Peace, Love & Grief – Page 38 – There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered

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

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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

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… When You Feel Alone and Scared

During my first marriage, stress and anxiety were a constant. They were a part of everything… In fact, I can’t remember a day where those feelings were not waiting somewhere on the horizon. Even in the “good” times, there was always a shadow hovering over everything… The knowledge that at any moment everything could change…

Life, then, had an odd surreal feeling as my first husband could be laughing one moment and yelling the next. What set him off one day, he could just as easily be fine with the next. That was the problem… It was like living with Jekyll and Hyde. We never knew from one moment to the next which side we would get. I learned to watch the tiniest details of his body language – watching for the slightest change in his eye movements, his breathing, his pace, his language… everything and anything, in an effort to catch a hint of what would might come next.

As a result, I lived in a constant state of anxiety. That feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach was there all the time. It was a horrible way to live… But we did it for 20 years before I finally gathered enough courage to leave. I thought that would have been the end of it. After all, it was over… we were safe… But it isn’t that simple.

Living like that for so many years takes its toll… I knew I couldn’t get over it alone, so I sought help. Almost immediately, I was diagnosed with PTSD. (Evidently this is not unusual for someone from [or in] a traumatic situation.) It took years, but eventually I worked through all that. I’ve written about it before – about how Bruce’s unconditional love, patience and acceptance brought so much healing to my family. In fact, I truly thought I had left that trauma behind years ago.

After Bruce passed away, I received several menacing messages from my first husband which, at first, threw me for a loop. Initially, I found myself emotionally thrown back in time… Those old feelings of panic and anxiety took over the moment I saw his first message. However, this time was different. This time I pulled myself together and decided I was not cowering or hiding. I refused to feel that way and took actions to protect myself.

Why am I sharing this now? Because this week, I find myself with that same constant feeling of dread and anxiety… That feeling in the pit of my stomach that something terrible is about happen. What has triggered it? Everything happening in our society right now. I don’t think it matters which side of the political fence you are on, you cannot deny that as a society we are not at peace with each other.

Each morning I wake up wondering what is going to happen next? How much worse will it get?

Each day I see people being uglier and uglier to each other. I see it on Face Book as people hurl accusations and reduce themselves to name-calling anyone with a different opinion. The saddest part of this is – I see it between friends… Things people would never say to someone’s face (before now) are said on Social Media with no thought to kindness or respect.

In business, I also see customers being more and more aggressive and demanding to a degree I have never experienced previously. In fact, no matter where I go, there seems to be an underlying current of discontent and frustration… Other than children, no one seems to be happy… I mean, really happy.

Yesterday I woke up in the wee hours of the morning with that pit of dread deep in my stomach. As I laid there crying, I found myself asking Bruce – “Why did you leave me here to deal with all of this alone? I’m scared! I need you… And you left… you left me here all alone. What am I supposed to do?”

I always miss Bruce, but this current stream of events has left me feeling deeply scared and alone once again. I miss the strength and security of his arms. I miss those times when he would wrapped his arms around me and assured me everything was going to be okay. I miss those nights when I would wake up in a panic, and he would instinctively reach out to hold me even in his sleep.

Now, there is no one to hold me… no one to tell me it is all going to be okay… I feel alone, and I feel scared… But I refuse to stay here.

I don’t believe we are called to live in fear, but this time I must be the one to push myself forward. If I want to see things change… if I want to see more peace and less anger… I know it is up to me now to do something to affect that change.

Personally, I believe we are each called for a specific purpose. I, also, believe when we were instructed to “love our neighbor” and “love one another,” this means we are being called to a loving solidarity with all humanity… nothing less. So where do I go with that? I’m not completely sure… But I will start with the legacy Bruce taught me…

• Refuse to get caught up in the anger and hate
• Be “for” things not “against” things
• Be open to respectful dialogue; disengage from disrespectful, hate/fear-filled dialogue
• Accept others where they are on their own journey
• Show love and respect to everyone

Will any of this really make a difference? I don’t know, but if enough of us did it, maybe… just maybe we could find a peaceful way through all of this together.

