Peace, Love & Grief – Page 3 – There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered

Peace, Love, and Grief – Sometimes It Just Feels So Absurd

Grief is so strange. Seriously, I don’t think there is anything normal about it… And yet, this new path is supposedly our “new normal”. I don’t get it… Grief, really and truly, is anything but.

This week, while listening to a podcast, the woman (talking about the death of her husband) said, “It feels so absurd.” YES! Exactly! That is exactly it!

It feels so absurd that he is gone. It feels so absurd to live here alone. It feels so absurd to celebrate anything without him. It feels so absurd that I still find myself thinking, “Bruce would love this place,” whenever I find a new fun place. It feels so absurd that I still find myself listening for his truck in the driveway almost every single night. It feels so absurd to think that he isn’t coming home again… ever.

It all feels so absurd… And yet, it is what it is, and I can’t do anything to change it.

I can work on changing me, though, and I do. It is a daily, on-going process and some days I am more successful than others… But I stick with it… Mainly because what other choice is there?

Sometimes, though, I get a little reminder of our love. Whether that is because Bruce is still around, (maybe on another plane) or maybe it is the energy of our love still in the air, I don’t know… And honestly, I don’t care. It is not in me to break it down and inspect it. Instead, I simply recognize that these moments make me smile, and that is a precious gift, indeed.

This week, I had one of those moments. It was the morning after the podcast I mentioned above. I woke up thinking about the people in my life – those who have left and those who are still here. I don’t know what I had been dreaming, but that was where my head was.

Per usual, I turned on the radio and got into the shower. Now, I can’t hear the radio while the water is running, which is fine, I just like to have it on for when I get out and start getting dressed. While I was in the shower that morning, my thoughts went from the people in my life to Bruce. I found myself thinking about how somedays it feels like he just died yesterday and other times, it feels like I have been doing this alone forever…

As I turned off the water and reached for my towel, I heard it… the song, God Bless the Broken Road… That was “our” song almost from day one. I stopped, closed my eyes, and just let the song take me back… back to Bruce… and I smiled. In that moment my heart felt so full… Full of the love we shared… and if I’m honest, still do.

Then, it hit me that maybe… just maybe… this was another one of his “messages” – a message that he is here with me whether I know it or not… whether I can feel him or not… It may be absurd, but maybe I’m not so alone after all.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

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

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

Peace, Love, and Grief – Legacy of Love

“I learned that no matter the person, their errors, and our own beliefs, everyone deserves unconditional love.” ~ Emanuel Walker, The Daily Word: May June 2024

I know I write a lot about the legacy Bruce left behind. This week as I contemplate the relationships in my life, I find myself thanking him. Why? Maybe it is because the life he lived and the legacy he left behind has completely changed my own…

After my divorce and before I ever met Bruce, my mother wrote me a letter and in it she said, “I pray every day that you will find someone to love you like Jesus loves you – completely and unconditionally. After the violence and chaos of my first marriage, all I could think was, “I’m good. I just want some peace in my life.” Still… I thanked her for the kind words, because they really did mean a lot to me… even if I wasn’t on board.

Just a few short months later, I found myself on a cruise through the Caribbean falling in love in this man who offered me exactly that – complete and unconditional love.

I won’t lie. It was hard for me to understand and accept in the beginning. I had never known a love that didn’t require anything of me other than love… no rules… no choking down my own thoughts or opinions. Instead, there was a mutual respect that allowed each of us to be who we are… and even allowances for being human.

I’m almost ashamed to admit it, but even after many years, I struggled to understand it. There were times when I would start to revert back to what I knew… or thought I knew about love, but he always led the way and encouraged me to simply be me… He really and truly just wanted that… for me to be me.

He just had this knowing that we needed to each be who we were as individuals – no changing to meet the other’s expectations. In fact, the only expectation that he ever expressed was that of mutual devotion… And he made that so easy.

But it didn’t stop there… He extended that same unconditional love to our kids – his and mine. When we got married, we had five teenagers between us – he had one, and I had four. So, you can only imagine all that came with that situation.

