widow – Page 29 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… My Grove

Most of us have heard of the infamous redwood trees of northern California. They are some of the tallest trees in the world. These trees can reach heights of over 350 feet tall. This last week, however, I learned something new (to me) about these amazing trees. While their height is incredible, their root system is actually quite shallow. There is no tap root. In fact, their root system is only six – twelve feet deep, with a typical root only about one inch in diameter.

So, considering their size and lifespan, (these trees can live up to 2000 years), how on earth, (no pun intended), do they manage to stay upright? That seems impossible to me.

But here’s the trick… The root system on these trees spreads outward about 50 – 80 feet, and these trees grow in groves. In other words, their roots end up intermingling with each other, and they literally hold each other up! How amazing! And what a lesson for me!

There have been so many times in my life when things got tough, and I tried to go it alone only to find I couldn’t… I need the support of those around me… Those who love and care for me…In other words, I need my grove to hold me up, too.

When Bruce died, if not for the support of the people around me, I don’t know if I would have found my way out of the depression that accompanied my grief. The crazy thing is not only were they there for me, but I was there for them. What?

Yes… There were many times when I couldn’t figure out why I was still here without Bruce, when someone I love would call or come by because they needed me. Maybe all they needed was a listening hear or a hug, or maybe they actually needed a hand with something… It didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that I was needed… There was a reason I am still here, and that was important… It helped me as much (if not more) than it helped them.

This latest turn in my path has found me dependent on the people around me once again. Only this time, it has been mostly physical dependence. There are so many things I just can’t do right now due to the restrictions that go along with my treatments. But that’s really not all… This crazy cancer thing has taken a toll on me emotionally, as well.

In fact, this morning I found myself in tears… This Tuesday will be round three of chemo. While it hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be, each round leaves me feeling like I have the flu, plus all the other side effects which seem to switch and change with each dose.

I was trying to explain my dread to someone this week… I’ve had the flu, but only twice in my adult life that I can remember. I remember it was terrible. But since there was a lot of time between bouts, I didn’t remember exactly what it was like when I got sick the second time. Plus, I didn’t know it was coming. But this… I know this is coming, and the memory is fresh… I am barely recovering from one dose when it is time for the next.

To be honest, I am already tired… Just thinking of doing this again (and again…) makes me cry. It probably sounds terrible, but I’m just over it… I don’t want to do this again. I am at a point where I just want to quit… And that is where my tears came from this morning.

I found myself thinking if Bruce were here, he would have a way of making me feel like we could do this… I know him… He would make me feel like he was carrying a part of this burden, as well. Then, I started thinking about why I agreed to do all this crazy treatment in the first place…

It is because I have people who love and care for me… I need them, and they need me. Our roots are as intermingled as those huge redwoods… And this week, as I go through another round of chemical cocktails and the after effects that linger for weeks, they will be here… They can’t do it for me, but I am not alone…

I have a grove to hold me up through this coming storm… And our love for each other is greater than my fear of what is ahead.

What about you? Did you or have you ever struggled with the idea of facing something that feels overwhelming? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

We all know this isn’t easy, but you aren’t alone! We are here… Let us be your grove.

This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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… Finding Gratitude

This has been one of those weeks where all I can think about is how blessed I am…

This week I received news that my childhood neighbors’ daughter had passed away. She was so young with so much of life ahead. My heart is broken for her family and the pain they must feel at this point. While every loss is different, pain is pain… And I remember that pain.

For me, throughout this journey, there are have been days (even weeks and months in the beginning) where I try as I might, I couldn’t see any light at the end of the tunnel. The simple act of getting through a day was all the action I could muster when it came to moving forward and healing. There were times when each day seemed to blend into the next… one gray day after another… I couldn’t seem to find anything to offer hope.

Yet hope was what I needed, because growth and change can’t happen without it. Hope is what gives us the energy to keep trying and the belief that things WILL improve.

It took some time, but I can definitely say I eventually found the hope I needed to pull myself out. Yes, there are still days where I flounder… There are still days when I don’t understand why, and when I would give anything to have Bruce here by my side. But, even then, I can usually find my way back to a positive space.

As I thought about it this week, I came to realize how many people have been there to help me through those tough times. In the beginning, it was so easy to get caught up in who wasn’t there. But that wasn’t really fair… I had no idea what was going in their world or why things happened as they did. Instead, the important thing is who has been there.

Also, here is the other thing, it really wasn’t what anyone said that made a difference… It was the gift of presence… The gift of just being there. Granted, there were people who wanted to “say the right thing,” and I understand that desire. But honestly, there is no “right thing” to say. When you lose someone, it hurts… The pain is awful! And there are no words that can make that pain stop… not one word. Instead, those words would usually just shut me down, which was worse.

In fact, I would say that the greater the pain, the fewer words are actually needed… Instead, just give me that gift of presence… That willingness for someone else to come alongside and share the pain… That was the greatest gift given to me by so many people… And that is a gift I am so grateful for on this end.

