grieve – Page 35 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… What do you do with “the stuff?”

From the very beginning, grief seems to be a constant battle concerning “what do I do about ____?” One could spend hours, maybe days filling in that blank. There are so many things that pop up, and immediately, you find yourself asking, “What do I do about that?” (Grief finds you so unprepared!)

I tend to be a research fanatic so even from the start I always went straight to my books or the internet looking for the “proper” answer… society’s answers. What would society tell me is the “right” response?… The “acceptable” behavior?

It’s funny, but nine times out of ten, my research would produce a “do-what’s-right-for-you” answer. That was reassuring, but the problem was this…

So many people in my life had not experienced loss like this yet and had not read the same research. They had their own ideas of what I should do. Up until a few months ago, that was devastating to me, because I wanted to be a “good widow” and do “what’s right.” But at the same time, I needed to be true to me… true to my heart.

Nowadays, I must admit, I don’t really care what society says is right or what someone else thinks I should do… I don’t really pay any attention or let it get to me. I appreciate that everyone has an opinion, but only because that means I do too… and mine is as valid as anyone else’s. In fact, I’ve come to realize that for me and my situation, mine is the only valid opinion.

For example, when Bruce passed away, he (obviously) left his “stuff” behind. He was a minimalist, so there wasn’t a lot, which only made those few items seem more precious to me.

In the first few weeks, I was too numb to even accept that he was gone. How could I even consider divvying up his belongings? I knew I wasn’t the only one grieving, and I knew others wanted something of his to remember him by, but I wasn’t ready… I couldn’t do it. People asked, and I said, “No.”

I wasn’t trying to be cruel or unfeeling. But, I had not come to terms with his death yet… There was a huge part of me that still expected him to walk through the door at any minute. How could I give away his stuff?

As I said, I did a lot of reading about what was the “right” thing to do. I found that some families actually went and cleared out the house without asking the widow(er) while they were out. Some people were okay with that; others were devastated. (I know myself… I would have been furious!) Thankfully, my family did not do this! (In fact, they never moved a single item without asking.)

Other widow(er)s came straight home from the funeral and packed up everything themselves. (But this was their choice, not someone else’s.) Still others left everything exactly as is for years, (even after remarrying). I knew none of those felt right for me. Then one day, I found a writer who said she had gone through things a little at a time, as she was ready.

Now, that was for me!

It took me months before I could actually start giving his things away with a loving heart and no regrets. The first few items went to his daughter, his parents and his sisters. Then, a few items to my kids and our grandson. After the one year mark, I knew I was ready to go through the rest of it and make some decisions.

I have a wonderful neighbor/friend who came and sat with me as I went through each item, one by one. She didn’t pick up things and take over, or tell me what to do… She was just there for support. If I asked about something, she would look at it objectively (with her expertise in antiques and collectibles) and give me an appraiser’s opinion. But she never told me what to do with it. She was just there to listen (as I shared memories), give me hugs and hand me tissues.

I spent a weekend going through everything of his. This may sound strange but there were a lot of boxes that I had never looked inside. Bruce was a very private man, and we had married later in life. So, I had always considered certain things private and respected that. I always felt that if and when he wanted to share the items in those boxes with me, he would.

But then he was gone… now, I had to do this myself. I must say that when I opened these boxes, I felt like I was invading his privacy on the one hand, and yet on the other hand, I was learning so much more about the man I love and what he thought was precious. In some ways, I was meeting a part of him for the first time… To say it was felt a bit strange would be an understatement.

“They” say, “Dead men don’t keep secrets.” (“They” aren’t kidding.) There were so many things about Bruce that made sense to me after going through these boxes… These boxes of things he found precious and important enought to keep. I had always loved him, but I came to understand him so much better.

By the end of the weekend, I had three piles… one to donate, one of specific items to give to specific people and one of items to keep. I placed several items on his dresser in our room as a memorial. It is still there today, and I look at these things each day… They remind me of everything that is Bruce. In the middle, there is a candle that I lit everyday for 2.5 years. (Currently, I only light it on special occasions… or when I just want to.)

T-shirts and jeans were his mode of dress. (He only owned one collared shirt… and no tie.) If we went somewhere that required more than a t-shirt, that was a formal occasion! So, I kept all of his t-shirts. Initially, I thought I would make a blanket from these. However, after three years, I find myself still sleeping in them… It is my way of feeling as if he is still holding me at night.

