grief journey – Page 38 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Dealing with the criticism (part 2)

Last week we started looking at criticism. As I said then, this was one of the first things I experienced on my grief journey, and the idea that anyone would criticize someone when they are already in such pain really threw me for a loop. Initially, I took the criticism in and let it become a part of me. However, within the first year I learned three things that still help me whenever I feel criticized or judged. (Please see last week’s blog for more details on these points.)

1. Believe in myself.
2. Recognize where the criticism is coming from and if respect is a factor.
3. Remember this is my life and no one else’s.

These have become the foundation for what I want to share today… What I learned in years two and three…

During the second year, I started listening to an incredible, motivational and spiritual speaker and author, Dr. Wayne Dyer. If you have never listened to or read his works, I highly suggest doing so. He spoke quite often on how to handle criticism by leaving it behind.

Two of the points he makes have become mantras for me whenever the feedback or criticism I encounter feels disrespectful. The first one is a reminder that what others think of me is none of my business. This one is huge… And it has just enough humor in it to remind me to laugh when I may be on the verge of tears.

The second point states, “When you judge another, you do not define them, you define yourself.” For me this one is important to keep in mind, no matter which side of the feedback or criticism I find myself (and we have all been on both sides). While there is a need and place for respectful feedback, this is a reminder that judgement is never valid because it actually speaks volumes about the person giving it rather than the the person being judged.

Throughout my second year (and beyond), these have become my core mantras whenever I find myself inclined to take the criticism into myself and make it a part of myself. Instead, I remind myself of the fact that just because someone says something does not make it true. My job is to look for respect in their words. If it isn’t there, I can move on without batting an eye. If it is there, then I can look a little deeper to see if what is being said matches what I am seeking to accomplish in this life. From there, I can dig deep and make adjustments, if needed. If not, I move on – no problems… no worries.

While I have read Rob Bell’s books before, year three found me actually studying more and more of what he has to say. I also found myself listening to many of his sermons, podcasts and videos. He is someone who by merely questioning mainstream religious thought became a target of a lot of criticism. However, it never stopped him from doing what he feels drawn to do…

I laugh as he compares criticism to paper cuts and Nerf bullets. That visual has helped me so many times when I find myself on the receiving end… It helps me to simply smile as I move on. In fact, some of his best advice is to do exacty that:
“Ignore the criticism – do what you’re meant to do… and then just keep doing it.”

This was really an extension of year two, so once I had that down pat, I felt another challenge by his words. He, also. states, “Have a thick skin and a soft heart.” The “thick skin” he refers to means I do not take it in and make it a part of myself if it doesn’t belong there… I understood that part in year one. But the second part about having a “soft heart” proved to be harder. At first, I wasn’t quite sure what he meant. Then, I heard him explain, “Do not defend yourself… look for the question behind the question. What else is ‘in the room?'”

In other words, if what someone says in judgement is really more about them, then what is that? What is really going on inside their heart? And… What can I do to help them? Now that is a challenge!

This final thought from Wayne Dyer has really helped me pull it all together so that I can live it day to day. “That which offends you only weakens you. Being offended creates the same destructive energy that offended you in the first place – so transcend your ego and stay in peace.”

In other words, stop looking for reasons to be offended. Besides being a huge waste of energy, concentrating on the details of the criticism only seeks to find validity where there is none. Instead, if I respond with peace, grace and love… and then simply keep doing what I am meant to do, life works much better… for all of us…

This is what I meant a few weeks ago when I said the divine energy within each of us can become a divine reality for someone else by simply being the love and acceptance we are seeking from the world around us.

Shalom, my friends!

Polish your heart
so that it reflects
God’s Love
to the world around you.
~ Linda, February 2016

What about you? Did you struggle with criticism or judgement after your loss? How did you come to terms with it? 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

* 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… Dealing with the criticism (part 1)

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

One of the first things I experienced on this grief journey that threw me for a loop was the number of people who felt the need to tell me how to live… and (in my perception) criticized me when I didn’t do things their way.

Let me back up though… This experience really does have two sides, and we have all experienced both sides. When we are on the “giving” side we call it “giving sound advice,” or “providing feedback.” We mean well, and we believe we are “being helpful.” However, when we are on the “receiving” end and did not ask for the “helpful advice or feedback,” we call it critism or judgement… and many times, it does not feel good.

In fact, at the beginning of this journey, this unsolicited advice and opinions actually made me feel worse. I found that for every piece of advice telling me to do “this,” there was someone else telling me to do “that.” Sometimes I didn’t know what I wanted and other times I knew exactly what I wanted… and the funny part is, usually it wasn’t “this” or “that.”

With that in mind, you can understand that what I perceived fairly quickly was – I couldn’t win no matter what I did, so I might as well do it my way. This was fine, but it didn’t stop the hurt. In my heart, I knew I needed to do something more.

When it comes to the details of what was said to me, I have no intention of making a list here. That is not important in this discussion. What is important is how I have learned to deal with the criticism… and that journey has been a long one.

The First Year

I’ve always hated conflict. So did Bruce… Because of that, we rarely argued. (I’m not saying this was good or bad; it is just the way it was.) As a consequesnce, I didn’t know how to navigate this new conflict in my life. I wasn’t really sure what to do with it or how to handle it.

One of the first things I had to learn to do was to distingush why some opinions mattered more to me than others. I found that it really boiled down to the relationship… did it come from someone I love, a casual friendship or merely an acquaintance?

