widow – Page 36 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Auld Lang Syne

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o’ lang syne!
~ Robert Burns

We sing it every year at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s, but how many of us even know what we are singing? This song is actually an old Scot’s poem that means “for old times’ sake.” It is about preserving and remembering old friendships and events… It’s about remembering “times gone by.” It may seem strange, but until I lost Bruce that song really held no real meaning for me. But now when I sing it, I mean it!

This year as I think about that song and ponder the approach of another year – where I’ve been and where I’m going – I find myself focusing on the reality of another year without Bruce. In fact, even though my life is continually moving in a more positive direction, I find that I still miss and love Bruce just as much as on day one. I often find myself wishing for “what was” instead of “what is.” My journal entry for December 31, 2015 states it best:

“Hi Babe! As I prepare to face another year without you next to me, I struggle. I miss you so much it still hurts – physically as much as emotionally. There is still a huge part of me that can’t believe you are gone (even after 3 years). There are so many sweet memories and I am so thankful for those. I, also, know your spirit will always be with me… will always be a part of me, but it’s not the same. I miss you! I would still give anything to have you here – physically beside me… I still love you so much!”

This week as I find myself facing the beginning of 2017 – another year without Bruce – I wonder if all these feelings are normal. Is it normal to still feel so lost and alone four years later? I don’t know… There are plenty of people who tell me “no.” However, I don’t put a lot of stock in what they say, because they have never been where I am. (Their opinion is only that – an opinion… It has no basis in reality or experience.) However, when I talk to anyone else who is grieving, they seem to have similar feelings. Besides, if Auld Lang Syne is the way we all start each new year, then my feelings can’t be too far off.

This week, as I tried to emotionally prepare myself for this New Year’s Eve (or Old Year’s Night as Bruce loved to call it), I had two things happen on the same day that spoke volumes to me…

First, while listening to one of my regular podcasts this week, I heard a quote from Chasidic Rabbi Menachem Mendel, “The only whole heart is a broken one.” The truth of that simple statement immediately struck a chord with me.

That same day while looking at my “On this day” section on Face Book, I saw this:

“Spoke with a friend before Thanksgiving and his wife was in the hospital with an MS episode. Saw him today and found out she had passed a week later. One week she was fine, the next week in the hospital and the next week gone. He got a call to come say good-by and 15 minutes after he got there she passed. I cannot imagine the devastation. We talked for a while… Mostly, he just wanted to talk about her… About her life. All I have been able to think today is to that every moment is precious. We never know when someone we love will be gone. Never take a moment for granted and always be sure they know that I love them. If you are reading this, please know that I love you!”

Little did I know when I wrote this, I would lose my precious Bruce only 2 short weeks later. Then that quote came back to mind…

“The only whole heart is a broken one.”

It is so true… At the time I wrote that post, I knew without a doubt that I loved Bruce and he loved me. What was impossible to grasp was the depth of that love… the depth of the connection between our very souls. It wasn’t until he died, and I experienced the depth of grief within my broken heart, that I could understand exactly how deep our love had been… and still is. Yet when I heard that quote, a part of me realized (as awful as it is) in order to experience all facets of love, the pain and grief of a broken heart must be a part of it, as well.

I’ve always thought Bruce knew his time was limited… just small things he did in the last few months preceding his death… none of which I gave a second thought until after he died. If that is true, I also believe he experienced his own grief and broken heart. Because of that, I believe by that last month, he had a complete understanding of the depth of our love… I believe that is why this song was one of the last songs we danced to as he held me close, looked in my eyes and kissed me gently… one last time…

It’s still true… As I face 2017, this is still the only thing I really want with all my heart…

And all I want is to hold you forever
All I need is you more every day
You saved my heart from being broken apart
You gave your love away and I’m thankful every day, for the gift

~ Songwriters: TOM DOUGLAS, JIM BRICKMAN

What about you? How do you prepare for the New Year? Do you find yourself wishing for what was but knowing that can never be? Would you like to share your thoughts or ideas on how to face the New Year? If you are on the healing side of grief, what have you done to move forward?

Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.* Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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Peace, Love and Grief… The perfect Christmas

As I write this week, it is still several days before Christmas. I am off work and enjoying a few precious moments of quiet. As I sit here, signs of this year’s Christmas season are all around me… the tree, the lights, decorations, nativity sets, Mickey (our Elf on the Shelf), the Advent wreath and of course, Christmas music playing in the background… sounds like the setting for the perfect Christmas special or commercial.

That really makes me laugh, because these few quiet moments are not the norm… I don’t know about everyone, but many of us find our holidays filled with chaos, noise, shopping, and go-here-go-there craziness. I believe it’s the reason we all laugh at the Grinch’s frustration with the Christmas season… We completely understand how he feels, because we live it!

But why do we do it? For whatever reason, we seem to have bought into the Hollywood version of a “perfect Christmas,” and, we seem to believe we can create that perfection by all this “doing. Personally, I think we have been led horribly astray.