It wasn’t impossible, though. They were and still are wonderful people with loving hearts. At the same time, they had a lot to figure out. My kids were coming out of the same environment I had been in, (and all of the emotional baggage that came with that) and his daughter suddenly found herself going from being her father’s only child to having a lot of siblings. It wasn’t easy for any of them, and we both knew that.

Yet, he managed to maintain that same unwavering, unconditional love for each and every one.

Did that mean he simply sat back and said nothing as they managed those difficult teen years – no. However, when he did step in, it was always with patience and love, and (with mine) it came with suggestions – not demands. He never tried to replace their father, but to simply be a loving person in their lives. I can’t even begin to tell you the miraculous effect it had on four teens who had only known anger, violence, and chaos from their biological father.

So, this week, as I look back on what was before Bruce, what came with Bruce, and what has come after Bruce, all I know is that I was so blessed with the gift of his love… A love that showed me exactly what love is really all about… Because love never demands that we give up any part of ourselves or that we be anything other than ourselves. We can still love those who choose not to love us as we are… who would rather walk away than to accept us for who we are… and that’s okay. It hurts, but it is honest… Because love – unconditional love – is just that – total and complete with no other demands… and I have been so blessed to have experienced that at least once in this lifetime.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Choosing to Be Okay

This week, we had something happen that every Floridian dreads… The AC went out. Thankfully, we live in a small town and my HVAC service tech knows me, so they were out within a few short hours. Turns out, it is the same fuse on “the board” that seems to get triggered every season since this unit was installed.

This time, the technician recommended replacing the board while it is still under warrantee… Makes sense to me. So now, we wait for the part to arrive, (hopefully by Tuesday).

Now, I know me pretty well, and I know that in the past, I would have been in tears… or at the very least, I would have been in “victim mode” – resigned to spending a miserably, hot weekend in a sweltering house.

Not today, though! Instead, I immediately booked a hotel (with a pool, of course). So today, I am fat and sassy and sitting poolside with a cool drink in my hand, a book in the other, and a smile on my face… which makes me think… Where did I learn this? … and I can just as easily tell you… from Bruce.

I will always remember how easily he just went with whatever life threw his way. It didn’t seem to matter what it was… He was always okay. (So different from any of the men I have previously known.)

One of the first times I saw this in action was the first weekend we spent on his boat. It was about a 20-foot sailboat with a small cabin below. Our plan was to enjoy sailing on Lake Michigan during the day and to sleep on the boat at the marina at night. It all sounded incredibly romantic to me… and it was… until I panicked.

The day had been lovely. We sailed up and down the coast, stopping to swim or for a bite to eat. During the evening, we stopped to watch the Blue Angels perform while Bruce did some grilling up on the deck. Then, as the sun set, (which in MI in July is close to 11 pm), we started to settle in for the night. That’s when I realized he didn’t fit on the bed. He was at least 6 – 7 inches too tall, leaving his feet hanging off the edge.

Automatically, I panicked. “First of all,” he said, “it’s not your job to worry about that. I bought this boat. I am also well aware of my size. I am happy because I am here with you.” … And that was that… My heart soared!

That wasn’t the first or last time when we both knew our circumstances weren’t stellar. Yet, every time, he always seemed to be okay. Nothing seemed to faze him – even when he was laid off or when one of our kids needed some help. None of it mattered…

The bottom line was… his world didn’t have to be perfect for him to enjoy it… What a legacy! No matter the circumstances, he could always find something to smile about… something to make it okay.

So, as I sit by the pool today at a strange hotel, (one of the last to still have space on this holiday weekend), I can smile because life may not be perfect, but I can still enjoy it, thanks to a man who taught me that we are all only responsible for our own happiness… and that is always a choice.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Choices

This week while, while reading a devotional about love, the opening question caught me by surprise… “How has fear dominated my life?”

Wait! Fear?? I thought this was supposed to be about love, but as I kept reading it dawned on me…

I can’t tell you where these messages came from or when they got so ingrained in my psyche, but (like a lot of women) somewhere in my youth, I “learned” several things:
1. Me… just being me… wasn’t “enough” for me to be worthy of someone else’s love.
2. It was my responsibility to keep the people around me happy.

So… If I wanted to be loved… If I wanted to “be enough”, I needed to never stray from doing everything in my power to keep others happy… Anything less was viewed as selfish and, hence, made me unlovable… And I was terrified of not being loved.

