mourn – Page 41 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… Another First

How do I live without your love?
One breath at a time…
~ Linda, December 28, 2013

After 2.5 years, I thought I had hit all the “firsts” associated with losing Bruce. However, this week I find myself facing another. My 35th high school reunion is this weekend. I’ve only been to one other… 5 years ago, when I attended my 30th reunion.

I went alone back then because Bruce had to work. However, going alone when you are married and madly in love with your husband is very different than going alone as a widow. To say I am feeling intimidated would be a huge understatement.

Don’t get me wrong… I was also nervous five years ago. In high school, I had been the straight-A nerdy kid who sat quietly in the front row. I had not been in contact with most of my classmates and I had no idea what to expect. Going alone was nerve-racking but Bruce helped instill such a “you-can-do-this” attitude (plus one of my daughters traveled and stayed in the hotel with me), so I didn’t mind pushing myself past my comfort zone.

I am so glad I did, because I had a blast! Five years ago, I met people I had never hung out with before, but my class seems to be a tight-knit group and everyone was wonderful!

When the talk on Face Book started about this reunion, I decided right away, I wasn’t going… not alone… not as a widow. I convinced myself that (a) I was too busy to spend 14 hours driving just to spend a few hours spent at a reunion; (b) I didn’t need to spend the money, etc. This list went on and on. (I can be the queen of excuses when I choose to be.)

Then, life started nudging me. The excitement between my classmates on Face Book started growing. (And I remembered how much fun I had five years ago.) Somehow in the class I am training this week, reunions came up. In the conversation, I mentioned mine and stated I wasn’t going. When they asked why, I tried to explain myself to this group of young adults and found myself stumbling… I didn’t really have a good reason.

After all, as a life coach and mentor, I knew exactly what I was doing. I was avoiding… I was running away – something I always do when I am down-to-my-core scared…

What was I scared of? Scared of going alone, scared of being treated different, scared of not fitting in, scared of being left on the edge – looking in – watching everyone else have fun… just plain scared of the whole thing.

Let me explain.

I’ve learned to go lots of places alone – most places actually. Sometimes that turns out okay and sometimes it is downright bad. It seems to depend on the connection I have with the people I am with. Sometimes I am treated like everyone else and I have a blast. Other times, there is an awkward energy and I feel like a fifth wheel. What if this is one of those awkward times? What if…

I know it probably sounds silly. But even so, these feelings are real… I have to deal with them. If I am honest; if I want to keep growing and moving forward, I need to face my fears, not run away from them… again. I’ve been working on this since Bruce passed… and here it is again.

So you know what I did, right?

I called my son and asked if he wanted to take a weekend trip with me! LOL! Yep, I’m going… but I’m taking some support. I don’t need him to go to the reunion. I just need him close by in case I need a hug… or a shove. : )

Yes… I am well aware that I needed Bruce to be close by on my first KW trip, and my daughter on my first class reunion… and now my son on my first reunion as a widow. I’m okay with that… The bottom line is I’m going. That is huge right now!

And now, the rest of the story…

So I went… I can’t say it was the best night of my life, (no one’s fault… just my own nerves) but it wasn’t the worst either. My son was great encouragement before I left… offering several times to go with me since I was so anxious. As tempting as his offer was, I knew I needed to do this alone. So off I went…

Pushing myself out of the car was a little hard, but I did it. I walked in alone, and I waited in the line alone. I talked to a couple of people, but I couldn’t find my group of friends I was supposed to meet there. Over an hour passed. I felt so out of place… and I started to lose it.

I could feel the tears behind my eyes. What was I thinking? Why did I think this was a good idea? I decided to leave and walked out to my car.

Once safely inside and away from public view, the tears flowed… I couldn’t stop them. All I could think was how much I hate this. I hate the way I feel without Bruce… I hate the way my self-confidence can plummet for no reason at all.

I can’t tell you why, but as I sat there, I started coaching myself… I started telling myself the things I would tell my clients. I won’t go into detail, but within 15 – 20 minutes, the tears were done, and I was headed back inside with a new attitude.