As I have written several times, I spent my first Christmas without Bruce trying to ignore the holiday. Without him, I knew I would never have the perfect Christmas… Without him, I didn’t want any Christmas at all. It was going to be too hard… There would be too much pain involved. So, instead, I sat on the sidelines watching everyone else “do” the Christmas dance… too busy to notice anyone who might not be celebrating… anyone who might be hurting.

The strangest part was I knew that had been me for so many years, as well. It was quite the eye opener. It didn’t take me long to realize all those years when I was trying to achieve the “perfect Christmas,” I always seemed to fall short… until Bruce.

Bruce lived such a simple life… “Things” were not important to him – people were… And Christmas was no different. He loved the decorating and the music, but he wasn’t willing to participate in all the craziness, shopping crowds and running around.

When we lived in Michigan, Christmas was about family. Sure, we woke up and exchanged a couple of gifts, but the excitement was centered around going to his folk’s house for the day… Nothing fancy – just lots of delicious food, great conversation, family games and tons of laughter.

When we moved to Florida, that tradition was gone… At first, we floundered to create new ones… Okay, actually, I was panicked that Christmas would be “ruined,” but Bruce took it all in stride. He simply created new traditions that sometimes included friends or family who were visiting and other times only included the two of us. Yet, it never seemed to matter. Somehow, Bruce who never got caught up in all the hoopla always managed to create the perfect Christmas.

I think that was the reason for my anxiety that first year without him… How could I do that without him?… I was pretty sure I couldn’t, so I didn’t even try. The next few years, I gave a little more effort to celebrate, and while those years were good, it wasn’t the same… However, the scary part was I found myself “doing” more and more to create the “perfect Christmas,” even when I knew that wasn’t the answer.

This year, having a child in the house has brought a lot more “doing” into our house, as well. I find myself wanting to create the “perfect Christmas” for him. Yet, the more I “do,” the less perfect it feels. Then, this week it hit me – something Bruce figured out a long time ago and lived daily… not just at Christmas…

This is not a perfect world and there is no “perfect Christmas.”

If this world were perfect, there would have been no need for the birth of that little baby 2000 years ago. Yet, even He didn’t come to make this world perfect… He simply came to bring us love… To show us what it looks and feels like when love is real and genuine.

Two thousand years later, that is all we need to do… love. To create the perfect Christmas, we don’t need to “do” all the things on a list dictated by the world around us…

Instead, simply do the things that bring you joy and make it easier for you to show others you love them… The rest of it? Let it go!

I still miss Bruce every day, and it is unlikely my world will ever feel “perfect” again without him. But, I am learning I don’t need a perfect world… Instead, I can carry on the legacy Bruce left behind. I can let go of impossible, exhausting expectations, and replace them with simple, quiet moments filled with love…

The same love that filled a manger over 2000 years ago.

With that in mind, my prayer for all of us this Christmas continues to be…

“May we each take the time to love, laugh and celebrate… May we slow down and reach out to those around us who may be hurting… May we be willing to simply hold a hand, give a hug, or listen…”
“May each of us be willing to simply BE the love and acceptance each of us is seeking from the world around us.”

Merry Christmas from my imperfect, love-filled home to yours!

If you are struggling with celebrating the holidays after your loss, please let us all be there for you. If you have any ideas that have helped you through the holidays, please share them here for others. This is our community… Let’s reach out and be the compassion we each seek.

To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message. *

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Twas the week before Christmas

Here we are – the week before Christmas… life is crazy and busy. On the one hand, I love it! I love the parades, the performances, the singing, even a certain amount of the hustle and bustle. I love the lights, the music and (of course) the food. I love visits from friends and family and shopping for the “perfect” gifts. This has been the first year in a very long time I have been so immersed in the Christmas season and all that goes with it.

At the same time, there are days when I feel a bit lost… Sometimes as I stop to catch my breath, I find there is not a lot of “peace on earth” to be found. I struggle to find time for any of the things that help me keep my world balanced, such as time for reflection or meditation.

Not so long ago (just four short years ago), I was completely at the other end of this experience. For the first time ever, I was alone for the holidays. There was no tree or shopping or music to ring in the holiday. In fact, there was probably too much quiet in my life. I found myself sitting on the sidelines watching the all the craziness… Half of me wishing I was still a part of the chaos, and yet at the same time, the other half was relieved I wasn’t.

Too Busy
Everyone is so busy.
No one has time to talk to a woman alone…
A woman lost.
In a season of celebration, a season of love, things have turned around…
They are out of balance.
For it has become a season of things…
Things to get, things to buy, things to decorate, things to do.
But people, the ones alone, the ones that little Babe came to love,
They are forgotten, pushed aside
Because
Everyone is too busy to take a moment to care.
~ Linda, December 2013

That first year, the year I tried to ignore Christmas was hard. The holiday was everywhere I turned. I knew I wasn’t ready to participate, but I still needed someone to remember I existed. Don’t misunderstand, my family and my friends were wonderful. I was the one struggling… But even I didn’t know what I needed, so how could they?

