Peace, Love and Grief… Never good at goodbye

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* 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… More questions than answers

Either you can see God in all things or
you can see God in no things.
~ Fr. Richard Rohr

When we can still see God (use whatever name you choose) in all things, we are better equipped to have hope, see choices and keep trying. It is when we can no longer see or feel God anywhere that we run out of options… and hope. It is a hard place to be. In my job, we sometimes deal with people whose family members have have been there… Unable to see any other option, they chose to end their own lives. It is absolutely heart wrenching to help the surviving family members work through this one piece of the “business” of death. I don’t think I have ever gotten through one of these encounters without crying a few tears myself.

In my own small “world,” I have been pretty sheltered. Whenever I hear of someone who has committed suicide, it has always been an acquaintance – never a close friend or family member. Still, it always makes me pause and cry… both for the family left to grieve and wonder how it ever came to this and for the person whose pain was so deep they felt this was the only choice left.

This week I received word that a classmate from high school died… Even more sad, he had committed suicide. I was shocked when I first heard. In fact, every time I think about it, it still makes me sad. I can’t imagine the depth of his despair…

I know after Bruce died, there were times when I was so sad and low… so completely lonely. I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life without him… alone… There were many times when I wondered why I was still here. What purpose did I serve now? My life seemed to be an endless cycle of waking, working, eating and sleeping… Only to do it all over again the next day… alone. It all seemed so pointless.

I can remember saying endless prayers asking God to just let me die, too. After all, I reasoned, no one needed me anyone. I remember begging Bruce to come back and “get me.” I was definitely at the lowest point I have ever been. I believe some of us (especially widows and widowers) have been there at one time or another in our grief. However, the difference is – we are still here… Somehow, we managed to find a way back out of that darkness.

The idea that not everyone is able to find their way out of that darkness is hard to accept.

I have heard some people say it is a “sin,” while others call it “selfish.” I can’t say I agree with either of those views. I don’t believe it is that simple. Besides, both of those ideas are completely unfair. They both blame the victim, and allow the rest of us to wash our hands and walk away with a clean conscience. That’s ridiculous! Why in the world do we feel the need to blame anyone?

Why can’t we admit there may not be an answer to such a tragedy… Why can’t we look at what has occurred, realize we may not have caused it; we may not have been aware of it; and we may not have been able to stop it?

At the same time, maybe we could also take a moment to realize the part we all play in each others’ lives… our responsibility to simply care… to simply be the love and acceptance we all seek from the world around us. Maybe then, through simple gestures of caring, we can make a difference…

What is suicide?
Is it the sudden taking of one’s own life?
Is it that simple?
Is it the slow denial that something is wrong?
Is it depression so deep that you feel your very soul is gone?
Is the real death emotional and the physical act is just the ending punctuation?
Is it a rejection of one’s circumstances?
Or is it because one has been rejected by circumstances?
Is it an ending or a fresh start in a better place?
Is it a choice or does one feel that there is no choice?
Is it a selfish act or a desperate attempt to escape one’s own demons?
Is it a rejection of society or is it a response to society’s rejection?
I do not know the answer… but I have known those feelings.
While we are not responsible for the actions of those around us,
We do have a responsibility to those around us.
We can reach out, hold a hand or give a hug.
We can listen. We can be a friend.
What is suicide?
It is a cry in the darkness…
Are you listening?
~ Linda, September 2013

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with fear 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

* 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… Looking for happiness

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 that 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.

Let us depart in peace and look to the morning, assured that today and everyday the sun will rise again. May the truth that makes us free, the hope that never dies and the love that casts out fear lead us forward together until the dayspring breaks, and the shadows flee away.

To the Holy Spirit who guides our paths and is able to keep us from falling, to the Son who makes us stand without blemish in the presence of God’s glory, to our heavenly Father who sustains us and whose wisdom is beyond our understanding: Deal graciously with us in our grief. Surround us with your love, that we may not be overwhelmed by our loss, but have confidence in your goodness and strength to meet the days to come; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

This was the final reading and prayer at Bruce’s ash scattering ceremony. I had no idea at the time just how prophetic those words would be… “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.” It has been work… hard work while I have spent the last 3+ years looking for that joy… that happiness which left my life the night Bruce died.

I know the saying that happiness can never be found outside ourselves; instead, we must find it within ourselves… and I agree for the most part. However, what happens when two souls are one – completely connected and bonded. While their happiness is strengthened in specific moments in time, their actually happiness is within the two of them together… Their happiness is something they share together; it belongs to both of them as one.

So what happens when one of them is gone? Where is the happiness then? This is where that saying gets turned on its head.

You see, it wasn’t that our happiness was outside either of us… it was deep in the core of both of us… together.