I still felt conspicuous… I still felt like people were staring at me like I have 2 heads, but I just smiled, said hi and kept plowing on. I approached people and talked to them instead of waiting for them to approach me. (NOT my comfort zone!) And, thankfully, it didn’t too long until I found my friends. : ) (Yay!) The rest of the night was spent laughing with my high school girl friends.

My victory? I stayed. I didn’t run away. (That was HUGE!) And I not only survived, I proved something to myself…

When I remember to have faith in myself, I am stronger than I think.

Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

* 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… Here comes the sun

For most of this week I remained in the same sad mode I was in last week. That isn’t normal… Usually I shake it off after a day or so. I’m not sure why this melancholy mood stuck around… but it did.

It seems weird to me that after 2.5 years, I can still feel so sad… It is a sadness that goes all the way to my core. And sometimes, I am at a loss as to how to shake it.

This week I closed the door to my office to “deal with it”… But that didn’t work. So I opened my door to talk to the world and try to forget… but that didn’t work either. I wrote in my journal, worked in my garden, went to the beach, and played the piano – all in an effort to get it out… but nope – nothing.

It’s been too long to still think anyone wants to listen to me cry. So instead, I tried telling jokes or listening to everyone else’s issues and stories. This week, I celebrated birthdays and new jobs and listened to bad days and arguments… but still this grief and sadness continued.

My kids just happened to be calling more this week. (I guess God put it a bug in their ear on my behalf.) To be honest, they have been my biggest blessing… especially this week. One of my neighbors noticed that my house was staying closed up and came on over to sit with me a while… she, too, has blessed my week more than she will ever know.

I posted on my personal Face Book page that I felt lost… I did. I wasn’t depressed. I was sad… I’m still grieving – There’s a huge difference in my book. Some people get it… others want to fix it. They all mean well, but I’m not broken, so I can’t be fixed. This is a journey, and sometimes I am just looking for some extra support when I am struggling.

Some days I ask God to help me… other days I am mad at him all over again. Is this normal? I don’t know… probably. Who knows what is “normal” when it comes to grief.

The hard part for me is that I don’t have anyone I am particularly close to that has lost a spouse. My parents and Bruce’s parents are both still here. My sister and Bruce’s sisters are still happily married. None of my closest friends or my coach have ever lost a spouse. So many times I find myself wishing my grandmothers were still alive so I could talk to them. They would have some good advice, I’m sure. As it is, I really don’t know who to ask what is normal… so I am lost… and I am very much alone.

I’ve read so many of the books, and there are some great ones out there. I’ve researched grief (because research is whatI do) and found a lot of good solid information. I did the support group thing… and found it wasn’t my thing. (I wasn’t real comfortable sharing my deepest feelings with a room full of strangers… that was a nightmare for me!)

Ultimately, I believe it comes down to this… time. Yep – time. And for anyone grieving the length of time will vary. For some people, it may be a few months; for others, it may take years. We’re all different. This week I discovered that according to research, the average time for a widow to feel strong and ready to move ahead is 12 – 14 years… and that’s an average! Wow! That speaks volumes to me.

What I know for sure is I need to just be patient with myself. I need to stop pushing myself – if I feel sad, then I feel sad. When I feel happy, then (yay) I feel happy. Go with it. Feel what I feel – one moment at a time… just be careful not to drop too low or drag anyone down with me.

Thursday night I stumbled across the video below. I’ve always loved this song and this particular rendition has touched my heart. Since Bruce died I’ve said that there is hope in divorce but not in death, but this song reminds me that there is always hope… as long as I believe in it.

http://jewishstandard.timesofisrael.com/israeli-duos-perfect-here-comes-the-sun/

Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… What I miss

I smile when I remember you…even through my tears.

~ Linda, October 17, 2013

For the most part, I function in a positive zone… most days, I am okay. I can smile and laugh and live in the moment. However, I still have days where the grief and sadness are dominant… The past few days have been that way. I just feel sad. Plain and simple, I miss Bruce… I miss so many things about my life with him.