Navigating the holidays was one of the hardest parts of this journey for me… And still is. Each year, however, I have participated a little bit more than the year before. That has been good, but it still isn’t easy… I still have many moments of feeling lost and alone with the world racing past me.

This year, with a child in the house again, I have found the season can easily take on a life of its own. Maintaining a balance between “holiday peace” and “holiday fun” has been one of my struggles this year. Each day, I try to start with my normal meditation and gratitude list… And each day, I quickly find my mind shifting in a thousand directions to all the things I “need to do” in the days before Christmas.

I refer to this as my Monkey Mind… It is that constant back and forth battle in our minds that can be a bit frustrating. You know what I mean? It is that “voice in your head” that will wake you up in the middle of the night with a list of things you must get done and absolutely cannot forget. (Aaaargh!) Maybe it is really a “Mother’s Mind,” but I’m sure you know what I mean.

My other struggle has been the guilt associated with knowledge… The knowledge of what people struggling with loss experience during this season. The knowledge that there is someone out there tonight hurting and alone. I know that gut-wrenching pain. I know what it feels like to collapse in the middle of a room and cry until there are no more tears left to cry. It is a horrible feeling.

There is also the knowledge that Bruce is not here – not last year, not this year… never again. It has been 4 years since we celebrated Christmas together, and when I allow myself the time to really think about that and all it encompasses, I hurt all over again.

So now what?

Yes, it is the week before Christmas. Yes, it is a time of love, laughter and celebration. And yes, for many of us, it is also a time of memories and tears…

With that in mind, my prayer for all of us this week before Christmas…

“May we each take the time to love, laugh and celebrate… May we also slow down long enough to see those around us who may be hurting… And may we reach out and simply hold a hand, give a hug, or listen to a memory…

Let each of us become a divine reality for someone else by simply being the love and acceptance each of us is seeking from the world around us.”

If you are struggling with celebrating the holidays after your loss, please let us all be there for you. If you have any ideas that have helped you through the holidays, please share them here for others. This is our community… Let’s reach out and be the compassion we each seek.

To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message. *

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Decorating and grief

Note: Just moments before posting my blog last week, we had a “milk meets computer” incident. Thank you for your patience as we worked to get back up and running this week.

For anyone grieving, the holidays are tough… They just are. I wish I could share some great “tricks” to help you through this time, but honestly, there are none.

The first year, (as I’ve told you before), I completely ignored the holiday. I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t do it. There were some who tried to push the holiday on me by inviting me over to surprise me with their decorations and music… That didn’t work. In fact, it only upset me more. There were others who tried the guilt approach by reminding me that the holiday is based on faith, and is not about me or Bruce at all. While true, it is still a holiday with traditions built around those we love, so this didn’t work either. In fact, it actually just made me question my faith.

The bottom line was – I wasn’t ready. Grief is one of those things that is different for everyone. We each need to go at it in our own way… and in our own time. While I knew this in my gut, it was difficult to express it in such a way that others could understand.

The next year was slightly different… I felt braver… I wanted to participate in Christmas. I remember…

Journal Entry – Dec 2, 2014
“Hi Babe… feeling down… really struggling and missing you. Yesterday was okay – good actually… Until I started some Christmas decorating last night. : ( I thought I was ready. I thought I would be okay, but it broke me. I didn’t do Christmas last year, so this is my first time unpacking this stuff since you died. And since this box represents our last few weeks together, the memories are bittersweet and the tears seem to be endless. All I managed to get out were two nativity sets, the light brick and the stocking holders. (What am I going to do with those?) Hang one stocking? Do I hang yours? I don’t know what to do there… What do I do? I cried myself to sleep and woke up still crying. I’m not very good at this whole widow/grief thing. I can’t seem to just “move on.” I still love and miss you so much! How can this be my life? How can you be gone? How does someone with so much love and life just cease to exist? I don’t think I will ever understand this.”

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

It was hard that year, but I figured it out – I did hang both stockings. Beside Bruce’s, I placed a small box of paper and a pen. I used these to write down special memories of our Christmases together, and placed these in his stocking.

For me, this really helped. In fact, this has become my tradition. It means a lot to me to see his stocking still hanging there beside mine. In fact, I think it is the most active stocking hanging there.

Each year since Bruce passed has brought challenges of their own. It is always a moment by moment holiday – half survival… half celebration.

This year, however, has brought a new grief to the picture…

This year I have been blessed with a house full, as one of my daughters and my grandson now live with me. Last weekend we managed to set up the stockings, the Christmas china, several nativity sets, the Christmas village, and the tree with lights (but no decorations). It has been a festive week filled with laughter and music.

I’ve loved it. However, I’ve still had my private moments of tears… Of overwhelming memories and those moments when I know he would have loved spending this holiday with his little Boudreaux. For me this seems to always result in tears and missing Bruce down to my very core.