But that’s not all…

When I received the news of my neighbor’s death this week, there were things mentioned about not questioning “God’s plan” and fighting the urge to “correct God.” I know a lot of people think about death this way… Shoot, I did too when Bruce first died… and all it did was make me very angry at God.

It took me a long time to realize, God doesn’t work like that… To my way of thinking, he doesn’t like death either… It was never a part of his original plan. In fact, according to my faith, He has still provided a “loop hole” (if you will), when it comes to life and death. In other words, He gets it! He hurts when we hurt… He understands our pain, and he would never create that… So, no, I don’t believe God moves us around on some giant game board until he decides our time is over. That would be a God I wouldn’t be very interested in… period.

Instead, as I was reading my devotions this week, I came across several verses about the blessings God gives us, and they touched my heart. For example, here are a couple:

“In all things, God works for the good of those who love him.” ~ Romans 8:28

“I will bless you with a future filled with hope – a future of success, not suffering.” ~ Jeremiah 29:11

It took me years to let go of old beliefs and get to this understanding. However, by doing so, hope came back in my horizon, and that has meant a world of difference to me. To understand, there is a God who wants to bless me not hurt me… Who can turn something good out of something bad, has changed my whole outlook on life.

For example, with this latest twist in my journey, there have been days when I have struggled with the “why me” of it all and how to do this without Bruce. Yet, in my heart I know I am not alone, and something good can and will come of all this.

Even this week as I have dealt with the aftermath of my second chemo round, I found myself realizing just how blessed I am… Yes, there are side effects. But all told, I have come off pretty easy. Not only that, but once again, I have some amazing people who are here for me… Some physically; some in spirit. I am so blessed to have so many people who check on me, do for me and send messages of encouragement and hope; my life is filled with the gift of presence in so many forms.

For me, these people are my gifts… They are the blessings God has sent to see me through… and I am so very grateful for each and every one…

Thank you for being my blessing in this storm!

What about you? Did you or have you ever struggled with the idea of finding blessing while facing loss? We all know it isn’t easy… How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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… Choosing Laughter

The sun sets at the end of the day.
The sky is pink.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.
The full moon rises over the trees.
It lights up the world.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.
The storm rolls in with its dark clouds.
It puts on a show for the world.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.
The waves crash onto the beach.
There for a moment and then gone again.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.
All around me life goes on.
I see you in every flower,
And feel you in the stir of the wind.
Your soul reaches out to me to remember…
I do…
And I smile.
~ Linda, October 2013

I remember when I went through my divorce years ago – things remained extremely tense for such a long time. At one point, my mom sent me a CD of a comedian along with a note telling me I “needed to laugh.” As I put the CD into the player of my car, I shook my head thinking, “She doesn’t get it. My life is falling apart… I don’t think I can laugh anymore.” But as is usually the case, I was wrong, and my mom was right. Within a few short minutes, I was laughing so hard, I could barely breathe! What a great release!

When Bruce passed away, I found myself thinking I would never laugh again… every bit of joy was gone from my life. Once again, someone wiser than me counseled me on the importance of finding some joy each day… Not just something to be grateful for (as I’ve discussed in the past), but something to make me smile… and, yes, maybe even laugh.

I will always remember the first time I laughed after Bruce passed away. We were telling “Bruce Stories,” and before I knew it, I found myself laughing at some of the best memories ever! However, as soon as I realized what I was doing, I stopped short. How could I laugh? My world had fallen apart! What in the world did I have to laugh about?

As time passed, I would find myself laughing at little things such as the sayings of my (then) toddler grandson or a joke on the radio. But each time, I would catch myself… and stop. Those same feelings of “what did I have to laugh about?” kept returning… And so many times, I let it steal my joy.

I’m not sure at what point or even who said it, but somewhere on this path, someone suggested that perhaps I needed to give myself permission to laugh. At about the same time, I started reading one of Bruce’s favorite, “go-to” books, The Importance of Living by Lin Yutang. Within the first few pages, he presents the idea that a sense of humor has the function of not letting us “bump our heads against the stone wall of reality.” In other words, to be wise we need to learn to combine our reality with our dreams and a sense of humor.

This opened a door for me… If this book was Bruce’s “go-to” and these were the ideas of the author… perhaps… just perhaps, Bruce, himself, was trying to tell me that I needed to laugh again. Perhaps by giving myself permission to laugh, I was also giving myself permission to heal.

And so I did…

It started slowly. I started retelling stories and sharing memories of Bruce and I that made me laugh. By starting here, I found that I could honor Bruce’s memory and find my healing through laughter all at the same time. I quickly found that other people who knew him, were more than willing to dive in and share their funny stories as well. In fact, not too long ago, one of Bruce’s high school buddies shared a story of their teenage shenanigans that still makes me laugh every time I read it.

What a blessing! I must say that in the past few years, I have learned to be so thankful for the healing gift of laughter and the balance that a sense of humor can bring to our lives each and every day… no matter what our current reality holds.

