved and is still missed. Sometimes it is a simple sign, and other times it is a decorated memorial with items that would have meaning for the person that was lost. It doesn’t matter how simple or decorated they might be, they seem to always catch my attention. Each time, a silent prayer for those who grieve that person crosses my mind… My heart breaks as I experience a glimmer of understanding into their pain.

Then, it dawned on me… Bruce died here… in this house… in our room… in our bed. Yet, I don’t struggle with being here. In fact, the idea of ever moving away is the thing that would bring me more grief. Maybe it’s strange, but I love being here. I love this space that we used to share. Even now, when it doesn’t look anything like it did when he was here, I find comfort in being in this space.

I think I simply love the idea that this space was ours.

When we were first married, I moved into his condo up in Michigan. It was our home, and I have fond memories there. However, through no fault of his, it always felt like it was more “his” than “ours”. Next, we lived in an apartment for a short time when we first moved here, but I don’t think either of us ever felt like it was our home. It was simply a temporary space… A place to sleep until we found a place to live.

Then, we found this little place… a tiny little house near the ocean that felt like us. Bruce added a few touches, such as fans, gutters, and new light fixtures, but nothing major. It fit us perfectly just like it was. We both loved it here.

Bruce loved having a garage to putter in, and the water nearby where he could take the boat and go fishing. We both loved the screened porch, where we could grill or just sit and talk. (Darts quickly became a favorite past time out there.) And, to make the space even more special, he made one of my dreams come true by building me a good, old, southern joggling board – something I still love to this day.

I can remember dancing in the kitchen while we cooked together. Then later, playing foosball to decide who would be the one to clean the kitchen. I used to love sitting snuggled up on the couch while we watched MASH or Andy Griffith before calling it a night. And… some of my favorite memories are those times when we simply laid in the bed quietly talking – sometimes remembering how we had started and other times dreaming about where we wanted to go from there.

There are so many wonderful memories within these walls! Sure, I remember the night he died. Obviously, that is a time that is engraved in my heart forever… but, luckily for me, that night has never stripped me of my love for this space and my memories of us. I know there are people who have been in similar situations and had different responses to the space. I am sure that for some, the pain is too much, and the need to leave too great. I remember before I met Bruce, I dated a widow who had moved less than a mile down the road after his wife died. He loved the town, but he couldn’t stay in their home. I remember he told me that he couldn’t handle having her memory in every room. That is understandable… We are all different and respond to our losses in different ways.

I know, when you are a widow, it can be hard to find things that are connected to your loss that you can say “thank you” for… I get it. However, when it comes to this home, I feel blessed! This house was ours,… and in my heart, it still is. Yes, I will never forget that this is the house… the room where Bruce died… But more importantly, this is the room… the house where Bruce lived… This is the place where we both shared our lives and our love.

So, for me this isn’t a place where I struggle to function… Far from it. This is a place where I still feel Bruce in every room. This is the place where I find solace and comfort all around me… This is the place where my heart finds peace.

Grief is hard. It creates a different path… a different journey for each of us. For some of us, this journey can sometimes be an emotional roller coaster. Some days (or weeks) are better than others, and there are still other weeks where we wonder if we will make it through. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean… what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Grieving for All of Us

“A house divided against itself, cannot stand.“
~ Abraham Lincoln

This week, as our nation continues to divide itself, I am grieving… for all of us. I keep wondering how in the world we got to such a place… Yes, I know the history behind this week takes us back many, many years. However, I am talking about this newest phenomenon… I am referring to this space where the only opinions many people want to hear are those that mirror their own. Anything else and there is a complete and total disconnect. No longer is there a mutual respect, which not only allows for different opinions, but it also allows us to sit down and respectfully discuss those opinions.

But not in today’s world… not anymore. Now, we have friends and families divided – completely divided and turning on each other – and for what?? Because one side has to be the only right side? Because the idea that maybe that isn’t so, can’t be discussed or tolerated.

Just this week, as my daughter and I sat in a restaurant, we found ourselves whispering about the latest news stories – too afraid to talk out loud for fear of violence from the strangers sitting around us. When the waitress walked up without us realizing it, and tried to join in, we completely stopped talking… Again, too afraid of any repercussions that people today somehow feel are their “right” to carry out.

