Peace, Love and Grief… Where It All Started

In each breeze,
let me feel your touch.
In each sunrise,
Let me experience your joy.
In each storm,
Let me feel your strength.
In the quiet,
Let me hear your voice telling me…
All is well…
Each moment was planned.
Each smile was for me.
And your acceptance of life as it is
was your gift to help me through this storm.
I loved you
And even now, you love me.
~ Linda, September 2013

When I started this blog years ago, I had a dual purpose. One was to create a virtual community of support for anyone suffering loss. The other was to help those around us understand how best to offer support. Those first few weeks (and months) there were only a few of us here… Now, there are many of us here… Members of a club we would rather not belong to.

Many of you have shared your stories with me privately and a few publicly… It has been over two years since I shared my own story… My own start on this journey which has changed my life… This is where it all started…

Today’s story is about Bruce’s death and cremation, and the questions that followed it – mine and others. I don’t belittle the hurt others felt or the idea that someone else may have made different choices. (Of course, they would.) But this is my story…

My hope is that by being honest, we can move away from the idea that grief is something we need to “do right” and replace it with the realization that it is a process. A process that requires the griever to live and bargain with each moment as it comes… none of it is easy or rational. It is a moment by moment journey and we do the best we can in each moment…

It was Friday night, January 11, 2013. I worked late but still managed to beat Bruce home. I arrived at 6:30 PM with Chinese food to share for dinner. (It took several years before I could eat Chinese food, again. Even now, it is not on my list of go-to dinner choices.) Bruce got home around 8… He had worked another long, 15-hour day and was exhausted.

I remember being so excited to see him… I ran to the door to greet him and take his cooler. He said he was too tired to eat much so he just had a little soup. I sat with him while he ate, and we talked about our plans for the weekend – kayaking or the beach? We laughed because we both knew it didn’t really matter – just being together and near the water would be wonderful.

When we went to bed, I was fretting about something… I was the worrier, and Bruce was always so chill. We used to joke that he was Pooh Bear (with a beer not a honey pot), and I was Piglet (the tiny worrier). I remember hearing him chuckle as he kissed my forehead, pulled me close and we snuggled into bed.

A few short hours later, I woke up. I was still in his arms, but he sounded like he was having a nightmare. I tried to wake him. I called his name and shook him over and over. Suddenly, he seized up, and collapsed. I was terrified. I called 911 and started CPR. Although the 911 operator was talking to me the whole time, my mind seemed frozen… It all felt like a dream… This couldn’t be really happening… It couldn’t!

Within moments, EMS was here and took over. They tried everything – a breathing bag, an Epi-pen and the “paddles”… but the line on the monitor stayed flat. I watched silently from the bedroom door, but inside my head I was screaming for him to come back… but I knew. No one said a word… but we all knew. The responders kept doing CPR, but there were no more “tricks” in their bag, and there was no longer any sense of urgency. Instead, they waited (actually waited) until a police officer came to drive me to the hospital. Then, with no sirens and no one beside me, we made our way to the ER. It was so surreal…

It was my worst nightmare, and I couldn’t wake up…

Once at the hospital, they put me in a “consultation room” where I sat… alone. The next few minutes were the longest of my life, as I sat there… waiting… Finally, the door opened and a doctor came in to tell me what I already knew. I remember just sitting there… I’m pretty sure I was crying (because I remember having a tissue in my hand), but there was not anyone to hold me and tell me it would be okay… not anymore…

My hero was gone…

I was led to a room where Bruce lay on a gurney… so still… Too still. All the machines and equipment had been turned off, but the remnants of their efforts were still all around us. I was allowed to stay with him until the Medical Examiner came. I remember stroking his face, his hair and his whiskers. I remember kissing his cheek and begging him to open his eyes. I remember thinking this whole thing was impossible! This could not be real… Surely, he was going to open his eyes at any moment and say, “Gotcha!”

But he didn’t… This was all too real…

I remember telling him how much I love him… and I remember crying. There was no one… I was completely alone, and I knew deep inside that was how it would be from now on. When the Medical Examiner’s office came and took him away, the police officer drove me back home.

I was so numb and confused. It just didn’t seem real… How could this be? How could This wonderful man be gone? This man who loved me with no conditions… just complete and total love. How could a loving God take that away? How could Bruce really be gone? It seemed so wrong… so impossible.

I remember I started calling people. It was 3 AM, but I didn’t know what else to do. I remember calling his parents, my parents, our siblings and our children. I even remember calling his boss and a couple of close friends. Then, I spent the next few hours cleaning the house and preparing for everyone to arrive.

The next few days are a blur. I can remember some things but not a lot. I was in such complete shock. The main thing I remember was how I had to concentrate just to breathe… Life just seemed to stop for me, and I wanted to the world to stop too… I wanted to get off… This was too much!