“If we don’t pause,
the hardships of the world will slowly de-sensitize us from the simple joys that life has to offer.
Stop and take a breath.
Enjoy the moment without needing the moment to be perfect.
Life is what happens between the cracks of perfection.”
~ Erik Wahl

What about you? Did you or have you ever struggled with the idea of laughing in the face of loss? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts? Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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 Bald Thought

Nope… That’s not a type. I meant to write “bald,” because that’s what’s happened in my world this week.

When I first learned I would need chemo after all, I also learned about many of the side effects my particular “cocktail” could create. People tried to be sweet by telling me stories of friends who never had any side effects… They never missed a day of work, never felt sick or never lost their hair.

It was kind, and their hearts were all in the right place. But there is a truth I learned when Bruce died – everyone’s experience is different… I could hope, but I couldn’t count on that being my experience. Plus, I had already been told my treatment (as described by my oncologist) was a medium aggressive treatment. She had told me I was not going to get through completely unscathed… In particular and without a doubt, the hair was going to go.

I was told to expect it to fall out within 14 – 21 days of the first treatment. So, I was ready… or so I thought. Originally, I took off 4 inches within days of learning about the chemo. Then, last week I cut it into a super short pixie… All to help my brain transition into the idea of being bald.

I knew it was coming. I know it would grow back. And I know it is just hair.

Just like with my grief, my rational side knew the facts. In preparation, I had switched to a gentler shampoo with extra conditioner. I had stopped using any heating tools. In other words, I was doing everything I knew to “baby” my hair in the hopes of it lasting as long as possible. However, in the end, I still knew the inevitable was going to happen.

What I came to realize, though, was that my emotional side wasn’t prepared. How could it be? The last time I had no hair was over 55 years ago, and I didn’t have any self-image issues at the time. In other words, I had no idea how exposed and vulnerable losing my hair was going to leave me feeling.

Up until Thursday (day 14, by the way), my hair seemed to be hanging in there. When I woke up on Thursday, there was nothing on my pillow… nothing to alert me for what happened next. As I brushed my hands through my hair, out came the first handful. My initial thought wasn’t “here it goes.” Nope, my first thought was “Hmmm, that’s really weird.”

Then, I did it again… and again… Each time my hand was filled with hair. I managed to fill up my (plugged) sink four times, before I accepted what I was seeing. Then, almost the same amount came out in the shower. I would like to say, I took a deep breath and just accepted what was, but that isn’t what happened. Instead, I cried… not hard or loud, just silent tears as I continued to dress for the day, as more and more hair fell onto the counter and the floor around me.

As the day progressed, it was hard to keep my hands away from my head. It didn’t hurt. My hair just seemed to be “abandoning ship” at a terrifying rate… And try as I might to remain logical, I learned there was more to it than “just hair.”

I found myself feeling quite powerless, which is a vulnerable feeling. I don’t know about you, but I like my lists, and I like checking things off my list. I like to plan, and I like to be prepared… In other words, I have a need to be in control… Not in control of everyone or everything – just in control of me and those things that are specific to me.

Thankfully, I know me… When I lose that control, I want to hide… That is my go-to behavior. I’m not saying it is the right behavior; I’m just saying it is how I tend to respond. When Bruce died, I made myself go to work after a couple of weeks, mainly because I was scared if I didn’t, I might never leave my house again. Granted, I mostly hid in my office. But, I still scheduled time each day to walk through the office and talk to people just to make myself get out there.

So, on Thursday, when the hair started falling out, I found myself wondering if it would be possible to just stay inside (and hide) for the next several months… I knew it was crazy to get so emotional over hair. I just never realized how attached I was to my hair… I never considered how often I “hide behind my hair and place so much of my own self-worth in this silly mop on my head.

I found myself wondering how Bruce would have reacted… There is a (big) part of me that believes if he were here, he would kiss my little, bald head and tell me how much he loves me. But on Thursday, there was another (very small) part of me that was glad he isn’t here to see me like this… I know that probably sounds weird… After all, I know he loved me, but that is how emotional this balding thing was.

By Thursday evening, though, I knew I needed to do something to pull myself out of the funk I was falling into. I needed to feel like I still had a little bit of power in this whole, crazy thing. That is when I decided to go ahead and shave it off – no more handfuls of hair… no more waiting… and mostly, no more crying.

So that is exactly what I did. On Friday, with my daughter and grandson beside me for support, I went ahead and had my hair dresser buzz it. (So, no… I’m still not squeaky-clean bald, and the tiny little hairs are still falling out each time I rub my head.)

But, the deed is done! So far, using scarves or the wig I bought weeks ago, I have been out to eat, shopping and to church. In other words – I am not hiding. I am fine. On this side of the experience, I keep thinking it’s so crazy how much power I gave my hair in my own self-esteem. After all, I’m still me! I don’t feel or think any different. Well… except when I look in the mirror. Because it takes a while to register that it is me in the reflection, I end up giggling every time.

This current twist on my journey is taking quite a bit of adjustment. But what I’m finding is the lessons I have learned in my grief for Bruce are giving me the strength to see this through. I can do this… and not only will I be okay… I believe I will be stronger for it in the end!