This weekend as we started to decorate the tree, grief reared its head again, but this time it was my grandson’s grief. As we pulled out ornaments, he wanted to hear the stories behind each one. He smiled and laughed and hung them on the tree… so excited. Until…

About halfway through the box, he pulled out an ornament with three snowmen – a Mommy, a Daddy and a baby – and under each one were their names… Just last Christmas, they had still been a family. As he held the ornament in his hands, his eyes filled with tears. Then, still clutching the ornament, he threw himself into his mother’s arms and wept.

He has only recently come to realize that divorce is forever… This has been a hard fact for him to accept. In fact, I believe he has only just started the real grief for the loss of his family as he knew it… And just like anyone grieving, he has a mix of emotions, which can be overwhelming for a little boy, especially at a moment like this.

On this particular night we held him and listened… simply listened as he cried and told us how he felt.

Then he asked if he could still hang that ornament because he loved the way it reminded him of his “old” family. I thought of Bruce’s stocking hanging just a few feet away for the very same reason… Then, my daughter and I looked at each other and without hesitation agreed.

In the days since that night, he has taken that ornament down, held it, cried and rehung it several times. It is his way of grieving this holiday… and just as I learned with my own grief…

We all have to go at it in our own way and in our own time… I still need to hang Bruce’s stocking and my grandson needs to hold an ornament… and that’s okay.

If you are struggling this holiday season, please be kind to yourself. Do what you feel is right for you… and simply let the rest go.

To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… How I deal with a “family” holiday

“Trauma creates change you don’t choose.

Healing is about creating change you do choose.“

~ Michelle Rosenthall

Thanksgiving is one of those holidays that in my mind is a “family” holiday. It has always been a holiday where family comes together and the day is centered on playing, the sharing of stories, laughter and love. As a child, my family always spent the day at one of my grandparents’ homes. I loved playing with my cousins and listening to the grown-ups talk.

In my first marriage, we lived too far away from either of our families, so the day was spent with friends and strangers who would have otherwise spent the day alone. Everyone pitched in and the day was spent sharing what we had… food, stories and friendships.

When Bruce and I were married, I loved Thanksgiving! Because we were in Michigan, we usually spent the day with his family… until we moved to Florida. However even then, we always managed to have someone in the family with us for Thanksgiving… even if only for a few hours.

However, when Bruce died everything changed…

The first year I couldn’t bring myself to celebrate anything. I didn’t feel thankful. I was still hurting too much. The idea of celebrating a “family” holiday, when the person I love was gone was more than I could handle. I wasn’t interested… Just the mere idea of the day hurt.

So instead, I ignored the holiday completely. I spent the day at a theme park with my youngest daughter and her friend. Most of the day is a blur… But it created the distraction I needed, while still allowing me to spend time with someone I love.

The next year, I was still hurting but there were things I was thankful for… especially my family. It felt right to celebrate the day again. This was the year I spent most holidays with my second daughter and grandson’s family. The effect of that little Bubba on my healing was (and is) amazing.

Last year, the third year, I traveled to merry old England to spend the holiday with my oldest daughter and her husband. A first it seemed so odd to celebrate Thanksgiving in a country that does not share this holiday. Yet, it soon became fun as everyone else seemed eager to pitch in… They were so curious and more than happy to help us find all the “traditional foods” we needed for our feast.

This year was different… It was my fourth Thanksgiving without Bruce, yet it was most like the first. That probably seems a little strange since now I have a home once again filled with love and people. However, this was my daughter’s first year without her son (my grandson). He had left the weekend before to spend the holiday with his father. This was a first for all of us. It felt strange and wrong… There was definite grieving for a family (and a tradition) gone.

While we knew we could have still had a “traditional” meal, we both felt the day would have been too empty without our little Bubba. So, we left as well, and spent the holiday at the beach… Instead of turkey and stuffing, we feasted on meat, cheese, bread and wine. Instead of a room filled with family, there were two of us…

There were tears and a bit of sadness… I missed Bruce… and I missed having that little guy to make me smile… to give us hugs and tell us that he loves our little family. However, all was not lost… There was also relaxation, great conversation, laughter… and the knowledge that we would be a family again in just a few short days.

That day was yesterday. How happy we were (and are) to be together again… Things feel right today with this little Bubba filling the house with his endless love. In fact, the only thing still missing is Bruce…

This year was my fourth Thanksgiving without him… my love, my Bruce. I would love to be able to say that it has gotten easier through the years, but that would be a lie. It is still just as hard. I still miss him… I still cry and grieve for him… The only difference seems to be the tools I have learned to help me through this grief…

And many of those tools I learned from my littlest Bubba – His innocent love of life reminds me that life goes on… And it is up to me to find those things worth celebrating.

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with celebrating the holidays after your loss? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… More than words

My theme for 2016 has been “Growing in love, spirit and purpose,” and this week has been a reminder of that… A week of deciding if I mean what I say or if those are just words.

