Tag: grieve

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… 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… Things You Taught Me, Part 1

I spent this last week at a spiritual retreat on the coast of Georgia. What a blessing! It was a week of quiet and deep self-reflection. It was a time to think and process without all the noise of daily life and routines… And more important, it was a week of healing. Over the next few weeks, I hope you will humor me, as I share some of what I experienced there and how it has impacted my grief for Bruce and this path we call life…

I spent most of my life caught up in a religion of rules and exclusivity… A religion of “believe or burn” … a religion of fear and distrust… At least, that was the way I experienced it. While I had made my fair share of mistakes, I thought I was doing okay… I was trying to be “devout” and do the “right things.” Then Bruce died, and my world fell apart…

How could a God who loved me, give me this wonderful gift of a man and then just as quickly take it away? Why would he do that? What kind of love is that?

I struggled with those questions (and more)… My grief journey soon included not only my grief for the loss of Bruce, but also, a grief for the loss of my faith. Bruce was gone… My faith and trust in God were gone. I wanted Bruce back more than anything else, but my faith wasn’t something I wanted to think about… I was done.

However, several months later, I had a dream – a dream that started this journey and led me back home to a place in my soul where I had never been before.

Day 1 Reflections:

Hi Babe,
I am supposed to be thinking about whether or not I believe God made me for himself, and if I believe God is big enough for me… That is a big question.

Years ago, I would have said, “No.” After you died, the God I had been taught to believe in was not enough… because I was not enough. I didn’t believe he loved me as I was… And that led to more confusion. I couldn’t understand why he made me (or any of us) at all, if he couldn’t love me as he made me (flawed and imperfect). If I can love my own child – flaws and all, why couldn’t he do the same with me? So, no… I didn’t trust him – not at all.

Then in a dream, you told me, “God is not the God of your parents. He is so much more… And he loves you. He created all of you… each part, and he loves all of you.”

It took me years to move past a concrete religion to a spiritual faith… And you led me there, Babe. Through your legacy, you led me to speakers and books that slowly showed me a different way to believe in God. Now… finally, your statement made early in our relationship makes sense… “Yes,” you said, “I am a Christian, but not in the same way you are.” At the time, I prayed for your soul… When honestly, you had the answer I needed.

Thank you for being my teacher, especially over these past six years.

 

Dear God, my love,
Thank you for this morning. Thank you for a faith of connection and love versus do’s and don’ts/who’s in and who’s out. Thank you for all the things that led me to this place… on this day… with these people. I am here this week, learning that I am not alone… That is my miracle today, and I am so very thankful. It is so wonderful to know, I really can trust you, even when life feels like it is falling apart around me… I just had to find you. No, you found me (when I was ready). And as you told me, “Linda, don’t worry. If you miss me (and I did for so long), I will find you… And you did.
I love you… Always and Forever!

It’s funny how those we love can still direct us even after they are gone. Bruce left a legacy that I am still unraveling and is still influencing my life… That is a blessing I never expected or knew could exist!

What about you? Have you ever found yourself reading their books, listening to their music or the things that influenced their lives? What have you learned? This journey can be so very hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. 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… Those First Few Mother’s Days

I remember years ago when my kids were little, they would ask what I wanted for Mother’s Day, and I would always give the same response… I just wanted a day of quiet – a day all to myself. Well, that first year after Bruce died, I got it. I spent the day alone and let me tell you – it wasn’t all I thought it would be. I found myself longing for those days of endless chaos. So, be careful what you ask for – you just might get it.

As much as I would love to “pretty it up” and make it more positive, it is more important to be honest about what my grief journey involved. So, I need to be honest about this day as well, and this is my story from those first few Mother’s Days… spent alone…

I love the fact that there is a day set aside to celebrate my Mom and Bruce’s Mom and all that they both did for us… without the two of them, the “we” that was Bruce and I would never have been. I, also, love that there is a day when my daughter is celebrated for being the fabulous mother that she is. My grandson is my whole heart, and as his mother, she makes that happen. My problem, however, comes when I try to apply the sentiment of the day to myself… This is where I struggle.

In the processes of leaving my first marriage, meeting, loving and losing Bruce, there are so many areas of my life in which I have grown and developed. However, Mother’s Day is a day I dread… There are emotions attached to this day that makes breathing a struggle.

To give a little bit of background, I was raised to believe that divorce is not an option… marriage is for life. So, when I left (aka – ran away from) my first husband, I struggled with guilt.