Everyone deals with loss, grief and the hurdles of life in their own way. How we handle the pain and deal with the challenges on our journey is different for each of us. As for me, I still stumble, but I keep getting back up and trying again… I am still learning. So, I guess I will just keep praying for the peace and strength to make through each day.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share your story with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

If you are struggling with grief, loss, loneliness, please know you are not alone – We are here. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Thoughts for Today

There have been so many lessons learned on this crazy journey. There have been so many things I was sure of in the beginning, only to realize later how very wrong I was. (Then, again, isn’t that life?)

Five years ago, I was hurting so badly I processed everything through the lense of hurt. I couldn’t understand or make sense of most of the world around me… But I believe that is the way of grief… The pain is so intense, and the ability to process anything outside that pain is close to impossible.

As the years have passed, I have learned to look at things again… Only now, I try to remind myself to pull outside of the hurt, and to process the world around me with love and compassion… The same love and compassion the world has shown me, (even when I didn’t recognize it).

One of the biggest things I have realized is how all loss produces a lot of the same feelings, whether it is the loss of a loved one, a friendship, a job, or my health… Each loss involves grief in a way, and once we recognize that, I believe we are better able to deal with it.

This week has been one of those weeks. It has been my first week after my first chemo treatment…

First of all, my first treatment was on Friday the 13th, and my last treatment will be on 9/11. Now, that is either the start of a suspense novel or some really, creepy foreshadowing! (I’ve had to talk myself out of being a little freaked out about this one a few times.) Seriously, though, this whole cancer thing has brought back a lot of the same emotions (albeit on a smaller scale), which I dealt with years ago when Bruce died.

One of the biggest emotions I dealt with this week was my inclination to push people away. Why do I do that?? I need the support… and I know the people around me love me.

However, here is my honest confession…

When Bruce died, people didn’t always respond the way I expected, and in my pain, I took it personally. One of the biggest mistakes I made was thinking people knew what I needed. They didn’t, of course! How could they?? But there was enough information out there saying, “Don’t ask the person grieving to ask for help – just do it.” Never mind that the people around me weren’t reading this – I was. Yet somehow, I held them accountable… It all sounds so ridiculous now, and thankfully, the people around me loved me through this in spite of myself.

So, this week, when I found myself at the mercy of the toxins floating around in my body, I have also found myself in need of help. That is a hard one for me… I don’t mind helping others but asking for help is another story.

I can’t even begin to tell you the number of people who have said, “Let me know if you need anything… Anything at all. I am here for you.” And even though they mean, do you think I have asked? Rarely… So then, I had to ask myself why…

At first, I found myself back in the same old mindset of “I can’t ask you; just do it.” Then, I came to my senses and fussed at myself for being so unfair… They do care… They mean it… I can’t put my issues at their feet; I have to own those myself.

So, what is the issue?? I don’t know. I haven’t figured that part out. Even when the people around me are helping, I feel so overwhelmed with guilt. I hate the idea that my health issues have placed an extra burden on someone else. Yet, they keep telling me it is okay… They don’t mind… That is love… That is something I haven’t minded giving to others, but to accept it from someone involves trust…

Maybe that is my issue. Maybe I am scared to love and trust… and possibly be hurt again…

Since I am crying as I write this, I am guessing that is my answer… My own fears of feeling all that pain again is what has created this. And maybe that is why I find myself in a place where I have to ask for help… They say there are some life lessons you are destined to encounter over and over until you actually learn it…

Maybe this is mine… Learning to trust life enough to accept the love around me… So, to all those who are by my side through this – Thank you… And I love you!

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. How we handle the pain and deal with he challenges in our journey is different for each of us. As for me, I am still learning, and all I can do is pray for the peace and strength to make through each day.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share your story with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

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… The Way Things Are

This week I read a story about a man named Jim Thorpe. He was a Native American from Oklahoma who competed in the 1912 Olympics. He represented the U.S. in track and field events. On the morning of his competition, he found his shoes had been stolen. He managed to find two mismatched shoes in the garbage can, but because one was too big, he had to wear extra socks on that foot. Despite the circumstances, he went on to win two gold medals that day… two!

Now that’s an amazing story! As I have pondered it this week, it has hit me two different ways…

First, it was a stark reminder that Bruce has left me in a world where people still mistreat each other and justify it to themselves because of their own fears about race, gender, sexual orientation, religion, and the list goes on and on. I see it everywhere… I see it on Face Book, Twitter, our neighborhood website, the news, and radio talk show hosts.

When Bruce was here, it wasn’t as prevalent on the internet, (or maybe we just weren’t on there enough to notice). But we still saw it on the news or heard it on the radio, and he would shake his head and wonder out loud where all this was heading… I guess, now we know.

I have to be honest… For me, it hurts when the people I care about post things that basically say, “Think like me or you are stupid.” Seriously?? I don’t think like everyone I know. (Who does?) These are things that most of these people would never say to my face. So why is it okay to post it on the internet? When did we stop respecting each other’s differences? When did we lose the idea that all of these different opinions are what actually make us stronger? Because when we actually co-operate and collaborate to reach a solution, we find ways to respect everyone in the picture… That is my hope.