Life will determine your boundaries.
It will push you further than you ever thought possible…
If you let it,
It will take you to the edge.
Do not be afraid;
Do not hold back.
Take a breath,
Take a step
And then another…
Then and only then, can you walk to the edge.
~ Linda, Sept 2013

NOTE: This is not meant to be a political post. I debated on writing about my real feelings this week, because I do not want to be misinterpreted. This is simply my emotional response to my observations… nothing more. I pray that is what I conveyed…

For many of us, these are worrisome times. Learning to navigate these times alone can stir up feelings of loneliness and fear, which can leave us feeling stuck and vulnerable. If any of this sounds familiar, we are 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

Peace, Love and Grief… The Despair of Grief

The sadness is never ending.
The pain is unbearable.
Do you hear me when I call out to you?
… I feel so horribly alone.
~ Linda, November 2015

Have you ever experienced what some poets have called the “bleak midwinter?” If you’re not sure, let me describe it for you. According to the dictionary, bleak means “charmless and inhospitable; cold and miserable; not hopeful or encouraging; cold and forbidding… Now add “winter” to the picture. Do you have a rough idea?

Growing up, I thought I could picture a bleak midwinter in my mind. However, it wasn’t until I lived through several Michigan winters that I actually knew deep in my core what a “bleak midwinter” really is, and the despair that can set in for many of us as one bitter, gray day follows another.

When Bruce and I moved to Florida, I naively thought my “bleak midwinters” were done… But, I was wrong… For there are “bleak midwinters” that can occur within our soul, as well.

According to Rob Bell, “Despair is a spiritual disease that says tomorrow will be another repeat of today.”

For me, that defines the first several years of my life after Bruce passed. Like an eternal, bleak mid-winter, despair set in… My life became a space that seemed to lack any hope at all. I was so deep in the despair of grief, I could not feel the love or hope around me… And without Bruce, I didn’t really care. Each day just seemed to hold more of the same.

As I contemplated the years ahead, all I could see were endless years alone… without Bruce… without love… without hope… And that was my despair.

I can’t say goodbye.
Why did you leave me alone?
Like an empty shell,
My heart is broken,
Wounded,
Empty.
Like an empty cocoon,
It is just a shell with no more life left inside.
~ Linda, November 2013

During this time, many people around me tried to convince me I was depressed. In some ways, that made me angry. I didn’t agree. I knew they couldn’t get it because they had never experienced it. However, I was the one living it, and I knew there was a difference… Grief is not simply depression.

Grief is a response… The depth and length of that response is directly influenced by the amount of pain, and the skills needed to move that pain in a forward direction. With the right skills, forward movement can happen even if the pain is extremely deep, although it may be very slow. However, when those skills are not in place or must be learned along the way, the grief for different reasons may simply stop. Many people refer to this as stuck, unresolved or complicated grief.

Whatever you want to call it, it is rough… And when you feel no one is left to listen, it becomes lonely… which quickly turns to despair.

When we lived in Michigan, I found there was a refuge from the despair of winter… I felt it the moment I walked into a warm space filled with family or friends… a space filled with love. So many times, I remember coming home from work in the middle of winter feeling cold and down. But, the minute I walked through the door, there was Bruce in his bare feet wearing a swimsuit, heat turned up and an umbrella drink in hand. “Come on in,” he’d say with a smile. “It may be nasty out there, but we’ve got summer in here.”

To move from the bitter cold, gray outside to the warm, brightly lit inside was good, but that wasn’t all… That wasn’t enough to break the despair. It was the love that broke through the despair… And it was the same with my despair from grief…

When Bruce died, I spent the first year in shock and anger. Then, I started learning the tools I needed to move forward. However, there were past losses I also needed to grieve before I could heal completely. I finally found myself starting to move forward, but it has been a very slow journey. During the third year, I hit a turning point – I made huge a shift and found myself with more and more genuinely, “good days” – I was finally at a point where I felt I could reach out and make a difference for others. (That, my friends, is a big deal, because the despair of grief is so deep, it is often hard to see past yourself.)

