love – Page 3 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Permission

This week, while talking to Bruce’s parents, the conversation (naturally) moved to Bruce and all that entails – how much we love him and how much we miss him… And for me, I always thank them for gift of this wonderful man they raised to be so kind and loving. As we talked, the tears were streaming down my face, and there were moments when none of us could even form words – so thick was our shared grief.

For me, it didn’t stop there. I was still crying as I crawled into bed. And before turning out the lights, I whispered to Bruce, “I still miss you, Babe… I still love you… I don’t know how to stop.”

When I woke up the next morning, I was better, but I found myself thinking about something that I have read many times. There is a notion making the rounds that for people who are grieving, it can be hard to let the grief go, because our grief often feels like one of the last connections we have to our loved ones. That is quite the statement, (feels a bit judgy) and I’m not sure how I feel about that… I can’t say it is completely wrong, but I don’t know that it is completely right either.

For me, if I am honest with myself, I suppose there is some truth to this statement. I don’t know how to not grieve the loss of Bruce. Over the years, I have learned how to compartmentalize it and put it aside as needed… At least, most of the time. However, it isn’t quite as simple as the statement above…

It isn’t a matter of being my “last connection” to Bruce, although in many ways, I guess it is the way I connect to him… But it is a little bit different than that. You see, it isn’t that I refuse to let go… It is more about the triggers that occur when I think about him or want to share something with him or when I hear “our song” or any other number of things… Then the tears start and my heart shatters all over again. Then, if I let myself think about this particular logic, there is added guilty for my emotions, and I question what is behind my grief.

That’s not fair and it isn’t helpful.

We all have permission to fall apart sometimes (as needed) … No guilt… No judgement… No need to analyze the “why” unless we want to – no one else. It isn’t their place (period).

Here is the part I hope each of us remembers when these waves of grief hit us…
• Falling apart is allowed.
• Grief is hard.
• To survive grief, we are warriors – fierce and strong.

Don’t ever let anyone else tell you otherwise, and do not give them the power to tell you how and/or when to grieve… This is your journey – not theirs. Keep doing whatever it is that you need to do in those moments. That is how we heal… That is how we continue to live.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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… 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 – The Language of the Heart

“Our feelings are our heart’s internal wisdom speaking to us. Emotions help us by giving voice to what we need and giving us strength and resolve to take appropriate action through this morass of illness, decision-making, and loss.”
~ Rev. Patricia Gulino Lansky, What to Expect When You’re Grieving

We all know that our emotions can be up one moment and down the next. Many of us are taught early on that we need to “control” our emotions… reign them in… We need to be sure that we are in control of our emotions and not the other way around.

I can’t say that I totally disagree with that… I also can’t say that I totally agree either. I think it is more of a balance vs control. For example, if we try to control our emotions to the point where we no longer feel them, that is called repression… and it is unhealthy. At the same time, if we allow our emotions to completely take over our thought processes with no regard to how our actions might affect others, that can become dangerous and is also unhealthy.

Good or bad, it’s important to realize that our emotions are like a window into our soul… They are a way to understand how we are currently experiencing the world around us. It is important to acknowledge how we are feeling and process those emotions before we act.

The night Bruce died, I think my mind realized the pain that was coming and shut down, in a way, so that I was running on instinct… and nothing more. I remember every moment of that night. When I first started to arouse, I thought he was snoring weird or having a nightmare, so I nudged him a few times. There was no panic yet… no real emotion. I just wanted to go back to sleep.

It was only seconds later when I realized that this was much more serious. When I called 911, the operator asked me if he was breathing… Honestly, I wasn’t sure. His breathing was so ragged… He would take a quick breath, then, just as I thought that was it, he would let it out and take another. “Yes… no… yes… it’s not normal. He is struggling,” I remember saying.

The operator walked me through all the things I needed to do for the EMS crew to get in and for me to start CPR. Once again, they asked if Bruce was breathing. “Yes,” I answered as he exhaled… I waited for the inhale which I knew would be slow to come… but it never came… And my heart broke as I started CPR.

