widow – Page 43 – Peace, Love & Grief

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

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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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Does it have to be emotions on or off?

I feel like I am going crazy. My emotions have been on hyper mode since this started. If I am sad, it is extreme. If I am happy, it is extreme. If I am angry, it is extreme. No matter the emotion, it is to the extreme. It seems like the only way to have any control at all is to shut them down completely. I hate it. Can anyone tell me if this is a normal part of grieving?
~ Linda, April 16, 2013

I remember this feeling so well… I also remember it lasted for well over a year. I also know that I still have the occasional day like this…

The other day I was having on of “those” days. I am sure you know what I mean… It was one of those days where life really isn’t bad, but for whatever reason, I seemed to miss Bruce more than normal. All I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and cry. Yes, even now (3.5 years later), I still have days where all I want to do is stage my own protest over this path life has chosen for me.

Now, however, those days are occasional days… And I am better able to recognize what is happening and turn myself around. Back then, though, those days were the norm… They were every day.

That first year was extremely hard. Trying to adjust to all the changes while going through life as if everything were normal (which it wasn’t) and all the while missing the other half of my soul… my best friend, lover and confidant. No wonder my emotions were off the charts. I was not equipped at all to handle those emotions, and as a consequence, my whole life felt comletely wrong and out of balance.

From the journal excerpt above, it is obvious that even 3 months in, I knew I was struggling. I even knew I needed to make some changes. Yet, the task felt as impossible or daunting as turning the Titanic… absolutely necessary but it would be a very slow process.

So, how did I make that turn? Well… There isn’t any one answer or rememedy. This blog has been proof of that as I have talked about the many different ways I have worked through my grief. However, the biggest epiphany happened just a few weeks before the 1 year mark.

At the time, I was building a leadership module for my office regarding how to handle emotionally charged conversations. While doing my research, I learned that our behavior is a direct result of our emotions which are a direct result of our thoughts. If you need to change a behavior, you need look past the behavior and the emotion and deal with the thought – the story we tell ourselves.
It sounded logical… but simple? NO! Not so much…

The truth was I had heard variations of this same thing from several sources. It really wasn’t new information. I don’t know why it suddenly made sense, but it did. And… like turning the Titanic, this would be a slow and arduous process as I learned that I didn’t need to turn my emotions on or off. I just needed to understand what was driving them.

There were several thoughts I had to work through. However, the biggest one was the thought that I was a “victim” of life’s cruelty. With this thought came the idea that I was powerless to handle what had and was happening to me. recognizing these thoughts was the first step… but it takes more than that to change a thought.

The next thing I had to do was to separate the facts of my situation from the fiction I was telling myself. For example, the factual data shows that my situation is not unusual. The most deadly decade for men is their 50s which drives the second fact that most widows are in their 50s. (When Bruce died, he was 52 and I was 51.) While I was emotionally telling myself one story, the truth was God had not abandoned me nor was life “against” me. I wasn’t a “victim” of anything. Life is just life… We all live and we all die. It sucks… and it is hard… I HATE it… but it just is.

Next I had to look at the “powerless” part and separate those facts from the fiction. This was one space where I looked to Bruce for my answer. He had always told me that I was much stronger than I thought I was… I just needed to look at things from a different angle. I needed to see that life always offers choices. I can choose for myself or I can give that power away. Granted, I didn’t have any choice in Bruce’s death, but I could choose how I respond to it. For example, I could choose to be grateful for what I have been given rather than dwell on what I have lost.

Is this easy? NO WAY! In fact, I would say it is one of the biggest challenges I have ever encountered. The fact that I have the power to choose my attitude in each moment is huge. Remembering that I have that power is even bigger. But here is the thing, the way we choose to live is a learned, practiced behavior. This means with practice, I have been able to re-learn how to live my life… or maybe I should say I am re-learning…

This is a day by day, moment by moment endeavor. Some days and moments are better than others. But… as time passes, it has become more and more my “norm”…

And through it all I have learned that it isn’t a matter of turning emotions on or off. It is a matter of choosing which emotions I will let drive my actions.

And as for me… I am no longer the victim… Instead, I am much happier to be the hero of my life’s story.

I miss you, Babe.
And I am sad.
But I am learning to be a whole being on my own.
I will be okay.
~ Linda, Sept, 2015

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with emotional upheaval and that feeling that it was completely out of your control after your loss? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Is it normal to be jealous?

Tomorrow is a day of love
for everyone…
but me.
My love is gone…
~ Linda, February 13, 2016

After Bruce passed away, I remember the first time I saw an older couple walking ahead of me holding hands… so happy… so content… so loving. My immediate reaction was one of jealousy. I could not understand why these people were allowed to have the very thing that had been taken from me.