Do not be afraid;
Do not hold back.
Take a breath,
Take a step
And then another…
~Linda, Sept 2013

My guiding mantra last year was “Growing in love, spirit and purpose.” When I chose that theme, I had several ideas for the “purpose” part… I really thought I knew what it would mean. However, God had another idea, and it was much bigger than myself.

This past year, one of my daughters and my grandson moved in with me. In the beginning, I thought I was the one helping them. But in hindsight, I realize something completely different… As time has passed, people tell me I smile more, I laugh more, and I seem happier… more alive.

Why? Once again, my home is a warm and brightly lit space filled with love… Once again, it is my refuge from the bitter cold within myself. By focusing on others (my daughter and grandson) rather than myself, I have found my refuge from my own despair.

So, it turns out, I have grown in love, spirit and purpose. I have come to realize that my purpose was not just to love and help others… I needed their love and help, as well… I am not called to simply serve others but to accept the same in return… Not to expect it, but to accept it graciously when it is offered. No one person completely relying on the other, but a healthy balance of give and take… of love and support.

So, does that mean my grief is gone? That I will never feel that despair of loneliness?

No, of course not. My grief is not gone. I still have periods of time when I find myself falling into that pit, especially when I let myself think too far ahead. The difference is where I choose to focus… on others or myself… on the present or all the years ahead. I don’t believe one is better than the other or that either is wrong.

It is the amount of time I choose to focus on the negative that can be rough. At the same time, if I never allow myself any time to grieve, I can never totally heal… Once again, it is a balance… And finding that balance is simply a part of the journey.

One step at a time;
Looking too far ahead creates worry and doubt;
Focusing on now creates a feeling of accomplishment
And a little more peace.
~ Linda, October 2013

For many of us, the despair of grief can be overwhelming at times. The feelings of loneliness and abandonment can leave us stuck where we are. If you are dealing with this type of despair, we are here… you are not alone. If you remember dealing with this despair, how did you finally move forward? Would you be willing to reach out… 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

Peace, Love and Grief… When you lose the person who believes in you…

As part of my job, I teach several leadership classes. In one such class, we discuss being aware of how others view us using pictures of houses to drive the point home. For example, there is a picture of a “normal” home which represents our view of ourselves. Then, a home where the bushes need to be trimmed and the grass needs to be cut which represents the view of strangers we pass daily. Next is a picture of an unkempt backyard representing your neighbors who can “see it all,” this would be the view of your family and close friends. Then there are pictures of a run-down shack and a treehouse built without any planning representing those people who only see the bad or the quirkiness in us. Finally, there is a castle. This represents those people who only see the good in us… Those who think we are better than maybe we think we are… Those people who believe in us no matter what.

In my life, I have been blessed to have had two people who see me as a castle. The first one was a great influence throughout my childhood… He was my grandfather. He always called me “Little Bit,” and in his eyes, I could do no wrong. He only saw the good, and he always believed I would be successful at whatever I chose to do. Because of him, as a child, I really didn’t think there was anything I couldn’t do (which for my poor mother was not always a good thing… Ha-ha). I remember talking about my dreams and goals for my future and being told “you can’t do that” by others, but I never believed them. Instead, I always believed I could, because my “Pop” believed I could.

But as life would have it, this wonderful man passed away when I was 19. I was young, and this was my first real experience with death. I really don’t remember a lot about my grief or emotions when he passed. What I do know is this was the point where I started losing confidence in myself…

At the time, I was dating my first husband, and I truly thought he would be the one who would fill that “I-believe-in-you” spot. However, through the years, what I experienced was a man who would rave about how wonderful I was one moment, only to turn around and tell me how horrible and worthless I was the next. Since his actions backed up the negative words, those were what I started to believe as well. It didn’t take long to find myself lost in a world where my own worthiness felt non-existent. In fact, for years after we parted, I could still hear his voice in my mind telling me “the world would turn a lot easier if I weren’t on it.”

Then Bruce entered my life and change began to happen. He was a man of few words, and when he spoke, he meant what he said.