This, then, became a vicious circle that just kept expanding as I grew older, especially in my first marriage where the abuse instilled it even further – I wasn’t lovable because he wasn’t happy. It didn’t matter that I had no control over most of the things that frustrated him. It didn’t matter that he struggled with self-control and accountability. Due to the messages of my youth, fixing it was all up to me… or so I thought.

As I have written before, it finally reached the point of no return. I simply couldn’t do it (or take) anymore, and I left. I didn’t care if I went to hell… I was already living there. I needed find some peace… somewhere. I needed to learn how to be responsible to me, and I had no idea where to start. I had been a people pleaser for as long as I could remember. I didn’t know any other way to “be” …

… Until I met Bruce… This man… This loving, gentle man changed my world. He was always grateful when I did kind things or went out of my way to make him happy, but he also made a point of letting me know that it was not expected. He never saw his happiness as my responsibility, and even encouraged my independence.

Because of this, even though we were married, we kept a lot of things separate – not because of a lack of trust, but because we were two independent people… We kept separate bank accounts, (although we each listed the other on the account in case of emergencies); I kept my maiden name; we bought our own groceries, and (usually) cooked our own meals (although we ate together); we did our own laundry… and the list goes on.

So why bother being married? For us, the answer lay in the fact that we were two independent people who were hopelessly in love and wanted to spend as much time together as possible, while still living within our own morals… No judgement on how someone else chooses to do that – this was just the way we chose to do it.

I remember one rainy Sunday afternoon; we sat cuddling up on the couch. Bruce was watching sports of some kind, while I read a book. We were both doing our own things, and still able to enjoy just being together. Per normal, I was reading some kind of self-improvement book, (remember – “never enough”). I paused reading during a commercial and asked him what he needed from me as his wife… What I could I do to make it easier for him to love me?

Bruce took the book out of my hands and placed it on the coffee table in front of us, pulled me closer, looked me in the eye, and said, “You don’t need to do anything for me to love you. I just do. It is that simple… And all I will ever ask of you is to love me back.”

That stuck with me… Granted, the people pleasing had become a habit, and it was a hard one to break. Yet, over the years, with his encouragement, I started apologizing less and less for things that weren’t mine to own. I started learning to let others have their feelings and figure things out for themselves. Due to the habits I had created, this caused definite shifts in some relationships, but with time, these also found a way to exist in a healthier manner.

Then, he died… I was alone… My support was gone… The unconditional love that had given me confidence was gone. I felt abandoned, unloved, and unlovable… all the things I have always feared and more… So, I did what I had always done – I went back to the old habit of taking on everyone else’s happiness in order to be loved in some way… any way… no matter how small.

Throughout all of this time, I had been in and out of therapy. I would go for a while, start to feel better and thinking I had a solid plan, I would stop until something else popped up… and so on and so on. A couple of years ago, though, I started again, only this time, I have stuck with it. I have found help in the rough patches and growth in the good.

I have learned that my feelings of not being enough aren’t that unusual… Neither is my propensity for people pleasing. I have learned that “bad” things just happen in life. Each person’s response to that is up to them. We all have the choice to either accept it, reject it, or to try to micromanage the situation.

If we choose to micromanage it, we can either try to micromanage the actions of others to align with our own – using love and rejection as the “prizes”, (also called abuse), or we can micromanage ourselves using people pleasing to “buy” their love/friendship (also called enabling). Neither one is healthy and neither one can create a healthy relationship.

This is why my relationship with Bruce was so good… so healthy… because with him, I learned to accept the things I couldn’t change, as well as the things that weren’t my responsibility to fix. I learned that healthy relationships come by allowing each person to be who they are and respecting our differences… finding balance in my life by setting boundaries for myself (no one else) … because, after all, that is the only part of my world where I have any real control… myself… and only myself.

This last year, I have learned that I can be kind without losing who I am. I have, also, learned that by allowing fear to dominate my life, I lost my ability to be me. This meant others couldn’t love me because they didn’t know me. It really was a vicious circle. Now, though, my relationships, however they stand, are at least honest on my end. If someone loves me for me, GREAT! If they can’t, I am sad and it hurts, but I accept it… No more changing who I am to try to become someone else’s version of me.

