Tag: grieve

Peace, Love and Grief… Feeling Stressed… But Finding Strength

This week I heard a story of a grandfather in South America who took his grandson to the seashore one day to witness a spectacular annual event. Early in the morning as they arrived on the beach, a large colony of penguins emerged from the ocean. This particular species of penguin is known for being extremely strong swimmers. In fact, they spend most of their time in the water, and therefore feel quite vulnerable on land. The reason for their annual visit to this particular beach lay about 100 yards away… It is their burrows where they return each year to mate.

As the young boy and his grandfather watched, small groups of penguins would start to waddle toward their burrows, but inevitably, after only a few yards, something would spook them – a shadow, a bird overhead, or even the wind in the scrub or brush nearby. Immediately, the group would turn and scurry back to the water’s edge where they felt strong… and safe. This scenario of slow progression played out all day, until just as the sun was setting, the last group of penguins found the courage needed to brave the 100 yards of open land to their burrows.

At this point, the grandfather turned to his grandson and said, “There will be times in this life when you must leave your safety zone in order to get to the next place you need to be. The journey there may leave you feeling vulnerable, but you must find the courage to face your fears – both real and imagined. The important thing is to never give up… It may take you longer than you (or others) think it should, but as long as you never give up, you have not failed… You have succeeded… and grown stronger in the process.”

As I listened to this story, it really hit home…

My time with Bruce was my “time in the ocean.” It was when I felt safe… It was when I felt strong. The burrows represent my future… my life if I choose to move forward. And finally, the 100 yards of open beach filled with dangers – “both real and imagined” – is my time of grief… My time of learning to live without Bruce by my side.

As time passes, I am moving further up the beach, closer and closer to my burrow. Yet each time I feel hurt or afraid, I want to run back to the shore… back to my time (and memories) with Bruce. BUT my life is ahead of me… I know that… I know I must be willing to be vulnerable and allow myself to grow in order to really live again…

But how?

This week I still found myself trying to figure out how to leave the hurt and judgement from others behind… But as life seems to do, my answer came a few days later in the form of a quote from Theodore Roosevelt…

“It’s not the critic who counts! It’s not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done it better. The credit belongs to the person who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred with blood and sweat and dust, who at the best, in the end, knows the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worse, if he fails, he fails daring greatly!”

Oh, my gosh! How true!

Changes in life are hard! They throw us onto the beach or into the arena… And grief and loss are some of the hardest changes of all. As I make my way on this journey, I know there will be both successes and failures…

But I must remember I am the one in the arena… I am the one “marred with blood and sweat and dust.” And what someone “sitting in the stands” thinks of me doesn’t really matter, because …

I am the one who, day by day… step by step, is daring greatly…

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way. Have you ever found yourself wishing others could be more patient and less judgmental? Sometimes we just need to be reminded that we are the ones in the arena… And we show courage with each step we take (no matter how small). If you would be willing to share your experience, there may be someone else out there who needs to hear it. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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… Happy Birthday, Babe!

Over the last four years, this week has become one of the harder weeks of the year for me. It is the week of Bruce’s birthday. It makes me smile to think when he was alive, we usually spent this week celebrating with his parents on the Gulf Coast. It was always a week we looked forward to every year, and it was filled with family time, card games, beach time… and mostly love and laughs. Now, I only take his birthday off, and while I try to make it a day of celebrating the man and his life, it is still a day which holds a certain amount of sadness.

I want to be honest and share some of what I felt… Some of this may sound like self-pitying, ranting, but since my journal (and this blog) are the only places I feel safe enough to express myself without holding back, I believe anyone else experiencing loss will understand… There is a frustration that is not normally expressed, but isn’t healthy to completely ignore either…

Journal Entry – 4/12

Hi Babe! Tomorrow is your birthday (and the anniversary of your memorial). I still miss you more that anything… Sometimes I feel like I can’t even breathe – like tonight. I still don’t understand… Why us? Why were we only given a few short years? I know so many people who don’t love their spouses… They stay together because it’s comfortable (or convenient). But you and I – two people who loved each other more than anything – we were ripped apart… I don’t get it… Why? For what purpose? Is this really the act of a loving God? A caring universe? I just want you back! I just want us back! I want to feel you hold me – feel your breath as you whisper in my ear, and your sweet gentle kisses on my neck. (sigh) How long? This hurts so much! I try to stay busy these days so I don’t have a lot of time to get inside my own head. But when I do, I still hurt; I still miss you… and I still love you! I pray God will help me though tomorrow… : ( I love you, Babe! (Always and forever!)

Journal Entry – 4/13

Morning:
Happy Birthday, Babe! Today is bittersweet… I am beyond thankful for you and our time together. I feel absolutely blessed to have known you, held you and loved you… And so incredibly sad that you are gone. This still hurts so bad. I thought by now (after four years) I would have moved on… or at least not hurt this much… But I was wrong. People have sent me lots of messages today to say they are praying for me. I appreciate that – I really do, but I don’t want prayers… I want you! I want this stupid, horrible nightmare to end! I want to see you smile and hear you laugh. I want to sit side-by-side on the beach holding your hand. I want to hug you and lay in your arms. I want to hear your voice and tell you “I love you.” I want all these things… and more. But I can’t have any of it, so I guess the prayers aren’t just kind gestures… I guess I really need them. : (

I went for a (very slow) bridge walk this morning – not for the exercise, but to just breathe the salt air and observe the wildlife… to just “be”… and remember all the times we did just that together. : ) Now I am sitting on the beach, where four years ago we watched from the shore as your ashes were scattered offshore, and we did our best to say our good-byes. I have “toasted” you with coconut rum (in honor of the islands where we met, fell in love and honeymooned so many years ago). It feels right to celebrate you simply and at the beach.