While I’ve really never been one to bow to peer pressure, up until this time, I had always erred on the side of being a “pleaser” with those closest to me. They mattered to me… Their opinions mattered to me. Therefore, their opinions and words had a lot more impact, either positive or negative.

One of the first things I had to learn to do was to start believing in myself.

According to research, most “pleasers” tend to have a lower self-esteem. I’m not using that as an excuse. In fact, at first I didn’t really believe it. However, once I actually started “peeling the onion,” I realized I had some work to do within myself.

While I knew that my first marriage had left me doubting my self-worth and value, my marriage to Bruce had been just the opposite. He had done so much to build me up. I had become so much stronger during our time together. What I had failed to realize, though, was my self-esteem and value were now just as tightly wrapped up in what Bruce thought of me. Suddenly, without him there to keep reaffirming that, I felt lost… Because my strength and value were not coming from my core, there I was doubting myself and my own value once again.

My first step that first year was to start re-shaping and believing in my own opinion of myself. I am not talking about conceit or ego. I am referring to an understanding of the fact that God created me and loves me just as I am in this moment… If He can do that, I need to be willing to do the same. To help me accomplish this, I started an affirmation board.

I called these my “Intentions,” because it was my intention to start believing in myself without anyone else’s validation. Everytime I had a positive thought or ran across an affirming quote I would add it to the poster… I still do. In fact, it hangs in my bathroom where I can see it in the mirror as I get dressed each morning… On days when I am feeling down about myself, I read through it and remind myself that with or without Bruce, no matter what anyone else says or thinks… I have value, and I am a beloved child of God.

The next thing I had to learn that year was to distinguish where those opinions and advice were coming from… Were these words being spoken out of love and kindness? Or was it something else? While I can never know someone else’s intent, I do know if what they are saying feels respectful or not. When there is respect, I do not feel threatened or belittled. I don’t feel “shut-down” or a need to defend myself. Instead, I feel safe to discuss the topic.

So, respect became my distinguishing factor.

Was the other person respectful of my situation? My grief? Me? If the answers to these questions are “yes,” then I know I need to consider what is being said. Ultimately though, whether I agree or not is up to me… and the other person, if they are truly respectful, will be okay with that, too.

The last thing I came to understand that first year was the idea that this is my life… no one else’s.

Everyone around me may have an opinion on what they believe I should or should not do, but when all is said and done, I am the only one that will know in my gut and in my soul what is right for me… and that is the path I must take.

How do I know what that path is? This may seem over-simplified, but I ask myself two basic questions… 1. Am I at peace with this? And 2. Does this bring me joy?

When I can answer yes to these two questions, odds are I am on the right path for me.

That first year I learned to have faith and confidence in myself, to distinguish between loving words and unkind criticism and that peace and joy are indicators that I am on the right path for me. That was huge for me! I never would have thought that learning to love and accept myself would be such a huge part of my grief journey, but it has been.

In fact, I have come to understand that in every trial there is a lesson to be learned if I am open to it, because growth doesn’t happen when things are easy…

Growth happens when things get tough, and we have to stretch in order to keep moving forward.

Today, I have shared my first steps for dealing with criticism. Each year, I have gained more insight into dealing with the criticism I felt so intensely on my grief journey. Next week (God willing), I will share a little bit more in Part 2.

What about you? Did you struggle with criticism or judgement after your loss? How did you come to terms with it? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… When the ground falls out from under you

This week I was watching the movie, Pompeii, as I ran on my treadmill. Near the beginning, there is a scene in which a man is riding a horse alongside what appears to be a river’s edge when the horse becomes skittish. The man pauses and looks around to see what is causing the horse’s fear. Suddenly the horse rears back, the man is tossed to the round and the horse runs away. The man gets up to chase after the horse, when the ground around him starts to shake and split apart. Just as he realizes what is happening… in that breath of a moment… the ground falls out from under him, and the chasm where he has fallen is immediately filled with water from the river. In the following scene, the horse returns to the gates of the owner’s villa without his rider. The people inside are puzzled… no one understands what has happened to the man, but no one goes looking. Instead, they go back to their business and life at hand, as the movie continues.

Although I have watched this scene many times before, this time it hit me… this is what loss feels like. One minute you are standing on solid ground, (you may or may not have a sense that something isn’t quite right), and the next minute the grounds falls out from under you. Within “seconds” you are drowning in a flood of grief and emotions. The rest of world may wonder what has happened to you, but very soon they return to their own lives.

It is a strange experience… to watch the world go back to their “normal lives” while your world is in upheaval. Everything you thought you knew or could count on is either gone or completely different. Your “normal” is gone. You can never return to life as it was. This is what the world calls a grief journey… This what you are told is your “new normal.”

I spent the entire first year raging against this “new normal.” I felt such a range of emotions. I felt abandoned by God… Bruce… everyone around me. I was jealous of the people whose lives were untouched in my eyes. I felt alone despite the people trying to support me. In other words, I felt a whole gamut of emotions, and while I would deny it to anyone who asked at the time, anger was the unlying emotion to it all.

The second year didn’t fare much better with one exception. I was learning that I had a choice in how I responded to my own emotions. In other words, my emotions were normal and valid. (A person feels what they feel.) However, how I acted on those emotions, aka – my attitude, was up to me… it was my choice.

At first, I was quite resistant to this idea. I could come up with excuse after excuse to explain why my emotions were valid and therefore, my attitude was too. But, thankfully, there were (and still are) people in my life who refused to watch me drown.