Therefore, after I left my first marriage, I needed to come to terms with what had transpired over the years, and how I had enabled the behaviors that brought to run away and eventually divorce. I also had to accept the fact that my job as their mother was to protect my kids. While I thought I was protecting them at the time, the reality was different. They endured quite a bit at the hands of their father, and I failed to protect them. Luckily, my kids turned out great (in spite of me) … but this is where my dread of Mother’s Day comes from… It comes from within myself.

For the first few years after I left my first marriage, we were still in SC, so it was easy to center the day around my mother and grandmother… I could ignore my own dread and put my energy into them.

When I met Bruce, he understood my feelings, but he had a completely different perspective. He saw me in a light without judgement. He wanted to celebrate what he called “the strength to leave” and likened it to the legend of a mother pelican.

On our first Mother’s Day together, after only 6 months of marriage, I didn’t expect anything from him – I wasn’t his mother nor the mother of his daughter. But he saw it differently. When I awoke that morning, he had a card tucked under the mattress on his side of the bed. He was absolutely beaming when he handed it to me. (I still have that card… and every other one he ever gave me.) Inside was a beautiful message of love along with 3 tickets to the opera for that afternoon.

Imagine it… Here was my body-building, truck-driving, football-loving husband willing to spend the afternoon at the opera, because he knew how much I would love it… and he included my daughter so that it was a “family affair” – exactly what the day was meant to be. I was (and still am) uncomfortable with this day, but I smile when I remember how he always insisted on celebrating me as a mother…

Flash forward to the first Mother’s Day after Bruce passed… I found myself struggling in a different light. The kids had been grown and gone for years… and without Bruce, I found myself alone.

Here are a few excerpts from my journal over the last few years. I wasn’t looking for anything really. I only wanted people to understand the following – if you know someone who is has lost someone that connects to their “mother role”, please, reach out to them… they need you.

May 12, 2013:
* It is four months today… and Mother’s Day… and I’m alone… it has been a really hard day. A few days ago, I wrote that I thought I was still here for my kids, but today I am not so sure… they are grown and gone with lives and families of their own. They love me. (I know that without a doubt.) … But I would not say they need me.

* My biggest issue is that I need to stop looking to my kids for comfort… that is not their job and it is not fair to them. Bruce is gone. I am sad. And I miss him more than I ever could have imagined – but those are my issues… no one else’s. I have to figure this out myself before I drive everyone off. I love them and they love me, but this will drive them away if I’m not careful… I need some courage – I am losing my confidence.

May 11, 2014:
* It’s Mother’s Day… I’m trying not to feel bad about being alone. I know we all live too far apart for anyone to come for just a day. I just find that “special” days are hard now that they aren’t so “special” – just another day.

* I just don’t want to be here alone. The kids have called or skyped… It’s funny how something so simple means so much. I know I’m not entitled to expect anything but would be nice to feel special.
May 10, 2015:

* Yuck! Mother’s Day #3 without you, Babe… alone…again. The kids have already started calling this morning which makes me smile.

* It is still hard to accept – I wish I had been a better mom. If I could, I would do things different… Being a mom was the one thing I always wanted to do and be when I grew up… and I really managed to screw it up.

* Today is one of those days when I am hanging on by a thread. I feel myself slipping into a darkness that seems to surround every thought. I need to turn this thought process around. I am trying so hard not to fall down that rabbit hole of self-doubt and self-loathing today, but it is hard.
Current reflections for the day:

Six years later, my Mother’s Day was wonderful! Life is different, but I am learning to adjust.
* Yes, there is still a lot of guilt and “I-wish-I-had’s”, but I can’t change the past… Only the future… And I work at that one.

* I still miss him… I wish more than anything I could physically be with Bruce, all of my kids and my grandson, but that is not where we are as a family. Instead, I got to talk to all of my kids, and spend the day with two of them (and my grandson). I was able to talk to both my mom and Bruce’s mom – a blessing beyond words.

* God did then and does continue to provide the love and support I need to get through each day… not just Mother’s Day… and I am eternally thankful for that.

So, whether you spent this day alone or with those you love, I pray today sent you at least one smile… from my heart to yours…

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… I Don’t Need to Be Fixed

How long will this pain live inside me?
How long will I have to smile at the world when all I want to do is cry?
I find myself pulling ever further inward…
No one understands.
They are not cruel… They care.
But they do not know how to do anything other than talk me out of my feelings…
or distract me.
They love me…
I love them…
But there is a chasm between them and me…
And another between me and you…
I am alone…
And it hurts so bad.
~ Linda, November 2015

It’s hard to watch someone you love hurt… It’s even harder to realize you can’t do anything for that person to make it stop hurting…

As a mother, I get that… When my kids were little and came to me with a “boo-boo” (real or imagined), there were all kinds of ways to fix it. Sometimes a simple “kiss to make it feel better” or a band-aid over unbroken skin was all that was needed, while other wounds required more realistic answers. However, no matter what, there seemed to always be a way to “fix” it.