Within a couple of weeks, everyone had gone back home. As for me, I hadn’t come to terms with any of it yet. It felt like I wasn’t even breathing again… but they had lives and homes and families to get back to… they couldn’t stay forever… I would have to figure this out on my own.

I remember thinking I had to be strong and brave so Bruce would be proud. I wanted to do this widow thing “right.” I had to do what I remembered he had wanted. During those last few months, there had been a few conversations about death and what we wanted. There wasn’t a lot he was picky about, but I remember he always said that he did not want a viewing or a big funeral. (He hated being the center of attention.) He wanted to be cremated and to have his ashes scattered in the ocean. He was quite adamant that he did not want to end up on a shelf somewhere. So that was my plan. I had no idea what I was doing and there was no one to guide me… but I was going to give it my all.

Two weeks later the funeral home called, and I went to pick up his ashes. I’m not sure what I expected, but here is what happened… First, they tried to give me the wrong ashes. Then, they put them in a plastic bag – like the kind you get at the grocery store. I was so appalled. Were they kidding me?! This was a man… He was my husband… He was my soul. I remember crying all the way home. Once here, I lit a candle in front of the container and simply sat vigil for the next 24 hours. How could such a wonderful man be inside such a small container? It was too much to comprehend.

The next day, I started making plans… I couldn’t sit here forever. I wanted to follow his wishes, but I also wanted to honor him. The memorial was held a few months later – on his birthday at sunrise. As much as I wanted to, I did not keep any ashes, nor did I give any away. I wasn’t trying to be cruel or unkind to anyone. I was merely trying to do what Bruce had wanted. He was my world; my allegiance was to him, and I needed to do this right. Thankfully, his family was understanding and supported me completely in following Bruce’s wishes.

On the day of the memorial, it was supposed to rain… but it didn’t. It was beautiful. At sunrise, my son took Bruce’s ashes out in the kayak past the breakers and scattered them. The memorial and brunch were perfectly “Bruce,” and I know he was smiling. Saying goodbye was one of the hardest things I have ever done. It hurt so bad… In fact, it still hurts…

However, I am so proud of this man and what he added to this world and my life… The legacy he left behind is one of unconditional love and acceptance. He was truly amazing…

And he was my hero… Always and forever…

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… The beginning of this journey is the hardest. There are no instructions and most of us have no idea what to do. We all move through this journey at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are not alone. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Grieving Differently

(To my own family – This is not a rant or accusation. It was driven by observing my own behaviors. Please know I am so sorry for any pain or hurt I have caused… I am so thankful for each of you and love you more than I can possibly express here!)

Everyone grieves differently… We have all heard that. Yet, knowing it and living it can be two different things… As with most experiences in life, we all approach grief from a different angle, because we are different. Even people in the same family will approach grief differently, and sometimes that is the hardest – to allow those we love to experience grief in a different manner from our own.

When you lose someone you love, everything you read and hear tells you to find support. For many of us, there is the assumption that our family will be the best space to find that support. And in some ways, that is true… But in other ways, the fact that we are family can actually make supporting each other harder.

Keep in mind, if it is a situation where everyone is grieving the same loss… the same person, then everyone is hurting… Everyone is looking for support and trying to make sense of something that quite frankly, may not ever make sense. Maybe we are so caught up in our own pain, that we forget to leave space for understanding and compromise towards those we love most. Instead, there can be an underlying feeling that we should all be grieving in the same way and healing at the same pace…

But we don’t. Even in the same family, we have different personalities and life experiences… And despite being in the same family, we are each grieving the loss of a different relationship.

This is not a rant… I am referring to all of us… myself especially. For if I am honest, I must admit I have felt this way, too. As with everything else in grief, this part of the journey is a roller coaster, too… Not always one way, yet not always the other way either. There are days when I can easily be the one offering support and able to listen. While I may not completely understand what someone else is thinking and feeling, I can empathize and recognize their grief as being just as legitimate as my own.

Yet, there are just as many days when I want to scream and yell that I am hurting, too – and in that moment, my pain feels worse than anyone else’s possibly could. Sometimes, I want to roll my eyes and stomp my feet and walk away. I don’t want to listen… I want to be heard. I don’t want to be understanding… I want to be understood.

I am embarrassed… All of this is hard to admit, but I promised when I started this to be honest here… To share my experiences as they happen.

From what I have read, heard and experienced, while we will usually allow other people the space they need to grieve, families tend to expect each other to grieve in a similar fashion… For whatever reason, we tend to be less patient with each other, and that can create a truly volatile atmosphere which has the potential to be damaging to everyone.

“Lastly, family members will need to understand that while their closeness may be supportive in their grief, it also can make them likely to displace blame, anger, and other hostile feelings onto one another, to avoid communication for fear of upsetting the other, or to place irrational demands on each other.”

