grief – Page 28 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Stop! Just Stop…

Most mornings, once I get to work, I enjoy a nice, steamy cup of herbal tea. I get there before most people, so it is a quiet, peaceful way to start the workday. On the particular brand I drink, there are short quotes printed on the paper tabs. This week, one of those tabs read, “Love is an experience of infinity.” So much truth in such a simple statement, and it really hit home with me.

I think it is what I have hoped to help people understand with my writing… Love is not a switch to be turned on and off – It just is… It goes on and on no matter how much time passes…

When Bruce first died, my whole world stopped…

It was like we were cruising down the highway one moment, and suddenly stopped the next. We didn’t even get a chance to put on the brakes to slow down. It was more like hitting a brick wall – head on and at full speed… We went from 70 mph to 0 in an instant. If you can imagine the devastation that would result from such a crash, then maybe you can understand the grief that followed it.

When my world stopped, it took a few days to realize that the world outside had continued on as if nothing had happened… The birds sang. The ocean tides came and went. The sun rose and set. People went to work. People went jogging outside the window. They were laughing and playing and arguing… and living.

I struggled… How could they just keep on going as if nothing had happened? I wanted the world to stop… Just stop… Just for one minute! Just for a moment… Just honor and remember this man who had meant so much to me… This man whom I loved… This man who made up my world… I wanted to shout it out loud. I wanted to yell it from the mountain tops, “Stop! Please, just stop! Just give me a moment… Give him a moment… Just remember… Just for a moment.”

But I didn’t shout, and the world didn’t stop.

I tried to explain how I felt, and the people who cared listened… but they didn’t really get it. They tried… And they said all the “right things” which were supposed to help. I was told, “It will get better,” “Time will heal,” “You will move on in time,” and on and on the sayings went.

But those are just sayings… As time has passed, I must say that it really hasn’t gotten better; time has not healed anything… Not really… and move on from what? From loving him? From missing him? What is that even supposed to mean?

I didn’t and still don’t understand that thought process… Instead, I learned to take my grief to quiet place deep inside. I share it here with you, but that is about it… I don’t really talk about it very often and when I do, it is with a very select group of people.

The truth is my healing has been slow and not what I thought it would be… There is a part of me that will always be frozen in time… Observing life around me and deciding which parts I want to participate in and which I do not. I know how precious and fragile life is and how important it is not to waste a moment of it. This journey has left me feeling more courageous in my choices… And with a deep gratitude for each moment I get to spend with those I love.

The world will never stop for those we love… And we can never stop loving them… And each day the journey continues, and life becomes a little more real.

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

What about you? Did you experience that feeling of needing the world to stop? Do you ever feel like you are on the outside looking in? This journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. We are not alone. 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… Special Days, Special Memories

This week held a very special anniversary for Bruce and me… It was the anniversary of that first “I love you.” No, I’m not so crazy that I can remember every moment and every conversation. However, that particular conversation was one we both reminisced about quite often… And every time I think about it, I smile all over again.

We had just met about six weeks earlier on a cruise through the Virgin Islands. Our connection had been almost instantaneous. By the end of the week, even the crew and other passengers on board had noticed. I must admit, when Bruce mentioned continuing the relationship after the cruise, I was not only hesitant… I literally ran away and hid in my cabin until time to disembark the next morning. The idea of getting into a serious relationship again terrified me!

I remember crying all the way home, thinking I was probably running away from the best thing that had ever walked into my life. Bruce later told me, he was frustrated with himself for scaring me, and afterwards, all he could think about was how wonderful the week had been and how much he would treasure those memories.

Once I was home, it didn’t take more than a day or so for me to reach out to him via email and ask if we could slow it down… Could we just get to know each other? Then, see where things went from there? I explained that after 23+ years in an abusive marriage, I just didn’t know if I even wanted to think about loving someone again… I just wanted to experience life a little bit and figure out exactly what I wanted next.

He was wonderful… He told me that was fine. He made me feel like he not only understood but agreed that I should take my time. We spent the next several weeks talking on the phone and emailing each other. By February, we both decided we wanted to see if there really was something there or if it had merely been a shipboard romance. (I guess “time” wasn’t really what I needed… I just needed to feel like it was my option if I wanted it.)

So, for Presidents’ Day weekend, I flew to Michigan…

I remember being so scared! What if I got there, and he wasn’t who he said he was or who I thought he was? What if things got weird? What if it was a bust?… But… Then again… What if it were wonderful?

I will always remember walking down the corridor at the airport, and there was Bruce, leaning against the wall, watching the disembarking passengers walk toward him. As soon as he spotted me, his eyes lit up, and he smiled like a Cheshire cat.

The weekend was absolutely wonderful… a fairy tale come true. Our first “land” date was a weekend filled with exploring western Michigan… Which is beautiful, by the way! There were so many “firsts” for me. Later he told me that my excitement and wonder was contagious and had allowed him to see his own home state with fresh eyes.

