widow – Page 25 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… A Wedding… And He Was There

This weekend was a celebration… My youngest daughter got married! It was amazing to watch the her and her husband laugh and play throughout the entire day. It was a day which truly reflected each of them as individuals and who they are as a couple.

However, there were also some bittersweet moments, as well.

Years ago, when Bruce and I got married, it was the most wonderful day… It was a small, simple ceremony at the courthouse, with only a few family members present. In fact, because of timing and distance, my youngest daughter was the person from my family who was able to attend. I can’t say she was a willing, or enthusiastic, witness. (Now, we laugh about that.) However, in her defense, she had just been moved to a whole new state – away from her siblings – so her mother could marry a man she barely knew, while she was in the middle of high school.

The first few months were hard… She was very angry with Bruce and I. She didn’t want to be there… In fact, she didn’t want to be anywhere near either of us. However, the tide did turn (and it was sooner than I had expected). By the six-month mark, she was baking him cookies and referring to him as her “dad.”

Their relationship grew through the years as he filled a void in her life and became the loving father she didn’t have. Many nights I would come home to find him helping her with homework or giving hugs after a rough day. Many winter evenings were filled with the two of them having an indoor snowball fight (in winter) or a water war (in summer). He taught her how to snowboard and attended all of her concerts, dance competitions and theater productions. She relied on him for advice, such as which first apartment would be best or what next step to take in her life… And he was always there for her… Always.

Like many girls, she used to dream about what her wedding would be like when she got married. For example, she always wanted a beach wedding. As she got older, and their relationship got stronger, she would to tell Bruce that when she got married, she wanted him to walk her down the aisle. He would always get this huge grin on his face and tease her about wearing a bathing suit on the bottom and a tuxedo on the top. But in all honesty, he also talked about how much it meant to him… He was so honored that she would ask him to fill this spot on such an important day in her life.

But time was not on his side, and as you already know, he died before he could keep that promise.

So, as she began to plan this wedding, she had to make some different choices. She and her brother have always been close. In fact, he was the one to take her to her Father/Daughter dances when she was younger. So, she knew he was the one she wanted to walk her down the aisle.

However, she still wanted to include Bruce. Also, the groom has lost his father and brother in recent years and wanted to include them, as well. So, they placed a memorial table prominently in the reception hall with all of their pictures and a sign that read, “Forever in our hearts.” It was a beautiful way to include them on such a special day.

That seems like it would be the end of the story, but it really isn’t…

You see, throughout the years since Bruce died, pelicans have come to symbolize Bruce’s presence for me. Knowing they are considered a symbol of great love and sacrifice, every time I see them, I think of him… and I smile. In fact, each year on our anniversary, when I go out to the beach to toast the day with him, it never fails – there is always a flock of pelicans flying by with the exact number to match the year. (For example, there were ten pelicans on our tenth anniversary.)

Well, this celebration was no different… Each time she was out at the beach making preparations, a pelican flew by as if to say, “Yes, I am here.” Then on Friday, as she and her new husband were walking back down the aisle, she looked up and there it was… One lone pelican flying by… In her heart and in mine, that was a sign from Bruce… A sign that he really was there… And he wouldn’t have missed it for the world!

What about you? Have you ever felt the presence of your loved one? Is there a certain animal or thing that when you see it, you just know they are there with you? I know this journey can be hard, but I also believe there are blessings along the way, if we are open to seeing them. I also believe we are in this together and would love to hear your stories. 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

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Peace, Love and Grief… Back to That Ring Question

The ring… What to do about the ring?

That has been one of the quandaries for me since Bruce passed… but not his ring – mine. When Bruce died, I was handed the only jewelry he ever wore (and never took off) – his wedding band and a silver anchor necklace. Immediately, I slipped his wedding band onto the chain and placed it around my neck. I wore it there for years. In fact, I still wear it, but with all the surgery and radiation last year, I started tucking it into my clothes… as close to my heart as I can get it.