~ connect.legacy.com

Another part of the problem may be something called the “multiplier effect.” This occurs when the grief of one family member triggers the grief of another (or all). In the beginning, this is normal as everyone’s grief is so acute. However, as time passes and each individual moves through grief in their own way and time, this effect can create impatience with one another. While the paths of our grief journey split off in different directions, there seems to be a part of us that wants to “stick together as a family”… to grieve in a similar fashion – following identical paths.

However, that isn’t possible… Logically we know, we are all individuals with varying needs, but it can be hard to remember we are each grieving the loss of a different relationship. We know we don’t like others to tell us how to feel in our grief, but we also need to remember not to do the same to those we love either. Instead, we need to allow each other the space to feel what we feel and to express it in the way that will work best for each of us…

Put simply – we need to remember to offer what we would like to receive… love, patience and someone willing to simply be there in our hardest moments…

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… For many of us, the changes in us created by our grief can be confusing and overwhelming to ourselves and others. Learning to be open to new possibilities can feel impossible at times and at other times, this is what gives us hope. We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are not alone. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you!

Peace, Love and Grief… Does Grief Change You?

“Of course we change. Maybe not the entire personality traits but the way we react to certain things, events, and people. The way we observe life changes.”
~ daughter2010, Grief Healing Discussion Group

All my life, I have been happy… Like anyone, I had my sad moments, but overall, I was always able to see the positive side of anything… I could always find something to like about anyone. That positive attitude has guided my life and my attitude for as long as I can remember…

But now… Well, I don’t know…

When I lost Bruce, I was devastated. I couldn’t comprehend the idea of a life without him… a life without “us.” I felt a lot of emotions (and not one of them was positive). I was angry… very angry. And I trusted no one… After all, if I couldn’t trust God, who could I trust?

I was told all these negative thoughts and emotions are a normal part of grief, but they were new to me. I had never felt such intense negativity before, and to be honest, I didn’t know what to do with it. Like I said, I had been sad and angry before – but never to this degree or for this long. I felt like I was being sucked into a dark hole, and I couldn’t find my way back out… And that was just the beginning of the journey… There was still a long road ahead.

Thankfully, I have a few friends and family members who have stayed by my side… who didn’t let my emotional roller coaster scare them away. While they hadn’t lost a spouse, they seemed to understand the range and depth of the emotions I felt. They never gave up on me… They never told me how to feel or not feel. They never made me feel wrong or crazy. They just stayed by my side, listened and held me when I cried.

I remember talking to them in the beginning and sharing my fear of becoming an angry, bitter old woman… It seemed like a very real possibility. Their answers were simple and kind… They told me they didn’t think that would happen, and they would tell me if it did. And through the years, they have never lost faith in me.

The truth is, though, I have changed… While I haven’t become the bitter, angry woman I feared, I am no longer the positive, “trust-the-world-no-matter-what” person I used to be. Instead, I seem to find myself somewhere in the middle.

While I’m not always sure I like who I am, I know I can’t go back to who I was. As with any trauma, grief has created a “new normal.” I’m still me… I still have the same characteristics, but it’s all different. It seems as if the balance of those characteristics has changed. And because of this change, I see and experience the world differently now.

For example, I have always been an introvert. (Don’t confuse this with being shy – I’m not.) I love and care about people – I enjoy being with people. However, my energy for life comes from those quiet moments alone – from the peace I find in solitude. (Bruce was the same way, so with him, this felt normal.) Since Bruce died, this characteristic has not changed, but it has become greater.

Whereas in the past, I would take these moments where I could and make do, now I purposely seek out this time for myself. Those around me seem to accept it even if they don’t understand it. Thankfully, it is rarely seen as selfish… In fact, it is common to hear “I know all is normal, when you are off by yourself writing in your journal or just sitting alone.”

There are other changes, though that seem to be more noticeable… and perhaps harder for the people around me to accept…

For example, in the past I was much more chatty, (which evidently seemed friendlier). Now, however, I listen more and talk less. Like before, I still talk to anyone, but now I’m not real inclined to initiate the conversation. I guess, I’m no longer interested in small talk… That is not my comfort zone, and is a bit of a struggle for me. However, I really do enjoy listening to people and their stories – I love a real conversation – something genuine… And is that really a bad thing?

As I said, the characteristics seem to stay remain the same just the balance changes…

Another example, is my need to express myself creatively. In the past, I did this in more organized ways, such as choirs and theater, but that all stopped when Bruce died. My need for genuine expression, however, is still here. Only now it shows up in new ways, and has become my avenue for grief and healing.

For example, I’m not a “lay-in-bed-and-pull-the-covers-over-my-head” widow; nor am I a “forget-it-and-move-on” widow. (Don’t get me wrong… There is nothing wrong with those. You should do whatever is right for you. They just aren’t me.) I have found I need to express my grief in a more tangible way… That is where I have found healing.

