Tag: peace

Peace, Love and Grief… Thoughts for Today

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

However, here is my honest confession…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 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… The Way Things Are

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 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… Night Time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 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… Walking Through the Valley

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 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… Grateful?

“There is a great richness in your daily life, just as it is, waiting for you to celebrate it… Give yourself a reminder to be thankful. Create a sign that reads, ‘I am grateful for this moment.” ~ Miriam Hathaway, Simply Grateful: A Journal to Reflect on the Good Things in Life

Over the past month or so, I have shared my latest twist in this life journey – my breast cancer diagnosis. It came as quite a shock since the only risk factor I have is the fact that I am female. So, I guess, I should also admit, it made me angry. For most of my life, I have taken care of myself – exercised, eaten right, didn’t over-indulge. The idea (okay, reality) that I have breast cancer seemed so wrong! And to have to do it without Bruce here – to feel like I was facing it alone – just seemed even worse.

I kept reading all these articles and blogs about people who learned some “great spiritual truth” because of their bout with cancer. When I confided my fear with someone else who had gone through cancer alone, they told me they had nothing but “good days and better days” throughout their journey. (Seriously??) Then, to top it off, I was constantly being told, “You will be fine… Just stay positive.”

I know it is good to be positive. I know my own thoughts create my experience. I know how to “fake it till I make it.” But to be honest… I also need to be able to feel all my feelings… And not all of my feelings are positive ones… That is my truth.

So, I was mad about the diagnosis, scared about the treatment, struggling to find a doctor I trusted and terrified to do this without Bruce. I (finally) found a cancer center with fabulous care. But, I had no choice about the rest – I just had to keep moving forward.

About a week before my surgery, I received a package from my team at work. We are scattered all over the U.S., so it took a lot of coordination, determination, and caring for them to get this together. It was a “care bag” for me to take to my treatments. It included all kinds of things, such as a blanket, coloring book, lotion, lip balm, etc… But the thing that terrified me was a journal.

I know… That’s kind of weird because I have been journaling since Bruce died. I love doing it! Journaling has been some of the best healing therapy I have experienced (and it’s free). But this particular journal was entitled, “Simply Grateful: A Journal to Reflect on the Good Things in Life.”

Hmmm… grateful? Can’t say I was feeling any of that!

So, when I packed up to leave for my surgery, I took my care bag without the journal. Then… at the last minute, I threw it back in. Who knew? Maybe all these positive life lessons would “hit me,” and I’d be ready to write.

Let me just say… That didn’t happen either.

Instead, I returned home after a couple of days, feeling tired, in pain and frustrated with how everything looked… In my journal, I wrote:

“Hi Babe! I did it! I was terrified, but I did it. The pain isn’t too bad, I guess (still taking pain meds though)… I don’t know what I expected, but I’m exhausted. It hurts when I touch it or move around too much, but I can handle that part. The hard part is how it looks. (I know, I’m being vain.) But I don’t think I would even want you to see this… I can’t even stand to look at myself. I know I need to give it time – time to heal – but I HATE it! I hate the way it looks. I know it could be worse, but that doesn’t make this good…. But, I guess, this is my body… It is what it is… I can’t change it, and I can’t fix it… For the first time since you died, I’m glad you’re not here – not here to see this… to see me.”

Nope… Grateful was not what I was feeling.

However, within a few days, as the entirety of what has happened, and the outcome of the surgery began to dawn on me, I realized I needed to pull myself out of this… But how? Then, I remembered… I went to my bag and dug deep… There it was – tucked in the bottom – that “crazy” Simply Grateful journal.

I opened it up and on the first journaling page it read, “Today, I am grateful for….” Followed by three blank pages. Then, one line, “’You are only one thought away from a good feeling.’ ~ Sheila Krystal” So, I started writing – listing each thing I could think of to be grateful for. Before I knew it, I had managed to fill a whole page. Three days later, I came back and filled another one. And a few more days after that, I filled the third.

There were things to be grateful for… I just had to look around… look up… I had to make myself stop looking at all that was wrong and start looking at all that was right. I won’t say it is easy… At least, it hasn’t been for me. I’m still a bit pissed about this whole thing… And it still hurts… And I’m still tired and bruised and swollen… and (I must remind myself) healing. Then, I also remind myself, there are a lot of women who haven’t gotten this far… I am one of the really lucky ones.