This isn’t the same as a pity party… I’m not caught up in feeling sorry for myself. I am accepting of my reality… I am just sad. I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s a difference. I guess the best I can do is to say there is no “poor me” factor involved. I just miss him.

When you lose your partner, you lose more than just a person. That person filled so many roles… so many spaces in your life. I miss all those things. I always say that Bruce was my hero… and he was. He was also my best friend, my rock and my anchor… He brought stability to my life. I have spent most my adulthood going from one crisis to the next, but not with Bruce. Life took on a peace and fullness that I miss as well.

There wasn’t a lot that bothered or irked him. He was a firm believer in letting go and moving forward. I miss that optimism and strength… The idea that whatever had occurred would be okay because of what still lay ahead.

While I am getting used to going places alone, I still hate it. When I’m out with a group, I feel like an extra wheel… that friend that no one quite knows what to do with. I miss going places with him – side by side… always together. I miss sharing those places and experiences with each other.

I miss going out to eat together. We always sat on the same side of the table so we could still hold hands (or snuggle if it was a booth). (Yea – that probably sounds goofy but I loved it!) I miss that he would always order an appetizer while I ordered a full meal. Then when I got full (which was pretty quick), he would finish off mine… always letting me pick what I wanted, then laughing as I pushed my plate toward him after only a few bites.

I miss going to the beach together. We didn’t even talk that much… We both enjoyed the silence as we sat next to each other holding hands and watching the waves or snoozing.

I miss cooking together. There was something fun and romantic about sharing a space that is really meant for one. I also miss the days when one of us cooked (usually him) and the other (usually me) sat at the counter – watching and talking.

I miss snuggling on the couch after dinner – either in silence or watching TV. It didn’t really matter. Just being together, breathing each other in, was the best part of those moments.

I miss those days when he got home first and would greet me at the door with a glass of wine. OR when I was on the phone with someone and getting stressed, silently, he would come with a grin and a glass of wine.

I miss playing games and knowing that he would never just let me win. He might play sports left handed to give me better chance (LOL!) but he was just as competitive as I am. Whoever won had definite bragging rights for days.

I miss having someone who loves me even when I am wrong. Knowing someone has your back, no matter what, is amazing! Whenever I was frustrated with myself, Bruce would just take me in his arms and hold me. He never reiterated my mistakes… I was already well aware of whatever I had done. I just needed to know that someone still loved me… and that it was him. He never left me doubting his love. It was always there…

Now I do all of these things alone… with only memories to fill the space next to me.

Countless research has shown that in a healthy marriage/partnership the partners put each other first… over children, over other family, over careers… over everything else out there. You are each other’s priority. I miss that… I miss having and being a priority.

Don’t get me wrong, I am loved. I know that without a doubt. But I am not (nor should I be) first on anyone’s list. The other side of that is I no longer have that special person in my life to take care of, either. (That is a tough reality.) Without Bruce, I only have me looking out for me… that feels really strange and really wrong.

I have a friend who lost his wife a few months before I lost Bruce. I remember asking him how he was doing one day and he responded, “You miss the little things… that’s where the relationship and the love came from.” My experience says he was right.

I don’t think there is an answer for any of this… it is what it is.

This is my journey. Some days the road is smooth and the sun shines… other days the road is hard and I can’t see the sun. The only thing I know to do is breathe and take it one step at a time… allowing myself to feel what I feel – knowing that a better day is ahead… somewhere.

Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… A Key West lesson

As I start my blog this week, I am sitting on a ferry bound for Key West… one of my absolute favorite places. As I watch the houses and beaches disappear from sight, I smile as I remember how I ever ended up on this annual trek for our girls’ weekend. A weekend of laughs, tears, hugs and deep, late night conversations. In other words, a wonderful time of sharing, bonding and making memories… a weekend that speaks deep to our souls as women and “soul sistas.”

I smile as I remember the first year I was invited to join this group of women I barely knew… Bruce’s 2 sisters, another girlfriend and myself. The others had known each other for years… I was new to the family, a bit introverted and very new to the experience of an accepting group of in-laws. In other words, I was terrified. My inner “Piglet” kicked in with all the fret and worry that makes Piglet famous, and I decided… I wasn’t going.