My next reaction was one of disdain toward myself for feeling this way. I remember the tears that welled up in my eyes, as I turned and walked in another direction. I had no idea what to do with either emotion.

I remember another time when I was traveling, I was sitting in the hotel bar eating dinner. Next to me sat an older couple laughing, talking and flirting with each other. At one point, the woman noticed me watching them in the mirror. She turned to me and said, “I’m sorry. I hope we aren’t bothering you.”

It may sound strange, but I couldn’t help but smile back at her. “Y’all are fine,” I responded. “I was just thinking how lucky y’all are. I lost my husband a few months ago, and I miss those moments.”

I will never forget the compassion in their eyes as the woman told me that she had lost her husband many years ago and had recently remarried… She giggled a little as she told me there were in their late seventies, still “honey-mooners” and loved to spend time with each other. I remember feeling warm inside at their story. I remember smiling and talking to them while we ate… I was so happy for them, but deep inside, I was still jealous – I was still alone, and I could not imagine the whole dating and remarriage thing.

I remember sitting on an airplane several months later. Next to me was another older couple. Throughout our flight, they snuggled up sharing earbuds as they played a game on their tablet. They never seemed to notice me watching them out of the corner of my eye. I couldn’t help but smile as I remembered Bruce and I doing the same thing just the year before. I wondered if they knew how precious this moment was… But I was still jealous.

Even this last week, I found myself dealing with the pangs of jealousy. For years due to life’s circumstances, a sweet friend and her husband have had to live hundreds of miles apart. Recently, due to life’s changes, they are back together under one roof. This past week they celebrated their 20th wedding anniversary… together… as they should. On the morning of her anniversary, she brought in a small wedding photo album and placed it on my desk at work.

Here was where it got really sticky for me. I am happy for her… for them… I genuinely am! But opening that book and looking at those pictures was hard… I don’t know how to explain it… But once again, I felt that same jealousy of something I will never have… And that same disdain toward myself for feeling that way.

Through the last 3.5 years I have encountered many, many examples of times when I felt this way. I’m not proud of it. In fact, it is a bit embarrassing to write about… To be so honest about a character flaw that I know I need to learn to handle better.

But it is honest… and…

Late this week while talking to another friend dealing with a loss, I realized it is normal.

She shared her feelings with me with a bit of trepidation, and asked if she was “bad” for feeling jealous. Now that I was the one on the outside looking in, I realized how silly that sounded. Of course, when we loss someone we love we are likely to feel jealous of others who still have similar relationships.

That doesn’t mean that everyone who experiences loss feels jealousy. I know I have had other loss in my life that did not create jealousy. However, when the relationship was filled with passion and love, I believe jealousy is a natural reaction.

I don’t know if I will ever completely get passed that jealous response when I see other loving couples experiencing the small, precious moments of life. However, I do know that as time goes by that initial jealous pang gets shorter…

And the smile and warm feelings of precious memories that will always be mine gets longer.

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… When Your Dreams Become Your Dreams

Do you know that place between sleep and awake.
That place where you still remember dreaming?
That’s where I’ll always love you – that’s where I’ll be waiting.
~ Tinker Bell

This week I had one… I hadn’t had one for a while… What was it? A dream… a dream about what was once my life dreams… a dream about Bruce.

I must say I love these dreams! They fill me with so much energy and happiness. I wake up smiling… and that smile lasts for days. I have had several of these dreams since Bruce died.

The first time I dreamed of Bruce, we were bike riding… sort of. He was riding the bike; I was riding on the handle bars. Like kids, we whispered secrets and laughed as we rode through small side streets in a small, country town. We ended up in a meadow where we sat under a huge oak tree sharing a picnic lunch while we talked and snuggled. Toward the end of the dream, I began to realize we were slowly moving apart until I couldn’t touch him anymore. He quietly faded from my side, and I awoke.

Another time, I dreamed we were joy riding in his little, red truck down country dirt roads. Periodically, we would pick up and drop off one or two of our kids, enjoying conversations and laughter. The dream ended when Bruce dropped me off “at home” saying he’d be back later.

In my dream this week, we were running, playing and laughing on an obstacle course through a city. At one point, we came to a hole (or tunnel) built into the side of a bridge. There was graffiti all around it with my name and an arrow pointing the way through the hole/tunnel. I could see through the hole… It led to a world where everything was upside down. I was hesitant… not because I was scared but because it was too high for me to reach. Bruce grinned and asked if I trusted him.

