Tag: memories

Peace, Love and Grief… Facing another anniversary and I still remember…

I thought we had forever…
I never knew we were counting down
from the day we met.
~ Linda, Sept. 26, 2013

As I approach this weekend, I find myself in tears. I have fought it all week, but now it is time to let myself feel what I feel.

On Tuesday, January 12, it will be 3 years… Three years since my worse nightmare came true…

January 11, 2013 was a Friday. It will be forever ingrained in my mind. I got home late, and Bruce was even later. As a truck driver, he often worked 12 – 14 hour days. However, given his occupation, we were both thankful that he was a “local” driver and home every night.

That Friday he had left for work around 5 AM and returned home around 8 PM. I had already eaten, (Chicken Lo Mein, which I still do not eat to this day), but I sat with him as he ate the dinner he had picked up on his way home. We talked about the upcoming weekend and what we wanted to do… go to the beach, use the kayaks, or go out on the boat… It really didn’t matter as long as we were together and near the water.

I remember Bruce laughing and saying, “Whatever we do is fine with me… We could just see where the day takes us.”

That night we did our usual bedtime routine, kissed goodnight and snuggled up to sleep in each other’s arms. A few short hours later, it happened… I woke up around 1 AM to a strange noise. Bruce sounded like he was snoring but more than that… like he was having trouble breathing. I remember shaking him and shouting, “Wake up, Babe. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”

But he didn’t wake up. Instead, he seized up and then stopped breathing.

“No!” I thought. “This can’t be. This must be a dream. This can’t really be happening.” It was all so surreal.

I remember calling 911. I remember talking to the 911 operator, while trying to get dressed, unlock the door for the EMS crew, struggling to put something solid under Bruce so I could perform CPR, counting while doing compressions and the EMS team arriving. I remember watching as they continued the CPR, used the “paddles,” injected him with an epi-pen directly into his heart. I remember the line on the monitor staying flat no matter what they tried. I remember standing to the side watching all of that… and I remember thinking repeatedly, “This can’t be real. This isn’t happening. I need to wake up. I need to make this dream stop.”

But I wasn’t dreaming. Instead, it was all just the beginning of an absolute nightmare.

I remember a pastor coming in to “console” me and saying, “Just think of it as someone hit the ‘delete’ button on Bruce.” I remember that same pastor and the police officer, who had driven me to the hospital, talking about football over my head as I cried. There I was crying and lost because my husband had just died in my arms, and they were talking about a football game. I remember wanting them to leave but not knowing how to tell them.

I remember the nurse handing me Bruce’s wedding band “for safe keeping.” I remember being allowed some time to “say good-by.” I remember stroking his hair and his cheeks. I remember thinking he was going to open his eyes at any minute and say, “Gotcha.” But he didn’t. Instead, I remember squeezing his toes as I left the room, something I had always done when I walked past his lounger at home… and I remember kissing his cheek and saying, “I love you, babe. I will always love you… and until I see you again – Good-by.”

I remember the ride home in the same police car and thinking, “I’m alone… From now on, I will always be alone.” I wasn’t crying at that point… I was in such shock. I remember making phone calls (at 3:30 in the morning). I remember Bruce’s Mom crying out in pain and disbelief when I told her. Calls like that one are permanently fixed in my memory, while I do not even remember making others. However, I do remember the shock in each voice as I relayed the news that Bruce… My Bruce was dead. He was gone.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine at that point what that really meant.

I remember cleaning the house because everyone would be coming. I remember trying to clean the bed where he had died. I remember making lists, although I don’t remember what they were. Most of all, I remember thinking, “This can’t be real. This space… this house is ours. You can’t be gone! Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me here alone!”

But it was real… he was gone… I was alone.

I have spent 3 years (on Tuesday) coming to terms with that reality. Some days are better than others. I am working on my perspective and attitude. I know that what I choose to see in life is what I will see. However, I won’t lie. It is hard. I make myself get up each morning and say “thank you” for a new day. However, I also will be thankful when the time comes, and I am with Bruce again. (Not trying to upset anyone or insinuate anything – just an honest widow’s statement.)

So what will I do on Tuesday? Well, this will be my first year facing this anniversary by myself. I won’t say alone because there are a lot of people also grieving for Bruce. There are also a lot of people who have offered their support if I need them, and for that I am endlessly thankful.

My plan for Tuesday is similar to last year, and I am sure I will share it next week. But for today… tonight… and probably the next few days, I will be reliving our last few days together (especially that night) over and over…

and still wishing this was just a very bad dream…

and still praying I will wake up with Bruce next to me… holding me…

the way I remember.

Each morning I awaken
And I am reminded all over
That you are gone.
I call out to you…
Sometimes in only a whisper.
And I still feel your soul respond to mine…
~ Linda, March 22, 2015

For anyone dealing with loss, the anniversary of that loss is something we must endure year after year. I don’t know if it ever gets easier. So far, for me it is still just as painful… the tears and grief, just as strong.

Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

* 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… What do you do with the stocking?