So far, this is where I am: I haven’t learned any great, spiritual truths… Nor am I positive all the time. I’m just me… feeling what I feel and working to remain grateful for what is…

Friday:
“Hi Babe! Doing a little better each day… It is not healing as quickly as I anticipated – still sore, bruised and tired. I cry for you (a lot)… I still miss you so much… This breast cancer thing is hard and scary without you. Sorry, I’m trying so hard to stay up… Stay positive… but some days are harder than others. So, I’m working on being grateful for what is… Grateful for each moment… Because, after all, that’s all we’ve really got.”

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. Sometimes new trauma is that much harder to handle simply because they aren’t beside us… It can feel lonely and overwhelming. That is how I have felt since being diagnosed with cancer. I know my thoughts create my experience, so I am working to keep those positive. But then again, life isn’t just positive stuff… Sometimes it is made up of stuff we would rather not face – losing Bruce, this cancer thing… I just need to remember – I am not alone… and neither are you.

Maybe something in this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have experienced something similar. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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… Looking for Signs

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

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

One of the first signs I recognized was pelicans…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 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 Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day!

I used to hate those words… After the dysfunction and violence of my first marriage, I carried way too much guilt to feel like I should be celebrated at all. My kids had to deal with so much crap – so much stuff children should never know even exists in this world. I couldn’t bear the idea of any of them telling me “thank you” for their childhood or for being their mom.

This has been a struggle for me for years… They disagree. For whatever reason, they seem to understand what made me stay in that marriage for so long. AND they stood strong when we left, as well as, through the years as we learned (as a team) how to survive… In other words, my kids are amazing! They are the reason I can toast the day and still smile.

But when I look back, the first Mother’s Day with Bruce is another that will always stand out…

We had only known each other a little over a year and had only been married for a few months. I had absolutely no expectations for the day. After all, I wasn’t his mother or the mother of his child. Yes, when he married me, that was a package deal which included my children, but all of them were over 18, except my youngest. She was the only one that lived with us (the other three were still in SC)… And at the time, my youngest wasn’t very happy about any of that.

I remember waking up that Sunday morning, and the sun was shining in Michigan – something we hadn’t seen in months. As we lay in the bed snuggling, he reached over the edge and produced a small card which he handed to me with a mischievous grin. I remember handing it back and saying, “Don’t.” But he wasn’t having any of that.

I protested and said, “You don’t have to do this… My being a mother has nothing to do with you.” To which he replied, “You being a mother is a huge part of who you are, and that has everything to do with me. I will always celebrate who you are, because I love you… And that means all of you.”

I remember the card talked about his love for me and my love for my kids. I remember crying so hard as I tried to read it, he ended up reading it to me. Inside, were three tickets to go see The Phantom of the Opera that afternoon (Me, Bruce and my youngest daughter) … TICKETS? To the Opera?? From Bruce???

Now, I need to back up a bit… Bruce made no pretense about nor did he apologize for) who he was. He as a truck driver who loved body building/working out, Jimmy Buffet, football and hockey. He was not a fan of the theater, especially musicals or opera. The idea that a man had gone outside of his own comfort zone to give me (and participate in) something that was solely about me was something I had never experienced before.

I remember being skeptical – Would he really go? Was he going to take me but spend the whole time pouting or acting miserable because it really wasn’t anything he wanted to do?

No… True to who he was, it was the most wonderful afternoon! He made it a true event – Nothing was off limits… And to top it all off, he swore he loved and enjoyed it, as well! Whether that last part was really true or not, I’ll never know. He always swore it was, and that is all I have to go on.

Every year after that, Bruce always made a point to celebrate me on Mother’s Day. It didn’t matter where we were or what life had thrown our way, he always made sure we spent the day doing something I loved.