I grieve deeply as I see friends and families hurl insults and accusations at one another on social media… Or dig in their heels about theories rather than listening to one another, searching for truth and facts, talking rationally, and letting the constitution with all its checks and balances function the way it is meant to.

I grieve for all of this. I have friends and family on both sides of the political arena, and whether I agree with their opinions or not, I still love them. If we can have a respectful discussion – great! If that can’t happen, (and there are times when it can’t), I don’t hesitate to say, “We can’t talk about this,” and I move the conversation to something else… But it grieves me…

After Bruce died, I struggled to understand why that had to happen… And now, with all of this craziness, I am struggling again… struggling to understand this loss, as well. For goodness sake, how in the world did we let it get to this point?

While each person may be different, I honestly don’t believe this started last week, or two months ago, or even four years ago. I think this has been a cancer that has been allowed to grow over many years and for many reasons. For the mainline population, I think many people simply stopped holding the information they ingest accountable, as well as their own responses to it. People stopped looking for truth. If someone they trusted said something, suddenly that was good enough to be truth.

Then, to add to the mix, many people started getting so caught up in “their rights,” they forgot about responsibility and respect. I don’t know about everyone else, but I was always taught that our lives need to include a balance of all three – rights, responsibility, and respect… But somewhere along the line, we have lost that… And I grieve for that loss.

As functional parents, we would never let any of our children demand their own way, then fight with each other to achieve it. We don’t tolerate name-calling or let them destroy each other’s property in order to get their own way. Instead, we teach them to think rationally… to look for a better solution… to talk to each, get to the root of the issue (with our help, if necessary), and find a way to work it out in a peaceful manner. We teach them that violence is not the answer. Why? Because we are trying to also teach them to have respect and responsibility for each other and the family. Because we know, “A house divided against itself…”

So… why are we as adults not holding ourselves to the same standard?

I am not writing this to be political… I don’t want to start a political commentary or discussion. I am simply saying that I am grieving because I miss us… All of us… A group of vastly different people with various opinions who were once able to talk about those differences while still caring about each other and working together… with none of us demanding our own way…

I miss that… I grieve the loss of that… And I also hope (and pray) that enough of us feel this same way… Enough of us are grieving what we have become and are willing to work as hard as we can, in order to find our way back to one another.

I know, this week I have strayed from my usual topic… Then again, maybe I haven’t. After all, we all grieve… We grieve for all kinds of people and things… This week I am just happen to be grieving for all of us… every single one…

Grief is hard. For some of us, this can create an emotional roller coaster. As for me, I thank you for the continued opportunity to share my feelings and experiences with you… (Like the ones this week.) It makes me feel as if there are others out there who understand what I mean… what I feel.

It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… All I Want for Christmas

“All I want for Christmas is you.” ~ Mariah Carey & Walter Afanasieff

Today, I sit here listening to the Christmas music on the radio and staring at the lights on our tree. It’s beautiful… It’s all so beautiful.

So why am I crying?

After all, my entire life I have loved this season. I love everything about it… But this year, I am struggling to find the Christmas spirit. I’m trying! I really am, but it feels so elusive this year… What’s wrong with me?

Despite the craziness in the world right now, our family has been so blessed this year. We have loved having this time together as a family. Instead of spending our days rushing from one thing to the next, it has been so nice to just enjoy the simple things like family walks, playing games, doing puzzles, and even making up our own crazy, three-person version of badminton. It’s all been pretty fun… And now with the holidays, we are relearning how to enjoy this season without all the parades and parties. Instead, we are keeping this simple too. It’s different, but I love it. I do! It’s great!

So why am I struggling?

I know part of it is that despite the years, I still wish Bruce were here to share it… I hate that he is gone. I hate doing this without him (again). I would give anything for just one more holiday season with him. That is really all I want for Christmas – to be able to share all the things I love about this season with him just one more time… But that isn’t to be… And that makes me sad.

I have found myself crying every night this week. It’s not just that I miss Bruce – although that is a huge piece of it. It’s more than that. You see, most days, I can almost feel him next to me, and that brings me a certain peace… Many times, that is what gets me through those days when the world around me feels overwhelming, as well as those nights when I find myself reaching out in the dark to find emptiness beside me.