I didn’t cry though… not yet. It was as if my mind knew there was too much at stake to start that now… There was work to do… Surely, he would come out of this… Surely, he would be okay.

When the EMS crew arrived, they took over. I moved to the corner and watched… still no tears. I watched them load him on a gurney as I answered questions about his medications and if I wanted a ride to the hospital. I was rational enough to answer all the questions, grab his medications from the cabinet, climb into the police cruiser, fasten my seat belt, and make the first call…

“Momma,” I managed to whisper, “We’re on our way to the hospital… I think Bruce is… dead. Can you come?”

(And breathe…) Even writing this sends me back to that night… every light, every smell, all of it. I know I cried once the doctors confirmed what I already knew… I don’t remember the tears, but I remember going through tissues after tissue. I remember wanting to world to just stop for a minute so that I could catch up to what was happening… It was too much too fast… This couldn’t be real, could it?

I firmly believe my mind went into overdrive to protect me from all of the emotions that would come later. For the first several days, all I could do was just sit and stare into nothingness. The shock of what was happening was more than my mind could comprehend. I am so thankful for Bruce’s and my family who came and sat with me… helping through those first few days… reminding me (and making a list) of all the things I would need to do to take care of the business of death.

That was over 12 years ago… Since then, I have felt a lot of emotions in connection to the grief I have felt for Bruce’s death. Throughout that time, there have people who thought I should have “gotten over it” faster than I did. That’s okay… I have managed it in my own time.

Here’s the thing… with great love comes great loss and great grief. And grief of this magnitude was not anything I had ever experienced before. It was a path I knew nothing about. At the same time, I learned to be brutely honest about those emotions… the window to my soul and all that was in turmoil in there.

Those emotions allowed me to “give voice” to my grief – in my journal, my poetry, my painting, and this blog. While my mind closed that mind at the beginning, once I learned how to open that window, there was no turning back… I had to learn how to speak that language of my heart or I would not have survived.

Allowing myself to feel and process those emotions through the years has taken a long time, and I know it will likely be a lifelong journey in some way. I also know that it was as important to my psyche as breathing is to my body.

This process of working with and through our emotions… grief in this instance – are how we find healing, balance, and wholeness. It is how we are able to walk past what we knew and enter into what is and will be…
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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 Part That Makes My Heart Hurt

Back in May, I attended a week-long spiritual academy. While it was my 2nd time attending this particular retreat, it was the first time since Covid shut us all down in 2020, and boy-o-boy, was I ready. I am pretty sure I wrote about it when I came back because the ideas and spiritual challenges that occur there are like balm for my soul.

During the week, the speakers brought up a theory on life which says that life goes in cycles of Orientation, Disorientation, and New Orientation. Truthfully, I have heard this before from other authors I have read, but there was something about hearing it, discussing it, and writing about it that brought it to life and made it real for me.

Just like all of us, I have gone through this cycle so many times in this lifetime… And that week in May brought a lot of those memories, emotions, and feelings of despair back to the surface. However, it also provided a framework that helps me to understand the healing and positive change that also emerges from the ashes – kind of like the legendary phoenix.

Today, as I was contemplating all of this, I found myself grateful to currently be in an Orientation phase. At the same time, there are several people I know and love that are smack dab in the middle of the Disorientation phase… And I know just how hard and lonely that spot can feel.

Here’s the thing, though, sometimes, our Orientation, while it is our current ‘normal’ isn’t always a good space. It is simply a space we are accustomed to – like choosing to stick with the elephant in the room rather than risk the one unknown.

I know that for me, that is exactly where I was right before I left my first marriage. As I have said before, things were bad – physically, emotionally, financially… and the list goes on. (I’m sure you get the picture.) I had been raised to stick with it – see my commitment through… Pray more, love more, be more. Yet, no matter how much I prayed… or loved… or tried to be the “perfect wife”, it was an impossible goal. No matter what I (or the kids) did the bar was always moving according to his momentary whims.