I saw Lake Michigan filled with icebergs and surrounded by snowy beaches, (something I had never even imagined). We went to an ice carving competition, followed by a cozy pub where we could warm up and enjoy some spiced cider. One night we went out with his sisters (whom I loved instantly) and another night he cooked for me – fish he had caught and peas he had grown. For me, this man seemed so perfect, and I couldn’t believe how blessed I was.

On Saturday night, after a day of fun and laughter, Bruce and I were snuggled up on the couch just relaxing. Quietly, he looked straight into my eyes, touched my cheek gently and said, “I don’t want to scare you off,… But I really think I am falling in love you.”

“I’m not scared,” I answered. “I’m falling in love with you, too.”

And as they say… The rest is history…

Our years together were wonderful. Both of us knew what we wanted in our relationship and worked to keep it. It wasn’t always easy, but we talked about that too. Losing him has been the hardest thing I have ever had to learn to live with. Yet, I am so grateful to be able to say I have no regrets when it comes to “us” and our time together. I know we both appreciated each moment we shared.

I know that physically, Bruce is gone… That is my reality… But in my heart, I can still hear him say, “I love you,” … and I know he is still with me…

In each breeze, let me feel your touch.
In each sunrise, let me experience your joy.
In each storm, let me feel your strength.
In the quiet, let me hear your voice telling me –
All is well…
Each moment was planned.
Each smile was for me.
And your acceptance of life was a gift
To help me through this storm.
I loved you…
And even now,
You love me.
~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? Do you have a special memory that brings you comfort? This journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. We are not alone. 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… Not Just Another Day

I really miss him this week…

It’s weird… Some weeks are just harder than others… Like this week. There’s no reason, really. I can’t even blame it on Valentine’s Day. To be honest, I totally forgot about Valentine’s Day until about 4:30 pm on the 13th. Which resulted in my grandson and I (and all the other last-minute people) hunting for just the right cards and candy from what was left on the shelf. (Which was just another ridiculously funny story in itself.) It was all fine though… We both seemed to find exactly what we wanted quite quickly and the evening continued.

This is where it gets strange (at least, for me). In the past, I would spend the days before every holiday dreading it… Not just dreading the pain I knew I would feel, but also wishing the day would pass by quickly, or even better, just go away.

Even last year, I spent several days leading up to any holiday anxious and grieving and absolutely dreading what I “knew” was coming. But then the day would come (and go), and it was never as bad as I thought it was going to be. The energy wasted would leave me emotionally drained for days… and for WHAT??

Without fail, someone always remembers me and makes me feel special.

Then there is this year… As I have written over the last few weeks, I have been learning to do the whole “let it go and be at peace” thing. So, this holiday was my first inclination that it is working and just how different my life has become. I have been learning to live each moment as they come – not being anxious about something ten steps ahead that I can’t avoid anyway.

So, when I finally did remember about Valentine’s Day, my thoughts went to helping my grandson celebrate the day and send love to the special people in his life… And by doing so, I got caught up in the thrill of doing the same.

When I woke up on Valentine’s Day, it was fine… I was fine… I knew I was okay. Sure, there were a few tears… Not because I was worried about being forgotten… It was simply a matter of missing him. (And those are tears I have learned to control.) So, I let myself cry in the shower just a little bit before I moved on with my day.

I get to work fairly early. Yet when I walked in, the office was already filled with balloons and flowers waiting on the desks of most of my co-workers… It made me smile… Knowing what it feels like to love and be loved, I can’t help myself when I see those same feelings being expressed by others.

But the biggest surprise was on my own desk… an “I love you” balloon and a beautiful bouquet of flowers… And the tears came… I hadn’t even realized they were waiting, but I guess they were. To be remembered… To be reminded you are loved (even when you already know it in your heart) is a precious thing!

It is something Bruce did a lot! And I don’t believe I ever took it for granted. I had spent too many years in a marriage where love didn’t exist. So, when I met Bruce… And when we fell in love, it was incredibly precious to me… And still is. I think that is why, six plus years later, he is still on my mind and in my heart… especially this week.

My heart is still his… Happy Valentine’s Day, Babe! I love you… always and forever!

I felt you today.
I felt the warmth of your smile,
And it made me laugh…
Thank you!
~ Linda, January 2018

What about you? We all know the holidays can magnify our grief and our loss is front and center again in our lives. How do you handle that? Do you struggle to keep peace in your heart? Do you accept it and just let the tears fall? This journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. We are not alone. 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… Will We Ever Understand?

When Bruce and I first met, one of the things we had in common was being health conscious. I was a runner. He was into body building. And we were both all about eating healthy. Admittedly, he was better about the eating part than I was… (I love sweets and Publix fried chicken.) However, he wasn’t a big fan of desserts or fried foods. He didn’t drink sodas and rarely had caffeine. (I was a Diet Mt Dew junkie.) Don’t get me wrong, he had his vices like the rest of us, but most of the time, he ate right and was constantly looking for ways to improve.