So far (and I say, “so far,” because I am sure there will be more), I have taken up gardening and landscaped my yard (before I avoided yard work at all costs). I have painted pictures filled with rage and hurt, as well as pictures of our favorite places (whereas before I only painted theater sets and wall murals).  I, also, started writing (first in a journal and now this blog).

For whatever reason, this has become my way of remembering Bruce and honoring his memory. Will I do it forever? I don’t know… All I know is I have to heal in my own way… And this feels right for me in this moment…

One the biggest changes for me, though, has been my own emotional strength… My belief in myself and learning to live the life I want, rather than living my life to please others. This has been the biggest change for me. I grew up to be a “pleaser.” I would avoid conflict at all costs… I just wanted everyone to be happy and “get along.” However, while that feels “safe ” to me, it is not healthy, and the cost was high. By trying to please everyone else, I lost myself.

However, when Bruce and I were married, he encouraged me to simply be me. He showed me how to be strong. He showed me it was possible to be kind and loving, while still being true to myself. Even then, there were a few people in my life that balked at this. But I had Bruce’s support, and I was learning to find that balance.

Then suddenly, he was gone… I felt so lost. Now I had to find that strength on my own, and it was hard. I know there are those who struggle with my strength/confidence and push back… It’s not the way I was. At times like this, I doubt myself… I think it would just be easier to go back to my old habits. But then, I think of Bruce and the strength he saw inside me, and I keep going.

So the question was “Does grief change you?” I have to say, “yes.” I know it has changed me… Then, the next question is “Do I accept that or do I go back to who I was before?”… Honestly, I can’t go back – not anymore… The loss of Bruce has changed my entire world. It has changed my whole outlook on life and those things I value and hold dear…

I guess this is me now… And I think I’m okay with that.

“I must think for myself and come always from a place of love.”
~ Wayne Dyer

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… For many of us, the changes created by our grief can be confusing and overwhelming to ourselves and others. Learning to be open to new possibilities can feel impossible at times. Yet at other times, this is what gives us hope. We all move through this journey at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are not alone. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Attached

This week in my martial arts class, our instructor asked a question… “Have you ever been so attached to how you thought something was going to happen that when it didn’t happen that way, you were disappointed?”

The lesson, of course went on to discuss how important it is to not be attached to what you believe will happen, but instead, being open to all possibilities and learning to “roll with the punches.” Of course, he was relating this lesson back to the strategies of sparring, and it was a great analogy…. Everyone can relate to that experience. However, immediately my mind was elsewhere…

My mind was on Bruce… and the future we thought lay before us…

The miracle of two people living in opposite parts of the country, meeting in the Caribbean and falling in love was never lost on us. It was something we constantly marveled. (In fact, Bruce used to tell me I should write a book about it… Little did either of us know this is how our story would be told.)

There seemed to be no end to the depth of our connection and love for each other. While I will always believe he knew his time was limited, I had no idea. In my mind, we had forever. I was convinced we would grow old together… I was definitely attached to the idea of a long future together for us… Death was no where on my radar.

How could  “forever” not be our future? We were each other’s world… each other’s best friend. We could sit for hours without saying a word – just holding hands or snuggling. We always fell asleep in each other’s arms and woke up the same way. We laughed together, cried together, and entrusted those things closest to our hearts with each other. After 8 years together, we were still learning about each other, and a simple touch could still leave me with butterflies in my stomach and feeling weak in the knees.

Of course, I was attached to the idea of more… How can you love someone and not be attached to the idea of a future together?

I remember about a year after Bruce died, someone told me, “I used to wish I could find someone to love the way you and Bruce loved each other. But after seeing how much you are hurting, I hope I never love anyone the way you two loved each other.”

That shocked me a little bit when it was first spoken, and since then I have given it a lot of thought…

What about me? Would I have let myself fall in love with Bruce if I knew what the future held? I believe I would… Don’t get me wrong. I hate this thing called grief – I think it is BS and it sucks! My whole life has changed… In fact, my whole outlook on life has changed!

But, to imagine a life that never included Bruce is far worse!

Maybe that is why grief is so hard… There is constant inner conflict – Conflict between what is and what you thought would be… Conflict between what the world says you should feel and what you really feel.

For example, the world tells you there are “seven stages” of grief. (Which, by the way, is completely false!) I am a “list” person, so when I first read this, I had some hope… I really believed this would be my ticket to healing. However, I soon learned these stages are actually for someone facing their own impending death. The world, however, has taken this list and tried to apply it to the grief process. The problem is grief doesn’t really work that way.

Yes, when you are grieving, you will experience these stages… Just not quite the way you might think. It is different. There is no checklist and no nice, neat stages to master… Instead, you cycle through each stage (and every emotion) over and over… And in no particular order… And without an end in sight.