The last few days, though, I haven’t felt that… I haven’t felt him near me. I haven’t felt that peace… I feel like I am on my own, (which I know, I technically am)… But it feels different. It’s hard to explain.

When Bruce died, I felt lost… abandoned… completely hopeless. I didn’t really care what the next day held, because no matter what a day might hold, it would be without Bruce. However, as time has passed, I really have learned to feel hope again… I have learned to appreciate the brevity of life and the preciousness of each moment. I think that is why I am struggling with the season this year… There is an inner struggle between missing what was and appreciating what is.

I treasure the memories of our Christmases together. Yet, I don’t want to miss out on the memories we are making this year. I know this time is precious too… I just wish there were a way to have it all – Christmas now… but with Bruce, too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXQViqx6GMY&ab_channel=MariahCareyVEVO

I know it’s okay to feel what I feel. I know I can’t work through a feeling, if I don’t allow myself to feel it in the first place. So, I guess, I will keep this simple too… I will be good to myself. I will surround myself with people who love me and understand. I will ask for lots of extra hugs and patience, as I find my way through my emotions and this season.

In the end, I know I won’t get all I want for Christmas. No matter how hard I wish it, Bruce will not be here. That is reality. However, I truly believe that over the next few days, I can find that spirit of love and hope because of the people around me… People I love… People I treasure… People I keep close to my heart…

The holidays can hard, confusing, and an emotional roller coaster, when you are experiencing grief. Grief changes how we look at life and the world around us. It changes how we experience everything. This can make it hard to find the Christmas spirit and even harder to celebrate. Sometimes the best we can do is to just keep trying – don’t quit… don’t give up on yourself. Ask for what you need. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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Peace, Love and Grief… Things I Miss…

Throughout this season the memories seem to come fast and furious. Each tradition… each decoration holds a memory. While at the same time, we are busy creating new ones. I become nostalgic when those memories are from my own childhood. My kids and I often find ourselves laughing at some of the memories from their childhood. When the memories involve Bruce, I find myself missing him and wishing he were here. And the funny thing is most of the time these are all happening at once.

For example,…

I can remember my grandfather stuffing everyone into his car and driving us downtown to see all the lights. When my kids were little, I kept this tradition… Every Christmas Eve, I loaded all the kids into the car, and off we went to see the neighborhood lights. When Bruce and I got married, he knew right away how much I love Christmas lights. (Mainly because I don’t hide it very well.) I remember how excited he was that first year when he continued the tradition and took me to one of those huge drive-through light displays. In fact, we went every year, even when we moved here to Florida.

To this day, that is still one of my favorite traditions… In fact, the other day on our way home from dinner, my daughter took a short detour. Suddenly, there we were driving around looking at lights. It was wonderful… and at the same time, I just kept wishing Bruce were there, too…

Decorating the tree is another one… As a kid, I used to love decorating the tree. My parents always waited until mid-December, and by that time, my excitement level was over the top. With my own kids, we always bought our tree the weekend after Thanksgiving, and started decorating it right away. Each of the kids had their own “special” decorations that they loved to put on the tree, so it was a process… But it was a fun process.

When Bruce and I got married, he added another tradition… We didn’t just buy a tree. According to his family tradition, we went to a tree farm where the youngest child picked the tree. That first year it was my youngest who got to do honors. Then, Bruce laid on his belly in the snow and cut it down. (Just thinking about that day, makes my heart warm.)

Eventually, it was just the two of us, so we changed it up a bit. Since we had met at Christmas time in the tropics, we decided to change out the fir tree for a palm tree. This new tradition was original, and it was perfectly “us.” Every year, even since he died, that palm tree has been strung up with lights… And it makes me smile.

Now, there a is child in the house again. So, we are back to the huge fir tree with all the decorations from when my kids were little, plus all the new ones collected through the last few years. It is overloaded, and it is beautiful. I love how it smells. I love the lights. I love the decorations and the stories they hold. I love all of it… and at the same time, I just keep wishing Bruce were here to love it, too…

Then, there is the music… I love Christmas music! I have sung in choirs since I was about three years old, and Christmas time always meant special songs and special performances… As a child, I loved the white robes with the huge red bows, as much as the Nativity costumes where I inevitably was dressed as an angel complete with halo and wings.