I have learned how to love and how to be loved… Thank you, Babe, for your legacy which has supported me on this road. <3

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

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

Walking with Bruce

Currently, I am in Colorado for business. I lived here years ago, but because of the circumstances at that time, I rarely went out to see the local area. This time seemed to be starting off similarly. Throughout the week, I was just too busy to really do any exploring – leaving the hotel around 6:30 am and returning about 12 hours later.

However, today I woke up to sunny skies and decided I wanted to do something… anything… outside. I wanted to see this place and be able to appreciate the beauty here that is so different than back home. My hotel is not too far from the local botanical gardens, which sounded perfect. I could spend a few hours outside in nature, walking trails with no worries whatsoever about safety despite being alone.

As I was walking up to the ticket booth, two women about my same age offered to let me enter with them on their pass. I didn’t know what to say at first. They quickly assured me that I didn’t need to stay with them… They have three passes and whenever they come, they always offer to let someone in… Today it was me.

(Before I go any further, let me just say… It was the most beautiful, joy-filled morning!)

Almost immediately upon walking in, precious memories started popping into my mind…

It was my second Mother’s Day with Bruce. Knowing that Mother’s Day was always a struggle for me, Bruce always made sure it was a day where I felt loved. (Although, to his credit, he made me feel loved every day.)

On this Mother’s Day, Bruce had made his delicious biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast since it was my favorite. Afterward, he said he had a plan for the morning, but it was a surprise. All he would tell me was to wear jeans and my tennis shoes. No matter how much I begged, he wasn’t telling me anything more. Every answer came with a grin and was the same – “It’s a surprise.”

The surprise ended up being a series of trails along a lake that was less than a mile from our house. It was so beautiful and peaceful. Being spring, the flowers were just starting to bloom. There were swans in the lake, along with several beaver damns. Being Mother’s Day morning, there didn’t seem to be another soul around. It was just the two of us, and it felt like heaven.

We walked and talked for hours. Bruce shared how this was the space where he felt closest to God, not in a man-made building but out in nature. I couldn’t agree more. It was a beautiful day… and one we repeated often over the years. This space became one of our favorite places to spend a Sunday morning.

So today as I walked along the seemingly endless, meandering trails, I could almost feel Bruce right there next to me. I can’t even begin to explain the joy and comfort I felt. Even now, as I write this, I can close my eyes and remember… I can feel my hand in his… I can hear his voice telling me that he wanted to spend the rest of his days… with me… like this… together…

Me too, Babe… me too…
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Grief and Anger

This week I started watching the series Breaking Bad on Netflix. (So far, despite the violence, I have found it quite interesting.) In the episode I watched last night, the family is having a meeting to try to convince the main character to pursue radical, “live saving” medical treatment, which he is not inclined to do.

As I sat there watching, I found myself understanding both sides of the argument. I have been the person with cancer, and I have been the family of someone who decided not to pursue that “lifesaving” treatment. It was weird, because suddenly I was feeling the emotions from both sides… and that was quite contradictory.

Let me back up quite a bit to explain…

Well before Bruce and I ever left MI, he had watched both his mother and his sister go through the ravages of cancer treatments. It was heartbreaking to watch the tears form in his eyes whenever he spoke about it. I even remember one conversation where we both stated that we weren’t so sure either of us would do that… Was it worth it? … The life-style changes? The health issues that follow because of that “lifesaving” treatment? Was the goal to truly live your life or to simply breathe and survive?

(Here, I need to state that both of these women have left me in awe… Both underwent very radical treatments and have gone forward to live their lives with more gusto and fullness than I could ever imagine even on my healthiest of days.)

Now fast-forward to our move to Florida. Bruce had been laid-off for quite a while. Now, whether it was inactivity or the lack of a work distraction, he started noticing some health issues and made a doctor’s appointment. Since Bruce was not one to go to the doctor unless he absolutely had to, this caught my attention. I knew if he was that concerned about what he was feeling, I needed to be concerned too.

The day of his appointment came and went. A week or two later, he returned to discuss all the test results… This is where it got weird…

That evening at dinner, I asked Bruce how the appointment had gone. (Knowing how private Bruce was, I knew I needed to ask in an indirect way… Still, he had shared some of his concerns, so I felt it was okay to at least inquire.)