All week I have had several things going on… (Who hasn’t?) The biggest one was watching my grandson struggle with a challenge while I felt helpless as one of the adults in his life to help. So many things in his life have changed this year and all of it is completely out of his control… It is all happening to him and he has had no choice in any of it. As a consequence, he has gone through all the same emotions I have experienced as he grieves for what was. (Sound familiar?)

This week, he was facing a two hour plane ride to spend the holiday week away from his Mom… All of this for the first time. As the trip approached, the tears and anger increased. We spent many evenings with him in my lap as I rocked him and simply listened. As the week continued and the emotions increased, we realized that getting him onto that plane was going to be a challenge… So his mother and I made a small (albeit significant change)… We changed our focus with the hope that he might follow our lead.

Every time the tears or anger started, we still held him tight. We still listened. However, at other times, when emotions were calmer, we would talk about the good things… We changed our focus to the positives – the people he would see and the fun things he would do during his week away or the excitement of a plane trip without a grownup to monitor the Cola intake.

Before heading out to the airport, we held hands and prayed over this brave little Bubba… And by the time, he needed to walk onto that plane alone, while he was still scared, he wasn’t crying. We gave each other big hugs and watched as he bravely walked down the gangway… alone.

I wish we had recorded the call that came just a few short hours later… He had done it! He was so excited and so proud of himself. At that point, it dawned on me that we had done for him, exactly what I talk about here all the time…

We didn’t stop my grandson from being sad or scared… Those are valid emotions that need to be recognized and acknowledged. However, when we let that be the focus, he seemed to spiral further and further down. (The exact same thing that happens to me when I let myself get too focused on my grief.) Instead, we offered him another choice… the choice to also look at the positive things… and it worked.

“They” say that God gives us lessons to learn in life, and if we fail to learn them the first time, they will continue to pop up in our life. For me, this idea of controlling my focus… of choosing my attitude has been a perpetual lesson over the last few years. Finding the balance between acknowledging my emotions without letting them take over my whole attitude has been a constant challenge. I’m not sure, but maybe watching someone else struggle with the same thing and being able to help him, was another way of learning the same lesson again.

But that wasn’t the end…

My other challenge this week was the actions of others versus my own expectations of them. Several times this week, I reached out to the people around me thinking I could count on them only to find I was wrong. Each time I reached out and made myself vulnerable to someone else the other person tossed it back in my face… Each time I was hurt… Each time I cried… not sure why they responded the way they had.

That was my second lesson this week… The one that makes me come to terms with why I do the things I do. My first response this week was “never again.” However, it didn’t take long for me to realize that when I do whatever I do, it needs to be because I believe it is right… not because of any preconceived response. Whether I get the response I want or not, I need to do what I believe is right… Perhaps that is my other lesson.

I’m not sure why these have been my lessons or why. What I do know is that I need to do what I believe is right… This is my mantra – to “Grow in spirit, love and purpose”… To serve others in whatever way I can…

To use the divine energy within myself to become a divine reality for someone else by simply being the love and acceptance I am seeking from the world around me…

To make my mantra more than mere words… to live what I say I believe… to make it my way of life.

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with reaching out to others in their pain? How did you manage that? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Some things still hurt… That is just the way it is.

There are a few things in life, I wouldn’t wish on anyone… Some I used to say in humor to relieve the stress, such as a colicky baby. With other things, I am completely serious… One of the things that I really wouldn’t wish on anyone is the loss of your soulmate.

Dealing with that these last few years has taught me a lot about people, patience with others… and heartbreak. I have also come to realize this time of year for me, from October 31 through January 12, is the hardest. During this time, there are a lot of important dates filled with precious memories.

It is a season where time moves forward whether I am ready or not… I must go from one holiday or momentous occasion to another… It is like being knocked to the ground and before I can get back on my feet, I am knocked down again.
It starts with Halloween. From there, we move to my and Bruce’s wedding anniversary, Thanksgiving, my birthday, the anniversary of the day we met, Christmas, New Year’s eve/day and the anniversary of Bruce’s death.

I know to brace myself, because before I can catch my breath from one event, the next one is upon me. If I am honest, what I would really like to do is crawl in bed, pull the covers over my head and cry for 2.5 months… but I don’t have that option. I have responsibilities, and life moves on whether I am ready or not.

So over time, my method of survival has been to take a deep breath, draw on my strength, pull my emotions inward… and try to avoid talking about it because that will bring uncontrollable tears. Don’t get me wrong, I do allow myself the time to cry, but I try to hold that for when I am alone… The problem is I am not always successful.

The first year most people understood that these days would be emotional triggers for me and were very empathetic. Now, however, as I go through this for the fourth time, most people (although not everyone) have lost any sense of patience or compassion. The idea that I could still be grieving seems foreign to them. On the one hand, I know they really have no frame of reference, and I can’t change that. On my end though, it just makes the whole thing hurt worse.