In addition, I kept his jacket and a couple of his favorite sweatshirts. (When I am having a “hard” day, I wear these to feel him close to me… It helps.) I also kept a few other items in a very small plastic bin. These are things such as his favorite hat, a uniform shirt, some personal items and the shoes he wore when we got married.

For the most part these items are just here… part of the backdrop of my life. But when I am having a rough day (or night), they bring me comfort. I can remember my grandmother doing the same at age 90+. I know some people may find these things strange, but I also know it’s all okay.

I know that I am doing the best I can each day… and that is good enough.

If you have experienced loss, you have probably been through this, too. This is our community, so please, share your story with us. Feel free also to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving a note.*

Maybe you did something different… There is no one right answer. Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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

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Peace, Love and Grief… Celebrating the dash between the dates

Tuesday, January 12… the 3 year anniversary of losing my Bruce… My hero, my gentle giant, my heart, my soul…

I spent days… no weeks… dreading this day. Knowing that this year I would be spending it on my own. I couldn’t say I was alone because there were a lot of people also grieving for Bruce. (He touched so many souls in his brief time here.) Also, there were a lot of people who offered their support if I needed them, and for that I am endlessly thankful.

The first year, I really didn’t know what to do. My sweet sister came, and we spent some time having a picnic at the beach… Then, a dinner of crab legs and champagne. It was nice, but in some way that I can’t explain, it just felt like it wasn’t enough. I just didn’t feel like it really celebrated Bruce.

Last year, two of my daughters were able to come and be with me for these days, which was a Godsend! As for the “celebration,” I knew I wanted to do something that I could carry on through the years whether I was alone or with others. I researched and came up with a few ideas. It worked… The day felt perfect; I had found a celebration tradition that felt right.

That brings me to this year…

I spent the day celebrating the dash between the dates… not mourning or focusing on that last date… the day my heart broke. I had already spent the previous days alone… meditating, writing in my journal, remembering, laughing, smiling, crying and preparing for this day.

I won’t lie. In some ways it was harder than I thought it would be and in other ways it was much better. (But, then again, isn’t that the way of grief?)

I woke up with the sun and set to work on a Bali flower basket for Bruce. These baskets of flowers are made to represent “giving back what has been given to you.” In Bruce’s basket, I included the following items:

⦁ Flowers – I’m not trying to be sassy here, but there were a lot of flowers to trim and arrange in the basket.
⦁ A flip flop charm as a token of Bruce, what he loved and his life’s attitude.
⦁ Rosemary because it is traditionally the herb of remembrance and love. (In fact, across cultures and time it has been used in funerals and burials.)
⦁ A letter from me to Bruce.
⦁ Two quotes: “Don’t die with your music still in you.” ~ Wayne Dyer and “If there’s a heaven for me, I’m sure it has a beach attached to it.” ~ Jimmy Buffet
⦁ Incense to carry my prayers for Bruce to heaven.

Once the basket was ready, I headed out to the beach – to an area that is in line with the area where Bruce’s ashes were scattered years ago. The weather was beautiful! With the breeze, it took a few minutes, but I lit the incense, and recited a reading and a prayer from his Memorial/ Ashes ceremony. Then, I placed the basket in the ocean and watched the waves take it…

Once it was gone, I toasted Bruce using one of his favorite drinks – a Jose Cuevo Margarita. (Following the “tradition” I have set on every special day for him, I “shared” most of it with him by pouring it into the waves.) I wasn’t in any hurry to leave, so I spent about an hour or so on the beach talking to my Babe – remembering so many fond times at that same beach… crying, laughing and meditating.

The next part of my celebration took me to one of Bruce’s favorite restaurants in our town. Yep – seafood! Now I will say that in the last few years, I have become quite accustomed to eating out alone… it is not a new or daunting experience for me anymore. However, when the hostess sat this lone widow at a huge table for 6+, I just laughed! (There were some awkward stares, but honestly, that doesn’t phase me!)

My bigger issue was what to order. Bruce’s very favorite was oysters but I developed an allergy to those years ago. So, I went for what was usually his second pick – Royal Reds (shrimp) with a sweet potato. : )

Once I was back home, I went to work on the prayer flags. This has been an on-going project throughout the holidays that included my kids, their partners, my grandson and myself. Prayer flags are a Tibetan tradition and are made of brightly colored cloth. These flags are decorated with positive symbols and/or quotes. The flags are, then, hung outside. Tradition holds that as the wind blows through the flags, the prayers and positive energy are carried throughout the world, blessing all of us.