I worked intensely with a coach who had unlimited empathy but who wasn’t scared to ask me the tough questions. She didn’t mind making me mad now and again in order to help me move forward in a more positive direction. I, also, found myself reading the books and listening to the speakers that had driven Bruce’s peaceful attitude toward life and people. And finally, out of my anger toward God, I went on my own search and found the answers to my own spiritual and faith questions.

Like turning the Titanic, I slowly began to make the changes needed in my own atttitude to turn my world around. Finally last fall, I had one of those epiphany moments when I realized two major things about my attitude: 1. It is completely my own… My attitude is my choice. 2. This meant my attitude does not need to be a result of my circumstances. I can choose to make it a result of the peace, love and joy in my heart.

Like any journey, this epiphany opened the way for more growth… I came to understand that peace, love, joy and my own happiness do not come from other people or the circumstances surrounding me. Instead, I have to find these within myself.

I have had to dig deep. I have learned to separate the truth and facts from the fictious, negative stories my inner voice loves to convince me are real. This has enabled me to stop playing the “victim” in my own story, and become the victor instead.

While there are many people I have studied and read over the last few years, I believe Wayne Dyer put it most succinctly when he said,…

“Be in a state of gratitude for everything that shows up in your life. Be thankful for the storms as well as the smooth sailing. What is the lesson or gift in what you are experiencing right now? Find your joy not in what’s missing in your life but in how you can serve.”

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Yes, and…

I think one of the hardest parts of grieving is the constant feeling of being judged. I know… I’ve talked about this several times before but only because it IS such a constant phenomenon. There seems to be so many people are SO sure they would do things “different,” (aka – “better”). In fact when this whole thing started, I think I even had that same thought process… I was determined… I would to go to a support group, “get better,” and learn to be a “good widow.” HA! What a load of craziness!

At about the 9 – 10 month point, I remember having a conversation with someone that went something like this…

Them: How are you doing this week?

Me: Okay… trying to get get through each day… still really sad and angry. It’s just still so hard to believe this is all real. I just don’t want to accept it.

Them: How about Bruce’s Mom? How is she?

Me: About the same… She is trying, but she is really hurting.

Silence.

Me: She lost her son… that’s not the natural order of things… I think she is struggling… I think she is still deeply grieving. Who could blame her?

Them: Humph… Well,… you two need to remember that you are not the first people to lose a husband or a son. (All the while, this person’s spouse is sitting right beside them and all of their children are alive and well.)

At the time I was so offended by the callousness of those words, I had to end the conversation or risk being rude. Since that day, I have recalled those words many times, and they have always managed to hit me wrong… up until this week.

This week I had one of those moments when I could say, “Yes… and…”

What is “Yes,and?” It is method I have used in meetings and training sessions when I want participants to feel comfortable offering ideas without worry of being made to feel dumb or silly.

It works like this – Whenever someone puts an idea “on the table,” whether the next person agrees or not, they are not allowed to judge or critique the previous idea. Instead, they may only add their idea to “the pile” by saying, “Yes, and… (fill in with another idea.)”

This has always been a great way to get a lot of thoughts and opinions out in the open without confrontation. Then, once all the ideas have been “safely” offered, the real conversation can begin as we add and mix all the ideas and come up with the best solution available… And all because a “safety zone” was created around the initial communication of ideas.

I can’t remember exactly what I was listening to when it hit me, but suddenly I realized…

I can still end any conversation if that is necessary. However, instead of being angry or frustrated when people say things that are hurtful, what if, instead, I responded in my heart with, “Yes and… (fill in with the reality and ideas).”

So right now… today… I want to go back to that conversation and turn it around. In my heart, I can hear it this way now…

Me: Yes, that is true… and because I am not the only one, I can now (3 years later) offer to walk beside someone who is new on this journey. Someone who is hurting, or lost, or angry… Whatever they are feeling, I am now able to come along beside them, either physically or by way of this blog and say, “I am here too. You are not alone. Let me walk beside you. Let me offer you comfort in knowing that you are not alone and together we can figure this out.”

Yes, and trust me when I say…

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

Yes, and… What about you? Are you struggling on this journey? Looking for another soul to walk beside you? OR are you at a point where you are ready to come along and walk beside another?

This is our virtual community. Let us reach out to another. Let us offer the support we know is needed on this journey… Let us not leave anyone to do this alone when there are so many of us out there.

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

Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… To celebrate or not to celebrate

This past week would have been Bruce’s 56th birthday. Because I didn’t want to cry at the office and I wasn’t sure how emotional I would feel, I made plans to work from home. (After 3 years, most people have either forgotten or don’t know about Bruce so it can just get real weird real fast if I have to explain.) Also, I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do… I only knew I wanted to do something to celebrate his life.

When I mentioned to some of my friends that I would not be at work the next day and why, one asked, “Are you sure? Celebrating Bruce?… Is that healthy?”

It’s strange – in that moment I realized just how far I have actually come on this journey. A year ago, that question would have frustrated me to no end. Now, I recognize it for what it is… a sincere, caring person who honestly doesn’t know and is only asking – not judging. I’ve learned not be offended when people question what I do these days. In fact, I actually thought about it for a moment, considered his question honestly and then responsed, “Yes. For me, it is very healthy.”

I wasn’t on this journey very long before I realized that each person is different. For some of us, celebrating and remembering our loved ones on special days is vital to our grieving process. For others it may be a day filled with nothing but sadness and grief. And for just as many others, they feel it is best to pick up and move on without looking back. None of these are wrong… It just depends on who you are, where you are on your journey and what you need to do… Then you just need to do it, and pay no attention to what the rest of the world says or thinks.