For a long time, I thought I was protecting my children and doing the right thing by staying… until I just couldn’t do it any more… And we left. It took 3 years for things to be finalized, and just as attorneys will warn you, things escalated and got significantly worse during that time. Most days, the ‘Disorientation’ of those years felt like more than I could bear. Every time I felt like I could catch my breath, the rug was pulled back out from under me again.

Truly, if it weren’t for the love I have for my kids and my determination to (finally) get them out of that situation, I don’t know if I would have survived it… In other words, if it had only been about me, I don’t know that I would have made it through. But we did…

Then, by the grace of God, Bruce (literally) sailed into our lives and opened the door to a world we had never experienced before. For me, the love he offered was something I had never been experienced before… Here was this giant of a man, who was gentle and caring. He encouraged me to simply be me – not some version of me that he expected.

It was a New Orientation that I couldn’t have ever imagined.

Growing up in the deep south and under religious theology that said I was ‘less than’ simply because I am a woman, I had never known a relationship that offered me such autonomy… I kept my own name. I had my own bank account. We did our own laundry, bought our own groceries, and cooked our own meals. We were two healthy, individuals who shared a home filled with love and respect for each other as humans… with neither of us trying to hold power over the other one.

This kind of love and respect led to deep heartfelt discussions, intense emotional bonding and caring, and a friendship so strong that I had never experienced anything like it. For the first time in my life, I was loved and encouraged to just be me… all of me… even when it was uncomfortable and hard. That is the unconditional love I had always heard about, but at the time (as a 40+ year old woman), I didn’t think such a thing existed.

Then, a few short years later, I woke up in the middle of the night to find Bruce struggling to breathe. It felt like hours, but it was only seconds, before I called 911 and started CPR. The EMTs arrived within minutes and took over… But, as I watched in shock, that line on the machine never moved… He was gone…

And my world fell apart. This Disorientation was stronger and deeper than anything I had ever experienced… It felt like a bottomless pit, and the downward fall was endless.

That first year or two is still a blur. Not just the shock of that night and the reality of his death, but the way my entire world suddenly stopped and changed directions was more than I could handle. In the middle of all that pain and with no place to turn, I quickly returned to that old mindset of “not enough” … And I stayed there for a long time.

This New Orientation was not a good one, and I couldn’t see an end to the pain. I began to think that this was how it would always be going forward.

This part of my journey was where I struggled then… and where I still have some struggles now. This is the stuff that, to this day, still makes my heart hurt. At the same time, I have learned through the past few years that I can either let myself get stuck there, and let it this be my Orientation… Or I can remember what we had together… What he offered me in terms of unconditional love… Then, with those memories held tight, I can pick up the pieces of my heart and pull myself back together.

Bruce showed me that I am stronger than I was ever taught to believe. Being “me” is a good thing… a healthy thing… and something I should never sacrifice to please someone else. He also showed me how to offer that same kind of love to those around me… Not the kind that says ‘yes’ to everything and everyone whether or not I should. Instead, he showed me the kind of love that says ‘yes’ or ‘no’ out of respect to all and in accordance to my own values. In other words, the kind of love that allows me to consider my own self-respect… my own boundaries before I respond – truthfully and honestly.

So… time has passed and that New Orientation has simply become my current Orientation. I still hate that Bruce is gone… That part makes my heart hurt… However, that is just a part of this space.

Will there be more Disorientation in my future? Of course… That is just the way life is.

The difference now, though, is in my grounding… My understanding of who I am and standing strong in that knowledge. I will always be eternally grateful to Bruce for his legacy of unconditional love and respect that he shared with me. Because of him, I am able to hold my head up… and smile… and love… while also believing that he is probably kind of proud of who I am becoming… because of him.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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 – Where We Focus

Last week, I talked about how the ‘missing’ part of grief seems to remain. I stated that I wondered if it ever goes away, because I know I still feel it… Granted, it isn’t the debilitating, overwhelming emotion that it was in the beginning. Still, it is there… and it is just as real as ever.