As an adult, I also directed choirs, so there was a whole new excitement and preparation for the season. (Actually, I think I just enjoyed the excuse to start listening and singing Christmas music much earlier than would otherwise be acceptable.) Either way, through the years, Christmas became synonymous with Christmas music – there was never one without the other. Christmas always meant rehearsals and concerts… Music seemed to fill every extra minute (if there even is such a thing) during this season.

After Bruce and I were married, even he learned to love the Christmas music… His favorites were the Charlie Brown Soundtrack and the John Denver and Muppets Christmas Album. I used to love coming home to find one of those playing on the stereo, and him humming along as he cooked… It was simply perfect!

After he died, I stopped singing… I just couldn’t do it anymore. It took a couple of years before I could sing again… And it was Christmas music that re-ignited my heart and my voice. For the first few years, I hadn’t been able to even listen to it. Then one year, as I was driving, John Denver and the Muppets singing The Twelve Days of Christmas came on the radio. Without even thinking about it, I found myself singing along… and smiling. It seemed that while I had lost my passion to sing when he died, somehow, here he was giving that gift back to me years later.

This year, I am simply humming… Due damage to my vocal folds from the radiation treatments years ago, I can no longer sing. I can hum though! So, even now, Christmas music is playing just about 24/7… and I am humming along with every song, while my grandson, (who now knows all the words), sings along. I love it! It makes me smile all day long… and at the same time, I just keep wishing Bruce were here, too…

I love this season. I love everything about it…. I simply wish Bruce were here to share it… Just one more time… Just one more season… Because that is what I miss most – sharing all the things I love about this season with him.

This can be a hard, confusing, emotional season when you are experiencing deep grief. Grief changes how we look at life and the world around us. It changes how we experience the holidays. This can make it hard to celebrate and even harder to be joyful. Yet, it is in remembering and finding those blessings that we are able to celebrate at all.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What are the things you miss most about the way you shared this season with your loved one? Have you had to make any changes in order to navigate this season? How do you manage those? We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… A Season to be Thankful

This is the season when we all focus on the blessings in our lives, right? It is a season to be thankful for all those blessings. Yet, at this time of year, I somehow always find myself struggling. I want to be thankful… In fact, I am thankful. However, I seem to always find myself caught between emotions. I am torn between missing Bruce and not wanting to celebrate the holidays without him (again), and wanting to completely submerge myself into celebrating the holidays with my loved ones and turn my back on the memories of the past… Memories that I wish more than anything were real right now.

This year, my grandson was supposed to spend Thanksgiving with his father. Because we didn’t feel safe putting him on a plane with the pandemic, we chose to meet halfway. For our little family, we made the decision to rent a small house on the river there for the week, rather than drive back and forth (and back and forth). It has been a lovely little place, quiet and peaceful, with a dock, kayaks, and fishing. It is also the town where Bruce’s parents used to live. So, for me, there are a lot of sweet, sweet memories here.

From the minute we drove into town, I felt my heart smiling. This has been such a special week as we have visited every spot where Bruce and I used to hang out whenever we were here. What a blessing to be here!

Still, at the same time, there is a part of me that wants to just sit down and cry… Where is he? Why isn’t he here with us? Even at a strange table, there is an empty chair beside me that breaks my heart…

Then, as fate would have it, my father sent me an email… Because of the virus, he and my mother are spending the holiday alone… as are most of us. I hate it… Part of what gets me through this season is being surrounded by family – focusing on the people I love. While I know he was speaking from his own heart, his words spoke to my own, as well…

“I was just thinking earlier of Thanksgivings and Christmases past, and hoping that your day will be one like those: overflowing with warmth and happy pandemonium, wrapped in family and in the love of family, and conscious of all that you (and we) have been given. Amid all the things we allow to bother us, there’s much to be thankful for, isn’t there? Much more of blessings than of burdens; much more of hope than of discouragement; much more of love than of whatever exists in the absence of love. (I honestly don’t know what that would be; I’ve only known love.)

Look around you at the faces you love. You’re looking at an inventory of unspeakable blessing; take the opportunity and let it fill your heart, and then you’ll be ready to give thanks to the Source of all that blessing.