The first year, Bruce’s birthday was just a few months after he had passed away. That year on his birthday, his family and mine gathered together. We held his memorial and scattered his ashes in the ocean off the beach. That spot at the beach is so special to me now… I spend a lot of time there. On special occasions, such as his birthday, I always bring something to commemorate the occasion. So I knew I would spend time at “our spot” on the beach – that would be the main objective and destination for my celebration.

When I awoke, my first thoughts were “Thank you, God. Thank you for Bruce’s life and how it changed mine. Thank you for walking beside me today and giving me the strength to keep on going.” Those are sincere words, but I won’t lie… I had several tear-filled moments throughout the day. I miss him. But I also knew that I could either spend the day wallowing in grief and sadness and make the day all about me. OR… I could allow myself the tears within reason but dedicate the day to celebrating the man who changed my world. (I have learned, celebrating is the healthier choice for me.)

The day was beautiful – blue skies, a nice breeze and 80 degree weather. It was just high tide as I made my way to the beach. Since it was the middle of the week, the beach was almost completely void of people. The privacy afforded by the empty dunes was wonderful. I could talk to Bruce, sing, cry, shout… whatever… no one was close enough to even notice. I brought a couple of Cannoli Rum shots for a toast – one for me and one for Bruce. : ) I also brought a birthday cupcake to “share.” I spent the next several hours on the beach – relaxing some, walking some, but always reminiscing – stories that made me laugh or cry… or both.

Once I returned home, I poured a glass of wine, put on “our song” and spent the evening looking at photo albums, starting from Bruce’s birth up through a few weeks before he passed. I pulled out old notes and cards – reading the messages and remembering the precious memories surrounding each one.

All in all it was a beautiful day filled with laughter, tears and sweet, sweet memories. So the question was, “Are you sure? Celebrating Bruce? Is that healthy?” I still say, “Yes.”

Why? Because I want him to know he is not forgotten… And I want to do something to let the world know he was here… But the main reason I celebrate is because…

The end of the story is never the end of the story… Bruce’s legacy of love and kindness will continue to live on in those of us who knew him…

And I want to celebrate that!

What about you? Do you still celebrate your loved one in some way? It may be something simple or it may be something grand… Would you be willing to share it with us?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… For our friends and family

Did you know… 800,000 people are widowed each year?

Did you know… 700,000 of those are women?

Did you know… most widows live in poverty? (Over 115 million world wide)

Did you know… for the past thirty or more years the rate of poverty among elderly widows is consistently three to four times higher than elderly married women.

Did you know… “death of a spouse” is listed as the #1 stressor on the stress index scale and is considered one of life’s most devastating events?

Did you know… 60% of those who lose a spouse or significant other will experience a serious illness within 12 months?

Did you know… insomnia is one of the most common symptoms for a grieving spouse?

Did you know… if a man survives his 50s, he will likely live to “old age?”

Did you know… The average age of widowhood is 55, and 75 percent of women will be widowed by age 56?

Did you know… most widow(er)s lose 75% of their support base when their spouse dies?

Did you know… after 3 – 4 months most of the remaining support fades for a widow(er)?

Did you know… most widow(er)s lose touch with their in-laws within a year of a loss?

Did you know… scamming and manipulation are common practice toward the widowed?

Did you know… it really is possible to die of a broken heart? Widow(er)s have a 30% elevated risk of death in the first 6 months after their spouses died.

Did you know… almost half the women over 65 years of age in the US are widows and about 7:10 of these women live alone?

Those are the statistics, but let’s talk about the real world… Oh wait, that is the real world.

These are not pretty numbers… They do not reflect what Hollywood tells us. Instead, they tell us the truth… They tell us the reality of many of your loved ones’ lives.

Do you know someone who is widowed? More than likely, they spend most of their time alone. More than likely, they fall into many of these statistics. It is also more than likely they will not tell you. I know because I fall into many of these numbers just as so many other widows I have met on this journey.

While every statistic is not true for every person, you might be surprised to know what is true. To give you an idea, I will share “my statistics.”

When I read these numbers, immediately I know I am blessed. I have a wonderful job with retirement plans for the not-to-distant future. While I do not live in poverty, many of the women in my initial support group were unable to support themselves and were losing their homes. Several were looking for room-mates… someone to share expenses, or a room to rent in someone else’s home. They couldn’t make it alone financially, but their families were not able (or willing, in some cases) to help either.

I have not been seriously ill since Bruce died. We were both into health and fitness, and I have continued that practice to this day. I learned a long time ago that exercise produces endorphins (a natural, self-produced, “feel good” chemical)… and goodness knows, I can definitely use that!

I have had sleep issues since Bruce passed. For the first year or so, I would wake up most nights at the exact same time I was awakened the night he died. (Trauma related, I suppose.) Now, that only happens a few times a month. Most nights, while I go to bed in time to get 8 – 9 hours of sleep, I usually wake up every couple of hours and remain awake for 30 minutes to an hour each time. If I can manage 4 – 5 hours total, it is a good night.

Bruce was only 52 when he passed away, and I was 51… I believe that covers those two statistics…

I did lose MOST of what I thought would be my support base. However, I gained many new friends who have been by my side day in and day out. They have become my “trusted few,” and I am forever in their debt.

As for my in-laws, they are wonderful. I was terrified of losing touch with them (and told them so) after Bruce’s memorial. However, after 3 years, they are still as close to me as ever, and I love them so very much.