For the longest time after Bruce died, what should have been happy moments became instant reminders that I was now here alone. I remember thinking I would never even smile again… but I have. In fact, I have even laughed. Increasingly over time, I have moments when I am in awe of this life and the beauty and love surrounding me. But, each of these moments is still filled with a twinge of sadness as I find myself longing to share it with Bruce. I always find myself thinking things like – “Bruce would love this,” or “Bruce would not think that was funny… (which makes it even funnier).” So often, I find myself smiling while tears spill down my cheeks.

Once again, I find the next sentence of that prayer so true to the life I live. “Where we weep, Bruce would have us laugh. Where we mourn, Bruce would have us rejoice. But we know that 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.

Each day as I sit at my desk, whether here at home or in my office, I am surrounded by pictures of Bruce and I… happy, precious moments forever frozen in time. It is impossible not to wish for those moments… that life again. But as I said a few weeks ago, I know that is not to be.

Life keeps moving on… whether I am grieving or happy makes no difference.
I am learning (in baby steps) how to keep putting one foot in front of the other… How to keep breathing through the tough moments… I find myself constantly praying the last sentence of that prayer, “To the Holy Spirit… to the Son… to our heavenly Father…: Deal graciously with us in our grief. Surround us with your love, that we may not be overwhelmed by our loss, but have confidence in your goodness and strength to meet the days to come; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

As time has passed, I have learned to have confidence in God, again. I have learned to face each day with the strength I find in my relationship with God. While it is not the same, I am learning to find happiness in the little things. Who knows, perhaps in time, I will also learn to find my happiness within myself.

Until then, I will remember the happiness we shared. I will give thanks daily knowing Bruce and I were two souls meant to be together, and that is something very precious… In fact, I will remember it as a blessing and a gift from God. I also believe that one day, we will be together again… united as one… and relishing the happiness we knew as “ours.”

What about you? Do you or have you struggled with finding happiness 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

* 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… Don’t cry…

Don’t cry… Most of us have heard this all our lives. As a child when a favorite toy was lost… “Don’t cry.” When a pet was lost or your best friend moved… “Don’t cry.” As a teen, when your first love broke your heart… “Don’t cry.” And even as an adult when life throws you a curve ball… “Don’t cry.”

Don’t get me wrong… For the most part, I don’t remember hearing this in a reprimanding tone. It was always said gently and with love. It is a “normal” response, I suppose, when someone is crying. But, honestly, did it ever stop your tears? … Because it never stopped mine.

In fact, this week while watching TV, I heard a mother consoling her adult daughter with those exact words… and it made me think… Why? Why not cry? Why is it so wrong to cry as a response to hurt and loss? Why do we do that to each other?

I remember when Bruce died, people were patient with my tears for a little while… a very little while. After just a few short weeks, I started hearing the words “don’t cry” a lot. Most of the time it was said gently, and I knew it was meant to console. However, there were others who, I believe, were simply uncomfortable with the tears… or truly felt that it was downright wrong to cry. I heard it stated so many ways, such as:

“Don’t cry. You’re not the only one to ever lose someone.”
“Don’t cry. If you have faith, you should believe he’s in a better place.”
“Don’t cry. You can choose to feel better or have a better attitude.”
“Don’t cry in the office or in public. It looks weak.”
“Don’t cry. Be strong.”
“Don’t cry. What will others think?”

Good grief! What will others think? Wouldn’t they think I am sad because my husband died? Is that so bad?

If you listen closely to each of these reasons not to cry, shame is at the core. Which makes me wonder why shame become the tool used to dispel grief? What a crazy place this is when we believe there a time limit to tears of grief, and anything beyond that “limit” is wrong. Research has shown us that it is unhealthy to avoid or deny our grief. Yet, society still charges down the “be tough or be shamed” path.

I understand that my tears and grief may make some people uncomfortable, but maybe that is not my responsibility. Maybe that discomfort is created because in our culture most of us have never learned how to deal with grief. Instead. it is treated like a taboo topic… something that is definitely expected up to a point as ling as we don’t get carried away. If one grieves “too long,” shame will begin to seep into the picture.

Honestly, I have been frustrated for a long time with the reality of pushing my feelings down deep in order to make others more comfortable. However, it wasn’t until these last few weeks that I finally realized this shame aspect and how efficiently it works.

My first realization happened with my grandson. We were having a simple conversation about his day when suddenly he burst into tears about a recent loss that cuts deep into his core. We were in the car, and there wasn’t a lot I could do in the moment. As I reached out to hand him a tissue, I ALMOST said it… “Don’t cry, Baby. It will be okay.” But as the thoughts were forming in my mind, I stopped.