Early on in our relationship, I learned that he had high blood pressure (and, evidently, had for years). But it didn’t seem to slow him down, and I knew lots of people with HBP. Because of his job, he was required to have a physical every year by the company. Plus, he would have a second one by his own physician, putting him in front of a doctor every six months. To all of us, he appeared to be in great health… And very determined to stay that way.

Because of all that, his death came as quite a shock to all of us!

As for me, I was completely dumbfounded! How in the world does someone so healthy go to bed laughing and just never wake up again? I couldn’t understand it. I remember the ER doctor telling me it appeared that Bruce had suffered a heart attack, but the Medical Examiner would need to do an autopsy to confirm the cause of death.

In my naïve bubble of grief, I thought that would take just a few days… Boy, was I wrong.

I remember lamenting on FB after a month or so that we still had no answer. Some people understood the frustration and were quite encouraging with stories of their own. Then, there were others who sent me private messages telling me to “let it go” … “What difference did it make why he died, the outcome was going to remain the same.”

But, for me, it did matter! I needed to know why… It made no sense. Surely, there would be some hidden reason for his death… Surely, there would be an answer to all my questions.

Four months (and several phone calls later), just days before what would have been his birthday, I received a call from the medical examiner. He explained that Bruce’s heart had been enlarged – “almost twice the size it should have been.” He went on to explain how Bruce’s high blood pressure had contributed to that and how when his heart gave out and stopped that night there was nothing I could have done to save him.

We talked about how I had done CPR, and how in my own eyes, I had failed Bruce. He told me the only way Bruce could have survived would have been to have a heart transplant before his heart stopped. “Once it stopped,” he told me, “it was not going to restart. Nothing could have saved Bruce at that point.”

It was nice to have an answer, but I still found myself with more and more questions. I remember finding paperwork for some heart tests Bruce’s doctor had ordered (and Bruce had never done), but I didn’t really know what else there was to learn. My sister (a nurse) looked at the medications and supplements he was taking at the time, but there was nothing abnormal about those either.

Bruce’s Mom suggested I talk to Bruce’s doctor and see what he would tell me. I was hesitant at first. Bruce was always big on his privacy. He shared what he wanted to share and no more. He did share some things about his doctors’ visits with me, but if I pushed too much for details, he would just get quiet… But he was dead now… Was it really okay for me to ask? It felt like I was prying, but I really wanted to know if his doctor could tell me anything more.

It took me a while, but I finally managed to get the courage to call. The conversation was actually pretty short. Even though he was affiliated with the hospital where Bruce was taken, he had not been notified of Bruce’s death. By this time, it had been well over a year since he had seen Bruce, and he said he didn’t really remember too much about their last visit.

That was it?? … Yep, that was it…

Jump to the more recent past… Bruce’s Mom sent me a note asking if I had a copy of the autopsy report. I didn’t. Then, she asked if I would mind if she requested one. I didn’t mind at all… In fact, I asked her if she would mind sharing it with me when she received it. (I must tell you – she is a doll! She has always been so respectful to me as Bruce’s wife that she even confirmed my approval one more time, before she actually hit “Submit” for her request.)

I don’t know what I expected… I guess I just assumed we would have the same slow response as we did with the initial autopsy answers. I was wrong. The document came back the next day…

That was Thursday. Thankfully, I was home that day, because as I read through the document, the tears began to fall…

While it had a lot of detail in it, I can’t say there was a lot of new information. Except this…

I had to look up a lot of medical terms. As I looked those up, the medical examiner’s initial information made more sense. In fact, as I did more and more research, I learned a lot. I started to realize, we (maybe just me) had missed a lot of the signs that something was wrong.

I’ve always said, I thought Bruce knew something… After doing some research, I am even more convinced he knew something wasn’t right. I won’t say he knew what it was, but I definitely believe he knew something was wrong and his time was limited.

I don’t know how I feel about this report… I guess I had hoped it might bring a little more closure. But instead, I have found myself re-living a lot of those initial questions and feelings. Admittedly, it’s been hard to have all that brought back to the forefront of my mind again. Yet, at the same time, there is some relief to have a better understanding of what happened.

I don’t really know… I’m still trying to process what I know now and deal with this renewed sense of grief… It may be a hard few days ahead… I’m just praying for the strength to see it through and for some sense of peace…

What about you? We all know there will be times when our loved one’s death is front and center again in our lives. How do you handle that? Do you struggle to keep peace in your heart? Do you accept it and just let the tears fall? This journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. We are not alone. 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… That Peace Thing…

“While you are proclaiming peace with your lips, be careful to have it even more fully in your heart.” ~ St. Francis of Assisi

Peace… One syllable, and yet one of those things most of us strive to accomplish… Shoot, even the nations of our world struggle with this one… And so, do I…

Bruce always made it look so simple. He always seemed to be at peace with whatever was going on… Well, maybe not always. There were a few times I can remember when life seemed to catch up to him, as well. However no matter what, he always managed to quickly draw that peaceful demeanor back… A skill and attitude I still greatly admire.