As for my wedding band, I didn’t even think about it for almost a year. It may sound strange, but I still felt married. (Honestly, there are a lot of times I have to remind myself that I am a widow… which technically means I’m not married, I guess.) That has been an on and off struggle for me as a widow…

For the longest time, it didn’t occur to me to “do” anything with my ring. However, over time I began to notice that different widows did different things in regard to their wedding bands. Some took it off immediately. Others moved it to their right hand, wore it on a chain around their neck or had it made into a different piece of jewelry. However, others just continued wearing it… I continued wearing mine… It just felt right at the time.

There are so many beautiful memories behind my ring. Every day, I would look at it and remember how much I had been loved, and how much I had loved him. It was a material representation of what we had… I couldn’t let go… I just couldn’t.

After the first year, I began to realize that while the ring brought me comfort, it also created some awkward conversations. Inevitably, someone would notice the ring and ask about my husband. I would answer that my husband had passed away and the conversation immediately became awkward. Caught off guard, people didn’t know how to respond, but I didn’t know how to answer any different. Finally, I came to the conclusion that, I should think about doing something different.

Doing what I usually do, I started with some research. Immediately, I found that there is no such thing as “widow’s ring etiquette.” There is no etiquette on what to do and when to do it. The bottom line is each person does what feels right for them… and what feels right at one point may change over time.

For a while, I tried placing my setting on Bruce’s chain with his ring, and wore them both around my neck… But my finger felt so empty! It was too weird! I decided to see if I could find a ring to wear on that same finger but would represent the changes in my life. I didn’t have anything in particular in mind. In my gut, though, I knew when I saw the right ring, I would know.

A few months into my search, I found what I felt was the perfect ring while in Mexico. It was a beautiful blue/violet tanzanite stone surrounded by a triangle of tiny diamonds. The stone was the color of the ocean where we met and spent so much time sailing, as well as the sky we dreamed under. The triangle symbolized strength, hope, spirituality, past/ present/ future and both the masculine and feminine (depending on the direction it points).

I loved it! It felt so perfect! I called it my “life ring.” It seemed to be a perfect representation of my life before Bruce and I met, our life together, and my future – whatever that might be.

I thought that would be it… For me, the ring question was finally answered… but things change.

Last year, when I was diagnosed with cancer, I was terrified! The idea of doing everything I needed to do without Bruce just seemed impossible. I didn’t think I had the strength to do it. I needed him by my side…

Then, one night as I removed the chain from around my neck, my ring caught my eye. It is the most beautiful piece of jewelry I have ever owned. However, more than that… Whenever I look at it, all I can think about it how much that man loved me, and how much I loved him. That ring was a symbol of us… side by side… for better or for worse… in sickness or in health…

In that moment, I made the decision… I put it back on.

All through my treatments, whenever I felt alone or afraid, I would look at that ring and know that Bruce was with me… I wasn’t alone. It probably sounds silly, but that ring (and everything it represented) gave me so much courage and strength. I would swear to you, it had as much to do with my healing and determination to live as any of the treatments I undertook.

So here I am… The cancer is gone, and I am on a healthy path, but the ring is still right here on my finger. It’s funny… I have come a long way in my grief. I am learning to “stand tall” a lot more than I cry. I am laughing and enjoying life again. I am feeling adventurous and stepping out in new directions. Yet, this ring remains on my finger. Honestly, I don’t know if I will take it off again or not… and I’m not really worried about it.

Why? Because it makes me smile… And when life offers you something that makes you smile; you should just enjoy it!

What about you? Have you ever found yourself in a quandary over the ring… Trying to decide on the best way to move forward and still not forget the past? This journey can be 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

Things You Taught Me, Part 3

I sat weeping
Big, fat tears,
Heaving sobs…
How could you love me?
… me?

I spent years being told how horrible I was…
So undeserving,
So unlovable.
I have spent a lifetime
Feeling like someone else’s garbage.

I needed you to understand
Why you shouldn’t love me,
But you only held me tighter
As the tears and sobs flowed from my soul.

When my tears began to slow,
You looked me in the eye
And smiled…

STOP!
You don’t understand.

I took a piece of paper.
I crumpled it in a ball
And spread it out again.
Then, I crumpled it again,
And smoothed it out again.
I did this several more times
As you watched in silence…

I tried to smooth it out one final time,
“This is me…
This is what you think you love.”