For example, there are two days I know to make plans to take off from the world… Our anniversary and the anniversary of Bruce’s death. These are the hardest for me… My emotions are unpredictable from moment to moment… I know that so I choose to be alone and do whatever is needed to bring me comfort and get through the day.

This year is no different. I made my plans months ago… Anyone who knows me well is aware, whether they agree or not. This year, however, other people in my life have things they want me to do. Weeks ago when it was first mentioned (and while I was less emotional), I explained that I already had plans and why.

This week, however, it came up again. I must admit I was already feeling a bit emotional and now I was caught a bit off guard. I quietly restated that I wouldn’t be there. However, there were other people present who questioned why, so I had to explain myself again. My goal was to be succinct and not go into too much detail, but I could feel the tears starting to form in my eyes as I spoke.

This week it all seems a bit harder to talk about… This week I was more emotional… This week was the start of “the season.” I managed to get through Halloween on Monday – Bruce’s favorite time for innocent teasing with the children at the door (not to mention the candy he denied eating). Then this next week, I will face our anniversary – A day I thought we would celebrate together for many years to come.

So this second explanation was much more quiet… And in the frustration of trying to hold back the emotion, I became a flustered. I doubt my explanation made much sense, but I prayed that would be the end of it… We’ve discussed it twice, after all.

But, no. It came up again… Several times actually. I don’t believe any of it was meant to be cruel or to cause me more pain. However, each time it came up I was thrown off guard and found myself trying to defend something I know no one can truly understand if they have never experienced it.

I can’t even remember what I said each time… I only remember feeling the tears filling my eyes as I mumbled an apology, prayed this would be the last conversation about it and waited for the conversation to just move on…

Throughout the week, I found myself going back and forth between feeling understood versus defending my feelings and the need to be alone. It was like being on a roller coaster while trying to balance to staying in control of my emotions.

I heard everything from “We do understand… I can’t imagine how hard it is to find your soulmate and then to lose them without any warning.” to various versions of “why” questioning. I also heard phrases that felt like a cross between “I’m trying to understand” versus “Get over it already.” For example, “You will be fine… There will be no tears ‘that’ day,” and “We understand, but if you want to reconsider that would be okay too… But if you don’t, we won’t say anything.”

Seriously? It has been brought up several times… I don’t feel like anyone understands… While it hasn’t been said outright, I feel like the world keeps telling me, “It has been 4 years. Get over it already and move on”… but I can’t.

I wish I could help others understand it’s not as easy as they think… It’s not a switch that I can turn on and off… Maybe I should be over it, (I know it’s been almost 4 years), but I’m not… I still love him… I miss him… I still hurt…

And that is the bottom line…

While I am hurt by a lot of the conversations this week, I’m not angry. (That is a big sign of growth for me.) Of the two of us, I am the only one that knows both sides of this coin. For others, I know it must be hard when there is no reference point… when someone has never lost the person they loved beyond anything else… The person they thought they would spend the rest of their life with… I understand their need to give “objective” advice… They mean well… They want to help…

However, what I wish they could understand is…

If you really want to help, just walk beside me for while… Cry with me on my hard days and celebrate with me on my good days… That will go a lot farther toward healing than anything else…

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with feeling judged after your loss? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… What is the opposite of sad?

Through this blog I have met (both virtually and physically) many other widows. The conversation each time is eerily similar to the topics discussed here… While my experience is mine, it is also very similar to thousands of other widows’ experiences… That is one of the reasons I started writing this… I needed to know and I wanted others to know that we are not alone, and our experiences are more “normal” than one could have ever imagined.

I have found over the last two years there is one consistent theme that can be very frustrating… The idea from others in our lives that we shouldn’t be sad. This can be worded many different ways and I have written about those before…

I have heard everything from “Don’t be sad…”
“… You’re not the only one to ever lose someone.”
“… He’s in a better place.”
“… You know you can choose to feel better or have a better attitude.”
“… It looks weak.”
“… Be strong.”
“… What will others think?”
But the craziest one is a form of “You have to stop being sad, because I (the other person) can’t handle it anymore.”

In the beginning, these phrases made me nuts… well, angry actually. I was grieving. I was sad. Why couldn’t people understand that and simply walk beside me for a while? A genuine, caring hug could go such a long way, but the only people who seemed to understand that were those who had walked this journey before me… And many times, the ones who understood this least were usually those closest to me.

As time has passed, I have come to realize that their reaction stems from several things but the two main components seem to be: 1 – They haven’t been where I am and have absolutely no frame of reference for the pain; 2 – It is a real struggle for them to watch someone they love hurt so intensely, while knowing they can’t fix it. In other words, it is a response born out of desperation and fear. I believe they aren’t as frustrated with me as with their own inability to “make it better.”