Once you recognize that, you also understand what it means when they say, “You never really heal from grief. Instead, you just learn how to live with it.” (Something I couldn’t understand until I lived it.)

Bruce and I had a lot of dreams and plans for our future. We knew we wanted to retire and travel… We wanted to sell everything, buy a boat and just sail from island to island. We wanted to see our children and grandchildren grow up and discover whatever the world held for them. All we wanted was a simple life made up of things like time together at the beach or kayaking. In fact, those were our plans together the weekend he died… Plans for things we would never do…

Were we attached to those things? Yes, I guess so… Because the moment he was gone so were all those plans and dreams. And sometimes it has been just as hard to let go of those as to let go of him. Somehow, they all seem to be intertwined, and I can’t let go of one without letting go of all of it… And letting go of even one piece brings on a whole new round of emotions and grief.

So, the question… Have I ever been so attached to how I thought something was going to turnout and when it didn’t happen that way, was I disappointed? Obviously, yes. But have I learned to be open to all possibilities and “roll with the punches?” Hmmm… I would have to say I’m still working on it…

And I believe, my “working on it” is what grief really is…

I sit in the sun,
Enjoying its warmth.
On the horizon,
I can see the ever-present clouds –
The darkness of a storm
That can hit at any moment.
Some days it stays on the horizon,
Present but not a threat.
Other days, it blows in – shutting out the sun
And attacking my very soul.
I never know from what direction the wind will blow.
Will it blow and keep the storm away?
Or
Will it blow the storm directly in my path?
I never know moment to moment
Where it will be,
But I always know it is there…
Somewhere.
~Linda, April 2016

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… For many of us, the confusion and emotions of grief can be overwhelming even on the best of days. Learning to be open to new possibilities can feel impossible at times and at other times, give us hope. We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… And we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are NOT alone. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Please note – I will be spending next weekend with family (and without a computer). Therefore, there will not be a blog next week, but I will be back the following week (July 23).

Peace, Love and Grief… Dreams

Dreams… I always loved the Biblical story of Joseph and his dreams. Maybe because of that particular story, I’ve always put a certain amount of stock in dreams. Not all dreams – Let’s be honest… some are just too bizarre… But enough to cause me to pay attention to them.

I believe dreams are our mind’s way of telling us what is going within ourselves. They are a way for our minds to work out some of the craziness we call life while we are sleeping… And if we pay attention to them, we can find a lot of answers to our questions.

When Bruce first passed away, I remember reading and hearing about people who dream of their loved ones who had passed. They described dreams that left them feeling loved and filled with hope. But I also read of those who didn’t have those dreams… Their emotions were mixed – some were relieved because they felt it might stop them from moving on, and others were frustrated and confused – why not them? It didn’t seem fair – their love was just as real as anyone else’s.

I prayed I would be one of the lucky ones – I wanted to dream of Bruce… Even if it was just once. I didn’t care what the dream was about. I just wanted to see him again – even if only in a dream… And I did.

It was about three months after he had passed away… The day and evening before were the same as any other. I had gone to work, come home to an empty house, eaten dinner alone, crawled in bed, written in my journal and cried myself to sleep.

How am I here without you?
Why am I here without you?
What am I to do without you?
Who am I without you?
Where am I supposed to go without you?
~ Linda, July 2014

At some point in the night, I started dreaming that we were together – playing and laughing and just having fun. We went for a bike ride (with me perched precariously on the handle bars). We rode through city streets and country roads – laughing and talking the whole time. As the “day” passed, we took a break under a large oak tree, snuggled up together – kissing and talking. The time was absolutely priceless for me. I remember telling Bruce how hard it was without him, and how much I missed him. He looked me in the eye, leaned closer and kissed me, but as he pulled away, he began to fade… I reached out to him, but I couldn’t touch him… He reached out, touched my cheek and told me he loved me as he faded before my eyes.

Then, I woke up… It was a struggle to reorient myself to reality. The dream had felt so real. There was a part of me that was sad, but there was a bigger part of me that felt pure joy. I’ve never tried to explain that dream… Instead I have held onto that precious dream and cherished it in my heart.

Throughout these four years, I have dreamed many times about Bruce. In some dreams, we are riding in his red truck down back country roads, just talking and holding hands. In others, we are on some type of quest – in search of something although I have no idea what. In these dreams, Bruce is my strong hero – always ready to help me so I can keep up with him.

Then, there are those dreams which involved other living, family members. They either ride in the truck with us or walk with us, but they are always involved in the conversation, and their time with us is only for a small portion of the dream.

But no matter what is happening in my dream, the ending is always the same… Bruce always kisses me, touches my cheek and tells me he loves me before he fades away, and the dream ends.