With a question in your eye,
You replied,
“This is how you see yourself?”
In my shame, I nodded.
“Is there any good in you,” you asked.
I shrugged…

You took a clean piece of paper
And placed it over the wrinkled page.
“This much good?”
I shook my head…
You didn’t understand.

I took the clean page,
And tore off a small corner;
I placed that in the center of the wrinkled page.
“Maybe this much,” I said
As the tears started to fall once again.

You looked at the paper.
You took a breath…
I waited…
Expecting,
But not wanting to hear,
I was right…

Instead,
You wiped my tears.
“You only see the wrinkles –
The mess left from has passed.
But when I look at you,
I only see this part.”
And you gently touched the smooth corner
Sitting in the middle of so many wrinkles…

In that moment,
My heart was made whole,
Because now,
I understood love…
True, unconditional love…
Love that I never knew existed.

This is love! This is how Bruce taught me about love. This is when I first began to understand that I could (and should) have this same expectation of God’s love for me. When I think about all the ways Bruce and I expressed our love for each other, I know this is what I can expect in my relationship with God.

I can remember running to the car or the door when he came home in the evening, because I was so excited to see him. He would always laugh as he drew me into his arms and kissed me. I remember being content to simply sit together – no TV, no talking – just sitting and holding hands for an hour or more… So much love passing back and forth in a simple touch. I remember the safe, secure feeling when I laid in his arms. I remember how strong and powerful he was. Yet, he was always so gentle – so careful to never cause me harm.

He never felt threatened by my questions or my independence, and never demanded his own authority. Ours was a relationship of love, trust and balance… It is what I want in my relationship with God.

Bruce taught me so much about how God loves me and how to love him. God does not relate to me through my “wrinkles,” (aka my“sin”). He is not interested in that at all! Instead, love is his primary characteristic… Which means he doesn’t love me in spite of myself… He loves me because of myself… He loves the very person I am. Of course, he would! (He made me.) If God really is a God of love, then how could his love for me be anything less than Bruce’s love for me?

I remember when you died, Babe, you said you would be by my side for as long as I needed you… I don’t know when that will be… It is hard to admit (because I still love you so much), but I feel I am getting closer and closer to that point.

I love you, Babe… Now and forever!

~ Linda, Journal Entry May 2019

The healing in my life and in my heart over the past few months has been uncanny. I know this journey isn’t over… There will always be more to learn and more hurdles to jump. However, knowing that I am loved… Knowing that this is where Bruce has led me, brings me great peace.

It’s funny how those we love can still direct us even after they are gone. I have been following and exploring Bruce’s legacy for years. To this day, I am still unraveling and learning, and he is still influencing my life.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Things You Taught Me, Part 2

As I mentioned last week, I went on a spiritual retreat a couple of weeks ago on the coast of Georgia. That week of quiet and deep self-reflection was such a blessing… I think the last time I felt so much healing in my soul was when Bruce was here… When he was such a vibrant part of my life… As I stated, I hope you will continue to humor me as I share a little bit more of what I experienced there and the impact it has had on my grief for Bruce and my on-going journey…

To give you a little bit of background, while I was baptized in the Methodist church as an infant, I actually spent my childhood and teen years in the Southern Baptist church and most of my adult life as a Roman Catholic. My experience in both was mostly one of religious rules and exclusivity… a “believe or burn” mentality. My experience was one of fear and distrust, but I didn’t know there was anything else out there. I knew I wasn’t perfect, but I thought I was doing okay… That is until Bruce died.

Then, I found I had a religion that couldn’t stand up to my questions… My world fell apart… How could a God who loved me, give this wonderful gift of a man and then just as quickly take it away? Why?

I wasn’t equipped with any real answers to that question, and so I become angry… very angry. My orderly world no longer made sense… The “Sunday School” answers weren’t enough… And I struggled. However, on this end of the story, I can tell you, that is a good thing, because I was forced to look at my faith and determine what I really believed, versus what I had been told to believe. It took me a long time, but day by day, I reassembled my faith from the ground up.