So, as I journaled this week, I found myself pondering that very notion… Does the sadness – the missing ever stop? I don’t think so. I do, however, think it gets manageable, (for lack of a better word).

I think part of my quandary stems from something that I heard so often in the beginning… “It will get better with time.” While there is a certain amount of truth to that, it really doesn’t help as much as people may think. (At least, not for me.)

Here’s the thing… We live in a world of instant _____. Fill in the blank with pretty much anything. Let’s be real – we don’t really have to wait for very much these days. Almost everything can be attained instantly.

Can you imagine placing an order with Amazon and being told, “It will be there ‘in time’.” Or trying to purchase a plane ticket, but instead of listing arrival times, it just states that the plane will arrive ‘in time’. Or you get a new job, but when you ask about your start date, they reply with, “You will start ‘in time’.”

That all sounds kind of ridiculous, doesn’t it? Which is exactly how the “things will get better in time” hit me back then. There is no direction in that statement… No “how-to”. While it does offer a smidge of hope, there is no specific date to look for in the future when it might not hurt so badly. Just an abstract – “at some point in time it will feel better than it does right now.” (Gee… thanks… I would certainly hope so.)

Then this week, as I was trying to figure out what had changed in my world to make it “better”, something hit me. I believe that our thoughts create our experience. In other words, what I focus on will affect my emotions and, hence, my experience of life.

I also know that in the past few years, I have worked hard to focus more on the good times Bruce and I shared, instead of focusing on the night he died or the idea of facing my future without him. (That does not mean those things never cross mind. They absolutely do. However, as long as I am mindful of them, those thoughts are less frequent and less intense than they used to be.

For example, when “our song” plays on the radio, I used to cry thinking about how he will never again take me by the hand, (barefoot in the kitchen), and hold me close as we dance to that song. True, I still think about all the times he held me close, and we danced barefoot in the kitchen. However, I work hard to focus on that memory and how wonderful and precious it is… not how those times are over, (because that is precisely what leads me down into the muck).

In other words, I try to stay focused on the good times and love we shared, not the absence of those things. I work hard to hold onto how thankful I am that he walked into my life and loved me, not the fact that he is gone.

I don’t know if that makes sense, or if anyone can even relate to what I am saying. I am sure there are other experiences and ways of healing on this journey. This is just part of my experience… A conscious choice that I have to make each and every day… To focus on life – how precious it was with him and the warmth of those memories… and, also, how precious each moment is now because I get to spend it with those I love.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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 Beginning

Sometimes I find myself going back to my old journals and reading from those first years after Bruce passed… It may seem odd, but sometimes it is a good reminder of where I was and how far I have traveled emotionally to get where I am now.

As I was reading through that first journal this weekend, it dawned on me that during the first few months after Bruce died, I was constantly bouncing back and forth between “I miss you” and “why did you leave me”. In a lot of ways, these still seem to be the big emotional conundrums going through my head when I am having a rough day.

I guess, I have heard enough near-death stories that ended with “I was given a choice, so I came back” or “I was told my time wasn’t up, so I was sent back”. If those stories are true… if that choice is real… then the pain in thinking that Bruce made a choice to die rather than come back is more than I can bear. In the beginning, those thoughts would send me over the edge where I would struggle for days or even weeks.

Mar 14, 2013
“Today was a good day but tonight is hard. It’s a different hard, though. Tonight is more ‘I miss you’ than ‘why did you leave’… (Still, some of both but more ‘I miss you’.) I will always be thankful for every minute we had together, (even when you made me crazy, LOL), but I’ll never understand why our time had to be so short. I still love you so much!! There are so many moments when this doesn’t feel real. I can picture you here… I can almost feel your arms around me… Then, reality hits and so do the tears. I am so lonely without you… It’s you I long for every moment of every day… What am I supposed to do with that?”