From what I see in my neighborhood and on Face Book, most of us have already decked our halls… I did mine after I returned from my Thanksgiving trip. Inititally, I wasn’t going to decorate this year. Not to avoid the holiday, it just seems like a huge amount of work, and I’m the only one to see it.

“I’ll just put up the Christmas Village,” I thought. Then, it was the nutcrackers… As I opened each container, I found myself smiling as I remembered Christmases past with Bruce and my kids. It was such a beautiful, bittersweet trip, I ended up decorating after all… But this experience was quite different from last year’s.

That first year, I ignored Christmas, so there was nothing to think about. Last year, though, I thought I was ready until I opened that first container… and there right on top, was Bruce’s stocking… Right where I had packed it after our last Christmas together… A Christmas when I thought we still had the rest of our lives to celebrate this holiday over and over.

Journal Entry – Dec 2, 2014

Hi Babe… feeling down… really struggling and missing you. Yesterday was okay – good actually… Until I started some Christmas decorating last night. : ( I thought I was ready. I thought I would be okay, but it broke me. I didn’t do Christmas last year, so this is my first time unpacking this stuff since you died. And since this box represents our last few weeks together, the memories are bittersweet and the tears seem to be endless. All I managed to get out were two nativity sets, the light brick and the stocking holders. (What am I going to do with those?) Hang one stocking? Do I hang yours? I don’t know what to do there… What do I do? I cried myself to sleep and woke up still crying. I’m not very good at this whole widow/grief thing. I can’t seem to just “move on.” I still love and miss you so much! How can this be my life? How can you be gone? How does someone with so much love and life just cease to exist? I don’t think I will ever understand this.

I keep remembering how much you loved Christmas – all the decorations and the music… your big ole’ grin when you watched me decorate or when you put on the Christmas music; your big smile that first Christmas when you laid on your belly in the snow to cut down the tree my youngest daughter had picked; how much you loved all the treats (even though you swore you didn’t eat sweets) and how excited you got about getting me the “perfect” gift. You loved the fact that this season was all about family and that was what you celebrated. When we were in Michigan, your folks would be there for the whole month and we would spend as much time as possible with them. This was also the time we would spend a week with my family back home. All that is gone now… It was you, Babe. You brought the magic to our lives and now you’re gone. Now I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost… I thought I could do this, but now… I don’t know.

Journal Entry – Dec 3, 2014

Hey Babe! Wow! Yesterday was tough. I didn’t leave the house all day… Shoot – I couldn’t stop crying all day. I’m still kind of emotionally tender today, but definitely doing better today. The stocking thing really threw me for a loop. I ended up going on-line and searching. Turns out, my reaction is common… What to do with the stocking throws a lot of us for a loop. There were all kinds of ideas and suggestions. I’m going with the only one that made me smile when I read it. I’m hanging your stocking and placing paper next to it. Then, I am going to write Christmas memories on the paper (as I remember or people send them) and place them in the stocking. I’ve already had three people send memories. : ) It makes me smile. I still cried some, but I managed to finish the decorating. I still wish you were here… you loved all of this… I don’t know about next year, but this will work for this year.

So… What am I doing this year? The same… Bruce’s stocking is right next to mine – where it belongs. The paper is there and I am writing and adding memories as I remember them. This year I wasn’t caught off-guard, and the memories make me smile. I still wish he were here. I probably always will because I still love and miss him.

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Over the past few months, gratitude has become a part of my new mantra, so instead of crying over what is lost, I am thankful for what was… for all the wonderful memories of those Christmases past.

And, believe it or not, I find myself looking forward to whatever new memories are waiting to be made.

Have you ever found yourself caught off-guard like this? What did you do? Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

* 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… What I miss

I smile when I remember you…even through my tears.

~ Linda, October 17, 2013

For the most part, I function in a positive zone… most days, I am okay. I can smile and laugh and live in the moment. However, I still have days where the grief and sadness are dominant… The past few days have been that way. I just feel sad. Plain and simple, I miss Bruce… I miss so many things about my life with him.

This isn’t the same as a pity party… I’m not caught up in feeling sorry for myself. I am accepting of my reality… I am just sad. I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s a difference. I guess the best I can do is to say there is no “poor me” factor involved. I just miss him.

When you lose your partner, you lose more than just a person. That person filled so many roles… so many spaces in your life. I miss all those things. I always say that Bruce was my hero… and he was. He was also my best friend, my rock and my anchor… He brought stability to my life. I have spent most my adulthood going from one crisis to the next, but not with Bruce. Life took on a peace and fullness that I miss as well.

There wasn’t a lot that bothered or irked him. He was a firm believer in letting go and moving forward. I miss that optimism and strength… The idea that whatever had occurred would be okay because of what still lay ahead.

While I am getting used to going places alone, I still hate it. When I’m out with a group, I feel like an extra wheel… that friend that no one quite knows what to do with. I miss going places with him – side by side… always together. I miss sharing those places and experiences with each other.

I miss going out to eat together. We always sat on the same side of the table so we could still hold hands (or snuggle if it was a booth). (Yea – that probably sounds goofy but I loved it!) I miss that he would always order an appetizer while I ordered a full meal. Then when I got full (which was pretty quick), he would finish off mine… always letting me pick what I wanted, then  laughing as I pushed my plate toward him after only a few bites.