As night fell, I dressed up for a special night of Jimmy Buffet tailgating. (Our favorite!) I lit all the candles and opened my present “from Bruce” – it was a bracelet with a charm that matches my memorial tattoo. Then, I spent the next few hours dancing and laughing the night away (with Bruce in my mind’s eye) while watching Jimmy Buffet – Live in Anguila.

Once the show was over, I wasn’t quite ready to call it a night. So, I listened to a few more CDs that were favorites of ours – Kenny Chesney and Rod Stewart, while I poured over photo albums and old letters and cards.

It was a beautiful day… a day filled with love and memories of the man who forever changed my life.

I love you, Babe… I am so blessed to celebrate your dash…

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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 losing Bruce easier to deal with, 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 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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and still wishing this was just a very bad dream…

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

the way I remember.

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… What do you do with the stocking?

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

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

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

Journal Entry – Dec 2, 2014

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

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

Journal Entry – Dec 3, 2014

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… What’s supposed to be and what is…

It still hurts
It’s so quiet here,
And I’m so alone.
I relive so many memories in my mind.
And for a moment, I can smile again.
Then, I breathe and open my eyes…
And once again, I am alone.
This sadness is never ending.
The pain can be unbearable.
Do you hear me when I call out to you?
I feel so horribly alone.
How long will this pain live inside me?
How long will I have to smile, when all I want to do is cry?
I find my self pulling ever further inward…
There is no one to understand.
They are not cruel…
They try… they care.
But they do not know how to comfort me…
They love me…
I love them…
But there is a chasm between them and me…
And another between me and you…
And it all hurts so bad.
~ Linda, November 4, 2015

Fall 2005 – Bruce and I had spent the entire summer together in Michigan. We already knew that we loved each other, but the summer showed us exactly how compatible and connected we were. As the summer ended, I went back to SC to teach. It didn’t take long, though, for us to realize that being apart was not going to work. However, we both had daughters in high school, and wanted to let them graduate before we did anything permanent.

Within a month of being home, I learned that I had lost everything. All the money I had invested with a family “friend” had been embezzled. I had 4 kids to take care of, an ex-husband who refused to pay child support, and a job that I loved but did not pay a livable wage… so without my investments there was not enough income. Bruce never hesitated. He wanted to move ahead with the marriage. I hesitated… I wanted us to get married because it was what WE wanted and WHEN we wanted it. He was quite convincing that it WAS what he wanted. I remember my mother telling me that it was a good thing… my kids would get the experience of witnessing a healthy marriage and having a loving male figure in their lives. For me, there was a knowing that the right thing was to stay on the path of love and happiness we were on… So, 2 weeks later, I agreed… I wanted it too…

There was Bruce… my hero… And he remained my hero from that day forward…

October came. I gave notice at my school, and we started planning for the move to Michigan. It all happened quite quickly. My oldest daughter had already graduated college and my second was away at college. My son was a senior in High School and already eighteen, so he moved in with his best friend’s family for the remainder of the school year. It was just my youngest daughter and I (and our cat) leaving. After two days, we arrived in Michigan late on Halloween night.

On November 9, 2005, (a Wednesday) at 3:30 PM at the county courthouse, Bruce and I were married. Because it all happened so quickly, the only people there were his parents, his daughter and my youngest daughter. I remember that it was a beautiful fall day. Afterward, we went back to the house for champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Then, dinner at a local restaurant. He had taken care of everything… I just had to show up. It was all so simple and so beautiful, and we were ecstatic…

(us immediately after the ceremony)

But…

It was not what we had originally planned. During the summer we had planned a beach wedding with both of our families beside us. Circumstances had changed that. But Bruce, always the hero, told me not to worry. For our ten year anniversary, we would have our beach wedding with everyone from both our families. It would be beautiful, and it would be special…

But that wasn’t meant to be.

This year would have been that tenth anniversary. Sadly, my hero didn’t make it that long.

This is my third anniversary without him, and (I think because it is the current one) it feels like the hardest. All week I have been thinking that I should be laughing… and happy… and planning a ten-year anniversary ceremony. Instead, I have been working hard not to twist reality into something it isn’t… It isn’t a punishment from God… It is just the cycle of life. I have wanted to reach out for help but I feel like I’m asking for more than anyone can handle. After all, it’s been almost 3 years now… How long does this go on?

The reality is losing a spouse is harder than one might think. This is the person you committed to love and share every intimate detail of your life with. So many people equate it with divorce, but it’s not even close. I’ve been divorced. It was hard too, but this is different. There are no choices with death. Also, with death, the relationship isn’t what died – it is only the physical connection that is cut off… the love is still there.