Mar 16, 2013
“I miss you, Babe. Nine weeks… so long – the longest we have ever been apart – ever! I miss you so much… I love you… It’s odd how that part doesn’t stop. I think that is what grief really is – the person is gone (dead to be exact) but the love is still there. It’s like your body had a switch, but the emotions that tie us together do not. They are still here in my heart with nowhere to go.”

It’s funny… I read these entries and realized that the emotions are all actually still there… still the same…

These passages were written only three months after Bruce died, and admittedly, this is still where my heart is. I guess, I have learned to steer away from the “why did you leave me” stuff, because it hurts too much… Although, honestly, the “I miss you” stuff is hard enough.

I think time has allowed me to find better times and ways to express my grief than I did in the beginning. I like to think that I have learned how to manage it vs letting the grief manage me… But I can’t help but wonder if the missing part ever gets any better… He is still the one I want to run to and share the good things in my life. His arms are still what I crave when life is challenging.

I don’t know… I am currently 12+ years on this journey, and I would still give anything to have him back, if even for only a day… to see his smile and hear his voice one more time would be more amazing to me than anything else I could imagine.

I guess, “they” are right when they say that grief is just love with no place to go.

We trust that beyond absence there is a presence.
That beyond the pain there can be healing.
That beyond the brokenness there can be wholeness.
That beyond the anger there may be peace.
That beyond the hurting there may be forgiveness.
That beyond the silence there may be the word.
That beyond the word there may be understanding.
That through understanding there is love.
~ Author Unknown

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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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 – Acceptance

“I live in acceptance, serenity, and peace.”
~ unity.org, Strength, Courage, and Comfort for Difficult Times

I remember when I read this quote a couple of years ago. At the time, all I could do was to ponder and question if I was ‘there’ yet, (or even close). Now, I know that there are days when this is true… and there are still days when it is a struggle… especially the ‘acceptance’ part.

This all came back to me this week when I found a small picture of Bruce tucked into an envelope long forgotten. I love the look on his face – it is one I knew all too well. It was taken at the point where there is only the hint of a smile… as if he knows something the picture taker does not – a fun and exciting secret that he isn’t quite ready to share yet.

I adore that look! It brings back so many precious memories… It also breaks my heart when reality floods back and I remember that he is gone… when I realize that I will only ever see that look in pictures now. I guess that is why this quote came back to my mind.

I remember when Bruce died and so many people kept talking about how I needed to accept this “new reality” – easier said than done, I assure you. However, over time I have learned to settle into a kind of peace that allows for some amount of acceptance – more on some days and less on others… But acceptance all the same. (Baby steps are still progress, right?)

“The word ‘accept’ is especially important because it means to let go and trust. Acceptance teaches me to have faith that God is in every situation, and the outcome will be right for all involved.”
~ unity.org, Strength, Courage, and Comfort for Difficult Times

I think it is that “let go and trust” part that I have struggled with the most.

In the beginning, I was so angry with a God that would allow this much pain… a God that would let me feel completely loved one moment and snatch it away the next. How does one trust that kind of God?

I don’t know. I still don’t have a solid answer for that.

I do know this, though… When I felt utterly alone and abandoned, I could feel the love and comfort of Spirit. When I was angry – screaming and cursing at God for allowing this to happen, I could still feel his loving arms around me like a screaming toddler feels the loving arms of an understanding parent. And when I wanted to give up and quit, I could feel the gentle prodding of a loving Spirit that gave me the courage to keep going – one more moment… one more breath.

Through all of this, I am learning that the God I thought I knew is so much more… so much bigger than I was ever taught. God isn’t just all loving; she is all love. God isn’t just watching over all things; he is in all things… By the very act of creation, there is a Divine spark in all things… Yes, all things.