“Fine,” he said, never looking me in the eye. “She told me to just keep doing what I’m doing.”

“No way,” I responded, knowing that he was not the picture of healthy living at that time. “You’re lying.”

“No, I swear,” he answered, finally looking at me. “She told me to just keep doing what I’m doing.”

“So, everything is fine?”

“I guess so.”

For years, I have gone through this conversation in my head over and over. I will bet the conversation was more than likely one of… “If you aren’t going to do __________, then just keep doing what you’re doing.” I say this because so many things suddenly started happening.

For example, after more than a year of stalling, suddenly Bruce was on a mission to buy a house – someplace where “the mortgage could be managed easily on one salary”. (I can’t tell you how many times I heard that.) After we found that home, his next mission was to double his life insurance policy. There were also little hints, such as the sudden appearance of a stack of “important papers” on the kitchen counter by a man who believed in putting everything where it belonged – no stacks of papers anywhere.

But I never clued in…

Then, he died, and suddenly all these little things seemed liked clues that he knew what was coming. That new life insurance policy? … The new policy paperwork arrived for his final signature two days after he passed away. That stack of papers on the counter? … Every document I could possibly need after he died was in that stack… And list just seems to go on – so many things that suddenly made sense in the light of his death.

Much later, while packing away his things, I came across paperwork for some test on his heart… Tests dated five months prior to his death. Tests, that according to his doctor, he never completed… I couldn’t help but believe that he didn’t do them because he already knew what they would say… And it wasn’t good.

I won’t lie… I was angry… I was very angry. All I could think about was that I would do anything to be with Bruce… Why didn’t he? … It hurt so bad…

Now fast-forward about five years, and suddenly I am diagnosed with cancer… Suddenly, I am the one in the hot seat with choices to make. Initially, I decided I was not going to do the chemo/radiation thing. Then, after some research, I decided I was going to go full in – double mastectomy… take it all so I don’t have to ever worry about it again. Yet, after more research and more discussions with my healthcare team and my family, I decided to go less radical with a lumpectomy, then the chemo, radiation, and follow-up meds, as recommended.

The bottom-line, though, was… it was my choice. I did what I felt was right for me in that time and space. No, it was not anything I thought I would do years prior when Bruce and I had talked in our little MI kitchen. Nor was it what I thought I would do when first diagnosed. Instead, it was an evolution of thought that occurred over time and in the context of my life.

But it was my decision… my choice… And ever since that day, I have found myself with a very strong opinion about others (including the government) trying to make medical decisions for others. Our health is personal. Our lives are all different, with each having its own unique set of challenges and experiences.

Suddenly, I understood… Finally, I wasn’t so angry at Bruce anymore… He had made his decision. He felt that he was doing the right thing in that time and in that space… And while he chose not to share his burden with anyone, he was doing all he could to make the burden of his death a little bit easier for those of us left behind, (especially me).

As I watched the show last night and listened to each character speak about how they felt, I understood all of them… Every heartfelt statement made sense. Yet, my biggest support was for the main character, as he listened and weighed what each had to say before he explained his own thoughts and feelings on the matter.

In my heart, I was shouting, “Okay… y’all have had your say for him to consider. Now let it go… It is his choice, not yours. Like almost everything else our lives, accept that ultimately it is his choice, and learn to all be at peace with that.”

And that is where my heart is today… As I said, I lost that anger years ago when I suddenly found myself making decisions about “radical, lifesaving” healthcare. Granted, I made a different decision… that time. But who knows what my choice will be if confronted again?

Why? Because these decisions aren’t black and white… There are a lot of things to be considered. In my heart, I don’t believe that Bruce wanted to die. I do believe that he weighed the facts as he knew them and made the decision that he felt was best… I don’t like him being dead, but I respect his decision… I still grieve his death, but I am no longer angry. Instead, I am at peace knowing that he did what he felt was best… And that feels so much better in my heart.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Mindfulness

Note: I apologize for missing last week. I was on vacation with my son and just wanted to stay focused on our time together.

