Tag: grief

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… Still Trying to Figure It Out

I can’t believe you are no longer here…
… No longer looking at the same blue sky.
… No longer smelling the fresh air of morning.
… No longer feeling the sand under your feet.
… No longer looking at the same moon
or smelling the salt air
or hearing the whisper of the wind.
… No longer able to share experiences.
No longer a part of this world…
No longer a part of MY world…
I wonder if this will ever feel normal…
~ Linda, April 2017

I have spent so much time this week wondering if I will ever get used to this whole grief/loss/widow thing… It’s weird…

I will have days, even weeks, where I feel like I am doing okay – good, even. Then something happens – something I would have been excited to share with Bruce. It can be something big, like a bonus or promotion at work, or it can be something as simple as a quiet moment on the porch watching the sun set.

In the first few seconds, I find myself thinking, “Oh my gosh, Babe, you’re not going to believe this…” Then, just as quickly, I remember where my life is and where he is… or isn’t. He isn’t here… and I want to cry all over again.

This week, though, I found myself wondering how long will this go on? Will I ever get used to this? Will life ever feel “normal” again? And for goodness sake, why can’t I just let go?

I’m not sure there’s an answer to those questions, but I figured out a few things that I believe hold true for me…

While listening to a speaker this week (I can’t remember his name), he quoted the scripture, “Perfect love casts out fear,” and a realization hit me. As I have said, before when I first met Bruce, I was healing from an abusive past. However, his unconditional love and acceptance changed my life. And the best part is, he (and his family) said I changed his world for the better, as well. We both came into the relationship with our scars, but found healing in the love we shared. For us, it really was a perfect love.

When he died, I felt like I lost that… a lot of the old fear, worry and self-doubt returned. I didn’t think I could survive without him… But I have. I still miss him, though… And there are still days when I doubt myself and wish more than anything he were still here… More than anything, I want to feel him hold me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

I’m not sure if what I’m about to say will make sense, but I will try because I have read about and talked to other widows and heard similar stories and similar frustrations…

Another thing I miss is Bruce’s quiet, gentle soul… He was protective but not aggressive… loving, not controlling… I mention this because since he passed, I have experienced a side of our culture that I would have sworn didn’t really exist… It is hurtful, and it is frustrating… And it involves a few beliefs out there about widows…

(1) We are desperately seeking a new husband. – This is a NO! At least, not me… or most of the widows I have spoken to. I am constantly shocked when people tell me to “move on and find someone new.” (Seriously?!) Give me time… Time to grieve… Time to heal and figure things out… However long it takes. This is not a switch that can be simply flipped on or off. Please just trust me, I’m not saying it will or won’t happen. I’m not saying “never,” but not right now… and there will never be a “hunt” or desperate search.

(2) Widows are desperate for sex. – Can I just say how absolutely insulting this is?!… Not just the thought itself, but the way it plays out. It blows my mind! Maybe it is today’s culture (and maybe I just don’t fit in), but getting random, inappropriate (aka – crude) messages from men (usually married or in a relationship) absolutely infuriates me.

Now, as I try to find my way in this world without Bruce – as I learn to stand firmly on my own two feet – I find myself remembering advice he used to give that I laughed off at the time. He would tell me to be cautious… to be kind and accepting of where people are on their journey, but trust needs to be earned, not just given out freely. Since Bruce died, especially as more time passes (and I experience the two scenarios above over and over), I realize how true those words are… And I miss him even more.

I always told Bruce he was my hero… Those words are so true…. And now, I miss my hero… I miss having him beside me… And I’m not sure that will ever change…

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… 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… Happily Ever After

My heart breaks every day
When I awake and remember
That I am here…
And you are gone.
~ Linda, February 2016

My little family spent last Sunday in a theater watching a movie we have looked forward to seeing for months. It was a favorite when it came out in cartoon form many years ago, and now Disney has brought it to life – Beauty and the Beast. We loved it then… and we love it now!