So many times in my journal, I have asked Bruce how I am supposed to deal with all of this. And why did he leave me to deal with it alone? At times like that, this world feels like a scary place, and I wish he were still here by my side… holding me tight, and reminding me to see the good, when I really just want to hide.

The second way this story hit me was in being a widow…

When Bruce died so suddenly, it was like waking up to find my shoes stolen. I needed Bruce just as Jim Thorpe needed his shoes. Instead, I have had to find other ways to get through life. I am sure there are many times when I look like I have on mismatched shoes… And at times, they definitely feel like they are way too big. But then I look at where I was and where I am now, and I realize… I am doing it. I am still running the race, and I believe I am doing a pretty good job.

In fact, while this blog has become my safe space to talk candidly about “my stolen shoes” and what it feels like to “run in shoes that don’t feel like mine and are way too big,” if you know me personally, you also know I don’t dwell on my grief in public. (Or at least, I haven’t done so in years.) In fact, I won’t mention it or talk about it unless I am asked directly. It is one of those things I have learned to keep to myself…

Instead, I have chosen to keep running… sometimes I trip and fall, but each time, I get back up and keep going… There was a time, when I wasn’t sure I could go on… but I have. There are still days when I feel lost and alone… but then someone reaches out, helps me up, and I realize I’m okay.

Jim Thorpe’s race wasn’t over, and mine isn’t either… I can do this… I know I can… I still have some “gold to win” in this life!

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. We all find answers and comfort in various sources… That is what makes us all unique and different. It is funny how a story which took place over a century ago can still touch my heart and remind me that I’m doing okay. I know all I can do is pray for peace and the strength to make it through each day… one at a time.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share your story with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

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… Night Time

I wake up, and I reach for you,
But you aren’t there.
I long to feel your warm body next to mine.
In my sleep, I try to snuggle closer,
But there is only empty space.
Each time, I am pulled out of my dreams.
Then, I am awake with nothing but the realization that you are gone.
How long will this go on?
Will my subconscious mind ever be content to sleep alone?
Will my heart always reach for you in the dark?
… Probably.
~ Linda, July 2018

Days are hard. That’s probably why most of my writings are about my daytime thoughts and experiences. For the first few years after Bruce died, my days were filled with tears. There were constant reminders that he was gone. There were constant struggles with the loneliness and feelings of abandonment. But the nights… (sigh)… I must say, the nights have always been the hardest… even now.

Since Bruce passed away, sleep is something I struggle with night after night. I stay tired all the time, yet insomnia has found a home in my bed, and I am at a loss. For the first few years, I woke up every night at the exact same time he died… 1:15 am. It seemed to be the “magic hour” to relive those horrific memories. Night after night, I would lay in the dark and cry… for hours.

Over time, I have stopped waking at that exact time. In fact, in the last year or so, I have even managed to sleep all the way through some nights. But most nights, I still find myself reaching out for him in the dark… And when he isn’t there, I am awake… again.

It’s funny what our minds will do… or won’t do… or maybe can’t do… I’m not sure which it is.

During the day, when my mind starts to dwell too long on Bruce’s death and my current situation, I can force myself to think of other things. I can recall quotes and verses to give me strength through the hardest moments. As long as I am aware and catch my thought process soon enough, I know I can turn it around before I spiral down too far. It has taken years to learn how to do this, but I have gotten better and better at this as time passes.

But night times… that is a very different story. Sleep is supposed to be the time to let go of your thoughts and rest. If I were to try to remain in control of my thoughts, then I would be awake. So, this is a battle I have not yet won. I have tried so many things to help me sleep – teas, over the counter meds, oils, night time yoga, meditation, relaxation mind exercises, lavender everything… You name it, I’ve tried it.

But the truth is this… My heart is still connected to his… And when my mind is left to its own devices, it will always reach out for him…

And, honestly, I don’t see a time where that will ever change.

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. We all find answers and comfort in various sources… That is what makes us all unique and different. For me, nights continue to be a time of struggle and longing. I cannot begin to explain the way my heart breaks each time I reach for Bruce in the dark and come up empty. It is like trying to control something that cannot be controlled… Instead, all I can do is pray for peace and the strength to make it through another night… alone.

Does any of this sound familiar to you? If so, would you be willing to share your story with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

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… Walking Through the Valley

The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
He leads me beside the still waters,
He restores my soul.
He leads me in the path of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for He is with me; His rod and His staff, they comfort me.
He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies; He anoints my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
~ Psalm 23

I can remember being in the third grade and memorizing this passage. I can’t say I thought too much about it… I certainly didn’t understand it. In my little 8-year-old head, I pictured all these things as concrete actions… like something in a fairy tale – nice to think about, but not anything that was going to happen in 1971. It was an assignment, and I did it.