This week I have felt like I am back at square one… back in limbo – going through the motions of life as if I am in a dream – no purpose, no point… Like wondering through a dark house with no one to answer when you call out.

Last year I did a pretty good job celebrating the love we knew and not focusing on the sadness of loss. This year I plan to do the same. I will take a beer and some roses to the beach where Bruce’s ashes were scattered and spend some time with him. Then, I have reservations at the restaurant where we celebrated our last anniversary together.

Bruce was so excited to have found this tiny eclectic restaurant. He wouldn’t tell me where we were going, just that he knew I would love it… and I did. I remember on the way home I asked him if we could celebrate the rest of our anniversaries there. “Of course,” he smiled back… “Every one… from now on.” Two months later he was gone, but I do… I have returned every year to celebrate the love we shared. And every year, the restaurant staff is more than gracious to accommodate me… And I will celebrate “us” every year… from now on.

I am a little sad tonight (a few tears), and I think I will be sad tomorrow but that’s okay. It’s okay to feel what I feel… it is normal to be sad, and I will be okay… Mainly because of a conversation I had a couple of days ago. Someone I know was sharing a loss they had just experienced and stated that the worse part was the confusion and frustration that comes from having no choices in what happened. I would agree… (When Bruce died, I felt so angry and frustrated. I remember I told my friends “don’t let me become a bitter, angry, old woman… that’s not who I am or who I want to be.”)

Long after our conversation had ended, it dawned on me that one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned since Bruce died was born out of the love that we shared. It was Bruce’s legacy, and it is this:

None of us gets to choose what life tosses our way.
Our choice is:
“Can I love more today than yesterday, not despite what has happened,
but because what has happened.”
~ Linda, November 2015

How do you manage your big days? I would love to hear from you… Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Halloween…

For most of my life (until Bruce died), Christmas was always my favorite holiday. However, the season always started way before December… For me, Halloween has always marked the beginning of a season filled with several holidays, big events and continual fun and excitement with Christmas being the climax. To this day, I am so very thankful for the last holiday season Bruce and I shared.

This weekend was Halloween… As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, it is the start of what has been an emotional roller coaster since Bruce passed. But this year as I prepare for the holiday, I find I can look back and find things that make me smile….

I remember in Michigan, there were no Trick or Treaters. We lived in a second floor condo which required a code to enter the building. There were no children in the building except my (then) teenage daughter and no way for anyone to enter.

When we moved to another state, we lived in an apartment for the first year and with the exception of my grandson and a group of teenagers (who knocked on our door at 10 PM) no one came. Then, we moved to the house where I am now.

I knew there were a lot of children in the neighborhood, so I bought three huge bags of candy and tried to prep Bruce for what was probably coming. All he heard was “candy.” As soon as he realized it was hidden in the house somewhere, it was “game on”… He went hunting, and found it in the third place he looked. (He laughed as he told me that the fact that I am so short narrowed the hiding places down by more than half. Then, he just had to think of where there might be enough space for three huge bags.) Needless to say, by Halloween, I had to replace one of those bags.

That Halloween, he grouched every time the doorbell rang. I laughed and fussed at him for being a crabby, old man. The next year – our last Halloween – was so different, though. He was so excited. He LOVED answering the door and talking to all the kids (even the teenagers). He even jumped out and tried to scare a few. It was such a fun night.

Now looking back, I don’t know if he was just trying to enjoy Halloween or if he knew something was wrong and wanted to leave me with some fun memories. Either way – all I know is it was a such a wonderful night!

The first year without Bruce was a change… a huge change. Actually, it was a challenge that I wasn’t expecting. After all, Halloween is a kid’s holiday. It really isn’t about adults, and in all honestly, we had only had one really fun Halloween together.

But even that first year, according to my journal I recognized that this would be the start of a rough few months…

(Written the morning of 10/31/2013)

“The first of the holidays – this one always feels like the “kick-off” for the holiday season. I don’t really feel like celebrating but I did buy candy.

People don’t get it… they can’t. They can’t because they haven’t been here yet. I feel like everyone has this expectation that I should be a ‘good little widow’ and just be okay… whatever that is! Guess what… I’m not! I’m not okay! My brain doesn’t analyze or function the same way anymore. I don’t feel like “me” anymore.

The weird part is yesterday was actually okay. It was the first day this week I didn’t cry all day. Then I wake up this morning and I just feel pissed. I don’t think this will be a good day… not really looking forward to it – don’t really feel like festivities or anything like it.”