This week my dream took a different turn. Instead of being with Bruce, I was trying to get to him. I knew he was waiting for me somewhere, but I didn’t know where. Every time I started looking for him, someone else always seemed to need my time and attention. It’s funny, you might think I would have been frustrated, but I wasn’t… (At least, not real frustrated). I wanted to get to Bruce, yet I knew the people who needed me really needed me. And in my heart, I knew Bruce would understand and would still wait for me.

When I woke up, it had me thinking about last week’s blog… Who knows? Maybe that is where my dream came from… Perhaps it was my mind simply reminding me of what my soul already knows…

There was a time when I couldn’t understand why I was still here, while Bruce is “there.” But as life has moved on, it has become clear that I am needed here for now… I have a purpose here and a life to continue living.

However, in my heart, I know he is waiting for me… and one day we will be together again…

One day I will see him again.
And he will touch my cheek
And kiss me
And I will smile… again.
~ Linda, September 2014

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. For me this week, it was a simple dream. What about you? What are some of your experiences that have helped you? Would you be willing to share one or two? If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Memories

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind
Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine
Quiet thought come floating down
And settle softly to the ground
Like golden autumn leaves around my feet
I touched them and they burst apart with sweet memories *

Some days it seems as if this part of my journey isn’t real… This part where I am alone. How can my heart still be so connected to his heart if he is gone? The memories are so strong and still so vibrant, I feel as if I could reach out and still touch him or still hear his laughter in my ear… Even four years later, it doesn’t seem possible that Bruce is really gone. It is a piece of reality that is hard to accept most days… and nearly impossible on others.

Yet, it is those same vibrant memories that have held me up and sustained me throughout this journey… These memories have not just helped me to survive (as in the beginning), but more recently, they have given me the strength and courage to actually live again.

When I think of Bruce, my heart still flutters as I remember his kind eyes… In fact, I think that was what initially attracted me to him… Those eyes spoke of a soul that was kinder than any I have ever known. Of course, there are so many other things I remember which also make me smile – his mischievous grin, his quiet laughter, and his gentle touch to name a few.

But it doesn’t end there… There are so many precious moments frozen in time here in my heart – memories of dancing in the kitchen, walking on the beach, snuggling on the couch and lying safely in his arms.

Sweet memories
Of holding hands and red bouquets
And twilight trimmed in purple haze
And laughing eyes and simple ways
And quiet nights and gentle days with you *

I love remembering our first meeting in the islands – memories of a brand-new love and intimate conversations within the cocoon of our own, private, little world. I even treasure the memories of the times we disagreed (and made up), as much as the many adventures we shared. Each memory is incredibly precious… Each one reminds me of a time when we were together and for us, love become something almost tangible.

Memories, pressed between the pages of my mind
Memories, sweetened through the ages just like wine
Memories, memories*

Then, there is the memory of that last night… A night I have tried to forget, but instead, each horrible moment is permanently etched in my mind… It is a night I still wish had never happened, but one I will always remember… The night I was forced to say, “Goodbye.”

However, my faith tells me that night was not the end… Thankfully, I have a faith that tells I will see Bruce again, and we will be together throughout eternity. It is that very idea that allows me to pick up the pieces and live my life here… to love each moment as it comes…

Thankful for what was… Thankful for what is… And thankful for what will come.

There’s a part of you that recognizes that you’re really not of this world. There’s something within you that is birthless and deathless and that has no form. It has no beginning, and it has no end.
~ Wayne Dyer

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own memories that help us make it through. What are some of your favorite memories? Would you be willing to share one or two? If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

* Songwriters: Donald Baldwin / Jeffrey Bowen / Kathy Wakefield
Memories lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Peace, Love and Grief… Thoughts on Father’s Day

I thought we had forever…
I never knew we were counting down
From the day we met.
~ Linda, September

As I write this week, Father’s Day is on the horizon, and all I can think about is what a wonderful father Bruce was… not just to his own daughter, but to my kids, as well. The best part was he never set out trying to be my kids’ “dad.” From his perspective, the whole stepfather-is-dad thing didn’t usually work out well. However, life has a funny way of making things happen when we least expect it…

From my kids’ perspective, their biological father had created such turmoil throughout their childhood that trust was in short supply. However, it didn’t take long before Bruce’s gentle spirit and unconditional acceptance of who they were captured their hearts and helped heal so many hurts.

One of my favorite moments was our first Father’s Day together… The day when Bruce knew without a doubt this new family belonged to both of us… It was our family, and he was smack dab in the middle of it.