Bruce, however, felt I should go. He was never one to tell me what to do normally, but he was pretty insistent about this trip. One night after trying to explain the 100 million reasons why I thought it was a bad idea, I was at the point of tears. At a loss, he finally said, “Would you feel better if I went too?”

I perked right up with that! Yes, that would make me feel better but how in the world was he planning on doing that? This was a girls’ weekend… and he definitely was not a girl.

His solution? Total secrecy… we couldn’t tell anyone. He got a hotel room on the other side of the island. Throughout the weekend, we stayed in constant contact through text. I would tell him where we were, and he would always be within a block. If anything went awry, he promised to be my knight in shining armor and come to my rescue.

The weekend was wonderful! I had a blast. I’ve never been with such a loving group of women. Bruce never had to come to my rescue but by just being close by, he had been my hero… once again. I have been coming back every year since… (but without Bruce).

Now move forward in time… The first year after Bruce’s death, I went but it was hard. I was not interested in meeting or talking to people. I wasn’t even interested in laughing or having fun… all things that make KW what it is. I just wanted to sit and watch the world go by.

I remember a few things about that trip… I remember crying (a lot). I remember the girls taking turns sitting with me as the other 3 would go have fun… never once did they leave me alone nor did they make me feel like I was a bother or that they minded “babysitting” me.

I remember whenever I did talk to someone, I always introduced myself as a widow… Now that, my friend, is a conversation stopper like no other! I remember one of our bartender friends down there finally said, “Just keep breathing. One of these days, you will remember who you are as a person… The day will come when you won’t feel the need to always introduce yourself as a widow.”

At the time, I thought he was crazy… what did he know? But as time has passed, I have realized he was right. Now, I introduce myself as “Linda” (period). Yes, I am a widow, but that does not need to be the focus (or start of) every conversation… not now… not anymore.

As I am anticipating the trip this year, I find myself getting a little anxious. I am an introvert… that is my character. I’m not shy… I am friendly and can hold my own in a conversation. But I am not one to seek out that conversation. I am perfectly content to “people watch” and listen.

But my own inner dialogue went to work on making that simple characteristic a negative one… insisting that my public demeanor makes me a wallflower… the invisible friend. The one people are polite to… but only if they notice me. I was convincing myself that I am just a part of the scenary in the eyes of the world… a nobody.

Do you hear me? Do you hear what I was telling myself? I was doing what a lot of people do. I was listening to that voice in my head tell me that I am not good enough as just I am. The same voice Bruce always told me was wrong…. to ignore it. I don’t need to hustle, scramble or change in order to prove my value or worthiness as a person. I am perfectly fine just as I am. The people who add value to my life, will love me and accept me as I am. They do not try to “fix” me…

My soul sistas are a perfect example of that… That is why I love meeting them in KW every year.

As a widow, however, it becomes hard when that voice starts chattering. It can be loud and quite insistent, and there is no one to tell you any different. That is where I found myself when Bruce died and the volume on that voice increased greatly.

My grief journey, this widowhood, has re-created a loss of self-esteem and self-confidence that I haven’t felt in years. I’m not sure why; it just has. There is something self-defeating in the constant loneliness when the other half of your soul is gone… There is no longer that loving person to lean on or turn to when the days are rough or the nights are dark and long.

And without that person in your life anymore, you must find your strength within you.

As I was writing in my journal this morning, I realized that is where I am… searching for that strength within me – not searching for it from outside myself. I know that was one of the reasons Bruce always wanted me to take this trip. He wanted me to realize that I could just be me (completely me) and still have fun, especially when I am with people who accept me. But even more important, this is true when I can trust and accept myself.

This isn’t easy, nor does it come naturally… not for me. But I can assure you it is true.

This evening, as I return to write the last part of the story, I am back on the ferry and on my way home. This year’s trip is over and I have learned so much. I know without a doubt, we all have something within us that can create feelings of inadequacy… But our job is to not give that voice any power.