Since Bruce died, I have definitely encountered my fair share of scammers and manipulation. It is amazing how many people are quick to take advantage of someone in a vulnerable state. Some of it has come from phone calls or sales pitches. (Those were easy to recognize.) Other situations have come from people I thought were my friends or acquaintances who I thought genuinely cared. These are harder to recognize. However, I have gotten better at it… or maybe I have just learned to be a lot more cautious. I used to trust anyone until they proved (several times) they shouldn’t be trusted. Now I hold back on the trust until I am sure of their intentions.

I have not died of a broken heart (obviously), although I certainly thought I would the first year. My blood pressure is slightly higher than before (although still very normal). Now, (years later), good health through natural healing is my goal.

I live alone and spend most holidays alone. However, I consider myself blessed. Even though we are a scattered family, my kids make sure I am “covered” for the “big ones,”… and I am learning new ways to celebrate the others. What never ceases to stun me into silence, though, are the people who say they are jealous of my solitude… Inside, I shake my head… They have no idea! I always want to tell them there is a difference is choosing solitude and being thrown into it unexpectedly.

As for me, I really am adjusting… slowly. In other words, each day I am learning to to be a little more okay by finding the blessings in my circumstances.

But what about your neighbor, friend or family member? Do you see them or their situation in those numbers? Is there anything you can do to make a difference? Are you willing to do that?

Please… don’t be afraid to reach out and make a difference…

Do you want to share your story or your thoughts? Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… The tiger in a cage

I am learning.
Healing is finding peace within myself…
Not trying to draw it in from others…
Linda, Septermber 15, 2013

Grief is one of those things that people try to understand while at the same time trying to avoid the experience. I remember being told to “give it time.” In time, my “heart would heal.” However, some people (and books) were actually daring enough to admit that the pain would never completely heal… I remember reading that it would be more like a scar that still caused a dull ache every now and then.

Perhaps both of those experiences are true for some people – however, not for me. After three years, I can say without a doubt, it still hurts… a lot! For me, grief is more like a caged tiger… You may think you have it under control, but you must check the strength of the bars daily just to be safe.

Soon after Bruce passed away, I started tracking my dreams in my journal. I have always believed that our dreams subconsciously tell us a lot about what we are really thinking and feeling. They are our mind’s way of processing our life and emotions. Writing and tracking my dreams has allowed me to acknowledge and deal with a lot of emotions throughout this journey. I wrote about one of those dreams on the morning of January 24, 2013, just two weeks after Bruce’s death.

I don’t think I can survive this. Everyone says I’m doing great, I’m gonna be okay, I’m strong… but I don’t think so. This is more than I can bear. My heart is in pieces. I can’t even breathe and to move feels like a huge chore… This pain is too intense. No wonder some people die of a broken heart. Survival is such a struggle right now… You were my whole world… and now my world is gone.

I woke up last night about 11:30, and the song, The Hurt and the Healer, was playing. (I’ve never heard it before.) Before I woke up, I was dreaming I was on a playground, curled up in one of those baby swings. My guardian angel was pushing the swing and gently coaxing me to climb out. Then, he started singing that song, and I woke up… I think that dream and that song were sent to me for comfort…

This dream was all about my “tiger”… But I don’t believe it was “in its cage” yet. I was only a few weeks into this journey – I was still numb and raw and struggling for air. This was the dream of a woman who wanted to quit… But my life has become a testament of that same woman who has refused to quit.

As I said, for me, grief is like a tiger in a cage. One must learn to live with that tiger because ignoring it is denial and that holds a different set of dangers. Instead, one must learn to be courageous, and acknowledge it. However, never think the tiger has become tame enough for you to simply leave the door open or to go into the cage and sit peacefully beside it. No, it will always be dangerous… It will still devour you if you allow the opportunity.

In the last year, I have learned to decide my attitude before the day begins. I have learned to keep my tiger in its cage by starting the day with gratitude before my feet ever hit the floor. I have learned to be very careful about the first things I “feed” my mind in the morning. I stay away from email, Facebook, the news, or anything that might move my thoughts in a negative direction before I have had time to remember the blessings still surrounding me.

Before I started this practice and on the days I forget, it is like opening that tiger’s cage. It is dangerous territory. There is a saying that the things we focus on, expand. So for me, when the negative stuff is the first thing in, my mind starts to focus on that. Soon that focus turns to my grief and pain… And before I know it, the pain has expanded and takes over my day (or several days).

The other thing I must remember is that I will impact every person I encounter in a day… So my first choice of the day will not only impact me, it will impact everyone I meet, as well. It is up to me to decide if that impact will be a positive or a negative one.

I know that my grief and my pain were never my choice… That is my “tiger.” However, how I deal with it, my attitude and my daily outlook IS my choice. So, whether I choose to let that tiger loose or place it safely in its cage, is up to me.

I am responsible daily for choosing my attitude… And that attitude will determine the impact I have on the world around me.

I don’t always make the right choice… Some days I open up that cage, walk right in and sit for a while. But as time goes on, I am spending less and less time in that cage…

And that is my choice.

Do you have a story to share? A story about coming to terms with your grief? A story of your own tiger and how you handle it?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… This can’t be the man I love

Some days I am just lonely… I could be in a crowd of people or with a group of dear friends, but knowing that Bruce is gone – I feel lonely. Today is one of those days. I remember another one of those days. The day I picked up Bruce’s ashes from the funeral home… That day I felt the most alone I have ever felt – both physically and emotionally.