(Written the night of 10/31/2013)

“Halloween without you, Babe! Too hard!! I miss you!! I keep thinking about you answering the door last year and all the fun. This year is hard, though. I am listening to Jimmy Buffet and wishing you were here… Six kids so far and I am crying. Maybe I should just turn out the light and call it a night.
So sad… just so very sad…

What is – is… nothing I do will ever change it. I feel like I shouldn’t be here but I am… maybe one day I will understand why I am still here.

Just so you know, Babe… I went to the neighbor’s for chili and wine earlier tonight. They are so sweet and kind to me. I am blessed to have them here. In case you’re wondering, they are taking good care of me, Babe.”

And now this year…

This year I spent Halloween with my grandson, one of my daughters and my son-in-law.

(Written on Sunday 11/1/2015)

“Hi Babe… This weekend was really good for me. I couldn’t be with you but I was with people I love. I’m sure you would guess that we stayed very busy. Trick or Treating was pushed forward a day early since it was supposed to rain on Saturday. You would have loved watching our grandson… he was more excited about his costume and handing out the candy than actually going door to door to get any (which just cracks me up.) Afterward, there was an impromptu party back at D’s house. It sounds crazy but it was wonderful chaos – the house was filled with very tired but laughing adults and kids too excited to settle down.

Saturday included an Octoberfest at their school/church. You would have loved it – German food and beer. Their German potato salad was good (but not as good as yours!) You would be proud… I only teared up once… when the kids performed their Fall music program. I know you were there… I know you were watching… but I still wish I could have held your hand and seen your face. You and your “Boudreaux” had such a close connection, I know you would have been beaming with pride.

The night ended with a dinner party at a friend’s house. It was fun, and they made me feel so welcome. Usually I feel like a fifth wheel at those things, but I didn’t this time. I can’t say I like it but I am getting (more) used to going to parties without you by my side…

It wasn’t until the wee, dark hours of the night when I was actually alone with my thoughts that the tears fell. My emotions were a mix of melancholy, sadness, loneliness and (believe it or not)… guilt. I miss you so much, Babe, and the idea that I still managed to have fun, leaves me feeling guilty. Crazy, I know but that is what I felt. I wonder if that is normal? I wonder if that will be the emotion I struggle with this year?”

I don’t know the answer to that question, although I would guess it is normal. If there is anyone out there who knows or has been there, I would love to hear from you… I’m sure there are a lot of us that would to hear from you.

In the meantime, I need to breathe… I have 8 days to get myself emotionally prepared for the next big day.

How do YOU manage your big days? I would love to hear from you… Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Don’t look too far down the road

Alone
Alone… Is this a test?
I think I am failing.
I want to move past the sadness.
I want to find the blessings.
But every time I come back to
Being alone…
~ Linda, October 1, 2013

I have put off writing this week until the last minute (or what feels like the last minute). It’s not that I don’t know what to say… It’s that I have so much to say and I’m not sure how to say it in a way that makes sense.

This month starts a series of major days and holidays… all in a row – one on top of the next. It starts with Halloween, then moves to our anniversary, Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, New Years and the anniversary of Bruce’s death.

Anyone who has grieved deeply knows how hard the holidays and big events can be when you find yourself alone… no longer able to share those days with the person you have shared your life with for so long. The next few months will be an emotional roller coaster as I go from one event to the next… all without Bruce… for the third time. (Yes, I am still counting.)

The first year I ignored as many of these as possible. It hurt too much to imagine celebrating anything without Bruce. So, I hid and let the world do its thing while I pretended not to notice. You might be surprised but it was actually pretty easy to do. The world starts getting very busy this time of year… Most people don’t really notice when you choose to disappear from the craziness. I’m not sure if that is a good or a bad thing, but it sure helped that first year.

Last year, (my second year alone) I wanted to try to join the world… at least with my kids and my grandson. So, I joined them for as many of these days as possible and spent the rest with friends. The problem for me was the timing of everything… As soon as I got past one event, I had to mentally prepare for the next… There wasn’t a chance to heal or even breathe in between.

It was a relief to be a part of everything and not be alone. However, when it was all done, I was emotionally drained. I later listened to a recording taken at the end of that time period, and I didn’t even sound coherent. I was a mess, but I had done it! I had survived!

Thankfully, time is a kind friend, and this year has brought more healing and a stronger me. At least I thought I was stronger… until this week…
This year as Halloween approaches and the holiday commercials start to air on TV, I am faced once again with an overwhelming relay of events. All week I have had that inner dialogue going… I’m sure you know what I mean…

In my self-development seminars or when coaching individuals, I discuss that inner dialogue… That angel and devil thing we laugh at in cartoons. Why do we laugh? Because we have all experienced it at one time or another. For most of us, though, it isn’t necessarily a temptation thing – a good or evil thing.