While we were usually in Gulf Shores, we always spent the day on the beach – drinking, napping, meeting and talking to new people and loving our time together… Little did I know how precious that time was… To quote Andy Bernard (The Office – Final Episode), “I wish we knew we were in the ‘good old days’ while we are still in them” … Yeah – me too!

I remember our first “Bruce’s Birthday Vacation” we took together. We had only known each other a few months, but we already knew we had a “forever” thing. We both flew to your folks’ place and met up at the airport. Since ours was a long-distance relationship, we just held each other for what felt like an eternity. I don’t think either of us wanted to let go.

I remember driving to their house and meeting your parents for the first time. (I was so nervous!) But they were extremely kind… I remember your Dad telling me that he knew he already loved me, because he loved anyone who could put such a smile back on your face after so many years. Then in the next moment, he grabbed my left hand, asked where the ring was and when we were getting married. LOL!

We were both horribly embarrassed, but that didn’t stop him. He pushed that topic all weekend. (But, to his credit, he was right. Seven months later, we were saying “I do” just as he predicted.) : ) (sigh)

I miss you, Babe… I hate that I am sitting here alone… I love you! Happy Birthday, Babe!

Afternoon:
Memories of your last birthday here popped up on my Face Book: On This Day feature this morning… You had gone the week before your birthday to your folks’ (without me, since I had to work), so you and your sister could celebrate your birthdays together. You had fun, but you and I argued about something ugly you said to me while you were gone. What did you do?… You came home with flowers, hugs, kisses and a genuine apology.

Since you had been gone that week, though, you had to work on your actual birthday – Something you hadn’t done since I met you, but a trade-off you had made. On your birthday, I had “Birthday Fairy” gifts (2) for you (as usual). They weren’t much – some craft beer you liked and some BBQ tools, but you smiled and said, “Thank you.”

That night I had plenty of time to make your cake, wrap your presents and decorate the house before you got home. But you came home in a mood! Whoa! I don’t know what had transpired, but you came home pissed! You could barely look at or talk to me. When I carefully asked about cake and presents, you just said “no” and stormed off to bed. I was absolutely crushed! It was so unlike you! I remember Skyping with my dear friend, Caroline, and crying my eyes out. To this day, I still don’t know exactly what happened. All I know is the next day we hardly spoke, and I went on to bed before you even came home… your cake and presents still sitting on the table.

The following day, (two days after your birthday), I was sitting on the couch when you came home, sat beside me, took my hand, and kissed it. Then, you apologized. You said you had been dumb. You didn’t realize there was cake and more presents. (Not sure how you missed them.) You thought I had ignored your birthday for the most part, and you were hurt. Then, you asked if we could have cake and open your presents. I forgave you (of course) and we finally did the cake and presents thing… But to this day, I don’t understand what really happened… And I hate that your last birthday here was probably your worst… I’m sorry if I did something to screw it up, Babe. I’m sorry your last birthday wasn’t the best birthday… We didn’t know it would be your last… I’m sorry.

Now as I write this blog, Bruce’s birthday has passed, and Easter is here. According to my faith, it is a celebration of resurrection… a reminder that our life here isn’t really the end. I believe in eternal life – I do – and it does bring me some comfort knowing that I will see Bruce again one day – that (eventually) we will be together for the rest of forever. However, that does not hold much comfort in the day to day living of my life… this life without Bruce.

Right now, I am alone… He is gone and I am still here… and (most likely) it will be that way for many years. Sometimes I wonder if he will be by my side when it is finally my time to go? Will he still love me then?… I believe so… I believe this love we share is beyond this time and space… But “one day” is not today, so, what do I do with all of that for now?

Well… I will continue to celebrate the man, his life and his legacy. I will be thankful for what was and look forward to what will be… And I will continue to learn how to live and enjoy the present… one celebration at a time… one day at a time… one step at a time…

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way. Perhaps you have had moments like I had this week. Perhaps the birthday of your loved one or celebrations of life bring on similar or even different thoughts and emotions. If so, would you be willing to share your experience? Perhaps there is someone else out there who needs to hear your story too. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. (1)

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

1 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.

2 The Birthday Fairy comes the night before your birthday while you are sleeping and leaves small gifts for you to open as soon as you wake up. (This is to make it easier to wait until the “big celebration” at the end of the day to open all the “real” birthday gifts.) This has been a tradition in our family since my children were little. I had introduced Bruce to this tradition on our first birthday vacation to his parent’s home years earlier.

Peace, Love and Grief… The Four Cs

I didn’t Cause it.
I can’t Control it.
I can’t Cure it.
I can learn to Cope with it.
~ Unknown

When I was going through my divorce years ago, it was hard. Even knowing it was the right thing to do did not make it any easier. I was raised to believe in commitment… divorce was not supposed to be an option. Yet, there I was going through one of the (then) hardest milestones of my life… To admit that this man could never love me or our family (likely because he couldn’t love himself) was one of the hardest things to admit and believe.

In my core, I knew what I had to do, and I did it, but it was a struggle. I dealt with a lot of guilt put in place by years and years of a religion that said “divorce is wrong no matter what.” I also dealt with an obsessive spouse who refused to let go… someone who harassed our children and me non-stop… It felt like hell on earth for all of us.

I can’t remember at what point my mother sent these four lines to me. However, I do remember that it sat on my bedside table for years as I worked to heal from years of abuse. Those lines gave me a lot of strength as I released the guilt, fear and anger, and (slowly over time) replaced it with confidence and peace. While I know the first three lines are usually seen in AA materials, the difference was in that last line… “I can learn to cope with it” … That line gave me hope that there was something better waiting in my future.