When he passed, that first Mother’s Day was hard. I didn’t want to celebrate… I found myself going back to those feelings of guilt about my children’s past. But I must say, my kids wouldn’t have it. They did and continue to make this day a special one…

And this year was no different…

While I find myself contemplating the idea that this could be my last Mother’s Day, I also know it could one of many more to come… We don’t know… Life will have its own way, and all we can do is go along for the ride. I can’t change what was or what is ahead. I can only live this moment and be thankful for what it is…

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. There are pieces of our past we might change if we could. But, since we can’t we can either allow ourselves to get caught up in the parts we don’t like or choose to find moments in the past worth celebrating. Bruce taught me to celebrate and let the rest go… We don’t need to always be happy, and it’s okay to feel what we feel and be who we are… This is how life was meant to be – learning to let go of what feels wrong and celebrating the good.

These are only my thoughts and reactions this week as I celebrate this day without Bruce. Maybe something in this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have struggled something similar. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

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… Please, Don’t Say That

There is a place within each of us that is the source of our life – it’s the well, the tank, the engine, the overflow in our soul that we live from. In the wisdom of Proverbs, it’s the place in our being where the waters run deep. Sometimes this place is overflowing with life, and sometimes it feels drained and empty.
~ Rob Bell, How to Be Here

When I read it, this quote struck such a chord with me… It’s so true. Life ebbs and flows… Sometimes it is wonderful and other times… Well, it just isn’t. There are times when I am so happy, I think my smile and euphoria could create a life of their own, and there are other times when I am so empty and sad, I can’t see from this moment to the next.

This has been true throughout my life, as I am sure it has been in yours. We all have the choice to feel what we feel or to push those feelings down and pretend they aren’t there… And to be honest, I believe, there are appropriate times for both. The problem comes when my choice makes others uncomfortable… The strange thing is this only seems to occur when my feelings are sad or empty…

For example, when Bruce passed away, my whole world crumbled. It felt as if I had imploded, and I struggled to find myself… Mere survival took all my energy. At first, people were understanding. However, learning to live with grief takes time, and that is where the struggle takes place. So many people have felt the need to “fix” it… To “fix” me. They want to tell me what I need to do to get “better,” which eventually becomes some form of “get over it.” That was really hard at first. Now, I know they meant well. Now, I understand their need to cheer me up. Now, I really do know their hearts were (and are) in the right place.

The problem was I didn’t know that then. I only knew what I needed… I needed people who were willing to simple sit and “be” with me. I needed someone to be okay with tears and listening to stories of Bruce that made me smile.

The words “get over it” were an impossibility… The idea that it was that simple seemed like an implication that there was something wrong with me. While it wasn’t meant to be, it felt judgmental… It wasn’t helpful… It would shut me down.

Over the years, I still get that response occasionally when I mention Bruce in conversation, or if someone feels I’m not doing something with my life which they feel would be “normal.” Honestly, that doesn’t bother me as much anymore… Because usually I just smile (and ignore it).

It’s funny, though, since I’ve been diagnosed with cancer, I find myself struggling (grieving in a way), for what is… and what isn’t… At this point, I really am “looking for butterflies,” but that doesn’t take away the reality of the cancer… And the reality is – I’m scared.

There are days when I feel okay… I am thankful for the day and each moment in it. But there are also days when the fear is overwhelming… I have to work at keeping my fears to myself… I have to work at “looking for the butterflies.” But, I think that is natural… and okay.

The crazy part came this week, when my doctor said to me, “Are you really okay? You can be frank with me… I don’t mind.” So, I was… I didn’t have a total melt-down, but there were tears and I talked about how I was really feeling… It felt good to talk about it… It even felt good to let myself cry.

Then came those words… The words that can still shut me up faster than anything… “You need to get over all that.”

I couldn’t believe it! Seriously? How could she say, “tell me” and then respond like that? But then she went on… “When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, that is what my husband told me… He was trying to help… He meant well… But it wasn’t very helpful.”

It took me a moment to realize she understood… She really understood… She went on to tell me it was okay to feel what I feel… And she would sit there with me all day and talk about it, if that was what I wanted.

WHAT A DIFFERENCE! What a blessing… and exactly when I needed it! To have someone tell me, it’s okay to be scared… It’s okay to cry… And it’s okay to not be okay right now (and maybe be okay later)… It’s all okay.

That is what makes life – life. It is what creates the flavors of life… It is what makes life real and genuine… Because when we allow ourselves the sad times, we are better able to appreciate the good times.