One day early in our marriage, I was having a rough day… I was struggling with my own feelings of self-doubt and unworthiness… especially of not being good enough for Bruce. When he sat beside me and asked what I was thinking, I told him I felt like I wasn’t good enough for him… that he had gotten “stuck” with someone else’s left-over trash.

Without a word, he took a piece of paper, crumbled it into a ball, then spread it back out and asked, “Like this?” I nodded with tears flowing down my cheeks. Then, he tore off a very small corner of the crumbled paper and taped it to the middle of a brand new clean piece of paper. He pointed at the small bit of crumbled paper and said, “When you look at yourself, this is all you see.” Then he pointed at the clean paper and went on, “But when I look at you, this is all I see.”

Only a few words and such a simple demonstration, but it hit home… At that point, I knew this man not only loved me, he believed in me… something I had not experienced in a very long time.

Knowing that, I became so much stronger throughout our marriage. My healing had started. However, for the healing to be complete, it couldn’t stop there. At this point, my self-worth was still based on what someone else thought of me… and that is a dangerous place to be…

When Bruce passed away, once again, I felt lost without his affirmations. Because my strength and value were not coming from my core, here I was doubting myself once again. Then in a series of conversations I had with a neighbor, I was repeatedly told I “wasn’t worthy” or “special in any way.” As maddening and frustrating as these conversations were at the time, they showed me I needed to re-shape my own opinion of me… I needed to take it on and own it myself…

This was and still is a daily challenge for me. I do miss hearing Bruce tell me he was proud of me, or that he thought I was amazing even when my accomplishment might seem trivial to the rest of the world. I miss the way even his eyes seemed to smile when I would ask, “Do you love me today?” and he would pull me into his arms and answer, “I love you every day.”

I am not talking about conceit or ego or pride – not at all. Instead, I am referring to an understanding that God created me and loves me just as I am in this moment… If He can do that, I believe I need to be willing to do the same.

Losing the person who believes in you is hard… So is learning to believe in yourself… But it is a battle worth fighting… and believe it or not, no matter who you are – you are worth it!

I am me.
I am the only me that will ever be.
God made me to be unique.
This is my life –
a gift just for me from God.
No one else can live it.
No one else really knows how I should live it.
God will show me.
God will be patient and guide my steps.
I am me.
I want to live the unique life God intended for me…
A unique gift…
for me…
from God.
~ Linda, Sept. 2013

For many of us, whether you are dealing with loss or not, finding our own worthiness can be a struggle. If you are dealing with the loss of the person who believed in you, how have you handled that? OR do you need some support in that area? Would you be willing to reach out… 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Celebrating Bruce

They say angels live among us… I believe that, because I was blessed to hold one in my arms…

Thursday, January 12… This was the 4th anniversary of Bruce’s death. I spent weeks dreading this day, while knowing there was no way to avoid it. For me, this day can never again be “just another day.” Plus, I am determined that he will not be forgotten, so I have built traditions around this day… which helps… These traditions leave me feeling that I have done something to honor this wonderful man who changed my whole world.

In past years, I have either spent this day completely in the company of others or entirely alone. This year, however, I found good a balance… some time with others and some time alone (with Bruce).

Three of us started the day in true “Bruce” style with a breakfast at Waffle House. From there, I went my own way to spend a few precious hours honoring Bruce my own way. Back at home, I lit candles and recited a few traditional prayers, as well as some prayers from Bruce’s Ash Ceremony years ago,…

“We cannot see, but we know, although the road ascends and passes from our sight, that there will be no night. We know that You have taken Bruce gently by the hand and now lead him along the road of life that never ends, and he will find it is not death but dawn. We do not doubt that You will hold him dear. We thank You for the faith that frees us, the love that knows it cannot lose its own and looking through the shadows, sees that You, Bruce and all who love him are always one.” ~ Prayer from Ash Ceremony

Then, I spent some quiet time, writing in my journal. With the business of the holidays, I found myself pushing my journaling time to the side. So, these few quiet moments were precious… To be able to sit in silence and get inside my own head for a while felt wonderful…