And there was… His name was Bruce…

He walked into my life when I wasn’t looking for anyone and loved me when I didn’t believe anyone ever could. He taught me that life is fun and filled with adventure. He helped me realize that I am stronger than I ever imagined. He taught me to love again… and to trust again…

He showed me how to “cope with it.”

Somewhere through the years, I tucked that piece of paper in a drawer with other random notes and papers. I haven’t thought about it for years… until this week. Don’t ask me how, but despite three moves, I came across this same piece of paper in my writing desk drawer this week. How it got there, I have no idea. (It is so bizarre that it would show up now, after all these years.)

However, what I do know is April is a hard month for me. (It is Bruce’s birthday month.) Already, I have had more crying moments than usual… I know I needed to see this paper again… and there it was.

When Bruce died, I lost all hope… Our life had been so perfect… so full… everything I could have ever wished for. But in a moment, all that was gone… vanished… finished. I have spent the last four years learning to live life again… Only this time, I have to do it alone. Admittedly, some days I am more successful than others, but I keep at it… And I refuse to quit trying.

Today when these lines crossed my path once again, I felt like it was a message from Bruce… A note telling me that I can do this. I can learn to cope with it… I can learn to trust again… I can learn to hope again… (Although, whether I ever love again remains to be seen.)… But I will take it one day at a time as I learn to “cope with it.”

Grief is hard, but I believe that God (or the Universe or whatever you want to call it) puts things and people in our path that we need at the time. Sometimes these things that pop into our path seem so simple, yet they can make all the difference in our outlook.

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way. Perhaps you have had moments like I had this week. If so, would you be willing to share your experience? Perhaps there is someone else out there who needs to hear your story too. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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… When We Became Me

Carol King’s 1971 hit, “Tapestry,” has always struck a chord with me… I remember getting that album for Christmas and listening to it over and over. (In fact, I still own it – in CD form – and listen to it constantly.) There has always been something hauntingly true in her lyrics about how our lives are filled with one change after another and our response to those changes.

All of us have experienced change in our lives… It is impossible not to. It is those transforming experiences that shape and mold us – that make us who we are at any given point in time… But even that can (and will) change…

As a young child living along a country, dirt road, I remember being carefree… There wasn’t too much that really bothered me, and even knowing the consequences, I would usually do whatever I felt inclined to try… Life was fun, and my world was safe. However by about mid-childhood, I had definitely changed into a “rules driven” personality… I wanted to be a “good girl” in the eyes of the adults in my world. I have to admit I wasn’t always successful, (there was still too much “carefree” inside), but I tried.

Like most teenagers, I was constantly told I was rebellious. (Although, looking back, I would call it “finding my wings.”) I can remember sitting in Sunday School and listening to the teacher use Carol King’s song as an analogy. She described the “mess” on the back of a tapestry and how sometimes that is the way we view our lives as we go from one experience to another. But God is creating the front of the tapestry, and we should wait patiently to see the beauty of the finished product.

Move ahead to my first marriage, and I had changed again… Due to the violence in our home, I became whoever I needed to be in each moment to keep the peace as best I could. I learned to assess body language and emotions before, during and after every interaction…. Being vigilant to notice any change in these became a “normal” (albeit stress-filled) way of life…

However, I “found my wings” again when I left that situation and moved on. It was a beautiful feeling as I learned to love life again. In fact, when I met Bruce during this time, I initially walked away, because I didn’t want to chance being stifled again… I just wanted to live my life in peace.

Obviously that didn’t last long! : ) Bruce’s inner strength and gentle spirit had already woven their magic into my soul. We were connected in a way, that I would have told you only happened in Fairy Tales… But it happened to us. And for eight beautiful years, I was blessed to live “happily ever after.”

I blossomed during those years. Without saying a word, Bruce taught me about acceptance, unconditional love and living a genuine life. People tell me, I had the same effect on him. We both changed, I guess, and became more of who we were meant to be… We were amazing together.

Then, one night without any warning, We became Me again.

In the beginning, I was too numb with shock to understand or accept what had happened. If it weren’t for my journals and the “On this day” feature on Face Book, I wouldn’t remember very much about that first year… except the emotions. I remember feeling angry and scared and mostly abandoned. I think it would be safe to say I lost myself that year…

Sometime towards the end of that first year, though, I started digging deeper into who Bruce was… into his legacy. I wanted to understand this quiet man and what made him tick. So, I started reading the books and articles he had read. I listened to the speakers and music he enjoyed. I dug through his papers searching for anything hand-written, in an effort to understand what he felt was important… After four years of this, I feel I understand Bruce so much more now than when he was here.

I also have come to realize I have changed again… I am still me, but I have taken on a lot of Bruce, too.

I think one of the biggest changes is in being social. I used to love being social… going out with friends and entertaining were top on my list of fun things to do… I never knew a stranger – “The more the merrier” was my mantra. Now (more like Bruce), I am content to be alone or simply hang out with one or two people. Don’t get me wrong – I’m not shy… I can do crowds and strangers, but it is not my preference… It is not my comfort zone.

It probably sounds crazy (given my first marriage), but in the past I trusted everyone… A person had to show me several times I could not trust them before I made that call. Now (more like Bruce), I believe trust is something that comes with time – It is not a “given.” I am learning I can accept someone where they are on their journey and care about them, but that does not necessarily translate into trusting them.