I need to start this story by going back… back to the hours, days and weeks after Bruce passed away. Some of these memories are sketchy, which is normal due to the shock the body experiences at times of such trauma. But because I almost immediately started keeping a journal, most of these early experiences were captured there. When I reread these entries, I find that I remember some of it, have absolutely no recollection of other parts of it, and still other vague, foggy memories are triggered as I read what I wrote and felt.

Our last time together was on a Friday night. Bruce passed away in the wee hours of Saturday morning. When the Medical Examiner’s office came to pick up his body from the hospital a few hours later, I was preparing to leave. Someone handed me a card with the Medical Examiner’s information and told me I could “call tomorrow to make arrangements” for Bruce’s body. In all honestly, I had no idea what they were talking about. Now, it is obvious, but at the time, I was so lost and confused… in complete denial and incredibly overwhelmed.

Most of my and Bruce’s family started arriving at our house later that morning and on into the evening. I don’t remember a lot about who showed up when, but I do remember bits and pieces of those first few days.

I remember my sister showing up with tons of tissue, which was brilliant on her part because I never used to keep this in my house. (Now I keep it in every room since I never know when I’m going to need it.) I remember my Mom and sister cooking and waiting on everyone there… meal after meal. (They worked so hard!) I remember the awful, quiet when nobody knew what to say, because there was nothing to be said that would make any of us feel better. I remember people saying they would stay for as long as I needed them. (Which, of course, was an impossible promise.)

I, also, remember being asked if I knew “what Bruce wanted”… which I did. Whenever he and I had these discussions, Bruce had always said he wanted to be cremated and have his ashes scattered in the ocean. As he put it, he “did not want to sit on a shelf somewhere.” He didn’t want a viewing or a church service… He hated being the center of attention, and even in death, he wanted everything to be simple. But that was pretty much all I knew. It’s not like we ever really thought this was going to happen any time soon… We had never sat down and wrote out a plan.

At some point on Sunday, Bruce’s Dad (who is one of the dearest people I have ever known) asked if I had called a funeral home yet. I was stunned! ME? I was the one who was supposed to do that?? I don’t remember exactly what I said or how that kind, dear man answered me, but a short time later, I found myself looking in the Yellow Pages for a funeral home in a town I barely knew.

I didn’t know one funeral home from another, but opted for the one that was less than a mile from our home. I remember the man who answered told me no one was there that day, but he would have someone call me first thing Monday morning. “… By 10 am, ” he assured me. I don’t know what I expected to hear when I called on a Sunday, but it seemed odd that I couldn’t even set up an appointment… and stranger still was the amount of time I would have to wait to even start making any type of arrangements.

Monday morning came and went with no call. By mid-afternoon, I finally called again and was told, “Oh yes. I got your message. But we got busy here and I forgot.” Since customer service is a huge part of my own job, I was a bit appallled. Even if he did forget, why would he say that to someone who is already dealing with a tragedy?? At this point in my journey, I know I should have just called another funeral home. However, at that point, it didn’t even register that I had options.

A short time later, my sister, Bruce’s sisters and I went to the funeral home to meet with the director and “make arrangements.” All I remember is he asked so many questions… and thankfully, Bruce’s sisters were there to answer – I couldn’t remember anything. (I don’t think I could even spell my own name.)

I remember giving the funeral director permission to write the obituary. (Never mind, he didn’t know Bruce at all). All I knew was I couldn’t do it. I also remember choosing the container for Bruce’s ashes. I knew I would be spreading his ashes in the ocean, so he wouldn’t need a permanent container. The one I chose had a picture of an ocean sunset (or sunrise, I suppose) on it. I had noticed it when we walked in, and it reminded me of our trips to Key West. That was the only thing I remembering feeling confident about… everything else is just a blur.

Within the next day or two, my Mom and Dad left. Over the next few days, when his ashes were still not back, his family and my kids needed to leave, as well. The only person who remained was my sister. God love her! She stayed for as long as she could, but she has a family and responsibilities too… And eventually, she needed to go home as well.

I don’t really remember saying goodbye to anyone. I do remember walking back into the house after my sister left, and for the first time since that night being completely alone… and scared. I didn’t think I could do this… I didn’t want to do this. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me… Anything but this!

In my journal, I wrote:

Can we just begin again? Can I have these 8 years back? I know they were great, and I don’t really have any regrets – we hardly ever fought. I just want the time back! I want to feel his arms around me, a kiss on my neck from behind. I want to wake up on a lazy Sunday morning and make love knowing neither of us needs to hurry and go anywhere. I want to fall asleep in his arms. I want to skip the dinner dishes to snuggle with him on the couch. I miss hearing him call me “Babe” and Micheal, “Boudreaux.” I miss his empty beer cans on the counter and his mess in the bathroom. I miss the sureness of him sitting in his easy chair every morning – drinking tea, doing sudoku, watching the news and letting his heating pad do its magic on his back. I miss his strong hugs, his friendship, and his cheesy smile when he was trying to “pull one over on me.” I miss him. Please, send him back. I need him… I need him soooo much. Please, God! Don’t make me do this!

On the afternoon of January 23, the funeral home called… Bruce’s ashes were finally back and I needed to go pick them up. I didn’t really know my neighbors well enough to ask anyone to go with me, so I went alone.

I… was… terrified! This was too real! Too final!!

When I got to the funeral home, the death certificates weren’t complete, so I refused them. The secretary who had called and was assisting me, grudgingly took them back and started complaining that she had been out, she wasn’t feeling well, no one had told her anything… blah, blah, blah…

Really?? All I could think was, “My husband is dead. Why are you complaining to me? I really don’t care.” Of course I didn’t say that… Instead, I apologized that no one had told her, that I had inconvenienced her, and that she didn’t feel well. (Ridiculous!)