In December, I decided to make that my goal – to maintain peace in my life – my attitudes and my demeanor. To help, I have a book that I am working my way through, and it has really helped… until the past couple of weeks. Why? Because I dropped the ball.

Things were going so well, until I got lazy… I stopped making this a daily goal. And now I must confess – as life has happened over the past couple of weeks, I have not been so good about maintaining peace in my heart.

While I was working through the book, I learned to let things go, especially those things that aren’t “mine” in the first place. I had stopped taking things people said personally. I even managed to apply this “peace thing” to my grief. I know it is how I not only made it through the holidays, I was actually happy… In fact, I can even say I enjoyed the season.

But the last few weeks, as I have focused less and less on maintaining that peace I so greatly admired in Bruce, I have found myself slipping back into old habits… And I don’t like it.

“Peace does not dwell in outward things, but in the heart prepared to wait trustfully and quietly on Him who has all things safely in his hands.” ~ Elisabeth Elliot

At first, it was little things – things people said (or didn’t say) … things they did (or didn’t do). (Are you seeing a pattern here?) I was getting really good at blaming others for my attitude and feeling sorry for myself – something I haven’t done in a very long time. But there I was thinking about everyone else’s behavior and expecting them to change. It was very similar to when Bruce first died. I was so caught up in my own sadness and grief that I couldn’t see past it. It was a self-pitying, all-about-me attitude.

But that is no way to go through life, and it all seemed to come to a head this weekend.

On Friday, someone at work made an unkind comment which I normally would have ignored. I know hurting people hurt people. I know that just because someone says something about me doesn’t make it true. I know it says more about them, than it does about me. But I wouldn’t let it go. I held onto it all day… Then, I posted about it on Facebook (because that’s such a great idea – please note the sarcasm). My friends were very kind, but seriously – what a pity party! On Saturday, I deleted that post immediately – I was so frustrated that I had allowed myself to go down that road.

I wish I could say that was it… I wish I had immediately realized the path I was on versus the path I want to be on, but I didn’t. That didn’t happen until today…

As I sat in church this morning and listened to the pastor talk about “peacemakers,” I began to realize what has been missing in my life over the last few weeks – It was “that peace thing.” It was remembering that…

“We are the bearers of peace by staying peaceful ourselves.” ~ Unknown

This afternoon, I have pulled my book back out from under the stack of books by my bed. I have been reading through the things I had written and underlined. I could be upset with myself… But, then again, that wouldn’t be very peaceful, would it? Instead, I know I need to take a deep breath, let go of what I can’t change, and change the one thing I can – me… and my attitude.

Years ago, grief created a perfect storm in which I became very comfortable at feeling sorry for myself. And while that grew tiresome (even for me), habits can be hard to change – although not impossible. However, it definitely takes consistent focus on the right things.

I am so blessed to have people around me who love me enough and feel comfortable enough to tell me when I am straying in the wrong direction. I am also blessed to have lived side by side with someone who lived a life filled with peace. Bruce may be gone, but his legacy is not… His influence is real, and it is huge…

And with the memory of our love in my heart, I know I can do this… I can pick up where I left off and fill my life with “that peace thing” once again.

“There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered.” ~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? Do you ever struggle to keep peace in your heart? Have you ever found yourself on that path of self-pity and had to work at letting it go? Is that something you still struggle with? It can be hard to admit, but it is even harder to bear alone. We are part of a club, we never wanted to join. Yet, here we are… Let’s reach out to one another and share our stories. Would you be willing to 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… Life Doesn’t End Here

“Life doesn’t end here”… It took me years to see this as a promise…

When Bruce died, a huge part of me died with him. In fact, it felt like most of me died that night right there beside him… And there was an even bigger part of me that wished I had. I didn’t think I could go on without him… And I didn’t want to. Everything felt black… I was lost… I can remember just sitting in the middle of the floor in our home and sobbing. That space felt so huge and empty without him.

Like a child wandering in a dark house… lost.
I go from room to room
Searching for you.
You are not here.
I am alone.
I sit in the corner –
Lost… afraid… crying…
Where are you?
Where is the light?
Will I always be here alone and scared?
~ Linda, January 2014

As that first year passed into another, life went on… Life didn’t end there, but it wasn’t a life of hope. It was simply a life of survival… It was about putting one foot in front of the other… Each day looked like the one before it… My kids were all grown with lives of their own. I knew they loved me, but I certainly didn’t think I was needed. I just existed…

And so it was for a very long time…

I remember telling one of my daughters that each day that passed simply represented another day closer to being with Bruce again. I even remember confiding to some of my closest friends that if I got really sick (like cancer), I wouldn’t fight it. My poor family – I was a mess!