NoThat was not what I wanted to say, nor what I wanted him to take away from our encounter. Instead, I told him, “It’s okay to cry, Baby. I know it hurts. You go ahead and cry… I’m here with you.” He’s only 7 so the tears didn’t last very long. Hopefully, however, he will remember that his feelings are valid, and it is okay to grieve his loss. As for me, all I could think was how I wished more people had allowed me that small bit of space… space to cry and grieve for a few moments when the pain of my loss crossed my heart.

My second (and more eye opening) realization came a day or two later. I was having one of “THOSE” days… One of those days when I missed Bruce beyond words. One of those days when the pain and grief felt all new and fresh, as if it had happened just yesterday. A day when I would have given my soul for just one more hug… one more smile. .. one more moment.

Yet as sad as I felt, I got up, got dressed and forced a smile to my face as I walked into my office. Only those closest to me could tell something was “off,” and only one or two actually knew what it was. As the day progressed and my mood started cycling lower and lower, I found myself shoving my emotions further and further down and trying to smile that much more. “Don’t let them see your pain today,” I thought. “Don’t cry.”

And I didn’t… Instead, I waited until I was alone in my car heading home… I waited until I felt “safe.” However, when I finally gave myself “permission” to cry, I found I couldn’t… not really. I was sad and I needed to work through all that stuff I had been shoving down all day, but somehow I still couldn’t allow myself to let go. Instead, I was talking myself out of it.

What if someone called and could hear it in my voice? What if someone saw me?
Then it hit me….Oh my gosh! I had let the shame behind all those “don’t cry’s” become so accepted and ingrained, I was doing it to myself! That was nuts! Good heavens! What shame is there in grieving? I know better! I know all those “don’t cry’s” are wrong. Instead, of “don’t cry,” we need to say…

“Go ahead and cry. This hurts… You’re the only one to ever lose this person in this time.”
“Go ahead and cry. Faith has nothing to do with it. God will hold you and comfort you. He understands your pain.”
“Go ahead and cry. You can choose your attitude, and today it is perfectly okay to choose feeling sad. You can choose to feel better or have a better attitude another day or another time.”
“Go ahead and cry in the office. It is not weak… It is honest and vulnerable… That takes real courage.”
“Go ahead and cry. That takes real strength.”
“Go ahead and cry. Who cares what others may think?”

This lesson has taken me a while, but I have finally realized that it takes more strength and courage to be honest about my grief than to hide it. There may even be a lot of people who will disagree… But I would bet most of them have never walked one step (much less a mile) in my moccasins (as the saying goes).

So… If there is one thing I have learned from all of this “don’t cry” business, it is this…

It is okay and normal to express grief with tears. It takes courage and strength to lay it out there for the world with no apologies. So… if you ever find yourself consoling someone or being consoled, drop the “don’t.” Instead,…

Go ahead and cry…

What about you? Did anyone ever tell you “don’t cry?” Are you still struggling with the shame of grieving past society’s “approved time limit?” Do you need support in that area? Or 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… You Can’t Go Back

Come home…
Come home and hold me.
I am lost without you, my other half.
I search for you…
In the darkness,
In each room,
In each dream,
In each corner of my soul.
Please…
Come home.
~ Linda, November 2013

I wrote this poem 11 months after Bruce passed away. At the time, it was all I could think about. I wanted Bruce back. I wanted our life back. Day and night I prayed to wake up from the nightmare that had become my reality… But I never “woke up”… and Bruce never came back home. This was my life, and this was going to always be my life.

One would think that with time, those feelings would pass. I would eventually reconcile myself to “what is”… But I haven’t. Even now, several years later, I want him back… Each journal begins “Dear Bruce…” as if it is a long letter about my day to day happenings. Each day, I write to tell him how much I miss him and still love him… And I still ask him to “come home.” Each entry written as if one day he will read it… but I am well aware – he won’t.

This week as I scrolled through Face Book looking at what my friends and family around the world have been up to, I found myself looking at quite a few anniversary posts. I hate to admit it, but those are a struggle for me. It is a struggle because while I am truly happy for them, I find I am very sad for me… And a little jealous… (Embarrassing but true.)

These things just seem to stir up a miriad of questions for me. Things I don’t undertand and probably never will. Why did Bruce have to die? Why couldn’t we have grown old together? Why couldn’t we celebrate more anniversaries together? Why us?

So while it may sound crazy, here I am 3.5 years later still wishing I could wake up… still wishing this had never happened … still wishing I could go back in time… but knowing this is my reality… And a bit embarrassed to admit I still haven’t accepted it.

I know I’m not alone in my thoughts, though. I have talked to so many other widows and most of them will admit to the same thing. Why, then, are we too embarrassed to speak up? While I can’t talk for everyone, I know a big part of my hesitation comes from the culture around me.