In our hearts we’ll be doing that same thing. We do it often, anyway. And don’t read anything into this email except joy. Life brings changes, but they’re not as bad as the world would have you believe. I honestly believe the changes just help us to get our priorities straight. ‘There is a season for everything under heaven,’ and our time — our age, frankly — is a good time for getting priorities straight. Our day will be as happy and as joyous… and as thankful as yours. Quieter, perhaps, but happy. All of the blessings of years past are still ours, in memory and in fact, so we have much to be thankful for — grateful for — too.” ~ My dad

I have pondered these words several times this week and let them simply soak in… basking in the love and courage they express… Finding my own strength, by listening to his words of faith as a reminder of all the blessings – past and present – that make up my life.

Our God truly is a good God… And I have been blessed. So, I thank you, God, for not only giving me a season to be thankful, but for the faith of those I love who remind me of all the many blessings I have to be thankful for!

This can be a tough season when you are experiencing deep grief. Grief changes how we look at life and the world around us. This can make it hard to celebrate and even harder to be thankful. Yet, it is in remembering and finding those blessings that we are able to celebrate at all. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What changes have you had to navigate on this journey? How do you manage those? We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Changes

Changes… Lots of changes… I sometimes think might be one of the hardest parts of losing someone you love… all of the unending changes. It seems like every time I feel as I am getting steady on my feet again, I find one more thing in my life that has or is changing. And, yes, I know that is life in general, but this is different… These are changes that seem to have a direct connection back to Bruce and the reality of losing this man I love so very much.

Some things that have changed are things I expected, such as the empty chair at the table, or only my car in the driveway. Those were the concrete reminders of life without Bruce. However, there have been other changes, less visible yet much more profound.

I think two of the biggest areas of change for me are my own personality and, as a direct result, many of my relationships…

While I have heard it before, over the last few weeks, I have read several articles about the impact of traumatic events, and how they change us. I know it’s true… I have no doubt, because in my experience, after 23 years in a chaotic marriage, the change was huge. I had gone from being a confident (and probably a little bit stubborn) person before the marriage to being someone who struggled with trust and had absolutely no self-confidence by the end. It took years of counseling, patience, and tons of unconditional love to move through the debris that had been left of in the wake of that trauma.

But in my mind, the worst was over. I wasn’t a victim; I was a survivor! I had mustered up the courage I needed one last time and left. I had made changes. And with Bruce in my corner, I had once again found that self-confidence from years ago.

But then, just as quickly as he had come into my life, he was gone, and my world went black… Forget being confident… Forget anything… I struggled with the mere thought of simply taking my next breath.

All my life
I knew you were missing.
Then, like a miracle
You were there.
And,
Just as suddenly,
You were gone.
My soul cries…
~ Linda, October 2020

Talk about a traumatic event… It has been almost eight years, and it still brings tears to my eyes several times a week. It’s funny… I like to think I am “back to normal”, but sometimes things happen, and I realize “back to normal” may be an impossible destination for me.

The other day, this came to my attention when a friend made a simple comment… not one meant to hurt… not one said with any type of animosity… Simply a comment made as a matter of course… A simply stated fact.

There were several of us women talking, although I can’t honestly tell you what the conversation was about. I remember saying something to the effect of “… Losing Bruce was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced.” To which my friend gently touched my arm and simply said, “I know… It really changed you.” And the conversation moved on.

I’ve thought about that a lot since then. She’s right… I am not the same person I was eight years ago. I think I’m more quiet… more introverted… and probably more serious… I have to push myself in social situations, because many times, I would be just as content not to be there in the first place. But I am there, because I want to show the same love and acceptance to others that has been shown to me… So I go, and I push myself past my comfort zone.

As I think about where I was, where I am and my friend’s comment, I realize that if I’m honest, I think there have been other friends through the years who have tried to say the same thing. I think sometimes, not often, it has been said in the hopes that I will “fix” myself and go back to being the person they used to know “before”. However, I think most of the time it is said as a simple acceptance of who I am now… an acceptance that this was a traumatic event in my life which changed parts of my soul… parts that will likely never be the same. Yet, there is no pressure. They love me (period). They accept me as I am – bruises, changes, and all.

So, thank you! Thank you to all those wonderful people in my life who have stood firm by my side and loved me… I don’t think I would have ever been able to smile and laugh again, if it weren’t for you. I hope you know how much I love you all, and I am eternally grateful for your friendship, acceptance, and love.