I miss going to the beach together. We didn’t even talk that much… We both enjoyed the silence as we sat next to each other holding hands and watching the waves or snoozing.

I miss cooking together. There was something fun and romantic about sharing a space that is really meant for one. I also miss the days when one of us cooked (usually him) and the other (usually me) sat at the counter – watching and talking.

I miss snuggling on the couch after dinner – either in silence or watching TV. It didn’t really matter. Just being together, breathing each other in, was the best part of those moments.

I miss those days when he got home first and would greet me at the door with a glass of wine. OR when I was on the phone with someone and getting stressed, silently, he would come with a grin and a glass of wine.

I miss playing games and knowing that he would never just let me win. He might play sports left handed to give me better chance (LOL!) but he was just as competitive as I am. Whoever won had definite bragging rights for days.

I miss having someone who loves me even when I am wrong. Knowing someone has your back, no matter what, is amazing! Whenever I was frustrated with myself, Bruce would just take me in his arms and hold me. He never reiterated my mistakes… I was already well aware of whatever I had done. I just needed to know that someone still loved me… and that it was him. He never left me doubting his love. It was always there…

Now I do all of these things alone… with only memories to fill the space next to me.

Countless research has shown that in a healthy marriage/partnership the partners put each other first… over children, over other family, over careers… over everything else out there. You are each other’s priority. I miss that… I miss having and being a priority.

Don’t get me wrong, I am loved. I know that without a doubt. But I am not (nor should I be) first on anyone’s list. The other side of that is I no longer have that special person in my life to take care of, either. (That is a tough reality.) Without Bruce, I only have me looking out for me… that feels really strange and really wrong.

I have a friend who lost his wife a few months before I lost Bruce. I remember asking him how he was doing one day and he responded, “You miss the little things… that’s where the relationship and the love came from.” My experience says he was right.

I don’t think there is an answer for any of this… it is what it is.

This is my journey. Some days the road is smooth and the sun shines… other days the road is hard and I can’t see the sun. The only thing I know to do is breathe and take it one step at a time… allowing myself to feel what I feel – knowing that a better day is ahead… somewhere.

Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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

* 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… A Tribute to a Father

His Love

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

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

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

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

After the divorce, I wasn’t looking for anyone – I wasn’t interested in a relationship. When I met Bruce, though, there was an instant connection, and we were married 10 months later. However, because we were 1000 miles apart, there had not been much opportunity for my kids to get to know him very well. They had met him and knew who he was, but they didn’t really know him… not yet.

I so badly wanted things to work for our new family so I started researching and reading everything I could find on step-parenting and blended families. Everything I read said it would take at least 2 years for our family to develop our new roles and relationships within our new family… and that was if things went well.

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

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

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

Much later I would learn he had left her a note on her bed that night saying just about the same thing. He told her that he was not trying to replace anyone or be her Dad. He only wanted her to know that he was here and he would always be here… for her… no matter what.

When she tells this story, she will tell you that she tore that note up immediately. She will also tell you that she put his words to the test… I will confirm that she did. She tried everything to make him not like her… much less love her. But he was true to his word… he never wavered, no matter what she tried. The amazing part? Within 6 months, on our first Father’s Day together, she baked him cookies and for the first time, called him her Dad.

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

My second daughter and Bruce, were tight from the very first time they met, which was actually before we married. She had picked him up at the airport for me and driven him the 2 hours to our town. During that drive, she told him that she was glad to see her mom so happy, and she really liked him. Then, she went on to tell him that if he ever broke my heart or hurt me, she would “open a can of ‘whoop-a$$’ on him.” He used to laugh when he told that story because she isn’t much taller than me and just as petite. He absolutely loved her fire and energy for life, and they were best buds from that day forward.

When her son was born, he also instantly bonded with his “Poppa.” They would play or “hang out” watching football for hours. Bruce loved him with abandon and in his eyes, that boy could do no wrong. To this day, my grandson still talks about his Poppa and tells me that Poppa is his guardian angel. The bond between those two is so strong, it knows no bounds and seems to transcend this life.

My son was actually with me on the cruise when Bruce and I met. He was the world’s best chaperone on that trip. At one point when he saw Bruce holding my hand, he commented, “A little cheeky, don’t you think?” Cheeky?? What 17 year old says “cheeky?” (It took everything in me not to laugh out loud.)

Within a short time though, my son let his guard down and stopped trying to “protect” his mom. Soon after, he and Bruce had built a solid relationship. This relationship was such a blessing for my son. For the first time, he had the experience of a healthy, male role model and friend… a man to show him “how to be a man”… a man to show him “how to treat a lady”… all things I could never do.

From the beginning, Bruce was willing to do whatever was needed to move our family forward… anything from teaching teenagers to drive and helping with homework to offering unconditional love and acceptance as they tried to figure out how they each fit into this world. It was an amazing experience! How could a woman not love a man who loves her children so completely?

And what did we give to Bruce in return? A family… a BIG family… and all the love and craziness that comes with that. : )

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

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

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

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

* 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.