“Hi Babe! … How I wish you were still here! … How am I supposed to do this? How am I supposed to do another year without you? I miss you so much! I need you… Today is four years… Four years ago today, I was facing my first day as a widow… my first day alone. I was in so much shock. I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. The reality of what your death would really mean… what life would be like alone had not sunk in… It couldn’t until I experienced it. Now I sit here, looking back and looking ahead, and I feel lonely still. I love the memories – the fun we had, the twinkle in your eyes when you were teasing, the touches as we passed, laying in your arms as we slept or made love – each moment a sweet expression of our love and passion for each other… I miss it all!” ~ Linda, January 12, 2017

Afterward, I headed to the beach where Bruce’s ashes were scattered. With me, I took a Bali flower basket to place into the surf for Bruce… (And a little rum to share.) The baskets represent “giving back what has been given to you,”… And Bruce gave me so much. To make it personal, Bruce’s basket held flowers from both the store and the garden I planted in his honor, charms to represent Bruce – what he loved and his life’s attitude, a letter from me to him, incense to carry my prayers for Bruce to heaven and a few of his favorite quotes. I spent the next few hours (with Bruce) at the beach… remembering, laughing, crying… and sharing a little rum. It probably sounds so simple, but it was such precious time.

The next part of my remembrance brought me back home to work on the prayer flags. These flags are a Tibetan tradition made of brightly colored cloth and decorated with positive symbols and/or quotes. The flags are hung outside, where tradition holds that as the wind blows through them, the prayers and positive energy are carried throughout the world… Blessing all of us.

To start, I took down what remained of last year’s flags and burned them. This way their prayers and positive energy would still be carried on the wind throughout the world. Next, I hung this year’s flags which were painted and designed by several family members and me. The end result is absolutely beautiful and (as a blessing for me) hangs just outside my bedroom window. Now, each morning when I open my blinds, I am reminded of all the good Bruce brought into this world, and how his legacy goes on and on.

The next part of my day was new this year. However, because nature was in charge, I’m not sure it can become a yearly tradition. Let me back up and explain… My daughter, grandson and I have been working the past few months to help the Monarch butterfly population which is struggling. We planted milkweed for them, and had caterpillars almost right away. However, those first few caterpillars were quickly eaten by local wasps. With the second group of caterpillars, we decided to bring all six inside to see if we could raise their odds of survival. This meant replacing the milkweed leaves inside their butterfly cage every few hours to accommodate their voracious appetites, but it proved worthwhile.

On this special day, my grandson and I were blessed to release the first three butterflies in Bruce’s honor… It felt so right, as we watched them hesitate on our fingers before flying away… A beautiful reminder of the English proverb, “Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a butterfly.” Such a simple creature… Yet such a beautiful symbol of courage and new life…

As night fell, we ended the day with one of Bruce’s specialties – something he loved to cook, and I (still) love to eat – cornbread and a bowl of Gumbo.

What a day! It was beautiful and memorable from start to finish… It all felt so right – filled with love and memories of the man who forever changed my world…

I love you, Babe… Always and forever!

“Now the work is left to us, his family, to carry forth the beauty and joy of that life which has been taken from us. Where we weep, Bruce would have us laugh. Where we mourn, Bruce would have us rejoice. But we know he will forgive us our grief, for to grieve is to love, to love is to cherish, and to cherish is to give praise and thanksgiving for the life which has blessed us all.” ~ Prayer from Ash Ceremony

For each of us dealing with loss, the anniversary of that loss is something we must deal with year after year. My hope in sharing my day is to offer an alternative to the normal grieving process we so easily find ourselves in. I can’t say that these traditions make the loss of Bruce easier to handle, but it provides me with a choice to celebrate his life and who he was… and I think he would like that.