At one point this weekend, the four of us talked about that voice and the damage we can allow it to do. We talked about the fact that in order to be a whole person, we have to be look for that love and acceptance within ourselves, because we will never discover our own strength within someone else. We have to love and accept ourselves in order to offer our own unique gifts to the world.

I miss Bruce. I miss his love and I miss his companionship. I even miss his support and the security he offered. But in my core, I know my value didn’t (and still doesn’t) come from him… it comes from within myself. He taught me that a long time ago…

When Bruce died and my world turned upside down, I forgot it for a while. But as time passes, I am learning to love and trust myself again. I am learning that God made me as I am for a reason… I owe no apologies for that, nor should I try to be someone else. I just need to breathe, be comfortable with myself and be true to myself… without any self-doubt.

THEN, I can go out in the world and have FUN living the life I am meant to live.

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. Tell us what lessons or epiphanies you have had. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… We choose who we are

It was a typical Monday a few weeks ago and I was on my way to work at the the ridiculous hour of 6 AM. I had stopped at a local gas station for some caffeine, and while paying, the clerk asked the “required” question, “How are you today?” I smiled and responsed, “Fabulous! How about you?” He laughed and said anyone who could be fabulous so early on a Monday morning must have been sent to make HIS day better, too. We both laughed, and I walked out the door to continue my day.

That conversation is becoming more common these days. While it was definitely typical before Bruce passed, it was not typical for the first 2 years after he died. I was not fabulous and I just couldn’t fake it…

In the very beginning, I was in such shock that I don’t really remember a whole lot of what was happening. I have a few sketchy memories that let me know, I was breathing… but not functional. For example, the day after Bruce died (or the one after that), I was sitting on the couch by his Dad just staring at nothing… trying to just focus on breathing and not falling completely apart. When his Dad spoke up, “Are you going to contact a funeral home?”

Me – Do I need to?

Dad – Yes, you need to make arrangements for him.

He was right and he said with love, but it was horrible to hear. I didn’t want to do it… That would make everything way too real. I knew nothing about death and funerals and all the things I needed to do. I am sure the people around me must have helped and given me direction, but I don’t remember… I was lost somewhere deep inside myself.

I must have given the appearance of being fine because less than 2 weeks later, I was alone again. Rather than sit alone and stare at the walls, I went back to work. While it was good for me to be with people (my co-workers were wonderful), I can’t really say how productive I was… I can’t remember. I do remember looking out my office window (a lot)… it overlooks a major highway in our city and every semi-truck that passed brought a new round of tears. That’s where Bruce was supposed to be… I didn’t want to face this “new normal”… I couldn’t accept it as real.

If you are grieving and you remember these feelings… you are very normal and so am I. It is called shock (or grief brain). If you have watched someone going through this and thought they have lost their mind – they haven’t.
I’m not a doctor or a scientist but it was explained to me this way: The pain of losing someone we love can be so intense that the body will go into a protective mode by shutting down small parts of the brain until the person is better able to deal with the situation.

This initial shock usually lasts about 3 – 4 months. That is another issue… At the 3 – 4 month point, most of the people who have been checking in on you disappear from the scene. It is like clockwork, and every mourner I have spoken to has experienced it at about the same point. So here you are – the shock of your loss and a new life is wearing off… and the people who are still available to help you through it are few.

At this point, I found myself pulling in even further. I was so scared… I didn’t want to burn out the few people still listening and holding me while I cried… (Although, I probably did anyway.) I was completely lost and had no idea how to move forward. Breathing seemed to be the only “do-able” thing on the agenda.

That was then… so how did I get where I am now? Like turning the Titanic, it has been a long and slow process… and I am still working on it day to day.

Somewhere after the first 10 months, I met a wonderful life coach. She helped me realize that while I can’t control everything that happens in my world, I can control how I respond. Is it really that easy? No – not by a long shot! It is probably the hardest thing I have ever done… and I have to do it every single day.

You see, every morning when I wake up, I reach out… and next to me, I find emptiness. Each morning, I am reminded once again that Bruce is gone. This is real, and this is my life. This is my first choice of the day. I could fall apart at that point… I used to… and honestly, there are still some days when I STILL do.