I remember people telling me that I “needed to live” … That my life wasn’t over… I kept reading the verse from Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.” But I wasn’t comforted. I was struggling… I would pray for God to let me join Bruce, but my sobbing prayers were met with silence. God wasn’t even listening, (or so I thought),… but I thought wrong.

Slowly things began to change.

I began to realize that even though my kids were adults with lives of their own, they actually did still need me. I am the only parent in their lives, and that can be a pretty important space even with adult children. Then, there is my grandson. When he and my daughter moved in with me, it was as if someone turned the lights back on… That huge space was filled once again with love and laughter and fun and chaos and incredible moments… In other words – life… Our home was once again filled with life.

Then, 2018 happened… When I first found the lump, I ignored it. Not because I wanted to die, I just didn’t want to believe it was anything serious. For months, I convinced myself it was nothing… And I said nothing – not a word to anyone. After waiting eight months, I finally saw a doctor who gave me the diagnosis I didn’t want to hear – cancer.

It’s weird… years before I thought that was what I wanted – not cancer, but a way out… A way to Bruce. While that may sound a bit dramatic, I have read enough books on grief to know it is a normal part of grieving. (As if there is anything normal about grief!)

But by 2018, that was no longer what I wanted… Over the past few years, I have learned to love life again. Yes, I still have times of grief, but never to the extent that it had been in the beginning. So, what did I do? I did what most of us would do… I chose to fight… I chose to live!

I came across a quote from Andre Escobar – “Life doesn’t end here.” Just a few short years ago, I thought my life had ended… I was done. But not anymore… Over the years, I did find that comfort I read about in Matthew. I found it in the arms of my friends and family. Now… “life doesn’t end here” became my mantra…

My last treatment was on November 2, and while I haven’t heard the words “cured” or “remission” yet, (it’s too soon), as far as I’m concerned, I have won! My hair is growing back. I am working out. I’m back at the office. I am doing all the things I love to do, and I feel fabulous!

I am living life again… and I am loving it!

I still miss Bruce. I’d be lying to say otherwise. However, my faith tells me I will see him again, and I hang onto that truth. I also know he wouldn’t want me to shut down and stop living. Our short time together taught me that life is too precious for that.

So, as long as I have breath within me, I will keep on loving and living, because…

Life doesn’t end here…

“So I’m going to do my best in this life so that I’m sure to see her in the next one. I’m going to work hard, tell the truth, and be of some use to the people who care about me. I’m going to try anyway.” – Adriana Trigiani, The Shoemaker’s Wife

What about you? When your loved on died, did it take time to want to live and learn to love life again? Is that something you still struggle with? It can be hard to admit, but it is even harder to bear alone. We are part of a club, we never wanted to join. Yet, here we are… Let’s reach out to one another and share our stories. Would you be willing to 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… Trying to Build a Better Boat

This year is different.
I can’t explain it.
My heart is still shattered.
The tears are still falling.
But this year,
I just want to remember…
I want to look at photographs
And gaze deep in your eyes.
I want to remember
The laughter
And the gentle moments when you held me
And whispered, “I love you.”
I want to close my eyes
And go back to that first hello…
That first kiss.
This year there seems no need for ceremonies…
Just time alone…
With you…
~ Linda, January 2019

Well, I did it… I survived this week… one of the hardest weeks on the calendar for me. This week held the anniversary of Bruce’s death. Only one moment in time, but a moment that changed my life forever.

The first year, I wasn’t sure what to do. My sister had the foresight to know I shouldn’t be alone, and lovingly came and spent the weekend with me. We didn’t really do anything formal – a trip to the beach and a crab dinner (one of Bruce’s favorites).

The following year, I knew I wanted… no, needed… to do something different… something more. We made Tibetan prayer flags for the garden, as well as baskets filled with flowers, incense and charms to represent special things about Bruce to place in the ocean. I even wrote a letter to Bruce to place in the basket. Two of my daughters were able to come join me, and we headed to the ocean for a special ceremony of sorts. Plus, toasts at all his favorite fishing spots and meals at all his favorite restaurants. And to finish the night – a little Jimmy Buffet to sooth the soul.

This tradition I kept up for several years. Then last year, I decided to change it up just a little… First, the prayer flags were in such good condition, there was no need to make new ones. I also decided I wanted to travel… Traveling was how we met and what we loved to do, so I decided to make that a new part of the tradition. So, off I went to another beach south of here. It was a lovely weekend. I still brought flowers and beer to the beach. I still wrote him a letter. I still ate at places I believed he would have loved, and I still finished the night dancing to Jimmy Buffet.

This year, though, things are very different. Perhaps it’s a result of spending the last year fighting to survive, but as I wrote a couple of weeks ago, I have felt very different in my grief these past few months. I don’t really know how to explain it… I still miss him. However, so much of the time before the cancer diagnosis, I just felt like I was going through the motions of life. Whereas now, I actually feel enthusiastic about living my life.