I can’t explain God, (and I don’t need to), because God is too big for that… and that is where my acceptance started. Once I realized that God didn’t need to be defined or made small enough to fit in a box that makes me comfortable, I also learned to accept that there are things in this world that I may never understand while I am here, such as the connection of love that continues even after death.

And I’m okay with that. Most days, that is where I am grounded and centered… That is where I find love and joy in this world… Simply put, that is where my acceptance and peace are found.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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 – It’s Not Just Me

“Our grief can feel like a very lonely journey, which in many ways, it is because it is specific to us and to the one we’ve lost. It is a customized but hidden wound.”
~ John Pavlovitz, Acknowledging Our Grief Anniversaries

Currently, I work for a specialty pharmacy. In case you’ve never heard of that, it is a pharmacy that dispenses drugs that you can’t pick up at your local CVS or Walgreens. These are drugs for things, such as transplants, HIV, HEP C or even cancer drugs, including chemo drugs. In our training program, we spend time talking about compassionate patient care as we assist them on this journey. We talk a lot about how their illness can affect their quality of life and how the very medications meant to help them can also alter their life and temperament in so many way – many unseen and often misunderstood.

I think in so many ways, grief is similar… In grief, we have this deep, deep wound that we don’t know how to fix, nor do the people around us. Over time, the wound becomes less and less visible to the outside world, while on the inside, we are still trying to figure things out. Our lives are affected in more ways than we can count. Yet, as time moves on, we are expected to smile because “that’s all in the past”, and we “should already gotten over that and moved on” …

But we can’t… Not completely anyway… Instead, what we really need is some compassion – not just from others, but compassion from ourselves to ourselves, as well…

I remember in the beginning feeling like I must be the only person on the planet to feel this way… to have this much grief and not know what to do with it. Deep down, I knew that wasn’t really true, but in my small circle it certainly felt that way. When I was out and about, it was hard to look at others and remember that everyone at some point loses someone they love.

I struggled to remember that while everyone’s grief is as individual as the relationship they shared with the person who died, grief itself really is a shared experience of all humankind – no matter your race, religion, gender, economic class, or nationality… No one gets a free pass. However, until I started this blog, I really did feel alone and isolated… like being adrift in a small boat with no paddles – just drifting wherever the current took me.

I tried a national grief support program at a local church, but it wasn’t what I needed at that point… I don’t know if it was too early in my journey or if it just wasn’t what my soul was seeking. I just know I stopped attending after many weeks, because I was feeling worse about the whole ordeal – not better. Then, I tried a life coach and later counseling, which I must admit, these two things did me the most good. At the same time, as y’all know, it has still been a long, continuous, (not straightforward) process.

Like the patients that utilize our pharmacy, I think I truly just needed someone to realize (and help me realize) that this loss would forever alter who I am… There would always be the “before Bruce died” me and the “after Bruce died” me… and I could never go back.

Sure, in most ways, I am still just me… But there will always be smaller, quieter ways where I am very different from who I was… The experience changed things in my soul that cannot be undone – they just are. My task on this journey has been one of learning how this “new me” could salvage as many of the good parts from the “old me” as possible, while at the same time using the lessons of grief to grow and be a little bit better each day than the day before.

I know the process isn’t over. In fact, each time I think it is, I find there is another lesson for me on this journey… Spaces where I want to break down and cry and scream all over again… Spaces where I want to feel the safety of his arms again… Spaces where I want to feel loved like that again… Those times each hold their own challenges… but so far, I have managed to work through each one and come out on the other side as a survivor – finding my footing and striving to stay present in the loving relationships around me.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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.

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 – In the Aftermath

Grief is a strange companion… It is hard. It is an unrelenting struggle…. And… If I am honest here, it has been an unexplainable way of connecting me to Bruce… Sometimes, it even feels like if I were to stop grieving, somehow it would mean I stopped loving him… Or is it really a situation where the only way to stop grieving would be to stop loving him?