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For anyone who has been reading about my journey over the years, you know that this has been a long road for me. While my grief has been centered on the loss of Bruce, part of what has made this struggle so hard was that I never learned how to grieve in the first place. The few times in my life where I did experience loss, it was presented to me in the form of what I would call toxic religion. (Just sayin’.) With each loss, it was presented as a “celebration” because that person was “in a better place.” Tears and grief were placed in a category of non-faith… They were paramount to sin and were to be stifled…

But when Bruce died, I couldn’t do that anymore… The pain was too deep… At the same time, I couldn’t even begin to process my grief over the loss of Bruce until I went back and learned to process all the other losses from my past… I guess it is no secret that this has taken me a little while.

It is like the pendulum swung completely the other way… I went from not knowing how to grieve to not knowing how to stop grieving. I knew I needed help… No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite figure it all out on my own. I needed help…

It has not been a secret that over the past few years I have been working hard in therapy… It started as a recognition of things within myself that I wanted to change, and has become a whole lot more… The biggest piece being the work we have done around PTSD and the different traumatic events that have kept me stuck emotionally.

I am learning that…

I am enough… I really do have control… I am strong and my strength comes from the Divine within; all I have to do is be still and connect to the truth.

In other words, it is about being mindful… About finding the wonder and awe within the present moment. It is about remembering those precious memories from the past, but not remaining so focused on them that I miss what is happening right in front of me. It is about finding the love in each moment and each person on my path.

Yes, I still miss Bruce. Yes, I would give my soul to have him back. Yet, I also know that he is gone… No amount of wishing is going to bring him back. I can relive those precious memories a million times in my head, but that is never going to change the fact that they are still only memories… No more.

I have also come to realize that if I am here, there must be a reason… and that reason must be for a greater purpose than grief. So… more and more I am working to stay present in the moment… To feel the love of those who choose to be in my life… To find the joy there and to create even more precious memories…

This is where life happens… And after all we have been through, we know how precious each moment here truly is…

“Mindfulness Is paying attention on purpose, in the present moment, nonjudgmentally. It’s seeing things as they are not as we prefer them to be.” ~ Nelson, Ronka, and Lang, Designing & Leading Life-Changing Workshops
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Happy Birthday, Babe

I started a new job several weeks ago. I love it… absolutely love it. At t the same time, this company is growing fast and so life has gotten very, very busy (in a good way). With that said, for the entire month of April, I have been running about a day behind, not weekdays but dates. So, while I know Bruce’s birthday is on the 13th, in my head, that was going to be Sunday… today.

All week, I have figured that was good. I could work like crazy all week, get emotionally prepared on Saturday, and spend Sunday celebrating Bruce by the water. I figured a day of prep would be enough time. I have spent this year working hard in therapy. I had already made a tentative plan, so that piece of the puzzle was squared away… and where in the past, I would have been dreading this day for weeks, this year I felt like I was going to be okay with just a day to get my feelings sorted.

However, after work on Friday, I went outside to do some porch sittin’. One of the first things I did was to open up Face Book to catch up with the rest of the world. Per normal, one of the first things I saw when I opened the app, were my memories… Year after year after year of my asking for prayers and support “for Bruce’s birthday tomorrow”.

“Wait! What?? Tomorrow??”

“No… that’s impossible. His birthday is Sunday not tomorrow… not Saturday.” For the first time all week, I looked at my home screen and actually paid attention to the day and date on my phone… Friday, April 12.

Oh, geez… tomorrow… It really is tomorrow. What a terrible wife… widow I am. Now my plans are all for the wrong day. Now I only have a few hours to get my head together and my emotions in check… I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it. I look at my son who had been sitting across from me watching my panic play out.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I got you. What do you need?” … And he did… He stayed with me… listened to me sort through some stuff… reminded me of my own strength when appropriate… gave me space when I needed… and celebrated with me all day on Saturday, making sure I got to do all the things I had planned for Sunday… and never once did he make me feel like it was an imposition…

Instead, it was a beautiful day spent by the water celebrating a man who changed our lives and enjoying the present moment in our own relationship…

And… as I do every year, I wrote a letter to Bruce to wish him a Happy Birthday and to thank him for being the wonderful man I will always love…