Then, to make matters worse, she tried to give me the wrong ashes. (Holy cow!) She kept insisting that the 5 small metal urns she was holding were Bruce. However, I saw the container I had chosen on the back of the shelf. I refused the ones she was trying to hand me and pointed out the correct one, explaining that I had chosen a temporary urn, since we would be spreading his ashes in the ocean.

After a frustrated sigh, checking and rechecking the tags and paperwork and a (never-ending) monologue about what she wanted done with her own ashes, she finally took Bruce’s ashes off the shelf and put them into a shopping bag – complete with the funeral home logo!… I was so horrified! A shopping bag??!! Do these people also put their logo on the sides of their caskets?? I was completely disgusted… It felt so commercial… so irreverent… To put it simply, it was just plain wrong!

Once I was back in my car, I remember looking at the container and thinking, “This can’t be Bruce! How can the man I knew and loved be in this small container.” I didn’t dare look inside… I knew I couldn’t handle that. Instead, I placed the container in my lap and literally wailed all the way home. It was the most UNreal experience I’ve ever known.

Once I got home, I place his ashes on his dresser and lit several candles around it. Then, I sat vigil for the next 24 hours (or so). I remember thinking I didn’t want to leave him… I couldn’t leave him… I needed to stay right there and protect him. I can’t explain why this seemed so important at the time, all I know is it did. For whatever reason, I needed to do this.

As I sat there, I wrote in my journal… Here is a small sample:

I toast to you, Bruce.
the best man who ever lived.
You taught me love and kindness.
You taught me to live life and not just work.
You taught me that even when family makes you crazy, it’s okay. They are wonderful and to still love them.
Be happy, Babe! Don’t sail too far away – wait for me, again…
I love you!

During those hours, I remember one thought kept going through my mind over and over, “How can this be Bruce?” Surely he was more than this dust sitting in front of me. I remember wondering, “What is it that makes us who we are? Is it our soul? What is a soul? What is our spirit? What is it that makes us who we are?”

I can’t say that I have all the answers, but over time, I have come to know this for sure…

The part of us that makes us who we are, whether you call that spirit or soul, is not physical. Like our thoughts and emotions, it cannot be seen or held or touched. Instead, it is an energy that we put out into the world. It is just as real and just as present as our physical bodies, maybe even more so… but it was not in that container of ashes. Those ashes were only the “physical Bruce.”

And I love Bruce’s spirit… his soul… his energy… and according to what I believe, that part is eternal…

Do you have a story to share? A story about coming to terms with your loved one’s death? If so, please share it with us… This is OUR community. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving 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… Hearts, Presidents and Us

The day this is posted will be Valentine’s Day… and the next day will be President’s Day. However, in 2005, these holidays fell on consecutive weekends instead of the same weekend. For Bruce and I, these weekends were significant.

In 2005, our relationship was just beginnning. After returning from the cruise where we met, we had started emailing and calling each other. We knew how wonderful things had been on the cruise, and we knew our relationship seemed special. However, both of us felt like we needed to some face to face time (not on a cruise) to see what was real between us and what wasn’t.

In an email to Bruce, after one of these conversations, I wrote:

“Here’s a question… What’s the weather like in Michigan in February? Could a person get a horse drawn sleigh ride and then find a place to get warm? Or is it too miserable? (Just a question, mind you.) Actually, every weekend is filled up from now to February 12, but President’s Day weekend is a long weekend for us, so I was just thinking… I don’t know… Where do you think a person should go?”

To which Bruce responded:

“February in Michigan is usually cold and snowy. Perfect weather for a sleigh ride. I think we could find a place to warm up afterwards… We really think alike. Monday, I was checking the internet for airfares to SC for the weekend of February 12.”

At that time, I lived in a small town with a lot of caring and loving people… Which is exactly why I wanted this face to face get together to be in Michigan. I did not want my whole town watching while we tried to figure things out… We needed this to be between us. So, needless to say, I would be the one traveling… I booked a trip to Michigan for President’s Day weekend.

Valentine’s Day that year was exactly one week before President’s Day. I was teaching at a small parochial school with a mostly female (married or dating) staff. All day long, I watched the other teachers receive flowers and candy. I don’t know why I thought he might send me anything. I knew Bruce and I weren’t technically “in a relationship.” (We were trying to figure out if that was what we even wanted.) But I also knew neither of us were seeing anyone else and feelings between us were strong. However, as the day wound down and the kids headed home, I was resigned to the idea that at best there might be a card in the mail when I got home… And, honestly, who could really have expected anything more than that?

As I walked into the office to “clock out” for the day, the school secretary said, “Oh, thank goodness! I thought you were gone. This package came earlier this morning and somehow I missed getting it to you.” … And there on the counter was a medium sized box.

I opened it and inside was an Island Bear holding a dozen “roses” and a note.

He hadn’t forgotten me after all. The gift was perfect – it wasn’t overly romantic, but it was definitely something to remind me of our time together on the cruise.

The next weekend I flew to Michigan. I remember being so scared! What if I got there, and he wasn’t who he said he was or who I thought he was. What if things got weird? What if it was a bust?… But… Then again… What if it were wonderful?

I will always remember walking down the corridor at the airport, and there was Bruce, leaning against the wall watching the passengers walk toward him. As soon as he spotted me, his eyes lit up, and he smiled like a Cheshire cat.