Probably the biggest change has been my faith. Before, I was very good at being religious and calling it faith. I knew all the “right” answers and could quote scripture to back it up. Bruce, however, was very different… He wasn’t a fan of organized religion, yet he lived a life that was more “Christ-like,” more genuine and loving, than anyone I had ever met. To get from where I was to where he had been took a lot of soul searching…

When Bruce died, I was very angry with God… I am talking about the cursing and shaking my fist at God kind of mad… After all, I had followed the “rules.” Why did he let this happen? Hadn’t I already dealt with enough? Why did he send me such happiness, just to snatch it away? Did he really hate me this much?

As I learned more and more about what made Bruce tick, I found myself digging deeper and deeper into my own faith and what I really believe… I had my own spiritual experience and found my own faith… As a result, I feel closer to God than I have ever felt in my life, because for the first time, my faith is based on my experience and no one else’s… I, also, have to say while I am no longer “good at religion,” I am much better at being me and living in a way that reflects what I say believe.

So why am I telling you all of this?

Because when Bruce died, “We” became “Me” in an instant. When people talked about my “new normal” and my “grief journey,” I thought they were referring to healing and learning to love again. I had no idea what they were referring to would mean a lot more change.

The funny part is I didn’t really realize how much I have changed… how much of Bruce’s legacy I have taken on until this year. It makes me smile to when I see the beauty of Bruce’s tapestry as it has been (and continues to be) inter-woven into mine…

Yes, there was a day when “We” became “Me”… But as time passes, I am learning that there will always be a bit of “We” inside me… That part of the Tapestry can never be undone… and that makes me smile the most.

For most of us, the grief journey is a hard one. Learning to navigate this path and being willing to change can make the difference between healing and merely surviving. What about you? Looking back, do you find you have stayed the same or changed? What does your tapestry look like? If any of this strikes a chord with you, let us know. Or if you need a hand, let us know… we are here for you. If you have found a positive way through this, would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Sometimes It’s the Little Things

Usually I start thinking through this blog early in the week, so by the time I sit down to write, most of it just flows. This week was no different, until this morning… when things changed…

After Bruce passed, it took a while to change anything in this house. It was four months before I could give any of his things to other family members. Several more months before I could actually rearrange things in the house or sell his truck… A year before I could clean out his closet and chest of drawers… And well over a year before I managed to finish all the legal paperwork…

I know there are those who jump right in and get all these things done right away – like ripping off a bandage, I am told. But not me… I couldn’t do it like that. For me, it became (and still is) a process.

It may sound ridiculous, but in the beginning, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was all just a bad dream. I just needed to hang in there until I could wake up. Then, Bruce would come home and all would be as it was. I couldn’t get rid of or move anything… I had to be “good.” I had to be patient. I had to leave everything as it was. Then, everything would be okay.

As crazy as this may sound, I am told it is not unusual… The denial I was experiencing was a normal response to the shock and trauma of the whole event.

But even after reality set in, there was another part of me that felt like I was “erasing” Bruce’s very existence every time I transferred something into my name, sold something or gave away anything.

I remember clearly the day I went to finish the last of the paperwork changing the last few things from Bruce’s name to mine. With two wonderful friends by my side, I cried as I signed the final paper work making everything so real… so final.

I also remember the day I finally went through Bruce’s things – deciding what to keep and what to give away. Another dear friend came and sat with me – asking about memories and freely giving hugs throughout the afternoon. It was a hard process, but (so far) I haven’t regretted any of the choices I made that day with her support.

This week held two more of “those” experiences. The first one was early in the week…

Since the night he died, I have worn Bruce’s necklace with a small, silver anchor and his wedding ring hanging from it. At some point in the second year, I added my wedding ring to the chain, as well, and have worn these day and night without fail… Their constant presence near my heart brings me comfort.

Earlier this week, I noticed that somehow one side of the anchor had bent. I was devastated. In an effort to repair it myself, I only managed to make it worse initially, and the tears started immediately… It was crazy… Here I am four years later, and the idea of losing this tangible piece of “us” was more than I could handle. I finally managed to fix it, but then I had to decide – Do I keep wearing it? What if it happens again and is beyond repair? Do I tuck it away to protect it or do I continue to wear it for as long as possible?…

I have chosen to wear it (at least for now)… The comfort I feel while wearing it is too great to hide in a drawer…

The second experience happened this morning and took me a bit by surprise. It started a couple of months ago, when I gave away Bruce’s original bed frame and mattress set to a neighbor. I thought it was going to be hard to watch it go, but I was fine.

We were giving it away to make room for my grandson’s new bed… part of turning the guest room into a room for a seven-year-old boy. I knew Bruce would rather his little Boudreaux had his own space versus me hanging onto a bed set simply for the sake of memories. To be honest, I don’t even know the name of the people who took it, only that they live around the corner… And that is fine. I haven’t regretted that decision at all.

Armed with the strength from that decision and the knowledge that I have needed to replace our master bed mattress set for quite a while, I decided to bite the bullet. Since I have been (passively) looking at mattresses for over a year, I knew what I wanted… I was only procrastinating because the current set had been ours.

So Saturday morning, I woke up, showered and headed to the store – fully confident in my decision. In less than an hour, I had made my purchase and arrangements for delivery this morning…

But this morning, I woke up feeling sad… overwhelmingly sad. Was I really ready for this? After all, this was the space where Bruce held me for the last time… Where we kissed for the last time… Where I held him as he took his last breath…

As I write this, it is hours later. The old mattress set is gone… The new one is in place, and the bed made up. I haven’t laid on it yet,… but I will. I know this change was necessary, and I’ll be okay… But right now, I just feel a little sad…

Through the years, I have come to realize sometimes it’s the seemingly inconsequential, small things that can shake your world without warning…

For most of us, the grief journey is a hard one. Learning to let go of the things… the tangible reminders of our loved ones can be hard… even years later. If any of this sounds familiar, there are many of us here with you… you are not alone. If you have found a positive way through this, would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… How Are You?