But the majority of the time, I ask myself the same questions my dear friend and coach asked me a couple of years ago, “How do you think you are showing up for the rest of the world?” and “Is that how you want to show up?”

While they sound so simple, those are some pretty deep questions. I want to be honest about my experience and who I am now but I don’t want to bring the rest of the world down – I don’t want to be pitied or be a burden. Somehow, there needs to be a balance between being a positive part of society while still being honest and genuine.

I know how I want to show up… I want to be a positive part of other people’s day. (I don’t want to drag them down.) When I finally leave this world, I want to feel that I left it a little better than when I came in… I want to believe I made a positive difference to someone. But, I know I can’t do that if I am leaving sadness in my wake wherever I go.

I think for me, one of the biggest turning points came when I heard two mourners talking one day. One made the comment, “We can’t help the way we are, we didn’t ask for this. It’s not our fault and we can’t control it. The rest of the world can just deal with us.” She was right – we didn’t ask for this and it’s not our fault. But I realized she was also wrong – we can help it… we may not be able to control our grief every moment of every day, but we can certainly do our best to be our best.

More and more often lately, I hear how “strong” I am… I laugh inside because I’m not – at least I don’t feel strong. These two questions present a daily choice for me that isn’t easy or natural at this point in my journey… “Who do I want to be today?”

Some days I am better at the answer than other days… but I won’t give up. I refuse to be a “victim” of my circumstances. I refuse to let my grief control the rest of my life and who I am. I am determined to choose how I will live each day. I am determined to live as honestly and positively as possible, because ultimately… it really is up to me.

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. Your experience may have been completely different. Please share it with us by going to the comments and leaving a note.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Please, don’t say that

Do Not Tell Me
Do not tell me how to feel;
my feelings are my own.
Do not tell me to stop my grief;
my grief is my own.
Do not tell me what Bruce would want me to do;
Bruce was my own.
He was my love…
and still is.
My pain is here and always will be.
There is no end to our love,
and there is no end to the pain.
~ Linda, January 20, 2015

A couple of months ago, I wrote about how some people will compare grief and loss between people who are grieving in the belief that they are offering comfort in some way… but it’s not comforting. In response to that blog, I have had several people respond that they, too, have encountered that same conversation on more than one occasion (with the same effect).

I mentioned in that same blog that there are other things that have been said that also have the same effect. That is my topic this week… another “please don’t.” By writing this, I don’t want to sound angry or bitter (because I’m not). I do want people to understand that some “standard phrases” that are commonly used when dealing with mourners are actually hurtful. But if we don’t say anything, how will others know?

Another phrase that I have a hard time hearing is “Bruce would want you to…” or “Bruce wouldn’t want you to…” Don’t get me wrong, when I hear this from someone who knew Bruce and loved him, that is fine… In fact, I will listen to what they have to say. (I may not do what they say, but I will listen and consider it.)

What I am referring to today is different. I am referring to someone who either barely knew Bruce or (even more frustrating) did not know him at all. How could someone who did not know him possibly begin to tell me what Bruce would want or not want? I realize that what they are really telling me is their own opinion… what they think I should do.

But they don’t stop there. Instead, they attempt to give their opinion more “authority” by using Bruce’s name. I appreciate their concern. However, by using the emotion attached to Bruce’s name it feels extremely disrespectful… It feels manipulative… It feels completely wrong.

The first year, I would get very upset but I wouldn’t say anything. I was struggling with so many emotions, but I wanted to be polite. So… I would let the conversation continue. However, somewhere in the second year, I started to turn my thought process around.

I began to look deeper into what was being said, and I began to realize that people meant well… They just didn’t know any better. Perhaps, they hadn’t really thought it through. So, what I am trying to achieve today is an understanding of why this particular phrase should be limited to the people who really knew and loved the deceased.

For example…

Earlier this year a childhood friend stopped by while passing through town. We spent some time together reminiscing and talking about what has transpired for each of us since we were children. During our conversation, he asked about losing Bruce and what life was like now. I honestly don’t mind talking about it, so I shared my thoughts, experiences and frustrations. I mentioned the fact that people say things without realizing how hurtful it is. At that point, he told that if he were to do that, he wanted me to be honest enough to tell him.