I grew up loving fairy tales with their “happily ever after” endings. My Mom always took us to the theater downtown to see every Disney movie, from Cinderella to Sleeping Beauty to Snow White. We also had a huge red book of Fairy Tales (that I still have) which I read over and over until I had memorized every story.

As a consequence, I grew up believing that “wishes really do come true,” and the idea of falling in love and living “happily ever after” was just as real as the house I lived in and the swing set I played on… (Naive, I know.)

However, I learned pretty quickly that life isn’t always a fairy tale…  My dreams came to a screeching halt in my first marriage. Even though the violence and shame started almost immediately, I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe that if I could love him enough, he could love me… He could love us… It took twenty years for me to face reality. There would be no “happily ever after” for us… I had children to protect… I had to leave.

It took three years, before the divorce was final… But despite the odds being against us, the courts recognized the abuse and took away his parental rights – my children were protected… A miracle that is not often seen in small town, southern courts.

I won’t lie though… By this point, I was completely cynical about “love” and “happily ever after.” I was sure there was no such thing as love and definitely no “happily ever after” – I had been fed a lie, which I had bought hook, line and sinker… But no more…

Whenever I saw couples holding hands or snuggling I would shake my head. “Stop pretending! Stop being so ridiculous. Just have fun and live your life, but for goodness sake, be honest – There is no such thing as love,” I thought. And I took my own advice… I started having fun, living my life and being honest. Little did I know, I still had some more learning to do… I needed to learn that sometimes… just sometimes, Fairy Tales really do come true…

Our fairy tale started on a small sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands when a man named, Bruce and I sat down next to each other to fill out our cruise paperwork… Ten months later, I was moving to Michigan so we could live “happily ever after.”

But sadly, our “happily ever after” only lasted 8 years and 18 days…

In the movie, when the Beast dies, Belle cries… She tells him she loves him… She begs for one more chance… one more moment together… And… her wish is granted. The Beast is brought back to life as a human – healthy and strong and kind… And (we are led to believe) they live happily ever after…

And I cried… I love the story! I do believe in a love like that now… I believe in it, because I have lived it…

But, what made me cry was the awakening of feelings I had felt when Bruce passed… Holding him as he took his last breath… Doing everything I knew to bring him back… Watching as the Emergency Responders worked on his lifeless body… and feeling totally inept and helpless and alone… Begging God for a miracle… but not getting one.

I remember thinking God grants so many miracles for other people all the time, so why not this one? I couldn’t understand it, and to be honest, for the most part, I still don’t.

Why are you gone?
Why am I here?
Why does the world keep turning?
Why do I keep breathing?
Please come back… Please…
~Linda, March 2015

I understand that what makes a miracle a miracle is the fact that it is not the norm… but when you lose someone, that “fact” is quite irrelevant. All I could think about was why not now? Why is there no miracle for me? Why not a miracle for Bruce?… For us?

I have to admit, watching Belle get her miracle made me a little jealous. Yes, I am well aware it is a fairy tale… But feelings are feelings…

So, I spent this week, sorting those feelings out. Forcing myself to look for the blessings… the miracles God did give us, and remembering to be thankful for those…

The miracle of Bruce and I finding each other. We lived over a thousand miles apart. I was a school teacher, and he was a truck driver. The fact that we both ended up on the same small boat in the middle of the Caribbean was nothing short of a miracle.

The miracle of our love for each other. I have never felt so connected to and accepted by another person as I did with Bruce. He taught me that life is wonderful and love is real…

Bruce and I both learned Fairy Tales really do come true… And I think that may have been the best miracle of all.

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

Grief is hard. Sometimes the most innocent things can trigger overwhelming feelings that cannot be ignored. Learning to navigate through those feelings is different for everyone. This week, I simply wanted to share some of those feelings – no great truths or answers… Just an honest look at what I felt and how I worked through it. Perhaps there is someone else out there who needs to hear this – someone dealing with the same things… Perhaps they might find the strength they need, as well.