(Re) Construction Zone Warning:
Please pardon the mess…
This area may look like an emotional mess as I work towards recovering from my grief.
Some days the mess you see will look worse than it really is.
Other days it will look better than it really is.
But most days it will look just like it really is… emotional chaos.
Please just send love and understanding until I have worked through my grief.
~ Linda, October 2013

How are you?… That’s a question most of us ask and are asked several times a day. For the most part, it is a rhetorical question… One almost “required” by society as a polite greeting. So, do we really want a true answer? Do we ever give a true answer?

Before Bruce passed, my response was usually “FANTASTIC! How about you?” And when someone actually gave an honest answer, I was immediately uncomfortable if it was anything but positive. But why? After all, I had asked… shouldn’t I care enough to want a true response?

When Bruce passed away, I felt torn when it came to this question… There was a part of me that didn’t want to ask this question… I was so caught up in my own pain, it was hard to see or care about what others were experiencing. (It sounds harsh, I know… but the point of this blog is to be honest.) There was also another part that didn’t quite know how to answer this question… If I gave my standard “Fantastic” response, it seemed ridiculous. Everyone who knew me knew I was far from fantastic…

But, did I dare give an honest answer? Who in the world wanted to hear that?

Two weeks after Bruce passed, I started attending a support group. One of the things they addressed right from the start was this very question. “Be honest,” they said. “People care. They want to know. They want to help.”

So I ventured out on a limb… I started answering with “Not so good… Today’s a rough day” or “I’m just taking it one moment at a time today” or something similar… You get the picture. The responses were not quite what I expected…

I learned very quickly, who cared enough to walk beside me through this… and who preferred not to. I hope this doesn’t sound judgmental, because that is not how I mean it. Let me explain…

John Gottman has written several books about “Sliding Door” moments. (Think of the movie by the same name.) These are those small, inconsequential moments each day, where we are given a choice to engage with someone or not. It is in these small moments where trust is either built because we choose to engage or it is lost because we choose to walk away. It is up to us…

Without knowing it at the time, I was experiencing exactly that… Those sliding door moments. I needed someone to care, but that is not something I had any control over. However, I learned quite quickly who I could trust with my feelings and who I shouldn’t simply by their response when I answered their question.

At first it was hard… There were so many people that I had assumed would be there to help hold me up, but they weren’t. For whatever reason, they chose to either place some distance between us or to walk away completely. In fact, someone I have known my whole life told me early on “Stop telling me those things… No one wants to hear you whine.”

At the same time, there were people who had never been particularly close to me who pulled me close and held me up. They not only made a point of checking on me, they also knew when I was having a rough day without a word from me… They seemed to see it in my eyes even when I tried to pretend all was okay. They came and stood beside me through the all the legal stuff, all the “firsts,” and all those moments I didn’t think I could get through on my own.

It’s funny, but the trust really was built in those small moments. And these are the people I owe my life to… I don’t think I would have made it without them.

It has been four years now, and life has moved forward… I still grieve, and I still have rough days. But most of the time I can honestly say I am doing much better. Now when someone asks me how I am, (for the most part) I respond with “Fabulous! Thank you for asking.” If I am honest, I have to say there are days when I feel it more than other days… And on those other days, it is a “fake it till you make it” response… but that’s okay too.

In fact, now I am able to follow it with “And how about you?”… And mean it. Now I understand the importance of stopping to listen… The importance of those sliding door moments… Those seemingly inconsequential moments where I know I can choose to make a difference for someone else… The same way others made a difference for me.

So… How are you, my friend?

For most of us, the grief journey is a hard one. Learning to be honest with our feelings and who we can safely share those moments with can be overwhelming at times. Learning how to safely pass through this journey is different for everyone. If any of this sounds familiar, there are many of us here with you… you are not alone. If you have found a positive way through this, would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… When You Feel Alone and Scared

During my first marriage, stress and anxiety were a constant. They were a part of everything… In fact, I can’t remember a day where those feelings were not waiting somewhere on the horizon. Even in the “good” times, there was always a shadow hovering over everything… The knowledge that at any moment everything could change…

Life, then, had an odd surreal feeling as my first husband could be laughing one moment and yelling the next. What set him off one day, he could just as easily be fine with the next. That was the problem… It was like living with Jekyll and Hyde. We never knew from one moment to the next which side we would get. I learned to watch the tiniest details of his body language – watching for the slightest change in his eye movements, his breathing, his pace, his language… everything and anything, in an effort to catch a hint of what would might come next.

As a result, I lived in a constant state of anxiety. That feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach was there all the time. It was a horrible way to live… But we did it for 20 years before I finally gathered enough courage to leave. I thought that would have been the end of it. After all, it was over… we were safe… But it isn’t that simple.

Living like that for so many years takes its toll… I knew I couldn’t get over it alone, so I sought help. Almost immediately, I was diagnosed with PTSD. (Evidently this is not unusual for someone from [or in] a traumatic situation.) It took years, but eventually I worked through all that. I’ve written about it before – about how Bruce’s unconditional love, patience and acceptance brought so much healing to my family. In fact, I truly thought I had left that trauma behind years ago.

After Bruce passed away, I received several menacing messages from my first husband which, at first, threw me for a loop. Initially, I found myself emotionally thrown back in time… Those old feelings of panic and anxiety took over the moment I saw his first message. However, this time was different. This time I pulled myself together and decided I was not cowering or hiding. I refused to feel that way and took actions to protect myself.