Maybe you can relate? We want to be able to help those we love feel better… We want them to smile and laugh again. We want to have the answers, but the hard truth is – sometimes we don’t have the answers… And that can be hard to accept…

I think that is where I found a disconnect at the beginning of this journey…

Almost immediately, I started to hear the pointless phrases… Phrases that were meant to help, but in fact, only made it hurt more. I was so relieved when I found a book on grief that validated my feelings on these phrases and why they do more harm than good.

In case you are curious, here are some of these phrases and why they didn’t really help at all. Since they are pretty common, perhaps you have heard a few of these on your own journey…

1. “Bruce would want you to…” – When this phrase is used by people who knew him, there is some validity to be considered. However, when it is used by anyone who didn’t know him, it feels extremely manipulative. I’m not stupid… I know it whatever it was came from their own thoughts. However, putting Bruce’s name in front of it added some kind of non-existent authority (and guilt for me). Honestly, I felt nothing but resentment and anger the moment those words left their mouth.

2. “He’s in a better place.” – This is another phrase, which throws a bit of guilt at the person grieving. After all, I should be happy not sad, right? My thoughts were always a resounding, “No, he isn’t!” Was being by my side such a bad place? We were happy. We belong to together.

3. “God just needed another angel.” – Good grief, we all know life has a beginning and an end, but once again, here is another phrase filled with religious guilt. After all, he is with God, so I should be happy, right? My thoughts? Great – make me feel like God did this to us… Because a little anger thrown in God’s direction is going to be helpful, right? Honestly, God doesn’t “need” anything, life just happens (and sometimes it sucks)!

4. “It will get better with time.” – I am a list person, so I thought this one might be true… I hoped this one might be true… I did all the things I could find that should help, and while they have gone a long way toward helping me deal with my emotions and heal, so far, I would say, “No… Not really… not completely.”

5. “You need to move on.” – Really? Why? So, you can feel better? Let’s be honest… Life will keep moving forward no matter what we do. However, this phrase (said too early or by the wrong person) left me feeling guilty for being sad… Seriously? Everyone grieves in their own way and on their own time schedule… Be patient. There is time for healing and learning to live a new way. There is no need to feel rushed.

6. “You need to ____” – Why? Because they think so? Because it is what they believe they would do? Again… more guilt… Plus, does anyone really like being told what to do? Let’s be realistic, we all live life differently, and we will all grieve differently… and that’s okay.

7. “You can always remarry.” – Oh seriously! Let’s minimize love, marriage and relationships down to nothing more than a contract… If you think you can replace one relationship with another like paint colors on the wall, please don’t pretend to be my friend. I want people around me who understand love, connections, and commitment. (Honestly, this was only said to me by people who barely knew me, so ignoring it was pretty easy.)

8. “Fake it till you make it.” – When is that? And why? Is this so I will feel better or so they will? I thought it was better to work through our feelings not shove them down inside. So if I fake being fine, is that really helpful in my grief? Or does it relieve them from trying to fix everything? Admittedly, there may be times and places for this one, but it isn’t a mantra to live by.

Am I angry? No, and I apologize if I sound like I am. I am just trying to make a point… While the people who say these things mean well (and I do believe that is their intent), theses phrases can actually cause more harm than good. I know for me, it only pushed me further and further into myself. Whenever someone said one of these phrases to me, I stopped confiding in them… I stopped turning to them when I was “having a moment.”

It is sad to say, but these phrases only created more isolation for me, because I was worried that there was something wrong with me… I felt like no one wanted to listen anymore… I felt even more alone. It wasn’t until I read a book on grief, (The Grief Recovery Handbook, by James and Friedman), that I learned I wasn’t alone. I learned just how normal my responses to these phrases were and how they affected my grief.

But that’s not the end of this story…

I was also blessed with a handful of people in my life who knew right away, there would never be words to heal or “fix” me. These wonderful people stood by my side and understood that there was really nothing to be said or done to make the pain go away… And to their credit, they did what needed to be done… They never tried to “fix” anything. Instead, they spent time with me… They listened… And they held me when I cried… And those simple actions did a lot more toward helping me heal than any words ever could…

With the exception of, “I love you and I care…”

What about you? Have you ever felt like you were being pushed to put your grief aside? Has anyone ever offered empty phrases that were meant to help, but instead only caused more hurt? If so, you’re not alone… We all know this journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. 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.