What they don’t realize (and why it hurts so badly on this end) is these responses completely invalidate our pain and our loss. There is something else they don’t realize. In fact, I just started to become of aware of it in the last few months…

Even when you get to the point where your grief is not the only emotion in your world… Even when you have learned to smile again, you realize that just because you are not sad all the time, it doesn’t necessarily mean you are happy. Simply put, despite what we learned as children, the opposite of sad is not necessarily happy. This particular journey in life is a bit different… It shakes you down to your core, and changes you in ways even you can’t understand.

So I propose something I learned from a Harvard psychology professor… the opposite of sad is not happy, it is simply “not sad.” Happy, on the other hand, is a completely different emotion – and it’s opposite would be… “not happy.”

Most people might argue this. However, a few will understand and most of those will be those of us who have experienced the grief of deep loss.

Before I lost Bruce, “happy” was my norm. Now, “happy” is an experience… “Neutral emotion” is my norm. For me that is my opposite of sad.

There are those around me who don’t understand this. Since “neutral” is not “happy,” they sometimes interpret it as “sad.” Perhaps, they have trouble understanding this because they want me to be as I was before. However, I can never be as I was before… I can’t un-feel this pain that has reshaped my life.

I am still me, but I am different now. Bruce will always be a part of me… and a part of me will always grieve his loss. Therefore, for me, I have learned that the opposite of sad has been simply learning to open my heart to other emotions…

It is learning to be at peace with “what is” rather than grieving for “what was.”

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

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with other’s reaction to your loss? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Who I am

I know I am not who I was;
But I’m not sure I am.
~ Linda, October 2016

For decades, scientists have argued the heredity vs environment theories. Today, most will acknowledge that it is a bit of both. If you had siblings or multiple children, you also most likely agree. Sharing the same DNA does not mean replica children. It is also our experiences that help shape and mold us. They seem to add the details in our life’s tapestry that significantly affect who we become.

In other words, who we are is fluid based on our experiences. Once we have experienced something, we cannot UN-see or UN-hear it… We cannot UN-experience it. So by nature, each experience creates constant change and growth in each of us.

I believe most of us would agree… There is not a lot to argue… or ponder… Until those big experiences knock us off our feet. Then there is a lot to think about…

After my first marriage ended, I realized that I had spent my whole adult life (up to that point) not being myself… Out of fear, I became whatever was needed in any given moment not to anger my first husband. As a consequence, I had lost any idea of myself and who I was. It took several years of being alone to rediscover who I was and have enough confidence to just be me around others.

By the time I met Bruce, I was pretty comfortable with myself. I was still healing, but at the same time, I was learning how to enjoy life and laugh again. Bruce’s unconditional love and acceptance, however, went a long way to helping me love life again… life with him.

With the love we shared, life changed again… It was filled with all the “normal” marriage and family things, but this time our love for each other was at the core of all of it. During this short time together, we both grew… but we grew together.

No matter how bad things appeared on the surface… issues with our kids, money, job loss, moves, or anything else that life threw our way… the central theme was “We love each other, and we can get through this together.”

I had never experienced that before… The idea that I wasn’t alone or on the defensive was new… and wonderful! I must tell you, I flourished. I stopped acting out of fear and learned to be totally comfortable with being me. It was such a freeing way to live. Maybe it sounds crazy, but the connection and acceptance of each other was so strong during this time together, I felt whole or the first time.

Then it all changed…

Bruce died. It felt like the ground beneath my feet crumbled away, as I fell into an abyss. It was lonely and dark… I was lost.

Losing your soulmate feels like your soul has been ripped out;
Leaving nothing but a shell.
A shell that breathes and moves,
But feels no hope…
not anymore.
~Linda, October 2013

Now it is three years later, and I am doing better. I am still sad, but no longer despondent. I am slowly learning how to me… without Bruce… one person – no longer “two as one.”

As time passes, I am noticing ways I am different now… some changes are small and others are pretty big. For example, I am much more quiet than I used to be. I used to talk to everyone, (which was how I met Bruce). Now, while I don’t avoid talking, and I will smile and nod – maybe even say a “hello” – but it takes a lot for me to actually start a conversation. I enjoy life, and I have learned to laugh again, but I am also quite content to be alone – lost in my own thoughts. As a former music and drama teacher, I used to be completely comfortable entertaining, singing or being in front of a crowd. Now, I content to sit back and observe… and I only sing when it is along with the radio, and I am alone.

But, I think the biggest change for me has been trust. I used to trust everyone… until they gave me multiple reasons not to. When Bruce died that all changed.
So many people made empty promises, others just disappeared and still others actually took advantage or tried to take advantage of my situation for their own gain. While none of these will be a surprise to any other widow(er), I was caught completely by surprise. It even reached a point where I didn’t even trust God anymore.

However, through journaling, meditation and studying the books Bruce read, I am learning to trust God/life again. I learning to trust that things will work out the way they should in their own time. Grief has changed me immensely, and I am still learning who I am now. I know I will never be that person I was; I am different now.