Does any of this sound familiar? 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… A Time to Grieve

… a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance…
~ Ecclesiastes 3:4

At the beginning of this journey, I felt like I cried all the time… I can’t even begin to explain how deep the pain went. I remember people talking about my “emotional pain,” but I can tell you my heart hurt… I mean literally, physically hurt. In fact, it hurt so badly I thought I would definitely die of a broken heart… and I missed Bruce so much, I was okay with that…

But I didn’t die…

Instead, I had to learn how to keep going… how to keep living. As time passed, I learned to “handle” my grief (so to speak). Since most of the world seemed uncomfortable with it, I got better at keeping my grief to myself… I’m still not perfect at keeping it to myself. (I definitely have my off days.) But for the most part, I manage to keep it private… (With the exception of what I choose to share here, of course.)

After a year or so, I learned the best way to keep it under control was to allow myself some “grieving time” each day. It didn’t have to be a lot of time, or a certain amount of time, or at a certain time, but each day I knew I would allow myself some time to open my heart and let the feelings come.

Some days that meant remembering happier days filled with laughter, which could leave me smiling, or crying of loneliness from losing a part of my soul. Some days it meant putting on “our song,” closing my eyes and dancing with Bruce again (even if it was only in my mind). There were times when I simply sat on the floor in the middle of our home, looking at our space surrounding me and questioning why he left me here alone and crying… And other times, I would write in my journal for hours telling Bruce about all the things he was missing… and how much I was missing him… how much I was missing us.

Through the years, I still find this time to be important for my own sanity. There are still days when I miss him so much and it takes everything in me to just get out of the bed, but allowing myself some time to honestly feel what I feel even for just a little while, makes a huge difference.

I don’t know if it is the time of year or just life itself, but things have gotten busier and busier lately. This week, for example, has been absolutely crazy! My work days were longer than normal – much longer – which meant finding time for myself did not happen… And I could feel it.

By the end of the week, I had not managed any time to grieve… no time to sit and remember… no time to let myself feel and release those feelings… no time to let go… and find peace.

There are some people in my life who might think that is good. It is best to stop dwelling on it… But it was not good… Not for me. Instead, I found myself feeling anxious and overwhelmed… crying over things that weren’t worth tears and wondering why I am still here. That is not a good place to be and it is not where I like to live my life. And to be honest, I don’t believe that is what any of us are called to…

We are told there is “a time for everything… A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.” But, there is no definition for the “time,” and I believe that is on purpose. For some, that time may be less or more frequent than for others. But that time – that space – is important for all of us at some point in our lives. For me, at this point, I still need it… and that’s really okay.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t need to cry all day, and I don’t necessarily cry every day. What I do need is just a little bit of time each day to sit quietly and think… and remember. I need time to be thankful for what was… and to not only accept what is, but to embrace it and be thankful for what is ahead… That isn’t an easy space to find, but when I allow myself the time, I can usually get there…

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

For most of us, the grief journey is a hard one. Learning to navigate the path is different for everyone. I am simply sharing what works for me in the hope that someone else who needs it might find the strength they need, as well. Does any of this sound familiar? Do you take time to grieve? I know that can look different for different people. What about you?

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… 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… How Are You?

(Re) Construction Zone Warning:
Please pardon the mess…
This area may look like an emotional mess as I work towards recovering from my grief.
Some days the mess you see will look worse than it really is.
Other days it will look better than it really is.
But most days it will look just like it really is… emotional chaos.
Please just send love and understanding until I have worked through my grief.
~ Linda, October 2013

How are you?… That’s a question most of us ask and are asked several times a day. For the most part, it is a rhetorical question… One almost “required” by society as a polite greeting. So, do we really want a true answer? Do we ever give a true answer?

Before Bruce passed, my response was usually “FANTASTIC! How about you?” And when someone actually gave an honest answer, I was immediately uncomfortable if it was anything but positive. But why? After all, I had asked… shouldn’t I care enough to want a true response?