Hey Babe,
I can’t believe tomorrow is your birthday. I just want to cry. I miss you so much every single day. I don’t think I will ever understand why… Why did you have to go? I spent so many years with a man who couldn’t love me or our children. Then, like a miracle, you appeared out of nowhere… and loved all of us… no conditions… just love. What a blessing! How did you do that?
Thank you! Thank you for being the man you are. Thank you for showing us what love… real love… truly is.
Midnight has come and gone… Happy birthday! As long as I breathe, I will never stop celebrating your life.
I sit here, and I just don’t understand… Why? In so many ways, your death has killed me too. Did you know that?
I want to make you proud. (I know I shouldn’t care, but I do.)
I want to live a good life… like really live it.
Yet, all I can think about is that you aren’t here…
To laugh…
To cry…
To watch the sunrise or sunset…
I just don’t understand.
All I do know is that I love you… And that isn’t changing… Happy Birthday!

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Reminders of Life

I had lost a few people I loved before Bruce. I had experienced the loss of all my grandparents, a great Aunt, and a child. Except my child, most were what we would consider “normal” in the cycle of life. The thing was, I never really grieved them. No one walked me through it… In fact, no one even gave me permission to grieve them.

The message that I received from my parents and their faith was that I should rejoice that my loved ones were “in a better place” and “it was a blessing”. I can’t tell you how I felt about it, because honestly, I didn’t question it at the time… with the exception of the loss of my child. That one was a struggle for years… To be told that one’s emotions and sadness are somehow wrong or bad is awful, and I resented not being allowed to grieve that loss.

It was also very unhealthy not to grieve those losses, as I learned when Bruce died… Suddenly all the hurt and pain of those other losses were felt all over again, only this time, I refused to be told how to feel or act. Within the first several months, I realized that I would have to process my feelings from the past losses before I could even begin to work through my grief for Bruce…. And so, I did… It was not quick, and it was not easy.

All of that grief felt so overwhelming… It felt like I couldn’t even breathe just thinking about all of it. I wanted the world to stop… just for a little while until I could catch up to it… But we all know that doesn’t happen. No matter how badly we are hurting the world continues on… Life goes on.

(Now a days, I find myself looking at the people passing me by, and I wonder how many of them are dealing with deep hurt in that very moment… And what can I do to help? Say hello? Offer a smile? A kind nod or gesture?)

I struggled for a long time to move forward… I couldn’t seem to find my footing on a path that I didn’t want to be on in the first place. There were so many days that first year where simply breathing felt like a miracle… and getting out of the bed and going about my day… Those were even bigger miracles!

Oh my gosh!! And all the emotions that go with grief! No one warns you about that. I had no idea that my own emotions could flip around so much in the course of one ordinary day… but they did. In fact, one of the hardest things to overcome was my own judgmental reactions to myself. For example, during that first year or two, if I smiled or laughed, my immediate reaction to myself was to shut it down… fast! How dare I find any joy in this world when Bruce was no longer here to feel joy. I would start to smile only to remind myself that Bruce no longer had the chance to smile… Knowing that, how could I even think of smiling?

All of that may sound crazy, but it was how I felt… I was so caught up in what he could no longer do, that I forgot… (or wouldn’t allow myself) to live my own life… The one still in front of me… The one with promise and hope… Although, that promise and hope seemed invisible at the time.

I found it hard to enjoy the flowers as they blossomed that first spring remembering how much Bruce looked forward to that whole season. After so many years of Michigan winters, spring always brought a smile to his face that lasted the entire season.

While singing had always been a huge part of who I was as a person, suddenly, I couldn’t do it. Music had always held so much joy for me, but without Bruce, joy only brought guilt… and I literally couldn’t bring myself to sing for years.

Why am I telling you this now? … Because in the last few years, I am finally learning to enjoy life again – without the guilt from before. With lots of love and patience from friends and family, I am finally able to drop all the self-chastisement and “give myself permission”, if you will, to not only live again, but to actually enjoy the process… To look for the little things that bring me joy and to say thank you to the Divine for each and every one…

And with spring finally here again, I can look at all the beautiful reminders of life and know – truly know deep in my heart – that life is still beautiful and wonderful… and something to be treasured as I truly and completely live each moment I am given.