I also remember our teacher, Mrs. Ezell, instructing us on the importance of memorizing scripture. “There may come a day when you do not have a Bible readily available. You never know what you will have to go through as you get older. Having these verses in your mind will allow you to recall them as you need them.” (I must also admit; the importance of that statement didn’t sink in until my adult years.)

Throughout so many events in my adult life, however, I have clung to this passage and the promises it holds… Promises of a God who loves me enough to provide and care for me even when I can’t (or won’t) do it for myself.

When I finally made the decision to leave the chaos and violence of my first marriage, it was tough. After I left, it still took three years to get a divorce due to the games and nonsense, my ex-spouse decided to pull. During that time, it seemed as if we, (my kids and I), were under constant attack. This created high anxiety and required constant vigilance on all our parts.

However, I found when I called on the promises in this verse, my anxiety level went down… Knowing God had my back made all the difference in the world. Was it still hard? Yes. Were we still vigilant? Yes. It was the worry and anxiety that was relieved… And that gave us back the ability to think clearly as we moved on with our lives.

Years later, when Bruce died, I was in such shock and pain, I couldn’t think at all. Even this passage which had carried me through before did not come to mind. When people suggested I read the Psalms for comfort, I would flip through the pages, but I found nothing there.

I was too lost in my loneliness to find comfort anywhere…

Plus, I was so angry with God in the beginning… How could I trust Him? How could I believe He had my best interest at heart? I didn’t – It was that simple.

It was at least a year, before I could start to open my heart up again. It started off slow… small steps. It started with music, then small snippets of verses. Over time, I found myself crawling out of the darkness on my hands and knees, and looking for the God who said he loved me… The God who said he would never abandon me…

Once again, this passage became my mantra. I was definitely passing through “the valley of the shadow of death,” but learning to “fear no evil” was a hard one. Instead, I had to focus on “lying beside still waters,” as I waited for God to “restore my soul.”

It has taken a long time, and I still have days where I struggle. (Don’t we all?) But in my heart, I have come to trust that God is beside me – still loving me and caring for me… Because when I am grieving, I can not do these things for myself… It is too hard. I can’t do it alone, but I can do it with God. I don’t believe that means I’m not supposed to cry or feel sad – not at all. For me, it means God is there beside me… I simply have to make the choice to look for him.

Look up, my child.
I am here…
Don’t look down,
I am not there.
Keep your eyes on me.
Don’t let the clouds block your view.
Look beyond them…
The blue sky is always there,
Even behind the clouds.
Stop focusing on the clouds.
Focus on the sky…
Focus on Me.
Keep Me in your view.
I am here guiding you…
Loving you… always.
~ Linda, September 2015

They say there are certain lessons in life we have to learn. If we don’t learn them the first time, we are destined to go through similar circumstances over and over until we do. For me, I have come to believe that lesson is learning to trust God. That is a hard one for me. I know he has seen me through every time, and yet, I struggle.

These past two weeks, our family experienced a crisis which broke my heart and required me to trust God. Honestly, I didn’t want to… I wanted to fix it… Or I wanted someone to fix it. In a practical world, what was God going to do?… Really?

Then this passage started popping up everywhere. It seemed I couldn’t get parts of it out of my head…

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for He is with me; His rod and His staff, they comfort me. He prepares a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”

We were walking through the valley… Would God really show the opposing side that He had our backs on this? I struggled to trust, yet I knew I had no other choice. Then in my evening devotions, I read something that clicked for me… “Keep speaking God’s word over your problem.”

The next morning as I stepped into the shower, my brain started to do it’s worry thing… I started thinking of all the things that might go wrong… How could we deal with any of it? Until I remembered that advice… “Speak God’s word over my problem,” and so I did…

For the next few days, I prayed the same prayer over and over and over… “God you know what this is… It is in your hands… We are walking in the valley, and I am calling on you to ‘prepare that table.’ Please show me, my trust in you is good and right… I know this is my lesson, and I also know this is my struggle… Help me to trust you…”

I will tell you things could not have turned out better. God saw us through… There is still a battle down the road, but the crisis is over. As for me, I learned (again) that when I choose to focus on God instead of focusing on my problems, miracles happen…

Then, I am able to “lie in green pastures” and “beside still waters” … And my soul is restored…

Everyone deals with loss, grief and LIFE in their own way. We all find answers and comfort in various sources. That is what makes us all unique and different. Admittedly, I usually steer away from religion when I write. I don’t want anyone to think I am trying to preach… That is not my goal here. My only goal today has been to share a poem which has helped me on numerous occasions. It is a source of strength for me.

Do you have something that provides that sense of calmness in the storm? If so, would you share it with us? There may be someone out there who needs to hear exactly what you have to say…

If you are struggling with grief, loss, or loneliness, please know you are not alone – We are here. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… A Tribute to a Father

His Love
A love that is pure
A love that sees who you can be,
Not who you are in that moment.
A love with no strings attached;
No conditions, no rules…
Just a love that is,
From a man who embodied love…
pure, complete love.
~ Linda, November 24, 2013

Father’s Day… hmmm – Interesting day. Today’s blog is not really about grief. Instead it is filled with memories… it is a tribute to the man who became the father of my children. I am not talking about genetics or biology. I am talking about the man who loved my kids unconditionally – no judgement, no preconceived ideas or expectations – nothing but love. I am referring to Bruce… the man who came into our lives for such a short time and changed everything we thought we knew about families and fathers.