In fact, have you heard Kenny Chesney’s new song, Better Boat? I love it! In fact, I relate to it so much, it has become my mantra song over the last few months… It just seems to truly describe where I find myself emotionally…

… My how the last few months have changed

I’m smilin’ more despite the pain…
I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
If it’s working I don’t know
When I get done the thing may not float
But I’m learning how to build a better boat
~ Songwriters: Travis Meadows, Liz Rose

So that’s me lately… Just constantly trying to “build a better boat.” In fact, that’s where I found myself this week… I knew I would be sad, and I knew there would be tears, but I also knew I needed something different… Something more quiet and less formal. I also knew I knew I wanted to be in “our” home this year… No traveling – I’ve spent enough time away from my family and traveling for treatments this last year. So, when I woke up that morning, I still had no idea… I was going to play it by ear… And here’s how it played out…

My journal:
January 2019 – noon
“Hi Babe!
Well, maybe I should be but I’m not so mad today… Sad – yes… Missing you – definitely… Wishing you were here and knowing you would love this time together today – you bet!

I didn’t (couldn’t) go to our beach today. It’s still closed due to the government shutdown. All week I’ve been hoping it would open, but no… Anyway, I drove up to Daytona instead. The beach ramp for cars is closed (high tide), but that’s okay. It’s kinda cold anyway, so I’m sitting inside the pier restaurant (Crabby Joe’s). You used to love this place! I’m at one of the high-tops overlooking the water, which is beautiful today. I can even feel the waves rocking the pier. And if I close my eyes, I would swear I can feel you right beside me… Because that is where you always sat… Never across from me – always beside me with one hand on my leg or holding my hand… I miss that….

You would love this today! I know you would be all about this place and simply spending time together.

It’s weird – maybe good – but this year is so different. In the past, I had (no – needed) a “ceremony” for today… But this year, that didn’t feel right. It was right at the time, but this year, I just wanted to enjoy the day and remember you… remember us.

The memories are flooding in. I can feel the tears in my eyes and a few have fallen, but mostly the memories make me smile. I love remembering… I love giving my “permission” – perhaps selfishly – to simply spend today focusing on you and us…

5 pm
As I sit here, all I can think about is how blessed I have been. Yes – there have been hard times… even some really sucky times… But through it all, I have survived… I have come out on top knowing I have experienced great love… your love…

9 pm
I have thought about you so much today… So many memories… So much love. I’ll never understand why… I’ll never know what life would be like if we could have lived out our dreams together… I just know my heart is still shattered… I love you. I will always love you… And I have been blessed to have known a love like ours…”

I ain’t lonely, but I spend a lot of time alone
More than I’d like to, but I’m okay with staying home
My how the last few months have changed
I’m smilin’ more despite the pain

I hate waiting, ain’t no patience in these hands
I’m not complaining, sometimes it’s hard to change a man
I think I’m stronger than I was,
I let God do what he does

I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
If it’s working I don’t know
When I get done the thing may not float
But I’m learning how to build a better boat
~ Songwriters: Travis Meadows, Liz Rose

What about you? How do honor your loved one’s memory? Does it change year to year? Or are there certain traditions you incorporate each year? What do you do to remember? Would you be willing to 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… My Biggest Fear

This week marks the anniversary of mine and Bruce’s last week together… And to make it even more real, the dates line up to the day of the week exactly as they did that same week six years ago. When I woke up this morning, I found myself trying to remember every moment of that week. It was such precious time, and we had no idea what lay just a few short days away.

The trouble is the distance between that week and this one… and my own memory…

When Bruce died, and this journey began, I was terrified. There were so much hurt and so many unknowns. How in the world was I supposed to learn to navigate this path on my own?… Well, time has passed, and thankfully, with each passing day, I learn a little bit more.

But there is one fear, I can’t seem to shake. In fact, as time goes on, it seems to be my biggest fear… It is the fear of forgetting.

From the moment he died, I swore that as long as I had breath in my lungs, his memory would stay alive. I refused to forget him, or to let the world forget he had been here, too. Perhaps that is a part of my reasoning for writing this blog… I know it is why I keep a journal.

It is the reason we write down our Christmas memories with Bruce and slip them into his stocking, (which I still hang next my own). And why his pictures still grace the shelves throughout our home. It is why I still wear his jacket on chilly nights and smile whenever I see his favorite beer on a menu or a store shelf.

These last few months, I have even begun to recognize some of my own healing as I find myself looking at pictures and (rather than crying), I can beam with delight at the memories involved. These things (and many more) are what I choose to do to keep Bruce’s memory and legacy alive… It is my way of expressing the love I still feel for him.

But…

There have also been some changes over the last few months which is fueling my biggest fear… The fear of forgetting… And the cancer treatments of this past year don’t help this situation at all. (Allow me to confirm that “chemo-brain” is a very real and very frustrating thing.)