But I guess, through this experience I am learning to be who I am meant to be…

New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings…
~ Lao Tzu

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with figuring out who you are after your loss? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Never good at goodbye

“All I could think about was how you were taken away
and now our house…
our space was going to be taken too.”
~ Linda, Oct 2016

From our first goodbye to this past weekend, I have never been good at saying goodbye to Bruce… And I’m not sure I ever will…

Bruce and I met on a small sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands. We had a beautiful week in paradise and seemed to connect from the moment we met. On the last night of the cruise, reality sunk in, (aka – I got scared), and I told him it wasn’t going anywhere… I said my first goodbye. Then I cried the whole way home. I couldn’t do it. Inside I knew I was walking away from the best thing that had ever happened to me. I knew “goodbye” was not what I really wanted.

My first goodbye and already, I knew I couldn’t do it.

As soon as I arrived back home, I emailed Bruce and asked if he could forgive me enough to at least be friends. Six weeks later, we both knew it was a lot more than a friendship… This was going to be forever.

On my first trip to Michigan, I remember seeing his smiling face as I hurried down the passageway in the airport to the best hug (and kiss) ever! It was a wonderful weekend… like something out of a fairy tale. However, the idea of leaving and saying goodbye, started the flow of silent tears from the moment I awoke on the last day… and as I looked at Bruce, I caught him wiping his own eyes more than a few times. At the airport, we both sat silently holding on to each until the last possible moment… Yes, we were that couple. Then, once again, I found myself crying quietly on a dark plane all the way home.

Our second goodbye, and again, I knew this was the part of our relationship I hated.

The next few months found us taking turns flying back and forth between Michigan and South Carolina. Each trip started with the same total joy of being together again and ended with the same complete sadness at saying goodbye.

During the summer of that year, we planned for me to go to Michigan so we could spend those months together. Since I was driving (and in order to spend as much time together as possible), Bruce flew to SC and drove back up with me. At the end of the summer, the idea of goodbye was overwhelming for both of us. As we rode back to SC, we both got more and more quiet the further south we drove. The idea of another tear filled goodbye was even harder after so many months of being together.

It seemed like the stronger our relationship, the deeper our love and the harder it was to say goodbye.

I remember after several months, Bruce’s Dad asked us how long we thought we could keep this up… How long until we quit saying goodbye and got married? I will always remember Bruce’s answer… “Until it gets so hard to say goodbye, we just can’t do it anymore.” Prophetically, that ended up being our reality less then six weeks later.

Once that decision was made, things moved fast. Within less than a month plans were made for a move to Michigan and a small, quiet wedding. The weekend before the move, Bruce flew down to help with last minute move preparations. It was an exciting weekend for both of us, knowing that the endless cycle of “goodbyes” would soon be over. It’s funny, but even then… even knowing that we were about to be together for the rest of forever, it was still hard to say goodbye at the end of the weekend… Even knowing we would see each other in just a few short days, neither of us could say goodbye without tears.

For the next few years, Bruce and I rarely spent a night apart. In fact, even saying goodbye on workday mornings resulted in long hugs. How in the world were we to know how short this time together would be… and a final goodbye would come all to soon?

But it did come… in a breath… in the middle of the night… Bruce’s heart stopped and nothing I (or anyone else) could do would bring him back. I remember being allowed to stay with him until the Medical Examiner came to pick him up. I remember touching his face, holding his hand, kissing his forehead… knowing it would be the last time.

When the time finally came, with tears pouring down my face, I said goodbye… for the last time.

However, as most of you know from reading this blog, accepting the idea that that was really our final goodbye has been a struggle for me. I find myself, even now 3+ years later, still half-expecting him to walk back through our door… I still feel his presence next to me… And I still find myself “talking” to him. (I know it probably sounds crazy… unless you have been where I am.)

Up until this past week, I thought I had said all of my goodbyes to Bruce.

However, as one family out of thousands living on the Florida Atlantic coast, we were facing a category 4 Hurricane Matthew. In Florida, the only mandatory evacuations were on the barrier islands… However, even our area was expecting a 9 -11 foot storm surge, so we made the decision to evacuate as well.

So after hauling everything from the yard and porches into the garage and putting up the hurricane shutters, I found myself face to face with another goodbye… Goodbye to our home… The space Bruce and I had shared… It seemed so unreal. I had already lost the man I love… the man who still owns my heart… and now I had to face the fact that this space we had shared, might very well be taken too. It seemed so wrong. As we loaded the cars and headed west, I held onto Bruce’s jacket (one of the few things I chose to bring along) and cried.

Once again, even though I thought I had made so much progress, I found I was still no good at saying goodbye.

But, God is good… three days later, we returned to find not a thing wrong with our home. The landscaping needed some work and everything needed to be put back in its place, but we were spared… We were blessed…

And… I have learned that I may never be good at saying goodbye to Bruce… and maybe that’s okay.

Note: I would like to thank each of you for your prayers and good thoughts over the last week as my family and I dealt with Hurricane Matthew.

What about you? Did you (or do you) struggle with saying goodbye after your loss? How do you handle it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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