A few days later, on the anniversary of Bruce’s death, he called to express his condolences for the day and to ask how my girls and I had spent the day. During the brief conversation, he made a comment that “this would be the year Bruce would want me to move on.”

REALLY? I had not seen this person since I was a teenager… He never even met Bruce. How could he say that? What could he possibly know about Bruce and what he might want? Since I had been given permission, I was honest and spoke up (for the first time ever). “Please don’t say that,” I said. “It really bothers me. You never knew him… You can’t know what he would or wouldn’t want.” He apologized and said he understood. To be honest, I don’t know if he really understood or not. I hope he did.

For me, that was a hard step. It felt really awkward to ask someone not to say something. It felt rude even though they had told me to do exactly that. Since that day, I have had this conversation with only a few people… only those who have given me permission to say something. I won’t correct just anyone. However, when those phrases are used by someone who shouldn’t, a wall of defense automatically goes up… I can’t help it. I will get quiet and try to end the conversation. In that moment, all I want to do is get away.

On the other hand, when I am with my kids, it is not uncommon to hear the phrase “Bruce would want ____” several times a day (from all of us). It is just a natural part of the conversation. And believe it or not, I am perfectly okay with that.

Why? Because they knew him. That is the only difference but it is one that matters. They knew him, spent time with him and loved him. Their opinion of what he might or might not want is completely valid… so I listen. I may or may not agree, but I am not offended. Instead, I am grateful for their loving honesty.

So here is the bottom line… When it comes to telling someone what their loved one would or would not want:

⦁ FIRST ask yourself, “Did I know that person?”
⦁ And “Did I know them well enough to know what they would or wouldn’t want?”
⦁ If the answer to BOTH of these questions is “yes”,
⦁ AND your relationship with the mourner is good and solid,
⦁ THEN… PERHAPS, it is okay to say it.
⦁ However, if the answer to ANY of these is “no”, then… “Please, don’t say that.”

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Where are the dreams now?

Reality
I know that you’re not coming back.
I know that even though I wish it weren’t true,
you are gone.
I know…
But it is a bitter pill to swallow.
~ Linda, March 20, 2015

This week’s blog is an extension of last week’s… but then again, that only makes sense since that is the way of time.

Last week I talked about Bruce’s birthday and the dream we had of retiring when he turned 55… This would have been that year. It was supposed to be our time… our dream. But life doesn’t always happen the way you plan it.

I had to go back to work on Tuesday, just like any other day. I woke up, I wrote in my journal, I did my meditation and I worked out. Then I got dressed and drove to work just like any other day… But it wasn’t any other day. It was the day that marked the end of a dream. I walked through the doors at work, greeted the security guard, unlocked my office door and sat down to my computer. However, everything in me was screaming, “NO!!” This wasn’t how it was supposed to be… I wasn’t supposed to be there. This was not what we had planned.

When we met, Bruce and I shared a dream. (I believe it was a part of our initial attraction.) We both wanted to retire on a boat and sail the Caribbean. I used to laugh and tell him that he could be my “cabin boy.” He would laugh right back and tell me that he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his days. I loved that! He didn’t care if I was the “Captain” – he just wanted to be together. Who wouldn’t fall in love with that?!

We spent many weekends looking at yachts – deciding what we wanted and what we didn’t. He used to laugh that we would need an entire separate boat just for my shoes… He was probably right! : )

He was such a thinker… always coming up with ideas for growing a garden on board, a “boat” solar-powered treadmill for me to have a place to run and any other way to make it uniquely “ours.” He spent hours studying ports and pirates, customs and currents. In other words, he got serious about how to actually make our dream come to life. Our dream was real for both of us, and I didn’t doubt that we would really do it one day.

When we bought our current home, I did worry just a little bit. In fact, I questioned Bruce if our dream was just that… a dream. After all, now we had a house and all the responsibilities that go with it. He just smiled and told me that dreams always have a way of coming true… after all – we had found each other.

Then one night… in a breath… in one moment of time, he was gone, I was alone, and our dream was no longer.