If you have ever experienced a severe loss and deep grief, then you probably already know that traumatic events do change who we are. These are big events that change how we look at life and the world around us. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What changes have you had to navigate on this journey? How do you manage those? We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Have I Told You Lately?

“Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there’s no one above you
Fill, fill, fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that’s what you do”
~ Van Morrison

I love that song… My favorite version, the one that makes me smile and cry at the same time, was performed by Rod Stewart on his 1993 Unplugged and Seated album. I can’t tell you how many days I walked in the door after a long day, only to be greeted by Bruce with a glass of wine and this song playing on the stereo. He would smile, take me in his arms, and as we danced there in the kitchen, he would whisper those lyrics in my ear. My heart stops every time I remember those precious moments.

Precious moments… That is what has filled my mind this week.

Our 15th wedding anniversary is tomorrow. However, because I have had some time alone, I have been celebrating all weekend. Nothing big or crazy this year. I didn’t buy myself a gift, although I did buy some roses for the table. Mainly, because I know he would have done that… He always did.

I didn’t even take a sunrise walk on the beach this year. Honestly, I was awake in time, but instead, I wanted to just lie in our bed… in our room… and think about him… and us. There was just something about the warmth and security of our bed, that just held me there… longer than normal.

I did go for a long walk later in the afternoon. The tide was high and rough, so negotiating the shore was a struggle… But definitely worth every step. That is my happy place… The space where I can almost feel Bruce next to me. The space where I can talk to him out loud, and since no one else can hear me over the roar of the ocean, it feels so freeing. And there is something about knowing that his ashes were scattered out there that makes it such a precious space for me.

I didn’t go to our special restaurant this year. Things are too crazy in public, especially this weekend. There are people who are celebrating, and people who are angry. I definitely have my own opinions, but not this weekend. I just don’t want to get into the middle of something… Not this weekend, anyway. So, I had a steak dinner last night here at home… in our home… complete with champagne and dessert… and dancing along with a Jimmy Buffet concert playing on the TV.

Today, I have been listening to the music we used to enjoy and just thinking about us… Reading cards and emails we sent each other through the years. Honestly, I think this has been the best part of my weekend. I have smiled… and cried as I spend this day simply thinking about him… and us…

I remember meeting Bruce on a sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands, and my life changed forever…

I remember the two of us flying back and forth every three weeks between Michigan and South Carolina, falling more in love with every trip…

I remember when we finally decided we couldn’t do that anymore, and life changed my circumstances to make the “forever” decision even easier…

I remember moving to Michigan one autumn day and marrying this wonderful man a few days later…

I remember years of learning about each other and our love growing stronger day by day… year by year.

I remember moving to Florida, and how excited we were to embark on this new adventure… together.

I remember when we finally bought this little place on the coast – a place that was truly and completely ours…

I remember so many days in between all of these… Days filled with love… Days filled with adventure… Days filled with frustration and growth… Days filled with life… our life.

I know those days are gone, and I know those days are over. I also know that I don’t know how to let them go… How to let him go… I can’t… Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. He is still such a big part of my soul, and I think that is just what it is.

So… Happy Anniversary, Babe… I love you so much… still…

Life moves on.
Time passes.
But my heart stands still;
Lost in a space
Where I can still hear your voice.
Where your smile still greets mine.
Frozen in this space
Where you should be…
But you aren’t.
~ Linda, April 2020


Special days and anniversaries seem to carry emotions that can overwhelm us even years later. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What special days have you had to navigate lately? What do you remember? How do you celebrate? How do you manage those emotions? We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… The Loss of a Friend

I want to tell you about my friend, Tom…

I met Tom when we were just kids… I mean young kids – not even teenagers yet. We went to the same church, and while Tom was a year or so younger than me, we were always in the same youth group and choir. Tom was always that skinny kid that simply loved the world and assumed the world loved him back. I would even dare to say that most of us thought of him as a little bit nerdy… But then again, so were most of us (at least, I know I was), so it was all fine. We all loved each other!

Tom had this amazing character… What I would call an “old soul.” For example, we all knew he was not the picture of health growing up. He had a heart condition, but he never let that define him. In fact, he never let it stop him from doing whatever he wanted… “Can’t” just never seemed to be a part of his vocabulary. He also had this way of seeing something special in everyone, (maybe that is why he loved us all). Here I was, this skinny, nerdy, awkward girl, who didn’t see herself as anything special, but Tom did. From the very beginning he told me that my smile lit up a room, and “Sunshine” became his nickname for me. (I still love that!)