Usually it presents itself as one “voice” that sounds more like, “Why bother?” “What’s the point?” “You’ll never be able to do that.” In other words, it is self-defeating. It is based on our fears, negative emotions, and low energy. It is not based in reality. It does not build resilience nor does it move us forward. In fact, it is happiest if we stay where we are or even take a few steps back.

Then, there is the other, kinder “voice.” It is encouraging. It is not based on our fears but on our passions, goals and facts. It is healthy and nurturing. Its purpose is to build resilience and help us move forward… To encourage us to live life – even if it is just one small step at a time.

This week the dialogue battling within me has been one of dreading the upcoming months, while realizing that all I really need to do is take life one day at a time – no more. It is when I try looking too far down the road that I become intimidated and question my ability to make it through.

I remember right after Bruce died… The idea of spending the rest of my life without him – alone – seemed very intimidating. Most days I didn’t even want to try… that road ahead looked never ending. It took me a while to tune out that self-defeating voice and start listening to that kinder, gentler voice that encouraged me to take one small step and then another.

In my family, the women seem live quite a long time so I figure I have another 50+/- years to go… without him. That is a long time. It can be quite daunting when I dwell on it too long. I am learning not to look that far down the road. I am learning to just breathe and take it one day at a time.

I am learning…

That is what I have been telling myself this week. I am still learning. It’s okay if I have a hard day or stumble a little. But I can’t let myself dwell on the upcoming months and everything they entail… That will be too much. It will overwhelm me. It will feel too hard, and I will spiral down.

Other than only taking one small step at a time, I’m not sure yet how I am going to do it. However, I do know, for me, that will be the only way to do this.

Walk through your fears..
~ Linda, October 15, 2013

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… A week of loss for all of us

“Suffering breaks our world like a tree struck by lightening – splintered, shaken, denuded – our world is broken by suffering, and we will never be the same again.”
~ Nathan Kollar

This week has actually been a good week for me personally. However, because it is life, there have been challenges. As I have watched the devastation in SC this week, (the place I call home), my heart has been broken. Years ago I lost everything material that I “owned.” However, my losses were due to my own choices in life… Choices of who to trust and/or who to allow control in my life. I had to take responsibility for those losses and learn from them.

My loss is completely different from what is happening in SC. These people are losing everything they own due to a natural disaster. The people of SC, including my family and friends, had no say in the matter. Their choices and goals quickly became all about survival… all about each other. Despite their personal losses, we have watched the people of SC reach out to each other unconditionally. Witnessing their resilience in the aftermath of such devastation has been amazing!

But that wasn’t all that was lost this week…

There have been 3 school shootings this week alone… Oregon, Arizona and Texas. Who can say why this has happened now and to these particular people? There are opinions, but no one really has an answer. The rest of us can only watch and wonder what is happening. I can’t help but cry as each time I see what we keep doing to each other.

Yes, I did mean to say “we keep doing to each other.” We are all connected to each other – like branches on a tree… that is why we all feel some sense of loss, as well. We all know, it could just as easily be any one of us. Someone we know or love could be the aggressor or the victim… We just don’t know.

According to the dictionary, sympathy means “I am able to feel sorry for you.” However, empathy means “I have been there – I understand.” Maybe I am wrong, but I can’t help but feel that those who have known loss before probably feel these events quite intensely, as well. The reaction is one of empathy… one of knowing due to experience. Maybe that is why I have cried… maybe that is why I have struggled this week even though it had nothing to do with my own loss… I still feel connected to these events.

I am sure that anyone old enough to understand the events of this week has also experienced loss of some kind. Maybe that is why we are all so stunned. It has been through our own experiences of love, happiness, loss and struggle that we learn.

And isn’t that what life is about… learning? It can simply be learning a better way to do things or learning how to be resilient. Then taking those lessons and using the best within us to reach out and help those around us. In other words, it is through these ups and downs that we are able, in times such as these to come together, reach outside our comfort zones and help someone else.

Today’s blog is not a political or religious message. It is a message about humanity. It is the reality that we are all connected to each other. If we choose to isolate ourselves or exclude others, then we cannot be our best… our strongest. We need to recognize that we are in this together.

We can argue the causes for the tragedies this week until the end of time. However, until we understand that all things and people are divinely created and the “connected-ness” of all creation to each other… Until we learn to live and treat each other with love and acceptance, we will continue to miss the point.