I knew it. Over time, I thought I had accepted it. I certainly understood it. I have done the figures and calculations… I know how much longer I need to work before I can retire. (That time-line changes when there is only one person to contribute to the budget.) Logically, I got it… I was aware of the reality of my situation. My world was real and our dreams were gone.

But how does one live – I mean REALLY live – without a dream? Is that living? That is where I found myself on Tuesday. Walking through the motions of my life and realizing that without a dream, what was the purpose? What was the point?

Bruce is gone. He isn’t coming back no matter how much I wish for it. Our dreams are gone too… but my life isn’t over. I don’t want to spend the rest of my days just going through the motions. I want a life with purpose. So while I have spent the remainder of this week mourning the loss of Bruce AND our dreams, I have also come to realize that I must look deep inside myself and find a new dream… a new purpose.

This week has been hard. I have smiled in public and pretended that all was well. However, on the inside, I have been lost… totally and completely lost. I hear this is normal… all couples share dreams and when one is gone, the dreams are gone. It is up to each of us to determine how to keep going.

I’m not sure exactly what my next dream will be but I have the glimmer of an idea that makes me smile. That alone leads me to believe I am on the right path. Life has a way of opening and closing doors, so for now, I will follow my heart, go where life leads me… and pray for the courage to keep moving forward.

I share my thoughts this week praying that if someone else is feeling the same way, they will realize that it is never too late to dream… And dreams are what give our lives purpose.

The Promise
A bird hops through the grass.
A grapevine gently bounces in the breeze.
The raindrops left on the grass from last night’s rain
sparkle in the morning sun.
The ants are already busy scrambling to and fro.
It is a new day;
Full of promise.
Let me open my heart and see the beauty that surrounds me.
Let me accept the promise of today
and hold it to my heart
so I can live each moment as it comes.
~ Linda, September 29, 2014

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Goodbye, my sweet baby boy

There is a peace the comes with acceptance;
And a love that is always remembered.
~ Linda, September 14, 2013

When I started this blog, it was because I lost my husband, Bruce. But there were other losses… other times before this one when my heart was broken. However, one thing I learned on this last journey was that any previous loss that had not been mourned or grieved was still inside waiting and I had to deal with it too. (Weird… but true.) There was too much unacknowledged hurt… and I was stuck. I couldn’t move forward until I looked back and dealt with the other losses first… the ones before this one.

The loss of my first child, a boy, was one of those losses. Due to the culture of the time, the fact that he was conceived before my first husband and I were married was considered an “embarrassment.” It was considered a “blessing” by those around me that he did not survive his birth. For them, his death meant nothing had to be explained… no one had to know. It was as if he never existed.

I already knew that I loved this little boy but suddenly he was gone. He was delivered in the doctor’s office. I was sedated and never got the opportunity to see or touch him – his little body was taken away immediately. I was told to be thankful but I wasn’t… I was devastated.

It wasn’t until Bruce died, 30 years later that I finally mourned my baby boy, Matthew… which means “gift of God.” I spent days working through my emotions and despite the disapproval of a few people, I finally acknowledged my boy to the rest of the world. I planted an angel trumpet tree in his honor and finally mourned my sweet baby boy.

To My Sweet Baby Boy
Linda, October 19, 2013

Who were you?
I never got to hold you in my arms,
Or kiss your brow.

I never felt your sleeping head on my shoulder,
Or your soft breath on my neck.

I never rocked you to sleep,
Or heard you cry.

I only held you inside me for a short time,
While I dreamed of what you would be like.

I never gave you a name or said goodbye.
You were gone before I ever had the chance to see you.

My heart broke that day;
For the first time, I knew what real pain was.
I loved you…
I never had the chance to tell you.
I still do…
I still love you.

Have you ever lost a baby or a child? That is a loss that shatters you deep in your soul. I would like for all of us to support each other and share that piece of our hearts.

If you have experienced the loss of a child, take a moment, go to the comments and leave the name of your child and anything you would like to share about them. Let’s take this space and this time to remember and honor those precious lives that were in our care, however briefly.