The funny thing is Bruce would never have told me what to believe or not believe. Instead, the way he chose to live his life and the legacy he left behind is really what helped me more than anything I had learned in my fifty years of religious practices. While Bruce’s death is probably the worst thing I have ever had to endure, it is also the thing that forced me down this path.

Last week I talked bout a dream I had early in this grief journey, in which Bruce told me that God is nothing like the God I had been taught to believe in all those years. God is so much more… But I still had so many unanswered questions…

Day 2 Reflections:
Hi Babe,

Wow! My mind is BLOWN! I swear it feels as if the speakers here have peered into my head and found all the crap… All the stuff that has been an obstacle with my faith… and now they say, “Nope, that really is crap… Let it go!” To take away the hierarchy of the trinity and temper all their qualities with love is what I have dreamed of… what I have needed… what you always lived… But I never knew how to articulate it.

When you died, I was so absolutely angry with God! Why didn’t he use his “power” to save you? Why did I have to be the one to fail at your CPR? What was the wisdom in that?

All my life I knew I had made mistakes, but I had asked for forgiveness – no! I had said I was sorry… I had never asked for forgiveness. I thought forgiveness had to come by proving how sorry I was. By proving I was worthy of it – by being devout enough… But I was told that God couldn’t love me or forgive me, because I didn’t understand “my place” … My lifestyle wasn’t “Christian enough.”

So, I learned to be quiet… Then, I stopped praying… Then, I stopped listening… Then, you died, Babe… And I was alone… all alone, and oh, so mad. There was nothing to love about God; nothing to trust. That is until you started me on my true spiritual journey, which has led me here… to this day and this class.

I feel so validated! I wanted to jump up in class this today and shout, “Did you hear this?! This is the good news! This is the most wondrous and exciting thing I have ever heard and understood!” The idea of the trinity – NO! The reality of the trinity being a balance of male/female, power, wisdom, goodness, and truth – all tempered in love… in all parts of the trinity in all things at all times is beyond my wildest thoughts!

This means I am in God (at all times), and God is in me (at all times), and God is in everything and every moment (at ALL times).

Do you realize what this also means???

God was with us, Babe, the night you died… God was in my tears and my horror as I watched you die in my arms. And God was in my anger… He held me when I railed against him and loved me when I cursed him. He held me tight when I begged him to take me too… But the problem wasn’t him… or me. It was my understanding of a gap between us that I couldn’t cross, and I felt like he refused to try… What a horrible thought. No wonder I was so angry.

And now, today, to realize there is no such gap… “There is no reality that is separate from what He created” ** … and “All shall be well, and All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.” *** This makes me feel hope.

I still grieve for you, Babe. I still don’t understand – but I trust God does care and loves me… Not only that, but more… Those are still “separation” thoughts. There is no separation – He is in me – experiencing all I have and will experience, just as much as He is in each tree and blade of grass. We are all his creation – we are all Him… We are all enfolded in his love and goodness, protected by his power and led by his wisdom.

What great news! Thank you, Babe for leading me here!

The healing that came in these days is amazing and powerful, as I came to realize so much of what Bruce had been trying to tell me all along. There was so much he showed me while he was here. Yet, it wasn’t until after his death that I finally “heard” him. He 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!

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

** Roberta Bondi

*** Julian of Norwich

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!

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

Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Where Life Takes Us

Time changes nothing on its own…
That is my job now.
This is a journey.
It is mine…
I must own it to survive it.
~ Linda, September 2013

This next week I will be traveling… heading to a spiritual retreat in GA. While normally I avoid being still for too long, this time I am looking forward to some down time – time to think and process without all the noise of daily life and routines. I know I am going to miss my family here and my home… And although this isn’t a long journey, I know that after a week, it will be a treat to return home.

This is the way life is…. filled with journeys – true journeys and metaphorical journeys. It is how we grow and learn and develop. It is how we discover new things about ourselves and how we expand our lives. In fact, when we suffer loss, what is it called? It is called a grief journey.

Like all other journeys, there is something to be learned, but unlike other journeys, I did not choose this one. It is not a path anyone would willingly take, but for those of us who find ourselves here, we didn’t have an option. In fact, now the only choices are to move forward or stand still. Many times along the way, I have hesitated, not quite willing to take the next step… Eventually, I do manage to take a breath and put one foot in front of the other… moving tentatively until I can get my bearings.