What is the point?

Our actions (whatever they are) are an open expression of our hearts. When that expression is love for each other, it becomes a completion of ourselves through honoring, nurturing, giving and sharing…

“Fill me with wonder and joy again, Father. Open my eyes to see your world as you want me to. Help me not to miss your fingerprints all over it.”
~ Virelle Kidder, Meet Me at the Well

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… The other side

… Show me I’m not alone.
~ Linda, February 14, 2014

This week was a little bit unusual for me. Call it a lesson or a reminder – whatever you call it doesn’t matter. What matters is I needed it… I needed to be reminded what it is like to be on the other side of loss. The side that is looking on; the side that wants to be supportive but isn’t quite sure how.

At the beginning of the week a friend of mine lost her daughter. My heart broke for her as she dealt with all those crazy emotions that make up grief… all the while trying to be “brave” for everyone around her. Why do we try so hard to hide that pain? Why do we feel the need to “protect” the world from something we will all experience at some point in our lives?… I don’t know, but we do.

In an effort to say something, I found myself wanting to say all those cliches that drive me so crazy. I may have even said one or two before I caught myself. How ridiculous is that? After all this time, I know better… but so many of those phrases are so ingrained in us. After all, this is what we’re “supposed” to say, right? And I wanted so badly to lift her pain – to make her feel better.

I found myself trying to convince her to feel better before I started actually listening to myself. Then I shut up because I remembered… I remembered what is was like to lose little baby Matthew and what is was like to lose Bruce. I remembered that all I wanted was someone to let me feel whatever I was feeling with no judgement or words. Someone willing to just be there… Someone to just listen or hold me while I cried.

A few days later I came across a scene on my way to work that shook me to my core. My drive is about an hour on a two lane highway through the marsh. As I came around a bend in the road, I saw several police cars, the County Coroner and a small sedan with the back passenger door open – all parked on the side of the road. There was no apparent crash or people. “Weird,” I thought. Then I saw something laying on the side of the road. Then I saw three of them… bodies (not even covered to protect them from the rain).

I have no idea who these people were or what transpired there. All I know is I started to cry… I cried for the people laying there. I cried for their families. I cried for the policemen and the men working this scene. But mostly I cried for all of us… for this world that can’t seem to figure out how to live in peace with one another.

Then there was today… I spent today with two men – George and Bob. I was working as a volunteer at an event for homeless vets. While this event is intended for our homeless veterans, no one is turned away. It is a one day event in which the homeless from several counties are offered food and clothing. On top of that, our homeless vets are offered such services as health screenings, job placement and benefits counseling.

As our homeless enter the event, a volunteer escort greets them. We spend the day with these men and women. We eat meals with them and help them find the services they need but most important, we are their friend… We talk to them and listen to their stories.

The first year I volunteered, it was a few months after Bruce died. I found myself wanting to do something for someone else… I wanted to forget about my own loss and spend some time focusing on someone else. I went with the intention of helping them… of making a change in their world. But every year, I find that I am the one that is blessed. I always know in my soul that I have gained so much more than I have given.

Today when I met George, he barely talked at first. In fact, the first thing he said to me (that was audible) was “I hate women.” I was a little surprised but not insulted. I just smiled and told him that if he would like we could go back to the front and find a gentleman to walk with him instead. It would be fine – it was no problem. “No,” he said. “I think I might like you okay.” Then he paused for minute and said, “It’s people I don’t trust… I haven’t really talked to anyone in about 10 years… You seem okay though… Maybe I won’t mind talking to you.”

So we sat down to breakfast and I listened. I listened to George tell me his life story. A story of how he had gone from being a Navy man, husband and father of three “beautiful” boys to the man he is now – a man who lives in a tent way back in the woods… alone.

He doesn’t beg for money. (He was very adamant about that.) Instead, he goes early in the morning (before the rest of the world is awake) to find money that people have dropped in the parking lots of bars. He says he can find anywhere from $1 – $10 a day. “People are clumsy after they have been drinking,” he told me. “They reach in their pockets for their keys and never notice when money falls out, too. I can usually find enough to buy some food.”

He was so proud to share pictures of his tent and his friends. His tent is extremely tidy and furnished. (It was like something out of Swiss Family Robinson.) His friends are the racoons and the cats in the area. He has named all of them and described each one and their personality. We talked all morning and on through lunch before he was ready to go back home.

It was then that he insisted on giving me a gift – one of the new items he had received today. I kept trying to explain that I didn’t need it. “I know that,” he said. “But I want to give it to you anyway…” Then, very quietly, “It’s my way of thanking you if that’s okay.”