I have found that most people want to help, but at the same time, most people don’t understand what I am going through. They mean well… They want to say the “right thing” and their hearts are in the right place… But the tendency throughout this ordeal has been to throw cliches in my direction…

“He’s in a better place.”
“He led a full life.”
“God has a reason.”
“God needed another angel.”
“Be strong. Don’t cry. Keep a stiff upper lip.”
” Praise God. Celebrate that he has gone on to a better place.”
“At least you can date and marry again.”
“This is just what was meant to be. All things must pass”
“Good thing you are strong enough to handle this.”
“The living must go on.”
“Get a hold of yourself. God will never give you more than you can handle.”
“Just give it time. If your faith is real, you will be okay.”
… and the list goes on and on

Here is the thing about cliches… they SUCK! They may sound good but they have absolutely nothing to do with reality.

If you have never experienced a deep loss such as that of a spouse or child, knowing what to say can be a struggle. As a culture, we want to say something that sounds encouraging. Since the cliches we have heard throughout our lives sound like wise advice, they will often come into play.

The interesting thing is I have never heard any of these cliches from other widows or widowers. Why? Because knowing and understanding the pain of grief requires first hand experience… and they have that. In fact, now I have that too… although I still wish I didn’t. With first hand experience, comes the knowledge that there are no “right words.” Just “being there” and showing you care means so much more than words could ever accomplish.

In the past, whenever I dared to mention that I wished I could go back in time or I wished Bruce were still here and those cliches were the answer, I would get angry or frustrated. Now, as time has passed, even though they bring no comfort, I’m learning to be okay with it. Now, I’m able to understand that their hearts are in the right place. So even if the words are terrible, I can be thankful for a heart that wants to help.

Nowadays, I want people to understand I will be okay… but “being okay” includes grieving the loss of “what was.” That pain will always be with me in some form or another. However, when the cliches come my way now, my response sounds more like a quote from The Grief Recovery Handbook by John James & Russell Friedman – “Grief is about a broken heart, not a broken brain.” Please, don’t feel like you need to fix me… just be with me a while.

As for me, while I wish otherwise, I really do know I can’t go back in time… I know Bruce is gone… I also know my life is moving forward… one small step at a time. I think Rob Bell sums it all up when he says…

“You don’t go back when it comes to suffering… You go through.”

And that is my plan each day… to be thankful for what was, acknowledge what is and accept my feelings as they present themselves… as I move through my grief and take the next step on my path…

I love the quiet before the world wakes up.
The stillness in the air
As if the entire world were holding its breath in anticipation
Of what this new day will bring.
~ Linda, September, 2013

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with accepting 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

* 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… Be the change

Be the living expression of God’s kindness;
kindness in your face,
kindness in your eyes,
kindness in your smile.
~ St. (Mother) Teresa of Calcutta

I remember when this whole journey began. (3 years, 7 months, 23 days ago… but who’s counting?) At first, I was so raw… so numb… so lost. For the first few weeks, I felt like I was in a dream. This couldn’t be real… Surely, I was going to wake up at some point and everything would be as it was. (Except, I would be even MORE appreciative of the gift that was my husband.)

But, that didn’t happen… Life just kept moving forward… without my Bruce.

As the months passed, more and more people fell off the radar for one reason or another. Most things I read told me this was normal… to expect it… And even gave some explanations for why. Some couples would back away, because now I was not “a couple.” (Although, most widows will tell you, we still feel like “a couple.” According to what I read, other people would back away for any number of reasons, such as:

1. They felt I was doing so well, I didn’t need their support any longer.
2. They didn’t know how to offer more support.
3. They were tired or uncomfortable with the whole business.
4. Who knows!

To be fair, most people probably grow tired of the whole affair simply because they don’t understand it, (not because they are cruel). I may have felt stuck but their lives had continued to move on at full speed. At the time, however, I could not understand this. So as more months passed, and I watched more and more people walk out of my life… I began to feel hurt and angry. I had already lost my husband. Was everyone else going to abandon me too?

But there is a huge problem with that line of thinking… The more I focused on the hurt and negative feelings, the more negative things I found to upset me.

It didn’t take long for me to spiral down and become the very thing I never wanted to be – an angry, cynical woman. Life began to look bleak… It no longer held any hope. This attitude only increased my focus on the negative. Before I realized what was happening, my connections with other people almost stopped completely. I found myself only opening up to a very small handful of friends and family (who chose to love me despite my negative outlook).

About this time I found myself at my lowest I had ever been… I had given up on people and life… I had stopped caring… Life had taken on the form of waking up, going through the motions and sleeping. Then, waking up only to do all over again the next day.

At this point, I pulled out one of Bruce’s favorite CDs – Wayne Dyer’s, The Secrets of the Power of Intention. I did not know it at the time, but this would become my first step out of this downward spiral that had taken over my life. There was a lot of great information in this series, but the piece of information I needed to hear most was…

“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.”