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Facing the anniversary of “that” day

Some days the pain is so great.
Some days it is too much.
But still I must put a smile on my face
And walk out to face the world.
I must pretend all is well.
But inside…
The pain is too much…
Too much…
~ Linda, Sept 2013

This week I am struggling. I can feel myself spiraling downward. In just a few short days, it will be “that day.” The anniversary of the day Bruce died… The day my world imploded in one quick moment. Already, I find myself feeling like I have been thrown back four years. All the pain and loneliness closing in, and I have no place “safe” to go…

I can still remember that night like it was yesterday… Waking up to find Bruce struggling to breathe… calling 911… doing CPR on the man I love terrified by what was happening. I remember the doctor coming in to tell me Bruce was gone… spending time with Bruce as we waiting for the medical examiner – touching him and begging him to open his eyes. I remember that last kiss good-bye that he never felt. I remember going home to an empty house and making phone calls to family and friends… But most of all, I remember being alone… totally and completely alone.

Here I am four years later, and despite having family here, when it comes to my grief and this week’s journey, I still feel completely alone. It’s no one’s fault, except maybe my own… the closer I get to “that” date, the more I find myself pulling inward and away from everyone around me.

I don’t want to face this anniversary again. I don’t want to “do” another year without Bruce!

Last night I had a dream… I dreamed Bruce and I were on the beach. It was beautiful, and we were so happy. Then, suddenly he was just gone! I kept looking everywhere for him. I was crying and felt so desperate, but he was nowhere to be found. I kept thinking I saw him. But each time when I touched the person and they turned to face me,… it wasn’t him. Then, my daughter appeared and started helping me look. She kept saying it would be okay… We would find him… But we didn’t – He was gone… I was completely devastated and woke up in tears.

Life in its cruelty
Gives us a gift of love,
But along with it
Comes an hourglass
Counting down the moments until it is gone.
~ Linda, Sept 2013

I know I am spiraling down this week. Nowadays I don’t usually give myself this much space to grieve, but this week I need it. However, I am walking a fine line because I also need to keep my head above water… and that is hard.

Earlier this week, my grandson and I were having a conversation. He was telling me that he was praying for something specific for his Mommy. I struggled here, not wanting him to think of God as a magic genie or to be disappointed if the answer to that prayer is “no.” I tried to explain that God’s answer may be “no,” but we need to have faith that he has something better in store. We need to ask, but then we need to let go and be willing to accept something different… something better in the long run.

But, here was my struggle with the whole conversation… It has been four long years since I lost Bruce. I have worked through a lot of emotions. I have been angry with God and made my peace… Yet, in spite of all I “know,” in spite of all my “good” days, I still grieve for Bruce at some point every day. He brought so much good and happiness into my world, and I miss him. I still want him back… So, do I trust that there is something “better” in store? Do I believe the very thing I am telling my grandson to believe?

I want to… but if I am honest, I don’t know…

I believe God (the universe or whatever name you choose to use) loves me. I believe there is some good to be found even in this loss… I have learned to be stronger that I ever thought possible. I have learned a lot about who I am as a person and my desire to serve others. I have struggled with my faith and came out on the other side with a much stronger faith that is completely mine. I have learned to be more accepting of others, their beliefs and their struggles. I have learned that people are what are truly important in this world… not just some of us, but all of us. I know that until we learn to love and respect each other and all our differences, this world will never find peace.

I guess I am saying, in the quiet of the last four years, I have been reflecting… and growing and changing… which is good. But, I learned all this at what cost? Did I really have to lose Bruce to learn these lessons? That is the part I struggle with… The idea that I don’t know… In fact, I’ll never know…

I just know I am sad this week… more so than usual. It will be four years on Thursday, and no matter what I have learned or what good I can find, I do know I would give it all back to have Bruce back again.

Another year alone;
A year of tears;
A year where no one cares.

Another year of smiling when I feel like crying.
A year of telling everyone it’s all okay.
A year when I feel abandoned.

Another year of going to bed alone.
A year of coming home to nothing.
A year without hugs or smiles.

Another year without love.
A year without laughter.
A year without you, Babe…
It feels like a lifetime.
~ Linda, Jan 2014

What about you? What have been your struggles when “that” anniversary approaches? Have you been able to find the good? Would you say the price of that “good” was too high? 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