So how does that play out?

Well, I struggle to remember what his voice sounded like. I have two videos of Bruce – one is silent and in the other, he only says one word, … “almost” and he laughs. I find myself watching it over and over just to hear that one word… just to hear the joy in his laughter and see the smile on his face.

I struggle to remember what his arms felt like and how it felt to lay in them… To remember the comfort and security I always found there. While I have gotten stronger and more self-reliant this year, deep down I miss the strength I found in those arms, and I am frustrated as I struggle to recall how that felt.

I also struggle to remember what it felt like to hold his hand… His hands were so much bigger than my own. I can remember we rarely interlaced our fingers because it would hurt my hands. Instead, he would hold my hands like a child’s and ever so gently rub the back of my hand with his thumb.

I want to remember the exact color of his eyes and the way they wrinkled when he smiled… Or to remember the things that made him smile… I want to remember how his eyes twinkled when he was up to no good and how it sounded when he said, “I love you.”

I want to remember all of it… But between the cancer treatments and growing older, that seems to be getting harder and harder. I am terrified I am forgetting… And that makes me even more sad.

Normally in the past, I would spend a lot of time this week at “our” beach where his ashes were spread off shore. I would sit there for hours… remembering… writing… and just talking to him. But this year, due to this government shut-down, that is not an option. Our beach is closed, and I can’t even get close to that space which is so precious to me.

I’m not sure how I will spend this week, or how to overcome this fear… All I know is this is my biggest fear, and it seems to be coming true…

But one thing I will always remember – I love him… And I will always love him…

“’I miss him every single day,’ I said… ‘It’s gotten to the point where I can’t hear his voice anymore and I’m so afraid I won’t remember what he sounded like when he’d say, ‘I love you.’ And I don’t ever want to forget.’” ~ Donna VanLiere, The Christmas Hope

What about you? What is your biggest fear? Do you ever struggle with forgetting? Am I alone on this one? Would you like to share your thoughts or ideas on how you deal with your fears? Or what you do to remember? Would you be willing to 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

New Year’s Eve; Old Year’s Night 2018

All of my New Year’s Eve posts seem to hold this title (change the year)… Or, at least on my saved drive, they do. Which seems only right, since the first time I heard that phrase was the year (and cruise) when I met Bruce. The start of something new and the end of something old… It’s all the same – it just depends on how you look at it.

In the past, this was just a night like any other… Not anything to celebrate… Not anything to even think about. I had too many kids and life was too chaotic to make big deal of something so simple as the calendar changing… But then I met Bruce.

After that, this day came to hold so many expectations… so many dreams… so many promises…

That first year was the year we met… We danced the night away. I remember someone on the cruise making a comment about the two of us, and that was all it took for him to broach the subject. He was so vulnerable and honest when he said, “There’s something here, and I don’t want to lose it.”

Then, the next year, we were on that same cruise and our honeymoon. The new year (and our future) held so many promises. I couldn’t believe what a fantastic turn my life had taken and how absolutely blessed I felt.

The next few years, Bruce and fell into a quiet rhythm. Neither of us were big on parties or staying up late. We were both content to toast the new year early and head to bed to snuggle (and sleep) as the new year rolled in.

The last Old Year’s Night together, we went to our first (in many years) New Year’s Eve party together. Bruce had worked late, and I assumed we weren’t going to go after all. However, he was determined we were going. He wanted the night to be special and it was. In fact, it was a magical night! We danced and laughed into the wee hours of the morning. I have the most wonderful memories of him holding me as we danced, looking into my eyes, smiling and telling me he wished the night could go on forever… Me too! (But instead, twelve days weeks later, I would lose him forever…)

The next few years were a struggle… How could life go on? How was I supposed to celebrate another year (without Bruce)?

There was one year when an old BF from my (much younger) past popped in for the night with a dance and a lie… Attempting to manipulate a woman in grief while actually only proving what Bruce had always told me – Trust isn’t something to be given out lightly.

The following years, though, have not been so tumultuous. For the past few years, I have decided on a mantra for the upcoming year versus any resolutions. Then, I have lived by that mantra until it became a natural part of my life.

Last New Year’s Eve was little different. I found myself surrounded by people I love at a three day family wedding. It was a grand time! But not everyone was feeling it… I remember someone saying to me, “This is going to be a terrible year… I can feel it.” My response? Well, I think it pissed them off at the time, but I said, “Life is what you make of it… How you experience it is up to you.” … Oh Karma!

You see, at this time, I already knew there was a lump in my breast, which left me feeling completely unsure of what lay ahead. I wasn’t sure if I would even see another New Year’s Eve. I wasn’t sure what lay ahead, but more than anything, I knew I didn’t want to just lay down and die. So, for the first time in years, I didn’t adapt a mantra for 2018. Instead, I made the decision to do one new “good-for-me” thing each month. January was “get more rest.” February – meditate; March – eat right… and my final “good-for-me” thing was in April, which was “fight like a girl!” …

And I did…

Which brought me straight into the holidays and leads me to today… So, what do I do now? How do I want to approach 2019? Resolutions? Mantra? Nothing at all?