Note: I apologize for the day-late postings last week and this week. I have been traveling where internet and computer use is either limited or non-existent. Next week, I should be back on schedule.

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 Journey is a Journey is a Journey

They call it a “grief journey,” but isn’t it really my same life journey with a turn I didn’t expect? My initial reaction is fear that I am lost… This was a wrong turn. But in time, I will get my bearings and keep moving forward…
~ Linda, September 2013

A “grief journey” … That’s what they call it… And honestly, it’s not a bad descriptor. Still… A journey is a journey is a journey… And life is a journey. It’s fine to divide it up into parts, but when all is said and done, it is all a journey.

Bruce’s sister wrote her second blog post this weekend, which touched my soul, Not Dead So Far. It is about her journey and growing older… As I read it, even though our lives are very different, I could relate to so much she had to say, which was basically – life is a journey… And if you’re still here, it ain’t over, yet, so keep going!

It’s funny, but that was only a recap of what I was already thinking…

I spent this last weekend camping in Stone Mountain, GA, outside Atlanta. Because we lived in this town for well over a decade, my daughter has a lot of memories here that she wanted to share with her son. So needless to say, we packed a lot of life into just a few days… We visited museums and aquariums, where her son loved the same exhibits she had loved as a child.

The majority of the weekend, though, was spent in Stone Mountain Park, a place we visited at least once a month when my kids were growing up… And despite the turmoil in our family back then, the days spent there hold nothing but fun memories for us.

In fact, one of the best memories that we couldn’t wait to share with my grandson was climbing that crazy mountain!

We had been talking about it for weeks… Trying to explain to my grandson about the mountain… That it is nothing more than a huge rock… A piece of granite that protrudes 1683 feet above sea level (give or take a few feet), and the trail up was “only” one mile.

We started at the base of the mountain early in the morning, laughing as we went. My grandson ran from one rock formation to the next, pointing out everything he saw with the excitement that only a nine-year-old boy can muster. His mother and l laughed watching him, telling him to explore as much as he wanted as long as he stayed within eyesight… We also threw in a little bit of advice to pace himself (although we both knew that landed on deaf ears). LOL!

Just like life, the first part of the journey was a gentle upward slope. There were some spots where the footing was a little precarious, but nothing major. We took breaks and helped each other as needed. Halfway up there was a shelter with benches, and we stopped for a quick protein snack, before starting the second half of the journey.

Freshly energized and ready to tackle what lay ahead, we started out again. However, the second half of the journey was much steeper… So steep, in fact, there were hand rails in some sections, and where there weren’t rails, it wasn’t unusual to see people crawling up on all fours to maintain their balance.

At this point, my grandson who has recently decided he doesn’t like heights, started slowing down… anxiety written on his face. His mother smiled, took his hand, and made him an offer no boy can refuse… A “secret” adventure…

This was the point, where as children, my kids would break away from the well-traveled path and crawl through a series of “caves.” (They are really just rock formations, but “caves” sounds way cooler!) He was all about it! After all, a journey is a journey, but a little bit of adventure always makes for a better journey!

Before too long, the three of us met back up at the top, so proud of what we had accomplished. As we stood at the top, cheering on those around us who were just arriving, what we observed is worth noting…

There were people who were proud of what they had just done, and others were didn’t really find it a challenge at all. There were people laughing and cheering on others, and just as many complaining about the path they had just completed. There were people taking pictures and looking in awe at the fabulous view all around us, and others who only wanted to purchase a ticket, so they could ride back down and avoid that downhill trek.

As for us, after about an hour or so of exploring the top, taking in the different views, buying our “I climbed Stone Mountain” T-shirts, and finding our campsite down below, we decided to make the trek back down the mountain, thinking “down” would be much easier than “up.”

But just like life… A journey is a journey is a journey… And the “down” journey held its own challenges.

First of all, there was gravel all over the mountain which had helped going up, but not so much going down… I am pretty sure we each found ourselves on our bottoms more than once. There were some parts that were so steep, I found myself hanging onto tree branches, my daughter’s shoulder or my grandson’s hand… whatever was offered or available.

Approximately three and a half hours after we started, we were back at the bottom… exhausted… and proud! WE HAD DONE IT!

We had each accomplished something – my grandson faced his fear of heights, my daughter stepped back into her childhood and smiled at the memories, and after a year of fighting cancer, I faced and conquered a huge physical challenge, when I wasn’t sure I had the stamina to do it!