Life, itself, is a journey. It takes me where it will – sometimes there are choices and sometimes there is not… Some paths are scary, and others are absolutely amazing…

For Bruce and I, our journey started when we met while cruising in the Virgin Islands. Therefore, it only seemed fitting that throughout the years of our marriage, we did a lot of traveling. Like any journey, you learn a lot about a person when you travel with them. Bruce and I were no different.

We learned right away that traveling in a car together for any extended amount of time was not the best idea. Why? Well, Bruce did not snack at all while driving, and he liked it completely quiet. I, however, love to eat, drink, sing, talk, and play games. (In other words – I like to be entertained.)

I can remember a particular trip from Michigan to Alabama when I learned Bruce didn’t like opera. I was driving and he was napping (or trying to). So to fill the time, I sang opera the entire way. Guess who was not amused… Go figure! We both laughed about that one for years!

I have written several times about the night Bruce died. A few times, I mentioned the ride home from the hospital… alone. At the time, I remember thinking that this would be my life now… always coming home alone to no one. What I did not realize was the enormity of what that would entail. For years that was my life… And it was quite daunting. I can remember on many occasions sitting in the driveway in my car… Not wanting to walk inside to the overwhelming quiet that waited there for me.

The expanse of just how lonely this journey could be began to dawn on me in the early weeks after Bruce’s death. I would turn the corner and see Bruce’s truck still sitting there in the driveway. My first instinct was happiness and excitement. Bruce was home! Then, it would hit me full force, and I would remember… Bruce was not home; no one was home. The truck was still sitting there, because I hadn’t sold it yet.

However, months later after selling his truck, I learned that coming home still wasn’t any easier. In fact, even now there are days when I find myself wishing with all my heart that he would be there to greet me when I walk through the door. I no longer cry or breakdown, but I do secretly wish for all of this to be a dream… for him to be there waiting to greet me with a hug and a smile.

Flying together, however, was a different story. Those journeys were fantastic! We would always snuggle up. (Yes, we were that couple.) Sometimes, I would lay my head on his shoulder and snooze. Other times we would play games on his phone or share a set of headphones and listen to music together. For us, it didn’t matter what we did; what was important was the time spent together. It was our journey… together.

This last year, I found myself on another journey… Learning to manage the path of cancer was hard, and while I had some absolutely fantastic people by my side the whole way, traveling that path without Bruce by my side was the hardest part.

Thankfully, I am blessed to still live this space that was ours. This space where I can still feel Bruce’s presence all around me. Perhaps it sounds silly, but the comfort this space has brought me this past year felt a little like coming full circle on this journey.

I guess what I am saying is we have no control on where life takes us… Sure we make choices, but we don’t control the whole picture… We can’t foresee the bends and turns in the path ahead. In fact, the best we can do is to look for the blessings and be thankful for them, love the people around us and find comfort in the simple things life offers… And while I still trip up sometimes, that has become my goal… my way of moving forward through this journey.

I have learned a lot on this grief journey so far. At first, I was so angry, I was resistant to learning anything. What in the world did I need to learn alone that I couldn’t learn with Bruce by my side? However, in time I have come to learn that isn’t the point. It wasn’t about Bruce and I being together until the end of our lives. Instead, it was about us being together and loving each other until the end of his life. I know we will be together again one day, but my life isn’t over.

My journey of love with Bruce taught me so much… My journey of grief has also taught me a lot, and Bruce still gets credit for that. Why? Because when he died, he left a beautiful legacy in his wake.

I constantly find myself trying to learn more about who he was and what made him tick by experiencing all the things I took for granted while he was here. I love to read his “go-to” books, listen to his music and try doing the things he enjoyed. I love finding notes he scribbled in the margins of books, on cards or just scraps of paper tucked inside something.