Well, here it is (or isn’t) …

Bruce was a big proponent of “live life as it happens” … “Flow with the current and don’t try to move the rocks in your path” … I’ve written about that a lot! I’ve constantly tried to make that my mantra too, but without a lot of success… until now.

Since all the treatments ended and life has settled back into its “normal” groove, I have actually found myself doing just that without even working at it. Maybe it is the experience of coming so close to death without actually crossing that threshold, but my perspective on life and what really matters is so different now.

Maybe that was where Bruce was coming from too… After all, I have said many times that I believe he knew his time was coming up short. Perhaps that was where he got his own ability to live life as it came… And in his knowledge of the short time he had left, he wanted to pass that wisdom on to the rest of us.

For years I tried, but I couldn’t quite figure it out. Now, however, I get it.

After this year, I have a whole new perspective on what matters… Now, this isn’t something I have to work at… It just feels natural, because I get it…

And that is what I want to hold onto… That is what I want to bring into the new year… The understanding that life is what it is… I can go with it or fight it… But learning to “go with it” feels a whole lot better…

Thank you, Babe, for leaving a legacy I have learned grasp… Once again, I am reminded how blessed I am to have shared a life with you!

What about you? How do you prepare for the New Year? Do you find yourself setting resolutions or committing to mantras? How do you end an Old Night or begin a New Year when grief and loss are a part of your world? Would you like to share your thoughts or ideas on how to face the New Year? If you are on the healing side of grief, what have you done to move forward?

Would you be willing to 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… Merry Christmas

“The word which God has written on the brow of every man is Hope.” – Victor Hugo

I think that has been the piece of Christmas I have “re-discovered” this year… the feeling of hope. Each year… Each Christmas, I seem to adjust a little bit more. The first year I ran away to the Keys and ignored Christmas completely. The next year, I found myself singing along with the carols on the radio (still the only singing this former music teacher does since Bruce’s death). Then each year following, I have celebrated a little bit more year by year. But even last year, I wrote about smiling on the outside and trying to enjoy all that is “Christmas,” while crying on the inside for all I am missing.

I couldn’t seem to figure out how to move forward any further…

But this year… Well, this year I have loved the Christmas season. I have felt it from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. I have decorated, shopped with abandon, watched parades, played (and sang) Christmas music relentlessly, and gone for nightly drives to look at Christmas lights. I have smiled on the outside and on the inside. In other words, this year I have truly felt like celebrating… something I haven’t wanted or felt like doing for years.

In fact, last week, my daughter told me she had noticed. And not only had she noticed, but the change in my attitude had also meant the best of seasons for her and my grandson, as well. So, what made the difference this year?

Well, I believe it is hope. For the first time in years, I feel like there is hope… real, genuine hope in my life.

When Bruce died, I felt lost… abandoned… completely hopeless. I didn’t really care what the next day held, because no matter what a day might hold, it would be without Bruce. As time passed, I learned to appreciate life – at least, the brevity of life. I get frustrated with people who can’t understand how absolutely precious our time together is. We are never promised the next breath, and yet most of us take it completely for granted, even in the relationships of those who love us the most.

But that realization isn’t enough, or at least it wasn’t for me. That realization just made me miss Bruce even more. So why the change this year? Why now?

Well, maybe I’m wrong, but I believe it was my journey to survive this year. I think it was my realization this year that life is meant to be lived and appreciated – each moment of each day. There are things that bother us, but in all honesty, they don’t upset me or hurt my feelings the same way they used to… It’s just not worth it. Things happen… people say and do what they do and sometimes it is hurtful. We all do, (and usually don’t even realize it).

But here’s the thing – I am the only one responsible for how I choose to spend each moment… no one else. So, I can either make it a moment worth remembering or make it one I’d rather forget.

I guess, after fighting so hard to even be here, I’d rather have lots of moments worth remembering.

So, if you are reading this, and you are new to loss, or still trying to figure out how to move forward without your loved one, please know that you are in my prayers. And my prayer for you is that you can find that hope again… The hope that life is worth our time and our curiosity. The hope that each day will hold something so precious in store that we wouldn’t want to miss it.

So, on this Eve of Christmas eve, I pray that you will have a Christmas season filled with joy and laughter… and especially hope. Because those are the things that make life all it is meant to be.

“…each day of the journey is precious, yours and mine – we must strive to make it a masterpiece. Each day, once gone, is gone forever.” – John Wooden

What about you? Does any of this strike a chord with you? How does this season effect you? Are you able to celebrate? Or are you still struggling just to hang on and get to the other side of this season? Maybe you have found a different way to cope… There is no one right answer. Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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