It was quite the adventure, and as we drove away, all I could think about is how that journey up and down the mountain is just like life… While I might call my journey a “grief journey,” I guess all of life is a journey. In fact, it’s a journey that holds different challenges for each of us…

It is up to us how we face those challenges… We can face the challenges head on and cheer on those around us, or we can look for a way to avoid them. In other words, our life is what we make of it… it’s how we choose to make the journey that determines how we live and who we are…

How do I live without your love?
One breath at a time…
~ Linda, December 2013

What about you? Where are you on your journey? Are you on the gentle slope? Are you on all fours crawling just to make it to the top? Do you need to rest or do you some support? If so, you’re not alone… We all know this journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. 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… Thank you

“Thank you for being the reason I smile!” ~ 365 Relationship Quotes About Happiness to Live By

During the short time Bruce and I were together, I can remember writing thank you notes to his parents for the gift of this wonderful man they had raised. Even from the beginning, I knew I wanted to thank them… They needed to know that because of their parenting, this wonderful man had blessed my life. On a constant basis throughout our marriage, Bruce and I also never missed an opportunity to thank each other for all the ways we felt blessed because of what the other person added to our life. In all honesty, I believe this simple act had the biggest impact on our more-than-successful marriage than anything else.

There is nothing quite like being appreciative and feeling appreciated to build a strong relationship… which has led me to write the following in my journal this week…

Hi Babe!

I know there are so many times, I start writing with “I miss you so much.” However, today I just wanted to say, “Thank you.”

From the moment you first said, “Hello” to our last kiss goodnight, I never doubted your love… Quite an accomplishment given the situation I came from before I knew you. Yet, because of you, I learned what love really is and how to trust again.

You had the simplest ways of showing me that love…

I will always remember the time when we were first married… I had poured you a beer and when I handed it to you, it slipped to the floor, leaving glass and beer everywhere. It was a huge mess, and my instant response was pure fear!

Based on the experiences in my first marriage, I ran to the bathroom and locked myself in… So scared of the consequences I thought would come. I sat in silence waiting for you to come bang on the door and yell at me for making such a mess. That was what I had learned before you… But that never happened. Instead, I could hear you, through the door, cleaning up the mess.

Then, quietly you came and knocked ever so gently on the door. I can’t remember the exact words you said, but hesitantly, I opened the door. Gently, you reached out, took me in your arms and just held me… And I sobbed.

Once I had calmed down, we went back into the freshly cleaned kitchen where you proceeded to pour yourself another beer. I will never forget the next thing you did… You looked me in the eye, held up the glass as if to take a drink, and simply let it go… In disbelief, I watched it crash to the floor creating another new mess. Then, you took me back in your arms and said, “Life is messy sometimes. That’s okay… We can handle that… Nothing will ever make me stop loving you.”

That was my first real memory of the unconditional love that came to envelop my world with you. In that moment, I began to understand and experience true unconditional love… A love that changed my whole world.

But my appreciation doesn’t end there. You also taught me to be a better me… Not through nagging or criticism or anything remotely close to that. You never made me feel like you wanted me to be anything different than what I was in that moment. No… It was your quiet confidence in me that encouraged me.

I learned to take chances… I learn it was okay to fail… and try again. Through it all, you just smiled and encouraged me to try again or to try the next thing. You never told me what to do or not do… You simple smiled, asked me what I wanted to do, and loved me no matter what.

At first, when you died, I was lost. I didn’t think I could do anything else without you there… I missed your encouragement and your confidence. I’m even ashamed to admit it, but in a lot of ways, I lost a lot of the ground I had gained in my own growth. However, once I finally got my feet back under myself, that started to change.

There have been a few rough starts, but rather than letting that appreciation and love fade into the background, I have once again learned to use it to become a stronger person… A better version of me…

I can’t begin to tell you how many times when I am scared to try something new – something way outside my comfort zone – I think about you… And I know… In my mind, I can see you smile with those gentle, loving eyes… In my heart, I can hear your voice telling me you believe in me… I just need to believe in myself. It is almost like you are still here by my side as I gather my courage and push forward.

Thank you for that, Babe! Thank you for building a legacy so strong and so filled with love that even death can’t stop it. Even now, you still amaze me… The way you chose to live your life and love the people around you, still influences me six years later. That is amazing… You are amazing…

I love you, Babe… Always and forever!

“But there’s another kind of love. One that gives you the courage to be better than you are, one that makes you feel that anything is possible.” ~ Michael Bliss, Nights in Rodanthe

What about you? Does the love you shared still influence how you live your life now? If you could thank your loved one for how they changed and added to your life, what would you say? Do you struggle with how to hold onto that? If so, you’re not alone… We all know this journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. 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.