We had known each other for about one and a half years and had been married for only seven months. While my other kids were developing their own (positive) relationships with Bruce, my youngest had been giving him quite a run for his money since we had married. (In her defense, she was the only child who had to move 1000 miles with me to Michigan and was understandably angry.) In fact, by this point, we were both resigned to the idea that this “family” thing might take a while… A loooong while…

But as fate would have it, when Bruce and I returned home from church that morning, there was my youngest with a tray of homemade cookies and a card on top for “Dad.” As she handed the tray to him, she sheepishly asked him if it was okay… Would he mind being her Dad? Instantly, he pulled her into a great, big bear hug. For the longest time, they simply held each other and wiped the tears out of their eyes.

For me, my love for Bruce grew even more (as if that was possible) in that moment. After all, how can a woman not love a man who loves her children like his own. But, how did he manage to do that? How did he make such a significant difference in such a brief time?

I think I summed it up best one Father’s Day when I wrote:

To my Bruce: Happy Father’s Day, Babe. Thank you for being a true dad to my kids. 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. In the short time we have had together, you have taught us so much. You have brought healing where we did not think it was possible, and you have changed our lives forever. I have told you every day, and I will say it again, “You are my hero, and I love you forever!”

Besides the fact that all of this has been on my mind this week, why would I bother sharing it here? I’ll tell you why… Because if your father (or the person who fills that role) is still alive, please don’t hesitate to tell them what they mean to you. You may think they know… but maybe they don’t… or maybe they just need to hear it one more time.

After all, we live in a world of incredible beauty and promise. Each day and each person here is a gift… enjoy it!

The trouble is, you think you have time. ~ Buddha

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our memories that bring tears and the memories that make us smile… each one precious in its own way. What are some of your favorite memories? If so, would you be willing to share your story? What better way to remember and honor those we love than by sharing their stories. If you aren’t ready to share your stories or you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Accepting “What Is”

Learning to Smile Again

I smile again…
Slow at first,
A little awkward,
Then quickly, I shut it down.
Soon I am smiling again –
A little longer,
A little bigger,
One day I think I will smile like I smiled before –
Full of life… and love.
~ Linda, January 2014

Do you ever have weeks that seem to be meant for reflection? Nothing bad… no real sadness… just plenty of time to reflect on where I have been, where I am and where I am going… This week has been one of those weeks for me.

I think it started last weekend while I was talking to my grandson about our “Happiness Board.” This “Happiness Board” is a dry-erase board in our kitchen. It has three columns (one for each of us) and seven rows (one for each day of the week). Each day we list the things from that day that made us happy or we are thankful for. We started this just a few weeks ago in response to all the negativity that seems to fill this world lately. It is our attempt to stay focused on the positive things in our lives, instead of all the things that can so easily bring us down.

For me, it has become a great way to remain focused on what I have in my life versus what I don’t have (like Bruce). By looking for things to be thankful for… Things that bring happiness, I find myself better able to accept what is happening around me. In many ways, it has become a great reminder to celebrate life… something I know Bruce would want me to continue doing.

What I have found is while the big (aka – material) things may make me smile in the moment, these aren’t the things that make me smile the biggest or that warm my heart the most. In fact, usually it is the most simple things that bring the most joy… Things like afternoon rain, laughing, dancing in the living room or Sunday afternoon naps… So many times, I know it is in the simple moments of life where the best memories are made.

Don’t get me wrong… This board is not a “fix” that demands I must always be happy or ignore those moments when I miss Bruce and a tear slides down my cheek. As I reflect this week, I know those days and moments will probably always be a part of my world. Like the economy, it is the continuous ups and downs that truly lead to growth. It takes both – the times of happiness when I am able to accept “what is,” and those times of struggle when I find myself stretching and growing.

It is weeks like this when I remind myself I should not always expect continuous growth… That’s not realistic. Instead, I need to strive to be a little better each day… Yet, always willing to allow myself the grace to accept it when I’m not – knowing that it’s not only okay… It’s normal.

I guess, the more I reflect, the more I learn… I need to remember the positives God has sent into my life each day. I also need to keep reminding myself that the overall direction of my life is always more important than wherever I am at any given moment as I keep learning to accept “what is.”

To move forward,
You must live in the present moment first…
Whatever it is, let yourself go and just live!
~Linda, February 2015

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own lessons we must learn. Have you ever allowed yourself the time to reflect on where you were compared to where you are now? If so, would you be willing to share your experience, there may be someone else out there who needs to hear it. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… The Search for Real Peace

There seems to be so many obstacles and things to learn in this journey called life… And when your life journey includes a grief journey, things really change. The obstacles change and there are new things to learn that you never even thought of before. For me however, whatever the obstacle or lesson, finding some kind of peace seems to always be at the core… And the hardest part of that can be determining if that peace is real peace, or if it is something else simply masquerading as peace.

Do you know what do I mean?

In past blogs, I have written about things people have said or done. Some things are positive… They are incredibly helpful, healing and create a sense of peace. Other things, however, aren’t helpful at all… They leave me feeling like I am less than a person – These things are not healing, and do not create a sense of peace.