Why am I sharing this now? Because this week, I find myself with that same constant feeling of dread and anxiety… That feeling in the pit of my stomach that something terrible is about happen. What has triggered it? Everything happening in our society right now. I don’t think it matters which side of the political fence you are on, you cannot deny that as a society we are not at peace with each other.

Each morning I wake up wondering what is going to happen next? How much worse will it get?

Each day I see people being uglier and uglier to each other. I see it on Face Book as people hurl accusations and reduce themselves to name-calling anyone with a different opinion. The saddest part of this is – I see it between friends… Things people would never say to someone’s face (before now) are said on Social Media with no thought to kindness or respect.

In business, I also see customers being more and more aggressive and demanding to a degree I have never experienced previously. In fact, no matter where I go, there seems to be an underlying current of discontent and frustration… Other than children, no one seems to be happy… I mean, really happy.

Yesterday I woke up in the wee hours of the morning with that pit of dread deep in my stomach. As I laid there crying, I found myself asking Bruce – “Why did you leave me here to deal with all of this alone? I’m scared! I need you… And you left… you left me here all alone. What am I supposed to do?”

I always miss Bruce, but this current stream of events has left me feeling deeply scared and alone once again. I miss the strength and security of his arms. I miss those times when he would wrapped his arms around me and assured me everything was going to be okay. I miss those nights when I would wake up in a panic, and he would instinctively reach out to hold me even in his sleep.

Now, there is no one to hold me… no one to tell me it is all going to be okay… I feel alone, and I feel scared… But I refuse to stay here.

I don’t believe we are called to live in fear, but this time I must be the one to push myself forward. If I want to see things change… if I want to see more peace and less anger… I know it is up to me now to do something to affect that change.

Personally, I believe we are each called for a specific purpose. I, also, believe when we were instructed to “love our neighbor” and “love one another,” this means we are being called to a loving solidarity with all humanity… nothing less. So where do I go with that? I’m not completely sure… But I will start with the legacy Bruce taught me…

• Refuse to get caught up in the anger and hate
• Be “for” things not “against” things
• Be open to respectful dialogue; disengage from disrespectful, hate/fear-filled dialogue
• Accept others where they are on their own journey
• Show love and respect to everyone

Will any of this really make a difference? I don’t know, but if enough of us did it, maybe… just maybe we could find a peaceful way through all of this together.

Life will determine your boundaries.
It will push you further than you ever thought possible…
If you let it,
It will take you to the edge.
Do not be afraid;
Do not hold back.
Take a breath,
Take a step
And then another…
Then and only then, can you walk to the edge.
~ Linda, Sept 2013

NOTE: This is not meant to be a political post. I debated on writing about my real feelings this week, because I do not want to be misinterpreted. This is simply my emotional response to my observations… nothing more. I pray that is what I conveyed…

For many of us, these are worrisome times. Learning to navigate these times alone can stir up feelings of loneliness and fear, which can leave us feeling stuck and vulnerable. If any of this sounds familiar, we are here with you… you are not alone. If you have found a positive way through this, would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… When you lose the person who believes in you…

As part of my job, I teach several leadership classes. In one such class, we discuss being aware of how others view us using pictures of houses to drive the point home. For example, there is a picture of a “normal” home which represents our view of ourselves. Then, a home where the bushes need to be trimmed and the grass needs to be cut which represents the view of strangers we pass daily. Next is a picture of an unkempt backyard representing your neighbors who can “see it all,” this would be the view of your family and close friends. Then there are pictures of a run-down shack and a treehouse built without any planning representing those people who only see the bad or the quirkiness in us. Finally, there is a castle. This represents those people who only see the good in us… Those who think we are better than maybe we think we are… Those people who believe in us no matter what.

In my life, I have been blessed to have had two people who see me as a castle. The first one was a great influence throughout my childhood… He was my grandfather. He always called me “Little Bit,” and in his eyes, I could do no wrong. He only saw the good, and he always believed I would be successful at whatever I chose to do. Because of him, as a child, I really didn’t think there was anything I couldn’t do (which for my poor mother was not always a good thing… Ha-ha). I remember talking about my dreams and goals for my future and being told “you can’t do that” by others, but I never believed them. Instead, I always believed I could, because my “Pop” believed I could.

But as life would have it, this wonderful man passed away when I was 19. I was young, and this was my first real experience with death. I really don’t remember a lot about my grief or emotions when he passed. What I do know is this was the point where I started losing confidence in myself…

At the time, I was dating my first husband, and I truly thought he would be the one who would fill that “I-believe-in-you” spot. However, through the years, what I experienced was a man who would rave about how wonderful I was one moment, only to turn around and tell me how horrible and worthless I was the next. Since his actions backed up the negative words, those were what I started to believe as well. It didn’t take long to find myself lost in a world where my own worthiness felt non-existent. In fact, for years after we parted, I could still hear his voice in my mind telling me “the world would turn a lot easier if I weren’t on it.”

Then Bruce entered my life and change began to happen. He was a man of few words, and when he spoke, he meant what he said.

One day early in our marriage, I was having a rough day… I was struggling with my own feelings of self-doubt and unworthiness… especially of not being good enough for Bruce. When he sat beside me and asked what I was thinking, I told him I felt like I wasn’t good enough for him… that he had gotten “stuck” with someone else’s left-over trash.

Without a word, he took a piece of paper, crumbled it into a ball, then spread it back out and asked, “Like this?” I nodded with tears flowing down my cheeks. Then, he tore off a very small corner of the crumbled paper and taped it to the middle of a brand new clean piece of paper. He pointed at the small bit of crumbled paper and said, “When you look at yourself, this is all you see.” Then he pointed at the clean paper and went on, “But when I look at you, this is all I see.”