When Bruce passed away, I felt torn when it came to this question… There was a part of me that didn’t want to ask this question… I was so caught up in my own pain, it was hard to see or care about what others were experiencing. (It sounds harsh, I know… but the point of this blog is to be honest.) There was also another part that didn’t quite know how to answer this question… If I gave my standard “Fantastic” response, it seemed ridiculous. Everyone who knew me knew I was far from fantastic…

But, did I dare give an honest answer? Who in the world wanted to hear that?

Two weeks after Bruce passed, I started attending a support group. One of the things they addressed right from the start was this very question. “Be honest,” they said. “People care. They want to know. They want to help.”

So I ventured out on a limb… I started answering with “Not so good… Today’s a rough day” or “I’m just taking it one moment at a time today” or something similar… You get the picture. The responses were not quite what I expected…

I learned very quickly, who cared enough to walk beside me through this… and who preferred not to. I hope this doesn’t sound judgmental, because that is not how I mean it. Let me explain…

John Gottman has written several books about “Sliding Door” moments. (Think of the movie by the same name.) These are those small, inconsequential moments each day, where we are given a choice to engage with someone or not. It is in these small moments where trust is either built because we choose to engage or it is lost because we choose to walk away. It is up to us…

Without knowing it at the time, I was experiencing exactly that… Those sliding door moments. I needed someone to care, but that is not something I had any control over. However, I learned quite quickly who I could trust with my feelings and who I shouldn’t simply by their response when I answered their question.

At first it was hard… There were so many people that I had assumed would be there to help hold me up, but they weren’t. For whatever reason, they chose to either place some distance between us or to walk away completely. In fact, someone I have known my whole life told me early on “Stop telling me those things… No one wants to hear you whine.”

At the same time, there were people who had never been particularly close to me who pulled me close and held me up. They not only made a point of checking on me, they also knew when I was having a rough day without a word from me… They seemed to see it in my eyes even when I tried to pretend all was okay. They came and stood beside me through the all the legal stuff, all the “firsts,” and all those moments I didn’t think I could get through on my own.

It’s funny, but the trust really was built in those small moments. And these are the people I owe my life to… I don’t think I would have made it without them.

It has been four years now, and life has moved forward… I still grieve, and I still have rough days. But most of the time I can honestly say I am doing much better. Now when someone asks me how I am, (for the most part) I respond with “Fabulous! Thank you for asking.” If I am honest, I have to say there are days when I feel it more than other days… And on those other days, it is a “fake it till you make it” response… but that’s okay too.

In fact, now I am able to follow it with “And how about you?”… And mean it. Now I understand the importance of stopping to listen… The importance of those sliding door moments… Those seemingly inconsequential moments where I know I can choose to make a difference for someone else… The same way others made a difference for me.

So… How are you, my friend?

For most of us, the grief journey is a hard one. Learning to be honest with our feelings and who we can safely share those moments with can be overwhelming at times. Learning how to safely pass through this journey is different for everyone. 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Sometimes the Healing is in the Aching

This week I would like to try something a little different… I would like to be a bit vulnerable and share my journey through the years… My journey of grief and healing as I am living it by sharing bits and pieces of my journals.

Before Bruce passed away, I had never kept a journal before. After he passed away, my mother suggested it might be helpful to work through my emotions. I was skeptical, but gave it a try. Now I am a huge believer in the healing power of journaling… by writing honestly about my pain, I began to heal.

These are a few pieces from my journey which began in January 2013…

February 2013

I feel so sick to my stomach every time I think about my “new reality.” … Grief can’t be just the crying and pain. It needs to include the pain and work of rebuilding, but most of the time I just want to cry. If I work on rebuilding, it feels like I am accepting this whole thing. I know I have to eventually, but I haven’t yet. I still want him to come home… I still hate it! It still feels wrong. Every time I let myself think about it, I fall apart. I hate this!!! Oh God, I don’t want to be here alone! Please! Not alone! I love him! I don’t understand why… God, please help me to not hurt so bad. Please!!