However, to understand his impact, let me back up and explain a little bit here…
When I left my children’s biological father, my intent was to get my children out of a dysfunctional and unsafe home. I just wanted to see them safe and protected. The court psychologist agreed and recommended no visitation for my ex-husband – not even supervised visitation. His recommendation was no parental rights (period).

When it came down to the final paperwork, according to my attorney, my ex-husband responded he would not fight the psychologist’s recommendation if I would agree to give him over 2/3 of the money (instead of the 50-50 set by state law) … I agreed. Essentially, I bought my children… I paid for their safety and a life of peace. I’ve never regretted that choice… It was the best deal I ever made.

After the divorce, I wasn’t looking for anyone or any type of relationship. However, when I met Bruce, there was an instant connection, and we were married ten months later. However, because we had lived a thousand miles apart, my kids hadn’t had a lot of time to get to know him very well. They had met him and knew who he was, but they didn’t really know him… not yet.

I wanted things to work for our new family, so I started researching and reading everything I could find on step-parenting and blended families. Everything I read said it would take at least two years for our family to develop the relationships and new roles within our new family… and that was if things went well.

Bruce, on the other hand, had watched his own daughter struggle for years in a step-family relationship. He had his own concept of how he wanted to do this and (as far as I know) never read a single thing about step-families. He knew exactly what to do, and he did it consistently. Within 6 months, our family was a solid unit with my kids referring to Bruce as their father… In other words – he was amazing!

When I had moved to Michigan to marry Bruce, my youngest daughter was the only one to come with me. My oldest daughter had already graduated college and was living on her own. My second daughter was away at college. And my son was in the middle of his senior year, already 18 and did not want to move… To say my youngest daughter was angry about the whole situation would be an understatement.

The night we arrived in Michigan, Bruce was so excited we were there. He greeted the two of us with smiles and hugs. My daughter pushed him aside, went straight to her new room, shut the door and remained there. I apologized to Bruce, but he only smiled and gave the same response I would hear for the next few months, “There is nothing to apologize for… she is angry. I can understand that, and my shoulders are big enough to take it.”

Much later I learned he had left her a note on her bed that night saying just about the same thing. He told her that he was not trying to replace anyone or be her Dad. But he was here, and he would always be here… for her… no matter what.
When she tells this story, she will tell you that she tore that note up immediately. She will also tell you that she put his words to the test… and she did. She tried everything to make him not like her… much less love her. But he was true to his word… he never wavered, no matter what she tried. The amazing part? Within 6 months, on our first Father’s Day together, she baked him cookies and for the first time, called him her Dad.

That was who this man was… a big, gentle giant of a man with a heart that would not quit. Over the short time we were together, he built positive relationships with each of my kids. With my oldest (who was already a young adult), it was a peaceful, friendly relationship. I remember on one visit she introduced us to her neighbor as her mom and dad. The neighbor said, “Wow, you look just like your dad.” She didn’t try to correct him or explain. Instead, she and Bruce just smiled like Cheshire cats and hugged each other tight.

My second daughter and Bruce were tight from the very first time they met, which was actually before we married. She had picked him up at the airport for me and driven him the two hours to our town. During that drive, she told him that she was glad to see her mom so happy, and she really liked him. Then, she went on to tell him that if he ever broke my heart or hurt me, she would “open a can of ‘whoop-a$$’ on him.” He used to laugh when he told that story, because she isn’t much taller than me and just as petite. He absolutely loved her fire and energy for life, and they were best buds from that day forward.

When her son was born, he also instantly bonded with his “Papa.” They would play and “hang out” for hours. In Bruce’s eyes, that boy could do no wrong. To this day, my grandson still talks about his Papa… He tells me all the time Papa is his guardian angel. The bond between those two is so strong it even seems to transcend this life.

My son was with me on the cruise when Bruce and I actually met. He was the world’s best chaperone on that trip. At one point when he saw Bruce holding my hand, he cracked me up by commenting, “A little cheeky, don’t you think?” Cheeky?? What 17-year-old says, “cheeky?”

Within no time though, my son let his guard down and stopped trying to “protect” his mom. It didn’t take long for the two of them to build a solid relationship. This relationship was such a blessing for my son. For the first time, he had the experience of a healthy, male role model and friend… a man to show him “how to be a man”… a man to show him how to treat a woman… all things I could never do as his mother.