Only a few words and such a simple demonstration, but it hit home… At that point, I knew this man not only loved me, he believed in me… something I had not experienced in a very long time.

Knowing that, I became so much stronger throughout our marriage. My healing had started. However, for the healing to be complete, it couldn’t stop there. At this point, my self-worth was still based on what someone else thought of me… and that is a dangerous place to be…

When Bruce passed away, once again, I felt lost without his affirmations. Because my strength and value were not coming from my core, here I was doubting myself once again. Then in a series of conversations I had with a neighbor, I was repeatedly told I “wasn’t worthy” or “special in any way.” As maddening and frustrating as these conversations were at the time, they showed me I needed to re-shape my own opinion of me… I needed to take it on and own it myself…

This was and still is a daily challenge for me. I do miss hearing Bruce tell me he was proud of me, or that he thought I was amazing even when my accomplishment might seem trivial to the rest of the world. I miss the way even his eyes seemed to smile when I would ask, “Do you love me today?” and he would pull me into his arms and answer, “I love you every day.”

I am not talking about conceit or ego or pride – not at all. Instead, I am referring to an understanding that God created me and loves me just as I am in this moment… If He can do that, I believe I need to be willing to do the same.

Losing the person who believes in you is hard… So is learning to believe in yourself… But it is a battle worth fighting… and believe it or not, no matter who you are – you are worth it!

I am me.
I am the only me that will ever be.
God made me to be unique.
This is my life –
a gift just for me from God.
No one else can live it.
No one else really knows how I should live it.
God will show me.
God will be patient and guide my steps.
I am me.
I want to live the unique life God intended for me…
A unique gift…
for me…
from God.
~ Linda, Sept. 2013

For many of us, whether you are dealing with loss or not, finding our own worthiness can be a struggle. If you are dealing with the loss of the person who believed in you, how have you handled that? OR do you need some support in that area? Would you be willing to reach out… to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Celebrating Bruce

They say angels live among us… I believe that, because I was blessed to hold one in my arms…

Thursday, January 12… This was the 4th anniversary of Bruce’s death. I spent weeks dreading this day, while knowing there was no way to avoid it. For me, this day can never again be “just another day.” Plus, I am determined that he will not be forgotten, so I have built traditions around this day… which helps… These traditions leave me feeling that I have done something to honor this wonderful man who changed my whole world.

In past years, I have either spent this day completely in the company of others or entirely alone. This year, however, I found good a balance… some time with others and some time alone (with Bruce).

Three of us started the day in true “Bruce” style with a breakfast at Waffle House. From there, I went my own way to spend a few precious hours honoring Bruce my own way. Back at home, I lit candles and recited a few traditional prayers, as well as some prayers from Bruce’s Ash Ceremony years ago,…

“We cannot see, but we know, although the road ascends and passes from our sight, that there will be no night. We know that You have taken Bruce gently by the hand and now lead him along the road of life that never ends, and he will find it is not death but dawn. We do not doubt that You will hold him dear. We thank You for the faith that frees us, the love that knows it cannot lose its own and looking through the shadows, sees that You, Bruce and all who love him are always one.” ~ Prayer from Ash Ceremony

Then, I spent some quiet time, writing in my journal. With the business of the holidays, I found myself pushing my journaling time to the side. So, these few quiet moments were precious… To be able to sit in silence and get inside my own head for a while felt wonderful…

“Hi Babe! … How I wish you were still here! … How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to do another year without you? I miss you so much! I need you… Today is four years… Four years ago today, I was facing my first day as a widow… my first day alone. I was in so much shock. I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. The reality of what your death would really mean… what life would be like alone had not sunk in… It couldn’t until I experienced it. Now I sit here, looking back and looking ahead, and I feel lonely still. I love the memories – the fun we had, the twinkle in your eyes when you were teasing, the touches as we passed, laying in your arms as we slept or made love – each moment a sweet expression of our love and passion for each other… I miss it all!” ~ Linda, January 12, 2017

Afterward, I headed to the beach where Bruce’s ashes were scattered. With me, I took a Bali flower basket to place into the surf for Bruce… (And a little rum to share.) The baskets represent “giving back what has been given to you,”… And Bruce gave me so much. To make it personal, Bruce’s basket held flowers from both the store and the garden I planted in his honor, charms to represent Bruce – what he loved and his life’s attitude, a letter from me to him, incense to carry my prayers for Bruce to heaven and a few of his favorite quotes. I spent the next few hours (with Bruce) at the beach… remembering, laughing, crying… and sharing a little rum. It probably sounds so simple, but it was such precious time.

The next part of my remembrance brought me back home to work on the prayer flags. These flags are a Tibetan tradition made of brightly colored cloth and decorated with positive symbols and/or quotes. The flags are hung outside, where tradition holds that as the wind blows through them, the prayers and positive energy are carried throughout the world… Blessing all of us.

To start, I took down what remained of last year’s flags and burned them. This way their prayers and positive energy would still be carried on the wind throughout the world. Next, I hung this year’s flags which were painted and designed by several family members and me. The end result is absolutely beautiful and (as a blessing for me) hangs just outside my bedroom window. Now, each morning when I open my blinds, I am reminded of all the good Bruce brought into this world, and how his legacy goes on and on.

The next part of my day was new this year. However, because nature was in charge, I’m not sure it can become a yearly tradition. Let me back up and explain… My daughter, grandson and I have been working the past few months to help the Monarch butterfly population which is struggling. We planted milkweed for them, and had caterpillars almost right away. However, those first few caterpillars were quickly eaten by local wasps. With the second group of caterpillars, we decided to bring all six inside to see if we could raise their odds of survival. This meant replacing the milkweed leaves inside their butterfly cage every few hours to accommodate their voracious appetites, but it proved worthwhile.