“When my own mama died, I spent a lot of time on the beach staring at the water until I learned what I was supposed to. And I did. I finally figured out that when the waves come ashore and wipe away all the footprints, it’s like God telling you that starting again is part of life.”
~ Karen White, The Sound of Glass

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – Time is Precious

As I write this, the Christian community is contemplating Good Friday. The day Jesus was crucified. The day Jesus died. The day those who loved him, those who called him “Teacher” and “Rabbi” witnessed his horrific death. The day his own mother watched him die a tortuous death.

According to the Christian tradition, that isn’t the end of the story, though. According to the Christian faith, Easter happened a few days later… According to those beliefs, Jesus didn’t stay dead… He rose again and lives still.

While I know that is what today (the day you are reading this) is about, that isn’t the part I want to focus on. I want to go back to that Friday… That death… That pain that all those who loved Jesus must have felt. They had no idea what was coming. All they knew was that this person… This man… Their friend… Her son… was dead… gone. Also, keep in mind, according to tradition, the sky went dark when Jesus died, because even God felt all the emotions of grief, including anger.

Today, I wonder if all those grieving people felt the same way so many of us do when we are grieving… That feeling of “I can’t believe they are gone”. I wonder if they said the same thing we all tell ourselves afterward… Time is so precious. I wonder if they second guessed those last days, weeks, or months like we tend to do… Did I spend my time with them wisely?… Do I have any regrets?… Is there anything I would have done different if I were given the chance to do even one day over again?

… I wonder if that is our connection in that story…

I have written that phrase so many times, both here and in my journal… “Time is precious.” I don’t really have any regrets about Bruce and my time together. That is probably because I think of regrets as things that are more negative like time spent fighting or being angry. That didn’t happen. As I wrote last week, our last week together was so incredibly normal. Yet, there are things I would have done different, if I had known that was his last week… month… or year…

I would have taken more vacation days and spent them with him. I would have gone with him that last Thursday to watch the sunrise on the beach. I would have spent more time listening… I mean really listening to what he said and what he didn’t say. I probably would have asked a million questions trying to get to know every last part of him before it was too late. I would have cried… a lot. I would have held him longer and kissed him at every opportunity…

But I didn’t know, and I didn’t do any of those things… Why?

I think that is because living your life like that would be kind of weird… That really isn’t how any of us live our lives. We love those around us, and we appreciate all that they add to our lives. At the same time, we each live the life we were called to live. We don’t drop everything in our world to focus on someone else (or at least we shouldn’t) because that isn’t healthy.

Yet, I still say it, and I still believe it… Time is precious.

So how do we live like we mean that?

I have spent the last decade since Bruce died, trying to make good use of my time. Learning how to be me and all that might entail… Figuring out my faith… Learning to accept and love myself… Learning to simply “Be” … Trying to be present in each moment… Trying to maintain relationships that are loving and healthy… Learning to forgive and let go, while still maintaining boundaries that allow me to live a healthy life… Not forcing relationships, but leaving the door cracked, just in case… Remembering that to be present in each moment includes feeling whatever is there, whether I am loving, laughing, crying, or discovering.

Do I always get it right? Of course not! However, that pursuit is what life is all about – figuring out all of these things that make us who we are is exactly what allows us to love the world and all that is in it. It is what allows me to see the divine in each and every person and connect with them at that point… even when we are getting everything else terribly wrong. It is what allows me to get up each and every morning and start again – fresh. It is why I call my aging parents every week, as well as my family that is so far away. It is why I don’t give up on those relationships that are currently upside-down or the ones that seem hopelessly lost.

The death and resurrection of Jesus gives us hope… It shows us how to connect to the Christ within all of us. The death of Bruce showed me that time really is precious. At the same time, it isn’t about trying to spend every minute with every person – I can’t… That isn’t realistic. Instead, for me, it is about living my purpose in each moment and touching those lives that want to be a part of mine… It is about creating those precious memories filled with love, because we know that tomorrow just might be too late… So, I will need to do the best that I can with this moment and this day… No pressure to do anything more… or anything less.

For me, I do believe that one day I will see Bruce again… I believe that one day he and I will celebrate our Easter… Our resurrection and transformation… Until that time comes, though, I have promised myself that I will do all I can to live each and every moment knowing how precious our time here truly is.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.