WOW! What a simple statement, and yet, how true! I had become completely focused on all I had lost (and was still losing)… on all the hurt and feelings of abandonment. Because of that, I had stopped noticing the good things all around me… the little blessings available in each moment. So this is where things started to change… And as I “changed the way I looked at things,” the way I viewed those things (as well as my life) began to change as well.

The next step was probably inevitable… I began to realize that if more people knew this, maybe our world would not be filled with so many hurt, offended, negative souls. But how could I use this knowledge and make a difference? I knew I can only change myself… How, then, could I make another change within myself, that might make a bigger difference in the world around me?

Then, I read a few writings from Ghandi, there was one which seemed to call out to me as the answer – “Be the change you want to see.”

WOW! (Again!) How is it the simplest statements have the most profound advice? And so it began, another change, another step. Now instead of wishing someone else would think more kindly, behave kinder, or speak with more kindness, I learned to observe, say nothing (the hardest part for me), and alter my own actions to reflect what I wanted to see instead.

These two changes in my thought patterns and behavior began to build on each other. The more I altered how I looked at things, the easier it became to actually be the change I wanted to see. And the more I worked on “being the change,” the easier it became to see others in a more positive light.

Through the past 3 years, 7 months and 23 days, I have found myself working my way out of that downward spiral. Believe me when I say it is still a process for me. However, while I have my moments when I forget to protect my attitude, I am continually doing better and better… When I find myself spiralling down, I am able to catch it sooner and turn it around. I know that when I remember to “be the change I want to see,” my whole viewpoint on life and people becames more positive as well…

When I remember that the divine energy within me can become a divine reality for someone else by simply being the love and acceptance I am seeking from the world around me, then I know my life has purpose again because I am able to make a difference.

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

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with frustration with the world around you? 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

* 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… Feels a lot like whiplash

There is no “happily ever after.”
What happens is
You finally meet someone who loves you so much
They take your breath away.
And in a moment…
In that breath
They show you what love is
And who you really are.
Then in a flash…
In another unexpected moment
They are gone…
And you stand there,
Trying to comprehend something that can never be understood.
And inside…
You die, too.
~ Linda, July 2014

In the insurance world, whiplash is a common injury complaint from those involved in auto accidents. What exactly is whiplash? Well, it occurs when a person is traveling in one direction, but due to a sudden stop or change in direction, the person’s body is also forced to suddenly change direction. When this change occurs too quickly to control the body’s movements, the result can be a “sprain or strain” to soft tissue (usually the muscles of the neck and shoulders), aka – whiplash.

The injury itself is a little bit different from other injuries. For example, it can’t really be seen or proven. Only the person experiencing it knows how real and how painful it actually is. Because of that, other people may or may not believe it is real. In fact, most other people will have an opinion on how long it should take to heal. Yet, research shows us that the severity and time required to heal varies from person to person depending on several, different factors. The main factor, however, is how sudden or violent the change in direction actually was.

So by definition, whiplash is “soft tissue damage which is the result of a sudden change in direction.” Interesting…. because if someone were to ask me, I could define grief the same way – “Soft tissue damage (to my heart) which is the result of a sudden change in the direction of my life.”

I know that for myself, my… no, our life was moving in a wonderful direction. We had plans. We had dreams. We were happy. Then suddenly… in one short breath, everything changed. Bruce died… And with him, our plans, our dreams, and our happiness were suddenly gone. The direction of my life suddenly stopped. The resulting pain to my heart felt was as real as any physical injury, although no one could actually see it. There were times when my chest literally ached… times when I struggled to breathe… And none of this was figurative – It was real.

Just like a whiplash injury, no one could see my pain. I had no way to prove it, and to be honest, I wasn’t really inclined to do so anyway. Then to add to the pain, there were also plenty of people who were more than happy to tell me their opinion of my pain, such as how long it should take me to heal, how much they thought it hurt (or didn’t hurt) and how to “get over it.”

After the shock of the sudden, initial change in direction, I began to realize I had to pick my life back up and start moving again… only this time, my only choice was to go in a totally new direction. A direction I would have to travel alone… with my own plans, my own dreams and searching for my own happiness… There was no more “us,” “we” or “our.”

It has taken 3.5 years, but I can finally say that I am slowly learning to do this. There will be days… maybe even weeks (at this point) where I function quite well. I am able to smile and laugh. I can reach out to others to help and serve.

However, there can still be reoccuring pain, also. For example, this week has been one of “those weeks” that has held some of this pain for me. All week, I have fought and struggled not to let myself spiral down… I have struggled not to cry or dump my pain on the people around me. Why? Because I know that after this much time (3.5 years) combined with the fact that most people see me having more and more “good” days, I’m not convinced people will understand… and I don’t want to deal with their reactions on top of everything else.