Tom and I remained friends all through middle school and high school. However, as time passed, I moved away, and evidently so did he… And as it seems to happen often with childhood friends, we lost touch…

Then one day a few years ago, out of the blue, I received a Face Book message that started with “Hi there, Sunshine!” and immediately I knew who it was… and I smiled. Through the years, we have talked about the loss of his father, and my loss of Bruce. He would send me articles or blogs on grief that he thought might mean a lot to me, and they always seemed to be spot on. He was also one of my biggest supporters when it came to this blog – commenting on specific posts or sharing it on his own wall several times a year.

Despite the years that had passed, he was still Tom… He was still kind, and he still believed that each person could make a difference. He still spoke his mind and welcomed discussions with people who had different thoughts and opinions than his own. He often said that change is only possible when both sides of an issue remain at the table – talking and sharing. He became my example to follow of never shutting the door on a difficult conversation.

So, when I wrote last week’s blog, which was about one of those discussions gone awry, I really didn’t think I would be writing a continuation this week… Yet here I am.

Last week, I wrote about my grief over the loss of our relationships with each other – all of us. I wrote about how we have let a stranger, named “Politics”, come between so many of us and the people we know and love. In many cases, I have observed people throwing away years of friendship… and for what? For things that seem to change with the next news story?

Yes, we can have our different opinions… We should… It is how we learn and grow… It is how we develop empathy for those around us. So, I wonder… do we have to behave as if we hate each other while doing that?

I don’t get it…

I also wrote about a particular post where friends were actually saying some pretty mean things about people and to people. There was even a point in the discussion where the topic at hand was tossed aside and the name-calling started. Yet even that wasn’t the end of it. The name-calling took on another twist, as people even started making fun of a person’s name… Tom’s name… Seriously? I couldn’t believe it. What was happening? How did we get here? When did we forget to love each other? My heart was breaking with each word on the screen.

I had a feeling when I wrote that blog, I would get a message from Tom. I knew he would read it. I knew he would recognize the post, and I knew he would reach out to me… but he didn’t… not a word… It was crickets.

Then a couple of days later, I learned why…

Tom died.

Just like that.

He is gone.

I cried as read the words posted on his Face Book wall… First, I cried for Tom. He gave so much to so many, and I know he wouldn’t have felt like he was done. I also cried for Tom’s wife, because I know how painful her loss must be… I know the road ahead of her. (Widowhood is an exclusive club that no one wants to join.). Then, I cried for me, and how much I will miss his kind words and support. I will miss his example of trying to make this world a better place. Finally, I cried for our friends. I can’t imagine how it must feel to know that your last words to a life-long friend were those of an emotionally-charged argument… I cried for all of us.

Even now, days later when I think of all of this, I cry…

What happened to us? At what point did we become those people who resort to name calling when a discussion gets tough? When did we start believing in violence and anger at all costs? When did we stop respecting each other’s right to a different opinion? When did we stop listening to each other and looking for common ground to build on? When did we stop caring about and loving one another? Shoot… When did we forget what love truly is?

Then on Friday, I read another post from a friend who is a retired Methodist pastor. Her words, which are much more eloquent than my own, gave me a starting point in this chaos… and that gives me hope.

“We have real problems that cannot be solved until our moral compass is reset. God change our hearts for good. Give us courage to do that which is honorable and right. Help us be not afraid to welcome and love one another. Lead us, Lord. Lead us into righteousness. May my will be your will. Amen.” ~ Lib Campbell, founder of avitualchurch.com

My heart has been broken this week, as I say good-bye to another friend. Good friends – friends who stick with you through the good and the bad, are a rare and precious gift. Tom was such a gift.

I know these are also crazy times, and many of us have lost friends and loved ones. We have had to say good-bye from a distance, and that, in and of itself, is another hardship… But we are not alone. We have the choice to stick together… to be kind and to support each other. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. Has anyone else felt grief over our current situation? Does anyone else know what I mean?

These are tough times and perhaps dealing with our personal loss makes us a little more sensitive to any grief we might be feeling about our political climate, as well. Let us know what you think. We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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