Babe, I was who I was because you were beside me. Now I am who I am because you aren’t. This grief seems to have no end. The pain is so deep and so intense. How will I endure this for the rest of my life? I am so frustrated… so tired… I just want to be able to smile again…

April 2013

All I could do today was think back – remembering moments in time, what his arms felt like, his breath on my skin, his smile, and the kindness in his eyes. I miss him so much. This just keeps getting harder and harder. Last night’s support group was basically good – actually the discussion was great. The lesson, though, was a little preachy. I understand the point was to keep moving forward and monitoring my behavior so I don’t wallow in my emotions all the time…

I am grieving. I will work through my emotions in time but there is no rush; nor is there a wrong way to feel. I have been praying for God to show me how to have hope again…

September 2013

A lot of self-awareness happening lately… It is what Bruce was always trying to teach me with the Tao stuff. Like the river that flows around the rock instead of trying to move it, I need to let the issues that upset me go… I can’t change these things (the rocks in the river) and letting others put their opinions, judgments, etc. on me only makes me feel bad. But I don’t have to take them on. I can refuse to “pick them up and carry them with me.” I need to learn how to just drop them where they are spoken, move around them, and keep moving. In other words, their opinions do not make me who I am; I make me who I am…

There are days when I am sad or angry or lonely – whatever I am feeling – that is okay. But that is enough energy – I don’t need to waste any extra energy dealing with guilt and frustration about how someone else feels about my grief. If people think I should be “over it” – who cares! That is their issue – not mine. Bruce’s death is a big enough burden. I do not need to add to it.

November 2013

God, this last week was hard. I know this next week will be harder. You gave me such a wonderful gift in Bruce and I have thanked you and him every day since we met. I know how blessed I am to have known him, but I am sad – I miss him. I really don’t want to do this without him anymore. Please, help me stay strong. We would have been married eight years this next Saturday… but instead I am alone.

I love you, babe! I feel like I am dealing with so much – your death, all the legalities, my growth, finding my worthiness, trying to be strong and honest about how I feel without bringing the world down around me. I don’t know if I can do this… What if I fail?

December 2013

I am really missing you, Babe. I just keep thinking that this time last year were our last few weeks together. I keep thinking about what we were doing, and I had no idea what lay ahead. I am so glad we had such a wonderful relationship… I have no regrets about our time together except that it was too short! And definitely, no regrets about our last few weeks. You are my hero… and always have been. I am so honored.

January 2014

I miss you… I do. But I am realizing that not crying every day is okay – it doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten you OR us. I still love you intensely!… There is so much (legal stuff) I still need to do, but I am not going to stress about it. When people ask about it, I do as you would do – I smile, nod and do it my way and in my time. LOL!! What a great example, Babe! I love you! I will smile at the memories and be at peace with life… at peace with the universe… which lets me know I am (or will be) at peace with God… Getting there anyway.

April 2014

I think God has been carrying me for the last 15 months. I miss you every day, Babe. People say this gets easier, but they’re wrong. It’s just as hard. I still feel like it is an overwhelming part of my life, but it makes people feel awkward, so I try to act like everything is okay… but it isn’t – I am sad. This is like the end of the “Wizard of Oz” when Dorothy realizes no one has what she needs. Dorothy has to help herself – There is no magic trick or gimmick inside a bag. This is my life and no one else can fix it for me.

(Between April and September, I started implementing “Retreat Weekends.” During these retreats, I “turned off the rest of the world” and worked on me.)

September 2014

(After a retreat weekend.) Good morning! Well, it’s Monday… I guess my peace and quiet are over, although I’d rather it were not. : ) The idea of “people” is not exciting but life isn’t lived in a bubble… It moves on. Nevertheless, I am willing to play the game today, face the obstacles and laugh at the ding-dongs. LOL! Boy, I think that is the best attitude I have had in a while. I feel so much better. I know there will still be rough days, but I was stuck in quite a patch of depression and yuckiness. Being able to look at all of this with fresh eyes really helps… I miss you but thinking of you is making me smile… Okay – small tears behind the smile, but still okay. I am thankful for the time we had; for what I have learned and continue to learn from you. Hold on to my heart – It’s yours! I love you, Babe.