On this special day, my grandson and I were blessed to release the first three butterflies in Bruce’s honor… It felt so right, as we watched them hesitate on our fingers before flying away… A beautiful reminder of the English proverb, “Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.” Such a simple creature… Yet such a beautiful symbol of courage and new life…

As night fell, we ended the day with one of Bruce’s specialties – something he loved to cook, and I (still) love to eat – cornbread and a bowl of Gumbo.

What a day! It was beautiful and memorable from start to finish… It all felt so right – filled with love and memories of the man who forever changed my world…

I love you, Babe… Always and forever!

“Now the work is left to us, his family, to carry forth the beauty and joy of that life which has been taken from us. Where we weep, Bruce would have us laugh. Where we mourn, Bruce would have us rejoice. But we know he will forgive us our grief, for to grieve is to love, to love is to cherish, and to cherish is to give praise and thanksgiving for the life which has blessed us all.” ~ Prayer from Ash Ceremony

For each of us dealing with loss, the anniversary of that loss is something we must deal with year after year. My hope in sharing my day is to offer an alternative to the normal grieving process we so easily find ourselves in. I can’t say that these traditions make the loss of Bruce easier to handle, but it provides me with a choice to celebrate his life and who he was… and I think he would like that.

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 be 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… Facing the anniversary of “that” day

Some days the pain is so great.
Some days it is too much.
But still I must put a smile on my face
And walk out to face the world.
I must pretend all is well.
But inside…
The pain is too much…
Too much…
~ Linda, Sept 2013

This week I am struggling. I can feel myself spiraling downward. In just a few short days, it will be “that day.” The anniversary of the day Bruce died… The day my world imploded in one quick moment. Already, I find myself feeling like I have been thrown back four years. All the pain and loneliness closing in, and I have no place “safe” to go…

I can still remember that night like it was yesterday… Waking up to find Bruce struggling to breathe… calling 911… doing CPR on the man I love terrified by what was happening. I remember the doctor coming in to tell me Bruce was gone… spending time with Bruce as we waiting for the medical examiner – touching him and begging him to open his eyes. I remember that last kiss good-bye that he never felt. I remember going home to an empty house and making phone calls to family and friends… But most of all, I remember being alone… totally and completely alone.

Here I am four years later, and despite having family here, when it comes to my grief and this week’s journey, I still feel completely alone. It’s no one’s fault, except maybe my own… the closer I get to “that” date, the more I find myself pulling inward and away from everyone around me.

I don’t want to face this anniversary again. I don’t want to “do” another year without Bruce!

Last night I had a dream… I dreamed Bruce and I were on the beach. It was beautiful, and we were so happy. Then, suddenly he was just gone! I kept looking everywhere for him. I was crying and felt so desperate, but he was nowhere to be found. I kept thinking I saw him. But each time when I touched the person and they turned to face me,… it wasn’t him. Then, my daughter appeared and started helping me look. She kept saying it would be okay… We would find him… But we didn’t – He was gone… I was completely devastated and woke up in tears.

Life in its cruelty
Gives us a gift of love,
But along with it
Comes an hourglass
Counting down the moments until it is gone.
~ Linda, Sept 2013

I know I am spiraling down this week. Nowadays I don’t usually give myself this much space to grieve, but this week I need it. However, I am walking a fine line because I also need to keep my head above water… and that is hard.

Earlier this week, my grandson and I were having a conversation. He was telling me that he was praying for something specific for his Mommy. I struggled here, not wanting him to think of God as a magic genie or to be disappointed if the answer to that prayer is “no.” I tried to explain that God’s answer may be “no,” but we need to have faith that he has something better in store. We need to ask, but then we need to let go and be willing to accept something different… something better in the long run.

But, here was my struggle with the whole conversation… It has been four long years since I lost Bruce. I have worked through a lot of emotions. I have been angry with God and made my peace… Yet, in spite of all I “know,” in spite of all my “good” days, I still grieve for Bruce at some point every day. He brought so much good and happiness into my world, and I miss him. I still want him back… So, do I trust that there is something “better” in store? Do I believe the very thing I am telling my grandson to believe?

I want to… but if I am honest, I don’t know…

I believe God (the universe or whatever name you choose to use) loves me. I believe there is some good to be found even in this loss… I have learned to be stronger that I ever thought possible. I have learned a lot about who I am as a person and my desire to serve others. I have struggled with my faith and came out on the other side with a much stronger faith that is completely mine. I have learned to be more accepting of others, their beliefs and their struggles. I have learned that people are what are truly important in this world… not just some of us, but all of us. I know that until we learn to love and respect each other and all our differences, this world will never find peace.

I guess I am saying, in the quiet of the last four years, I have been reflecting… and growing and changing… which is good. But, I learned all this at what cost? Did I really have to lose Bruce to learn these lessons? That is the part I struggle with… The idea that I don’t know… In fact, I’ll never know…

I just know I am sad this week… more so than usual. It will be four years on Thursday, and no matter what I have learned or what good I can find, I do know I would give it all back to have Bruce back again.

Another year alone;
A year of tears;
A year where no one cares.

Another year of smiling when I feel like crying.
A year of telling everyone it’s all okay.
A year when I feel abandoned.

Another year of going to bed alone.
A year of coming home to nothing.
A year without hugs or smiles.

Another year without love.
A year without laughter.
A year without you, Babe…
It feels like a lifetime.
~ Linda, Jan 2014

What about you? What have been your struggles when “that” anniversary approaches? Have you been able to find the good? Would you say the price of that “good” was too high? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

* 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.