For a painting to truly reflect life, it must include the shadows… Otherwise, the painting will be stilted and awkward… Only a poor image of the beauty available. To live our life, we must learn to accept the shadows; not strive to control them. Let go… then the true beauty of your life will be found.
~Linda, October 2013

Everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way. We don’t need to always be happy, nor do we need to stay where we are empty… It is okay to feel what we feel and be who we are… This is how life was meant to be – learning to live with the good and the bad.

These are only my thoughts and reactions this week as I try to adapt to this whole cancer thing, (while wishing Bruce were here to give me strength and support). Maybe something in this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have struggled something similar. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

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… Don’t be Scared to Wear the Perfume

Because this day is all we have.
We are celebrating.
This morning.
We have this morning.
That’s it.
~ Rob Bell, How to Be Here

If there is one thing I learned when Bruce died, it was this simple truth – This moment is all we really have… Even the next moment is not guaranteed.

This was so true for us. That Friday was like any other one. We kissed good-by in the morning and went to our respective jobs. I picked up Chinese food on my way home from work, but since he was held up at work, I ate without him. When he finally got home, I skipped to the door and met him with a hug and kiss… (The best part of the day from my point of view.)

By that point, it was late. We were both tired, but that didn’t matter… We still sat together as he ate his dinner and talked about what we wanted to do for the weekend. It was January, but the weather was still warm. So, there we were trying to decide between the beach, the boat or the kayaks… Bruce, always so easy-going, just laughed and said, “Whatever you want… As long as we’re together and near the water is all I need.”

As we fell asleep laying in each other’s’ arms, I was busy worrying about “who knows what.” I will always remember that last kiss on the top of my head as he held me closer and said, “Stop worrying… Everything’s going to be okay… It always is.”

Just a few short hours later, I woke up. Still snuggled up against his warmth, I thought at first, he was snoring. Then, I thought he was having a bad dream… It took a few moments before I realized he was in trouble… and the nightmare began.

We went from laughter and snuggles to the somberness of death in a matter of a few short hours… How does that happen? I had never thought this would be our future. We were both healthy. (I thought.) We were both into fitness and eating right… I thought we would grow old together…. I never imagined anything else.

But, I learned quite quickly that life doesn’t come with any promises… It just isn’t that way… To put is simply – sometimes life just isn’t fair.

So, now I find myself fighting my own body… I am trying to stay positive, but I find myself struggling with the idea that my own body is trying to kill me…

This week as I was fighting the depression that wants to take up residence in my mind, I thought about the words above from Rob Bell. Hmmm… This morning… Do I want to really live it? Or am I going to sit and worry about what may (or may not) happen? I can’t control the second option… I can control the first.

“So,” I thought, “what would I love to do with this day? Where do I find the simple pleasures… The things that make me smile without any effort?”

At first, nothing came to mind. However, as I was getting showered and dressed, I realized something. It was a simple thing. One of those things most people might think wouldn’t even matter… But it matters to me…

I have a bottle of perfume that is my favorite. However, these days, it is almost impossible to find, so I rarely wear it. Instead, I tell myself I am “saving it.” … For what?? For a better day? For something important? That’s silly! So, I’m sure you can guess what I did… I wore the perfume! I decided if it runs out, and I can’t find more – so be it. I can’t enjoy it in the bottle, so I am going to enjoy it now.

… Just like this day! … And just like this moment!

Tomorrow isn’t promised, but this moment is… And if that is all I am promised, then I want to live this moment in such a way that makes me smile. Why? Because when my last moment comes (whether it is sooner or later), I want two things… I want to know I didn’t waste a moment… I lived each moment for what it is – sad, happy, whatever… savoring the different flavors that make up this life… And (when the time comes) for those I love to remember me living each moment as it is offered – genuine and full.

Everyone deals with loss and grief in their own way. For some of us, it is easy to become cautious and live life sitting on the sidelines – observing more than living. However, that was never me before Bruce died, and I don’t want it to be me now either. These are only my thoughts and reactions this week as I try to adapt to this whole cancer thing.

Maybe something in this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have struggled something similar. If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

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.