This was my shift… my turning point. Since then, there have still been hard days and rough moments. There are still tears and grief… But it is different. I know it is okay to feel what I feel and to work my way through it… The trick is not to stay there, but to keep moving forward (even if I can only take baby steps).

This past week has held a myriad of emotions. I have felt joy and love as deep as I have felt grief and loneliness. As I contemplated what to write this week, I spotted this title on a meme (without credit to the author) and knew that was my point this week…

Sometimes the healing is in the aching.

For most of us, the grief journey is a hard one. It is relentless and learning how to survive this journey is different for everyone… There are legalities, memories, tears and conflicting emotions. 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… There is No Fixing It

Tomorrow is a day of love for everyone… but me.
My love is gone…
~ Linda, February 2016

Well, it is that time of year again… That time when everything around us screams “love” and “romance”… The words and images are everywhere… but my love is gone, and my heart is broken. How do I fix this?

For the past few Valentine’s, I managed to avoid as much of the Valentine’s celebration as I could. I avoided the card aisle in the stores, the floral departments and shops, and (because I don’t watch much TV) the commercials. I suppose it is a dance of sorts, but it has worked for the most part.

This year, however, there is no avoiding it. With my grandson here, he has been planning for weeks what to do for his Mom, his classmates and his teachers. So, this year, there has been no avoiding anything Valentine’s… In fact, for weeks we have been shopping the very aisles I would normally try to avoid.

In some ways, it’s okay – I don’t mind… It makes me smile to see his excitement as he picks out gifts and cards. I have even laughed a few times while trying to reign him in when he wants to buy everything labeled “love” because he wants his Mom to “have the best Valentine’s Day ever.” At the same time, I look at the romantic images, and tears fill my eyes. How do I fix this?

It is still so hard… It has been four long years, but I am constantly finding my love for Bruce has not diminished at all…

My pain is here and
Always will be…
There is no end to our love
And there is no end to the pain.
~ Linda, January 2015

This week, my Face Book “On This Day” feature has included posts from our last trip to Key West together. It was Bruce’s last Valentine’s gift to me. (Although, we didn’t know it at the time.) It was such a wonderful weekend, and those pictures and posts hold precious memories. But every day when I look at them, my heart sinks with reality, and the tears fill my eyes… I miss him… I miss us… How do I fix this?

My heart struggles to reconcile itself with
What my mind knows is real.
~ Linda, October 2013

A few times I have tried to talk about it… I have tried to reach out, but I struggle. In the beginning and even now, when I try to share what I am feeling, I find most people want to “fix” it. They mean well, and as a Mom, I get it… I want to fix things when the people around me hurt, too.

But some things can’t be fixed… This cannot be fixed… But God, how I wish it could!

I’m trying to be brave…
But I don’t feel brave.
I don’t want to face tomorrow.
I don’t want to wake up alone.
I don’t want another day without you.
I am so thankful for the memories…
I just wish they weren’t memories…
I wish they were now.
~ Linda, February 2015

What I really need on days like this is someone who is willing to simply be with me… Someone who won’t lecture or deny… Someone who won’t shame or avoid… Someone who doesn’t need to say anything… Someone who is willing to simply stay beside me and share the load when it gets heavier than I can handle alone, even if it is only for a little while.

I know… That is a lot to ask. It really is. I understand in today’s fast-paced world, most of us want to give answers and move on… But grief doesn’t have an answer… There is no fixing it… It is a journey of tears, courage and growth… It is a process – faster for some; slower for others. And… While some parts are best handled alone, there are other parts which require help.

At what point do I get used to this?
At what point does this feel normal?
Will life always feel like it is only half lived?
~ Linda, July 2015

I know I will figure this out… I know I will be okay… I know I need to spend some time in quiet meditation, and some time reaching out to those who love me. I know there is no fixing it, but there is a balance… a balance that can provide some peace for a broken heart.

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

For many of us, the week ahead is a hard week. Learning how to survive this time of year alone is hard… It can bring up memories, tears and conflicting emotions. 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.