From the beginning, Bruce was willing to do whatever was needed to move our family forward… anything from teaching teenagers to drive and helping with homework to offering unconditional love and acceptance as they tried to figure out how they each fit into this world. It was an amazing experience! How could a woman not love a man who loves her children so completely? And what did we give to Bruce in return? A family… a big family… and all the love and craziness that comes with that. : )

That was my husband… That was the man who became my children’s father… That was the man we lost and grieve and still miss. So as another Father’s Day comes and goes, I will tell you what I have told Bruce every year…

“Thank you, Babe, for being a Dad to my kids… being a Dad is so much more than biology… It is a life-long commitment. Thank you for stepping into their lives and showing them what a healthy man and a healthy marriage looks like. Thank you for loving us all unconditionally – no judgement, no preconceived expectations – nothing but love. You were the missing piece in our family. In our short time together, you taught us so much and brought healing where we did not think it was possible. You forever changed our lives. I have told you every day and I will say it again, ‘You are my hero and I will love you forever!‘”

Holidays are hard when someone we love is gone. Perhaps you have a memory or story of your loved one that you would like to share with our community. Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving a note.*

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… Looking for Signs

“Well, that’s it. You see what you want to see, and you hear what you want to hear.” ~ Harry Nilsson, The Point

When Bruce died, I read and heard about so many people who received signs from the people they had lost. Since it didn’t seem to be everyone, I figured, who knows… Maybe Harry Nilsson got it right… Maybe we see what we choose to see or ignore what we choose to ignore. As for me… I was hoping for signs… Even to this day, I continually look for signs from Bruce… And he has sent them. Signs that he is here. Signs things will be okay. Signs that let me know I am not alone.

One of the first signs I recognized was pelicans…

I have always loved pelicans. They are a symbol of sacrificial love and are often seen depicted in churches. After Bruce’s memorial, I was awestruck as a flock of 21 pelicans flew overhead. In that moment, it seemed so right… A great reminder of Bruce’s love – unconditional and sacrificial – never one to put himself first. Even today, whenever I see a pelican, I find myself whispering, “I love you too, Babe.”

Other signs have included objects (with some significance to Bruce and I) being moved. (I’m a bit picky about where things belong, so I definitely notice when something is moved.) For example, a friend gave me a worry doll after Bruce passed away. It lays on my bedside table in front of my lamp. One morning when I awoke, it was missing. I looked on the floor, but it wasn’t there. A few hours later, as I sat down to write in my journal, I found it. It had moved across the room, onto my desk. It was sitting in the center of a palm-frond Cherokee rose given to me by Bruce when we were on a vacation in SC.

Another sign involved our foosball table. Bruce and I loved playing foosball. Whenever we played, he always flipped his men nearest his goal, so he wouldn’t block himself, if he took a shot. When Bruce died, I was alone… I wasn’t playing foosball. As I mentioned, I am a bit particular, so I would always make sure the men were lined up precisely. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I would walk by the table to find his men flipped upside down in “true Bruce fashion.” (Granted, now I have an 8-year-old little boy in the house, so I no longer pay attention to the foosball men.)

Then of course, there was the butterfly dream when this whole cancer thing first started. Because of that dream, butterflies have come to symbolize Bruce’s presence and guidance throughout this ordeal…

I live in a small town. While we have a cancer center, my care there was not instilling confidence or trust. My questions were not being answered. Instead, I was consistently told, “This is how we treat all cancer here. Just do it.” But that didn’t work for me… I’ve done my homework, and I know there are different treatment options out there. Breast cancer is not a cookie cutter disease with one cookie cutter treatment.

So, the more I was dismissed, the more I dug in my heels. Finally, a saint within the system recognized my frustration, and I was given a referral to a (very large) breast cancer clinic just a few hours away.

As we walked into the first building 2 weeks ago, my sister nudged me and pointed… There on the wall was a mural of butterflies larger than me. I smiled. Maybe this was a sign… It sure felt like it. We took the elevator upstairs to the breast clinic. There on the wall was a metal sculpture of hundreds of butterflies. At that point, I knew this was where I needed to be… This is where I could relax in the hands of doctors who would treat me with the latest knowledge, treatments… and respect.

Sure enough… my questions have all been answered. I have been given options… And my choices have not been second guessed. But that’s not all…

This past week, we were there for my pre-surgery work-up. I walked into the hotel room feeling apprehensive and a bit sad – still wishing more than anything, that Bruce were here beside me. I put down my bags and looked around. There on the wall was a beautiful painting of a pelican… A whispered, “Thank you, Babe… I love you too,” instantly escaped my lips.

And while I know I won’t be able to feel Bruce physically beside me tomorrow, I still know, without a doubt, he is here… And in my heart, I know I am where I am supposed to be, because he sent me here.

While everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way, sometimes new trauma is that much harder to handle simply because those we loved are no longer beside us… It can feel lonely and overwhelming. However, being open to the signs that our loved ones are still with us, can have a miraculous affect on our outlook. These were my thoughts and reactions this week as I prepare to undergo surgery and the follow-up treatments. Maybe something in this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have experienced something similar. If so, we are here, you are not alone.

If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

Quick Note: I am not sure how this next week will play out, and if I will be able to post next week. Please know that I will do my best to be here. Thank you for your good thoughts, prayers and positive vibes as I prepare to “fight the good fight!”

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