The weekend was beautiful! We had our first “land” date. On Saturday, he tried to take me for a sleigh ride (he had made reservations) but there was not enough snow on the ground. Instead, he took me exploring all over the western side of Michigan… Which is beautiful, by the way!

We went out to Lake Michigan to see the icebergs and snowy beaches. (Ewwww!) We went to an Ice Carving competition (something you won’t find on the sidewalks in SC). We even found a cozy pub where we could keep warm while enjoying some spiced cider. One night we went out with his sisters. It was an instant connection between us girls. On our last night together, he cooked a wonderful dinner for me (including fish he had caught and peas he had grown in his garden).

On the night we had dinner with his sisters, right before we headed out, I remember Bruce taking me in his arms, looking into my eyes and saying, “I don’t want to scare you off,… But I really think I am falling in love you.”

“I’m not scared,” I answered. “I think I’m falling in love with you, too.”

Valentine’s and President’s Day weekend always found us reminiscing and smiling… so thankful that we took a chance (and won). These days marked a very special moment for us… That moment when we knew our lives would be forever intertwined… when we realized we our souls were inseparable…

Bruce always did something special during this time of year. He always thought it up and planned it. (All I had to do was show up.) Every other year, he planned a trip, just like that first year. Once we went further north to a ranch in Michigan – that was the year I finally got my sleigh ride. One year, it was a trip to St. Augustine. And our last Valentines together, we went to Key West. Each of these memories has a special place in my heart… each one is unique and precious.

That was then… But this is now…

Physically, Bruce is gone… This year, like the past few years, I will not be receiving any bears or flowers or candy or cards. I will, however, always know that I still love him…

And in my heart, I know he is still with me… and he always will be.

Are these holidays special for you too? Do they hold special memories that you would like to share? Sometimes sharing our memories is a way of making sure our loved ones are not forgotten. Please do so… This is our community. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving 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… And time moves on

It Still Hurts

Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
Other times I smile and laugh at the thought of our memories.
You were always that way…
making me smile or laugh when I wanted to cry…
when the pain was so bad.
Now my heart hurts…
truly, physically hurts with the missing of you.
I feel your soul;
I know you are here.
But I need to see your eyes and your smile;
Feel the comfort of your arms.
I want to breathe in your presence
and feel your love in all these things.
But that isn’t to be…
All I have are the memories;
The memories of our love…
And…
Sometimes I can’t breathe for the the pain of it.
~ Linda, Oct. 19, 2013

I remember when I wrote that poem. It had been 10 months since Bruce died. For the rest of the world, their lives were back in order. (At least that is the way I saw it.) But, not for me. My life was still upside down. I was still experiencing all the “dreaded firsts,” and I still had 2 more months to go before I would finish that “first year.”

I don’t know why, but there is a notion or a feeling that if you can get through (aka survive) that first year, it will all be okay… You will feel better… Life will start to feel normal again.

That, my friends, is a lie.

I remember starting that second year with so much hope that I would feel better, cry less and hurt less. But what I found was I still grieved; I still cried, and I still hurt. Life was still marching forward, but I still seemed to be out of step with the rest of the world.

On January 23, 2014, (after the one year anniversary of Bruce’s death) I wrote:

Good morning , Babe… Sad today… miss you so much. I know I’m doing better ’cause I have more and more good days, but today I am sad… went to bed sad, cried most of the night and woke up sad… Something about walking into the bedroom and knowing that I was crawling in to this bed without you… again, was too much. I just miss you! I try not to let myself dwell on it too much because it gets me too down, but other times, I need to let it out… It’s been forever since I felt the touch of your love, Babe.

A few days later on February 4, I wrote:

Hi Babe! Loving you this morning… I cried myself to sleep (again) last night. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever not cry myself to sleep… or miss you so bad my heart feels like it will rip in half. Still kinda teary this morning. The thing is – now (because it has been more than a year) I feel like I have to hide it… It is so frustrating!

Even this week, I found myself struggling and wrote:

Hi, Babe! I am really missing you tonight! How can this be real? Here I am – 3 years later – and still half expecting you to walk though the door – OR – to wake up and find this has been one horrible nightmare. I sit here at my desk looking at pictures of us and I remember all the smiles and all the love. I’ll never understand why it had to end or how to make the hurting stop. I think… No, I know, what we had was so special and I’ll never stop loving you! It took us so long to find each other that we never took “us” for granted. I have no regrets for how we spent our time together. But I never thought our time together would be so short. It went by so fast.

Why am I sharing this? What is the point?

My point is this – the pain never really goes away. It is as if you broke a leg but never had it set correctly… it just healed as it was. You learn to live with it… You learn to laugh and walk and maybe even run, but it is never the same.

Over the last 3 years, I have learned to crawl, then walk… and even run. I have learned to laugh again. I have learned to dance again. I have learned to live life again. I have learned to trust that God or the universe or whatever you want to call it has not abandoned me, is not against me nor is he punishing me… In fact, he loves me and has my back.

I know I was blessed… I know I still am. Bruce’s purpose on this earth was completed before mine, and that is a sad reality that I have to accept. ( But I hate it!) However, the fact that we had a life together at all is a miracle.

I have come to understand that my life now is determined by my perspective… Some days are easier than others. Some days are harder than others… and that is actually normal. But ultimately… it is my choice.

What do I know… even when days are hard?

I know there are still lessons for me to learn and a purpose for me to explore.

If you have experienced loss, you have probably learned lessons, too. This is our community, please share your story with us. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving a note.*

Maybe you learned something different… There is no one right answer. Who knows… you may hold 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