Honestly, though, I know I shouldn’t let that get to me… That will only add to my frustration and my pain. Instead, I know what I need. I need to find some time alone… time to stop for a bit and let myself sort through my feelings, acknowledge them, and give myself permission to grieve and probably even cry a little.

Then… just like a whiplash injury, slowly and carefully, I can start to move again… being grateful and loving life once again.

What about you? Does any of this ring a bell with you, as well? Do you know also experience those days of reoccuring pain – when the grief hits you full force? Do you need support right now? Or 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… The importance of laughter

The sun sets at the end of the day.
The sky is pink.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.

The full moon rises over the trees.
It lights up the world.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.

The storm rolls in with its dark clouds.
It puts on a show for the world.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.

The waves crash onto the beach.
There for a moment and then gone again.
I am reminded of you…
And I smile.

All around me life goes on.
I see you in every flower,
And feel you in the stir of the wind.
Your soul reaches out to me to remember…
I do…
And I smile.
~ Linda, October 2013

I remember when I went through my divorce years ago – things remained extremely tense for such a long time. At one point, my mom sent me a CD of a comedian along with a note telling me I “needed to laugh.” As I put the CD into the player of my car, I shook my head thinking, “She doesn’t get it. My life is falling apart… I don’t think I can laugh anymore.” But as is usually the case, I was wrong and my mom was right. Within a few short minutes, I was laughing so hard, I could barely breathe! What a great release!

When Bruce passed away, I found myself thinking I would never laugh again… every bit of joy was gone from my life. Once again, someone wiser than me counseled me on the importance of finding some joy each day… Not just something to be grateful for (like I discussed last week), but something that would make me smile… and, yes, maybe even laugh.

I will always remember the first time I laughed after Bruce passed away. We were telling “Bruce Stories,” and before I knew it, I found myself laughing at some of the best memories ever! However, as soon as I realized what I was doing, I stopped short. How could I laugh? My world had fallen apart! What in the world did I have to laugh about?

As time passed, I would find myself laughing at little things such the sayings of my (then) toddler grandson or a joke on the radio. But each time, I would catch myself… and stop. Those same feelings of “what did I have to laugh about?” kept returning… And each time, I let it steal my joy.

I’m not sure at what point or even who said it, but somewhere on this path, someone suggested that perhaps I needed to give myself permission to laugh. At about the same time, I started reading one of Bruce’s favorite, “go-to” books, The Importance of Living by Lin Yutang. Within the first few pages, he presents the idea that a sense of humor has the function of not letting us “bump our heads against the stone wall of reality.” In other words, to be wise we need to learn to combine our reality with our dreams and a sense of humor.

This opened a door for me… If this book was Bruce’s “go-to” and these were the ideas of the author… perhaps… just perhaps, Bruce, himself, was trying to tell me that I needed to laugh again. Perhaps by giving myself permission to laugh, I was also giving myself permission to heal.

And so I did…

It started slowly. I started retelling stories and sharing memories of Bruce and I that made me laugh. By starting here, I found that I could honor Bruce’s memory and find my healing through laughter all at the same time. I quickly found that other people who knew him, were more than willing to dive in and share their funny stories as well. Even as recently as a few weeks ago, one of Bruce’s high school buddies shared a story of their teenage shenanigans that still makes me laugh every time I read it.

What a blessing! I must say that in the past few years, I have learned to be so thankful for the healing gift of laughter and the balance that a sense of humor can bring to our lives each and every day… no matter what our current reality holds.

“If we don’t pause,
the hardships of the world will slowly de-sensitize us from the simple joys that life has to offer.
Stop and take a breath.
Enjoy the moment without needing the moment to be perfect.
Life is what happens between the cracks of perfection.”
~ Erik Wahl

What about you? Did you or have you ever struggled with the idea of laughing in the face of 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

* 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… Remembering to Look

This week seemed to hold a reoccuring theme… both within my own life and in the lives of the people around me. Throughout the week, I had several conversations with friends who were extremely low – feeling so beat-up by their current life situation that all they could see was all the negative stuff surrounding them. From their vantage point, they were convinced there was nothing they could do about anything… Life was happening to them and they were left feeling powerless and drowning.

I think we have all felt that way from time to time. In fact, I remember feeling that way for many years… especially after Bruce passed away. Life had thrown a huge curveball in my direction, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I felt so alone… so unloved… so abandoned by everyone… especially God. I remember someone telling me that God, indeed, was punishing me, and I should “get my life on the right track” – only then would God be able to love me again. (What a sad thing to believe! What a horrible thing to tell someone!)