I feel so blessed this evening as I write this. I know without a doubt that George and Bob were in my life today for a purpose… a purpose they will never know. Isn’t it that way for all of us? We never know whose life we are touching or affecting.

Whether we are the ones dealing with loss and being supported or the ones trying to offer support, it doesn’t matter. What matters is showing each other we are not alone.

It is the relationships and people in our lives that matter and make life worth living. Even if our words or actions come out wrong or clumsy, it is better than doing nothing. As long as we never lose our connections to one another – our relationships with each other – we can learn to lean on each other, support one another and survive our losses.

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Precious memories

Wishes and Memories

I dance with you in my mind.
You hold me next to you.
I feel your heartbeat and the strength of your arms.
As the music plays, we move gently and gracefully as one.
Then it ends with a kiss
As I wish for one more dance.

I laugh with you in my dreams.
I see your sweet smile and your kind gentle eyes.
I hear you start to chuckle.
Your smile grows.
Then you wink at me
As I wish for more laughter

I make love with you in my heart
I feel your strength and your gentleness.
Your compassion and love flow through me with every touch
And each sweet kiss.
We become one in that moment.
I lay in your arms as you hold me close;
Gently kissing my lips, my eyes, my fingertips
As I wish for one more loving moment with you.

One more dance.
One more laugh.
One more chance to love you.

Then, I realize…
these moments are always with me.

~ Linda, September 14, 2013

Growing up I can remember my grandmother always referring to her “precious memories.” She always had a story about her boys or one of us – the grandchildren… and later her great-grands. She would smile, tell the story and always end it with a sigh and the words – “another one of my precious memories.” After my grandfather died, she would sit wearing his sweater for comfort and talk about her “precious memories” of the man who had shared her life and her soul for most of her life.

Now, I find myself understanding more and more what her life was like after my grandfather died and just how precious those memories are.

When Bruce first died, I was terrified I would forget something. It was so important not to forget anything. I felt like that would be the same as breaking a promise or being disloyal to him in someway. I wanted to remember every story and every detail. For example, the way his eyes twinkled when he had pulled one over on me and was waiting for me to catch on, or the way he would come up behind me in the kitchen and hug me from behind as he kissed my neck and watched me cook.

Such precious, precious memories…

In the first few years, I did a lot of things to “save” those memories… and don’t get me wrong – I am so glad I did. I did (and still do) a lot of writing. Whenever I remember a story, I write it down. I also took every email, note and card that I could find, put them in order and placed them in an album. I love reading those messages and remembering the feelings and stories surrounding each one. I have photo albums from pre-us (birth – mid 40s) up to just days before he died. I even kept his cell phone because it still has the last 2 weeks’ worth of text messages between us.

Preserving these memories was quite cathartic for me. I tried to be as creative as possible since that has always been my outlet in some form. Plus, it gave me something to do that kept me busy and felt important. Now I know, it was important and I am so glad I did it.

For a long time, though, it was hard to read or look at any of these without crying and spiraling down emotionally. Sometimes, I wondered if I was crazy. I wanted to read them. I wanted to remember. More important, I wanted to feel comfort from them. But instead, each time I found myself crying… Crying because I miss him… Crying for all that was lost… Crying because there would be no more “new” precious memories to fill these books. I couldn’t make it through more than a few pages without falling completely apart.

In my anxiety and struggle to remember, I was so caught up in the details that I found myself forgetting the joy that went with those memories… and that is the part that made them so precious. What I didn’t realize was the fact that because I love Bruce, the memories will be there. It was the love between our two souls that created those precious memories – not what time of day it was or the exact words we spoke.

But time and God have been on my side. I have learned to read these only while I can manage to smile. If I start to cry, I take a breath to see if I am spiraling down or smiling through the tears.

If I am crying without a smile, I stop. I know from experience that to continue will not be good for me at that moment. I know that I am focusing on the wrong things… the negative things… the concrete physical things that are gone. I know that the anger and distrust will follow if I don’t turn it around.

However, if I am still smiling through the tears, then I know I am okay. I may be sad but I am still thankful for that memory and that precious moment in time. I am focused on the love, joy and blessings that created our relationship.

That is my goal now… learning how to handle the memories… to appreciate those moments. I won’t lie, I wish Bruce were still here, but that can’t be. Instead I am growing and learning … Learning that as long as I have those “precious memories,” I will always have a part of Bruce in my heart and in my soul…

And I can never forget that…

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

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

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