Why is that? I believe it is due to several factors…

I think some of it is because people don’t know what to say or do when someone they care about is grieving. I sincerely believe (most of the time) people’s hearts are in the right place, but without any personal experience, they rely on “Hollywood” or what they have heard others say. While they mean well, they don’t realize how absolutely hollow many of those words and phrases are.

There are also those who may or may not have any personal experience with loss. (However, for them, that really doesn’t matter.) Either way, they are convinced they have the answers. According to them, if I would just do as they say, I would “get over it”… And when I don’t, they push even harder. I want to believe they mean well, but I wish they could understand their answers aren’t necessarily my answers.

Then, there is my part in all of this… I know I am a passive communicator. In my soul, I just want everyone to get along, so I tend to bite my tongue – not speaking up or being honest about how some of these words and actions affect me. However, while I might convince myself I am “keeping the peace,” it is a false sense of peace… Because in actuality, there is no peace within that space.

I think one of the biggest things I have learned on this journey is there are two kinds of peace…

First, there is the fake peace created when I don’t speak up. True – there is no conflict… at least not externally. However, in my heart, there is great conflict and hurt. There is a feeling of being “squelched” or put down… A feeling of being less than who I really am. There is also a fear here that if I am honest and speak up for myself, I will no longer be loved. I call this “fake peace,” because it is a mask… It is not real, and it is not healing in any sense of the word.

Real peace, however, is completely different… This is found in the relationships where I know I can be honest… and still be loved. This is the space where I feel heard and understood, and which allows me to listen and understand others, as well. In this space, there is no one with “power” over the other, because no one is perceived as weak. Because there is an understanding of what is sacred within each of us, we are able to find a commonality that strengthens and heals…

In other words, when there is real peace… There is also hope… and that is where the healing can start to happen.

There is a peace that comes with acceptance,
And a love that is always remembered.
~ Linda, September 2013

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own lessons we must learn. Have you ever found yourself wondering what happened to listening and being compassionate toward one another? Have you ever doubted your own value in this world? If so, would you be willing to share your experience, there may be someone else out there who needs to hear it. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… The Story isn’t Over

I love to read, and as a former drama teacher, I certainly enjoy theater and movies, as well. However, because life holds enough reality and sadness on its own, I prefer the “happily-ever-after,” “feel-good” ending types of entertainment… And what I absolutely can’t stand are the ones that don’t actually end… The ones that just stop. There is no ending – good or bad. I can’t stand those… They make me crazy. When that happens, I have no choice but to hope a sequel is forthcoming that will tie all the loose ends together and bring the story to some type of resolution.

Maybe that is why I get so frustrated with this whole “grief thing.” In the beginning, I really thought I would “do” all the recommended “things” and move on. I tend to be a “list person” so, that is what I did… I went through the “checklist” of everything I read or heard would help – crying, attending a support group, planning his memorial, reading self-help grief books, working with a life coach, “painting my feelings”, journaling, and the list goes on.

While each of these things has helped (and continues to help) me understand my feelings and “where” I am on my journey, there is nothing that has made my grief actually go away… While I understand the so-called “grief process” better, and I can recognize when I am spiraling down, I have learned there really isn’t anything one can do to take the pain away… There is nothing to “make it all better.”

Most of the time, I find myself reconciled to the fact that my life now is what it is… I will always miss Bruce… I will always feel like I am only living my life halfway. Granted, I am better at pushing those feelings down and smiling at the world… But in that space deep down, I believe I will always feel sad and alone… And that is not a “happily-ever-after” story.

This week, however, I heard a statement from Rev. Michael Gott that hit home… “When it doesn’t feel good, it’s not the whole story.”

What a simple statement, yet such a great reminder to carry in my heart…

Every good story has conflict… There is always a struggle, whether it is internal or between foes depends on the story. However, conflict is necessary for the story to have a purpose… for the characters to grow and develop… for the eventual “happily ever after.”

Perhaps, it is the same for me… Loving Bruce was definitely my favorite part of our story, and (hopefully) it was his “happily ever after.” However, according to this statement, losing Bruce is not the end of my story (or I wouldn’t still be here). My struggle to regain my balance has helped me to grow – I am stronger than I was… And I am more sure of who I am.

I have no idea what the rest of my story will hold. However, I take great comfort in thinking this isn’t the whole story… There is more to come… And that gives me the encouragement I need to keep moving forward… and to keep living my story… whatever it is.

I do not get to choose
What life throws my way.
My choice is…
Can I love more today than yesterday,
Despite what has happened?
~ Linda, November 2015

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own lessons we must learn. Have you ever found yourself wondering what happened to loving and showing compassion to our fellow man? Have you ever doubted your own value in this world? If so, would you be willing to share your experience? There may be someone else out there who needs to hear it. If you are someone who needs a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.