Honesty, this only made me feel worse and more abandoned… who would want to believe in a God/Universe/Divine Source (pick your own word) like that? How could anyone believe in a God whose behavior we wouldn’t accept in another person? A God who kicks you when you are down and then expects you to beg for his love and blessings? No, thank you! Not this girl! However, this did end up being a blessing, because this was where my own spiritual journey began… my determination to figure out for myself what I actually believe.

It has been said that growth only occurs through struggle. We see this in nature as well as in our own lives. If all we knew was success after success, we would never have the opportunity to grow. If we were asked what happened to make us who we are, most of us would tell a story of struggle that eventually led to growth.

It is the same for me. Bruce’s death has been my biggest struggle ever… But because of it, my spiritual growth has been huge… Don’t get me wrong – it has taken years, but I can finally say I “got there.” About a year ago, I came to realize that my beliefs are not those of the main-stream, orthodox Christianity in which I grew up. Instead, my beliefs are more Franciscan and contemplative in nature – more about the relationship than any rules or dogma. For me, that enlightment was a huge blessing… a blessing that grew out of my biggest loss.

Why is that such a big deal? How does that play out and make such a difference in how I approach life now?

Well, twice this week, my devotions centered around the blessings in our lives… One focused on God “withholding blessings” in order to “discipline” us. While the other focused on the abundance of God and looking for the blessings even in the midst of tragedy.

These are two very opposing views… The first one can have some very negative effects. It can (and often will) drive one to feel powerless, abandoned, worthless, and unloved. However, I don’t believe in a “Gotcha God” who withholds anything. I don’t believe the bad things in our lives are a punishment for anything.

Like the second devotion, I believe in a God of abundance. I believe the struggles are there to help us learn and grow… They are not a punishment. They just happen; they are a part of life. I know it is hard to remember when we are in the midst of a tragedy or struggle, but I still believe if we look hard enough we can still find the blessings.

Research has proven that our human mind seems to easily hang onto and recall the negative things around us. However, in order to remember the positive things, we must focus on them for at least 15 – 30 seconds, or that feeling of happiness is lost.

After Bruce passed away, someone suggested I start a “Gratitude Journal” in order to redirect my focus from negative to positve. In the beginning, it was hard. I had to force myself to think of at least three things to be thankful for each day. Some days it was a struggle… all I think of were things such as “I was able to get out of bed today.” Other days were easier, and I could think of one thing after another.

Bottomline, it has taken years of practice, but what started as a hard task years ago has become easier over time. Through these last few years, I have learned to see more and more of the positives… more and more of the blessings. In fact, now my challenge is to list at least ten things each morning. I don’t mean to sound like I am bragging nor do I want you to think this has been easy. It has been hard… In fact, some days it is still hard. But, as I look more and more for the blessings, I can see the positive results in my life, so I keep working at it…
I keep looking… and finding even more blessings.

Maybe it sounds too simplistic. However, I have found that if we stop focusing on the struggle – on the negative – and start looking for something positive, we will find it… We will start seeing more and more blessings that are there… and always have been. Even in the middle of our worst tragedy,…

there is always something to be thankful for if we just remember to look for it…

Look up, my child.
I am here…
Don’t look down,
I am not there.
Keep your eyes on Me;
Don’t let the clouds block your view.
Look beyond them;
The blue sky is always there,
even behind the clouds.
Stop focusing on the clouds.
Focus on the sky…
Focus on Me…
Keep Me in your view.
I am here guiding you,
Loving you…
Always.
~Linda, September 2015

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with finding anything positive in your life 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

* 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… Life is a Mix of Miracles and Grief

It’s funny how life has a way of showing us our own lives reflected back to us in the simple miracles of life. I was blessed enough to have just such an experience last weekend.

Bruce and I moved to the beach years ago. While it meant quite a work commute for both of us, it was worth it to know the water would be there waiting for us at the end of the day. We always loved our Sundays on the beach watching the waves and wildlife that abounds at the shore. As we sat there, we saw everything from crabs and sandpipers to pelicans and dolphin… and once we were even blessed to see whales migrating not too far off shore.

But this last weekend beat all of those in my book. While my grandson rode the waves on his boogie board, my daughter and I sat and talked. Within a short time, the sky became overcast and the temperature dropped. I couldn’t believe it… Here it was the end of July in Florida, and I had to wrap up in my towel like a blanket because I was actually cold! It was ridiculous.

Just as I was about to say, “Let’s call it a day and head on home,” my daughter looked down the beach with an odd stare.

“What is that?” she asked. I turned to look down the beach, too. There was a small crowd of about 10 – 12 people gathered and several small, dark objects scattered on the beach. Looking a little harder, the objects appeared to be moving! My first thought was crabs. However, my daughter jumped up and started running, “They’re TURTLES!” she cried.