The funny part is while I am doing all those things, in my quest to understand him, I usually end up learning so much more about myself. I have learned that there is still so much more out there for me. As long as I have breath, l have a purpose… Without a doubt, I know I still have so much to learn and so much more to give back wherever life should take me…

What about you? Where are you on your journey? Where has life taken you? What have you learned? 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

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… All the Feelings

Usually I write about where I am currently on this journey, but this week I want to reflect a little bit on where I was and how it felt. Why? Well, I know when I first started on this path, I felt so alone. The feelings and emotions were so overwhelming. And because I was the first person in both our families and amongst my close friends to lose a spouse, I didn’t really have anyone to turn to and ask if all these feelings were normal? (As if anything in my life would ever be “normal” again.)

Just a few months after Bruce died, I was struggling to find someone… anyone… who could understand… and wrote the following…

“I feel like I am going crazy. My emotions have been on hyper mode since this started. If I am sad, it is extreme. If I am happy, it is extreme. If I am angry, it is extreme. No matter the emotion, it is to the extreme. It seems like the only way to have any control at all is to shut them down completely. I hate it. Can anyone tell me if this is a normal part of grieving?”

Many people responded that while they hadn’t been there, they thought it was normal… A few told me to pray… Others said they were praying for me… Some told me to seek counseling, while others used words and phrases they had heard elsewhere were meant to bring comfort. In other words, they were all trying to be supportive, but no one really had an answer.

So, I set out to find some answers. I can remember reading books, blogs, articles – anything I could get my hands on that was written by other widows and widowers. In those, I learned what I was experiencing was very normal. I wasn’t alone, and I wasn’t going crazy.

I read about women who shaved their heads, packed a bag, and went on a cross-country hike in an attempt to outrun their grief. I read about men and women who fought suicidal thoughts, and others who immediately moved out of their homes just to get away from the memories. I read about many who lost their faith and others who dove in deeper.

So many people I read about struggled to control their emotions and talked about the outbursts… And others who tried to stuff all the pain deep down inside and shared that they couldn’t connect with anyone anymore… So many talked about looking at life going on around them, like an observer looking in, unable to even feel human anymore.

All of this probably sounds really dark, but it actually brought me comfort… It was a relief to know that I wasn’t crazy… All of my feelings were “normal” for someone grieving. My struggle to control my emotions, my struggle with my faith and being “left behind,” my struggle with relationships… All of it… It was such a comfort to know I wasn’t alone… and I wasn’t crazy.

I remember when I first started writing this blog, someone said told me that no one wanted to hear about my pain, how hard grief was, or how I felt. However, I thought it then, and I think it now – she was wrong… There will always be someone who needs to hear… I guess that’s why I am writing this today… Because if even one person reads this and can connect with the loss of stability that comes with grief, then I hope they will also find comfort in knowing that they aren’t alone.

You have many sisters and brothers who have gone before you and remember…

There is no judgement in what you are feeling… We remember. There is only empathy and compassion for where you are… And where you must still travel.

And while it may not seem possible, (at least, I didn’t think it was), if you are patient with yourself, the day will come (eventually), when you can manage this new “normal” that life has thrown your way. True, there will always be a hole… an emptiness in your heart and soul, but it won’t always control every thought and emotion… And until the time comes when you realize you are able to truly live your life again, know that we are here… We care… And we understand…

Death changes everything…

For a while that is all I can think about.

Time changes nothing…

On its own.

This is a journey

That will not end,

But I can learn how to direct my path.

If I do not pay attention to each individual step,

If I look too far ahead,

If I get tired and stop,

If I look backward too long,

I will become lost and scared.

I did not choose this journey.

I can’t even say that I like this journey.

But I would rather choose my path now,

Than try to find my way later

Because I gave up what little choice was mine

And became lost.

It is okay to stop and rest or cry when I am weary,

As long as I do not lose track of where I am.

It is okay to peer behind me to see where I was,

As long as I remember to look forward as I move.

It is even okay to look at what is ahead,

As long as I am doing so as preparation, but remain focused on where I am.

Death has changed everything,

And I must learn how to adjust.

Time changes nothing

On its own – that is my job now.

This is a journey – it is mine;

I must own it to survive it.

~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? Where are you on your journey? Do you remember that initial shock and all the overwhelming feelings of loss? Are you in that initial state of loss? Do you need someone to validate your feelings and give 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