I don’t know… maybe it is a bit of both.

All I know for sure is… I do still love him… I also know that the grief can be harder when I focus on him. I don’t know that my love for him or the grief I feel will ever dissipate. (Maybe I am scared to let it.) I just know that it seems to just be a permanent part of my heart… just like Bruce.

At the same time, grief isn’t the driving force in my life these days. It doesn’t define me like it did those first few years. I’m not sad all the time, nor do I cry 24/7. I have learned to enjoy this life… I treasure moments spent with those I love. I enjoy hanging out with my friends, and I love to laugh. I work passionately for causes I believe in, and I try not to get caught up in the negativity that so often can shadow our experiences.

Sure, I don’t always get it right, but that’s okay… I am my own on-going project, I suppose. (Then again, who isn’t?) However, I am learning to pause when the feeling of grief and sadness are strong. In that pause, I am learning to identify the feelings and the triggers. This, in turn, creates choices of how to respond and how to best take care of myself in that moment, which is so much healthier for me than the uncontrollable reactions that I experienced in the beginning.

As y’all know, it wasn’t always this way… This has been a long road for me. Yet, I know that my love of life was one of the things Bruce fell in love with all those years ago… I also know that because that loved that part of me, he wouldn’t want me to lose that… Instead, he would want me to lean into that… to use it for my strength when things feel hard, and to remember that life is meant to be enjoyed and treasured.

So perhaps, after all these years, I may have found a path that works… A path that allows me to still grieve and miss him, without letting that same grief determine who I am becoming in the aftermath of his death… Maybe, just maybe, this is becoming my way of honoring our love… even now.

“You are not what happened to you. In truth, you are what you decide to be in the aftermath of what hurt your heart.” ~ r. h. Sin, The Year of Letting Go, Sep 26

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Peace, Love, and Grief – Searching for Peace

I believe that I had to describe the grief journey in ten words or less, I would say, “It is a journey of constantly searching for peace.” At least, that has been my experience…

When my first marriage ended, even though I was the one to leave, I still grieved the loss of what I had hoped we could be as a family. Yet, I also remember writing that all I wanted was peace – no more yelling, no more violence, no more walking on eggshells. I was in a desperate search for some space to breathe. It took a long time, but I did finally find small spaces where I felt safe. Then, those spaces grew exponentially when I met Bruce. Sure, life was still doing what life does. Yet, I had found that peaceful space where I could breathe again… Where I wasn’t racing from one chaotic episode to the next. Then, Bruce died, and the search started again.

This is that story…

I prayed for peace.

I hadn’t known peace for most of my 40 years. I didn’t want a new love or money, grand things or lots of friends… Just a quiet space with a handful of people who love and accept me.

And so, I left… on a cool October morning, the kids and I left for school. They had no idea that we would not be returning… The upheaval… the increased violence… the threats… the fear… the unknowing… the desperation…

And… I prayed for peace.

Then, after years of waiting, it was finally over. It was done. I didn’t want the house or the money, a new town or a new relationship… Just a quiet space with my kids and a handful of people who would love and accept me as I am.

Then, into my life sailed this gentle, giant of a man… full of love… full of acceptance… full of peace. Suddenly, life was more beautiful than anything I had ever known. We knew safety and security… love – unconditional and complete… hope and joy filled our lives and laughter fill the air around us.

Finally… I had found the peace I had prayed for… And it looked nothing like I had imagined. Yet, it was everything I had ever wanted. I didn’t need to pray for peace anymore, because surely, we would live happily ever after. (Isn’t that how the story is supposed to go?)

Then, one Friday night, (one just like any other), we crawled into bed, and I lay in his arms. We whispered plans and concerns and “I love you’s” in the darkness until we both fell asleep.

I awoke.

Bruce didn’t.

I called for help. I did CPR… Nothing… No response. I had failed him, and he was gone… It was all gone… But this time, I couldn’t pray for peace… I couldn’t pray at all.