TURTLES!?! I grew up on the coast. I have spent many summer days on the beach throughout my entire life. Since moving to the Florida coast, I am on the beach at least once a week throughout the entire year. While I have always wanted to see turtle hatchlings, it has never happened… This is normally a nocturnal event, and the odds of ever seeing it are pretty slim. Were we really about to experience such a miracle?

I called our grandson and we all ran down the beach together. IT WAS AMAZING!
Just to get out of the nest is quite a feat! From what we were told, the eggs are usually 1 – 1.5 feet deep. The hatchlings then have to dig their way to the surface. From there, they must make their way to the water. Because it was low tide and the nest was located high up on the beach near the sea oats, these little guys still had a long, hard trip to the water.

There were about 50 hatchlings in the first group, and the crowd was wonderful. Everyone stayed back and gave them the space they needed for their journey. Before long people began to “escort” these little turtles – keeping the seagulls away and/or guiding the stray ones back in the right direction by blocking the wrong route with towels and boogie boards. It was the most amazing site.

I started escorting one particular little guy as he came out of his nest. I watched him as he struggled through the soft, deep sand above the high tide line. This part of the beach was filled with footprints, crab holes and the playful holes of children. Up until this moment, I never thought of these things as obstacles… I actually never thought of these at all before… They have always just been a part of what makes the beach “the beach.” However, watching this little guy climb up and down through all of it, working harder than you would ever imagine, brought tears to my eyes. What a struggle! What perseverance!

Once he finally made it to the firmer sand, I thought the hard part was over, but I was wrong. He was beginning to tire and needed to stop to rest. However, this was where the real danger started. This was where the hatchlings became easy targets for the seagulls. I became more vigilant and more determined that this little guy was going to make it.

It did take a long time, but he made it! The first wave came up to greet him, picked him up… and carried him backwards about 3 feet. The poor little guy! He flapped his little flippers like crazy to move forward, but the strength of the wave was much greater. As the wave pulled back into the ocean, that little hatchling did not give up. He rewalked those 3 feet and was greeted by another wave. This time he managed to swim a little harder and the wave only took him back a few inches. The next time was the charm… as soon as the wave picked him up, he was off… And I stood there watching in awe… and crying.

Once the last hatchling made it into the water, we all looked at each other and took in the miracle that we had just experienced… but it wasn’t over.

The park rangers were there before long. They explained that the overcast sky combined with the drop in temperature, had triggered the eggs to hatch, despite the fact that it was daytime. Now, however, the sun had come back out and the temperature was rising again. They needed to dig up the remaining hatchlings and get them to the water before they became overheated and died.

So we watched… twenty more hatchlings were brought out of the nest and started the same long journey to the ocean. Once again, we all stood guard and guided them along.

As I watched this second group, I began to see a similarity in the turtles’ journey and my own grief journey.

Like the turles, there is a shock when you emerge into the world without your lost loved one. There is a time when you are completely unsure of what to do next. Then, there is the long slow journey as you try to find your way and figure out where you belong.

Just as the hatchlings need to make this journey themselves, so do we. For the hatchlings it is important because they need build the strength in their flippers in order to be able to swim when they finally reach the water. For us, we need to do the hard work required to deal with the loss and pain so we can learn to live again… and no one can do it for you.

Just like the turtle’s journey, there are pitfalls, wrong turns and dangerous obstacles but it is still up to us. We may need help, and we should ask for it, but ultimately, the journey is ours.

Then, there are the waves. When the turtles hit the water, most of us thought the hard part was over, but we were wrong. The waves set the turtles back many times before they finally swam out to sea. Even then, the journey wasn’t over. One little hatchling was actually snatched right out of the waves by a seagull.

So just like the hatchlings and the waves, once we get to a certain point in our journey, most of the people around us think we are through the hard part. They believe we are fine and ready to “move on.” However, that is far from true. There are many days when we are still overwhelmed by waves of grief… There are even some days when it feels like you are back at square one.

Eventually, you do learn to “swim” when the grief hits. However, it takes the strength already gathered in the journey to do that… And even then, even once you think you have “made it,” there will still be “obstacles and danger”… there will still be hard days.

Maybe it sounds silly, but I really related to the hatchlings as I stood on the beach and watched their struggles and ultimate triumph. I felt that God was using the miracle of life to teach me that grief is just as much a part of this same miracle.

Life is not just the happy times or just the bad times. Instead, it is the mixture of good times and hard times… Joy and sorrow… miracles and grief… the yin and the yang. It is these opposite forces working together that make us strong, truly alive and inter-connected with each other.

Here is a brief clip of the miracle that day… Hopefully, hearing the excitement in that moment will make at least one other person smile today…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQmpEgI8LnU

What about you? Did you or have you struggled in your grief? 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

* 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.