Tag: grieve

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… Some “Firsts” Can Be Good

I remember when Bruce first passed away… There were a lot of “firsts” I had to work my way through., such as the first Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, anniversary and birthdays (his and mine). There was also the first time traveling alone, eating out alone and buying a car alone… Not to mention learning to repair appliances, changing the smoke alarm batteries (which involves a very tall ladder), car maintenance, and taking care of the yard.

After a while, I felt I must have hit all the “firsts.” After all, how many “firsts” can there possibly be? A lot, evidently… Because as time has passed, I find myself still encountering a new one every now and then… Such as this weekend.

I must say, these “firsts” were more on the positive side than the ones at the beginning. Or maybe I am finally able to find the silver lining that makes them feel more positive…

Over the years, I have been to many Jimmy Buffet concerts… And most of those with Bruce. We went to see him every year – tailgating in full Parrothead style with fins, coconuts bras, grass skirts, shrimp, and (of course) our own tikibar with “frozen concoctions.” It was something we looked forward to all year and was always too much fun!

When Bruce passed, I just assumed my Parrothead concert days were over. But this weekend proved that to be wrong…

A few months ago, when the Jimmy Buffet 2017 concert dates for Florida were announced, my daughter bought 3 tickets – one for her, my grandson and me. I must admit I had a few mixed feelings about going – feeling both anxious and excited…

What if I couldn’t bring myself to go? What if I did go, but I missed Bruce too much to have fun? And worst of all, what if I ruined it for my daughter and grandson?

On the other hand, my own kids were introduced to their first Buffet concerts around seven and eight, so it just seemed right to introduce my grandson to this family tradition. He already loves Jimmy Buffet and can sing along to most of his songs… I knew I wanted to do this, and I knew Bruce would love knowing his little Boudreaux is a Parrothead, too.

As this weekend got closer, my daughter and I discussed how we wanted to do this… How to introduce him to the Parrothead culture without exposing him to the parts that are not exactly child-friendly. So… instead of tailgating, we opted for dinner at Margaritaville. And instead of coconuts bras and grass skirts, we opted for Jimmy Buffet T-shirts, leis and Parrothead hats (or a Sharkhead in Michael’s case).

We had assumed he would most likely fall asleep about halfway through the show, but he proved us wrong… Instead, he danced and sang his way through with the rest of us, until the last song, when he curled up in his Mommy’s arms and fell sound asleep.

I couldn’t have asked for better! I was back in that Parrothead world. I was able to share it with people I love. Granted, there were a few tears for Bruce in the middle of “One Particular Harbor” and “Son of a Son of a Sailor,” but that’s okay… I’m allowed those moments. However, all in all, there were enough differences to help me enjoy creating new traditions, and enough similarities to feel Bruce’s presence right beside me…

It was perfect!… That was a new (dare I say it) positive “first.”

Then, we have today – Mother’s Day. In the years since Bruce died, I have usually spent this day alone. Don’t get me wrong – It’s been fine. My kids always remember me with cards, flowers, phone calls and Skype. They do remind me I am loved and appreciated… They are absolutely wonderful, and I love them for all of that.

But this year, circumstances have changed… This year I have 2 more people living in my house… This year I am not alone… And today has been great!

My kids who live far away have reached out to me – we have talked by phone or Skype… These conversations absolutely mean the world to me. I have, also, had the pleasure of sharing today’s celebration with my daughter and grandson.

We started by sleeping in. (Of course, in seven year old terms, that is 8 AM… But in his defense, in GG terms, 8 AM is late, so all is good.) Then, he had snuggles for all of us… a picnic and time to chill at the beach… And to top it off, he (the youngest “grill-master”) is planning to grill pork chops for us for dinner – “Cause y’all deserve it,” he so sweetly says.

And, once again, another perfectly, positive first…

For me, that’s kind of cool – realizing that there is still a lot of life to live… and enjoy…

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way. Have you ever found yourself wondering when all these “firsts” will ever end? Have you reached that point where the “firsts” don’t all need to be dreaded or feared? 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… Feeling Stressed… But Finding Strength

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

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

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

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

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

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

But how?

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

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

Oh, my gosh! How true!

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Happy Birthday, Babe!

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

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

Journal Entry – 4/12

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

Journal Entry – 4/13

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… The Four Cs

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

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

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

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

And there was… His name was Bruce…

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

He showed me how to “cope with it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… When We Became Me

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So why am I telling you all of this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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