My world went dark… very dark… Surely God was just a cruel myth… I crumpled into a heap on the floor. I screamed and cursed at God. I pounded my fists and howled in pain until at last I lay there in silence – completely and utterly broken.

Still… I could not pray – not for peace… not for anything… not to a God who was so uncaring and cruel.

Years passed. I started to read what Bruce had read, and it was like hearing his voice over and over… “God is not the God you thought you knew. Be still and listen,” he seemed to whisper.

So, I was still… I listened… And that became my prayer – not one of asking… but one of receiving while letting go of what the final result would look like… And in the depths of my soul, a small light began to flicker… The blackness began to dissipate as I focused on that small light.

As time has passed, that light has gotten stronger and brighter… Laughter has returned. I have learned to smile again… to feel joy again… and hope has peeked at me from around the corner.

I still don’t pray for peace, (although that is my deepest desire) … This journey is not the one I would have ever chosen. Yet, through this journey I have learned to sit still and listen… And as life moves on, I am able to settle in and let the Divine currents carry me where they may.

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Peace, Love, and Grief – Growing with Grief

“The longer you stare into the abyss of the heartbreak, the more power you give it to dictate your life. The pain is not a destination or a home – it’s a teacher; it’s a lesson.”
~ r. h. Sin, The Year of Letting Go, Aug 1

Can we just be honest for a moment here? … Death, loss, grief – they put a spin on our lives in such a way that things will never feel the same again. I truly had no idea that this was true until Bruce died. While I had experienced loss before and it hurt, nothing prepared me for the loss of the other half of my soul. No one could have prepared me for this much pain and sorrow.

In the beginning, I truly thought that if I could just do all the “right” things, I would get over this hurt, and life would go on. Sure, I would miss him, but I would come out of this and be okay… I would be “me” again. I had no idea back then just how much his loss would change me and my whole world.

I think I just assumed that the verse from Psalm 23, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me,” (which I had memorized in childhood), meant that the pain would go away (quickly, of course)… God would make it all better.

Instead, I found that I had a lot of work to do in that valley, and often I felt alone and angry – very angry… especially at God. My faith was already in a state of questions and doubt when Bruce died, and this did not make that any better… I feared the future that lay ahead… I did not feel God anywhere nearby… and I most definitely did not feel comforted. (That verse only felt like a betrayal.)

I struggled a lot and for a long time… years, actually. Grief had such a firm grip on my life that it seemed to become the only way I knew how to function. I am well aware that I gave grief a lot of power in my life. In fact, I let it take me so deep into the abyss that I didn’t care if I ever came out of it. It just seemed to seep into every thought and emotion… every holiday and every dream.

I don’t know if I couldn’t shake it or if I simply didn’t want to… and honestly, I’m not sure that there was a difference or if I even cared. Life without Bruce just seemed to be colored black… Everything seemed to be colored black.

But… as much as Bruce was my reason for grieving, he also became my guide for healing.

I started remembering things he had shared – spiritual things – quotes, thoughts, ideas… And soon I found myself immersed in the sources of those quotes, thoughts, and ideas… It wasn’t long before I started putting those things together – deconstructing and reconstructing my faith… finding a path that has led me to a real connection with Spirit – something I have never experienced before… (I hate to admit it, but sometimes I’m not sure I would have found this connection without the intense grief of losing Bruce.)

So, here I am – over a decade has passed. I still grieve… I still feel sad… And I still wish Bruce were here. However, all of that is quite different than it was in the beginning… Certainly, it has taken on a different shape, as I have learned how to acknowledge it and grow from it without giving it full control.

Now-a-days, I know that grief will always be a part of who I am… However, I also know it isn’t the only part of who I am.

“Grief takes as long as it takes, and there is no right or wrong way to express it. Nor does it really end; instead, we gradually take new shape around it.”
~ Unity Inspirational Publications, Grief is a Spiritual Practice

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