“Of course!” I responded. Then he boosted me up and I crawled through without an issue. As we stood up on the other side, I didn’t feel upside down – I felt right-side up. But when I looked back through the hole, the world we came from now looked upside down. I turned to ask Bruce what this was all about, but at that moment my morning alarm went off, and I was instantly awake.

Normally, I hop right out of bed when my alarm goes off without a problem, but on this particular morning, my initial reaction was “Noooo… I want to go back to sleep. I want to go back to that dream.” That was not possible – I knew that. So instead, I found myself smiling and saying “thank you” as I dressed for work. Thank you for a wonderful dream… Thank you for a wonderful night.

At one time, all of my dreams for the future were wrapped up with Bruce… That is the way of relationships, and it was wonderful. We dreamed of the days when we could laugh, play and hang out together… While he was alive we both worked, so that day was on Sundays. It was our day. We never made plans without the other one an were okay with that… We knew we only had a few more years until retirement… Then our dreams to spend more time playing would really happen.

But that isn’t how our story went…

Bruce died… and now, those dreams are only in my dreams… I don’t have these dreams often – only a few times a year – but when I do, I feel all the same hope… All the carefree feelings that dreams are made of are mine again for a few brief moments.

I remember when Bruce died. I read so many articles about people who never dream of their loved ones and were frustrated. I think I would be frustrated too, so I am extremely grateful for my dreams. I also read about others who dreamed of their loved ones and felt like a “message” was being delivered. I can’t say there have been any messages… at least not in words.

If anything, perhaps Bruce just wants me to remember to have fun… to not get so caught up in all the serious stuff of life that I forget to actually live my life… To accept life one beautiful moment at a time and enjoy whatever that moment has to offer before I move to the next one.

So what do you do when your life dreams become your dreams? For me, I will simply remain thankful that these have been my dreams at all…

What about you? Did you or have you ever dreamed of your loved one? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Going home

The month of May was a crazy one – filled with one trip after another. The month didn’t start that way… I didn’t plan it that way. Normally I would never fill every single weekend with a trip. (Mainly because it would be too exhausting.) However, as each opportunity presented itself, I found myself wanting to go… so I did.

One weekend was spent with a dear friend celebrating her upcoming birthday. Another was spent in Mississippi with one of my daughters and my grandson. And another was spent at a family reunion in honor of my daughter and son-in-law visiting from England.

If you are counting, though, you will realize there are two weekends unaccounted for… Those two weekends had actually been planned for months. It was my first trip back to Michigan… back to our home since before Bruce passed away.

To say I was nervous about returning would be an understatement… Michigan is where we first told each other we loved each other, where we shared our first home, and where our lives changed forever.

While we moved away from Michigan over 6 years ago, we usually went back about once a year to visit our family and enjoy a short break from the summer heat of Florida. On our last trip in July of 2012, we attended Bruce’s annual family reunion and spent time with both our daughters and Bruce’s grandaughter. Neither of us had any idea that trip would be our last one together.

However, six months later, Bruce passed away… For years, the idea of going back to Michigan (going back home), seemed too hard. While I love being here in our home and our space in Florida, I couldn’t quite bring myself to travel back to the place where we started.

However, I decided this was the year to go back.

I spent the first few hours enjoying my daughter – catching up and laughing with each other. The next few days were spent as a girls’ weekend with my soul sisters and my daughter. These days were wonderful and filled with tons of love and laughter. Then, Monday and Tuesday was spent in my old office – visiting and working with my former coworkers and friends.

Up to this point everything was fine. I hadn’t been anywhere yet that was significant to Bruce and I so there was nothing too emotional. The next three days, however, were dedicated to exactly that. With my daughter at my side, I had a list of a few very specific places I wanted to visit.

The first place I wanted to see was our first home together. I remember when my daughter and I first moved into Bruce’s home, I thought it looked like a ski lodge. (I still do… and I love it!) As soon as we pulled up, a thousand sweet, precious memories came flooding back – from the night my daughter and I first arrived, to snowball fights that found their way into the house, to nights spent cooking and dancing in our tiny, little kitchen, to evenings spent watching summer sunsets from our deck. This home was sold long ago so we couldn’t go inside. But we did walk around the building, sharing some of our favorite stories from those years.

Our next stop was a small lake with miles and miles of hiking trails. The first time I ever went there was with Bruce. He woke me up one Sunday mornin and told me he had a gift for me – but not one in a box… something better… something much better.

It was springtime and Michigan was finally starting to warm up after my first long winter. When we pulled into the parking lot, I smiled. He had just given me a great gift!.. A place where I could spend hours outside just breathing and enjoying life. We spent hours walking that day, simply enjoying nature and each other. In fact, every year when we would visit from Florida, we always made time for a morning or afternoon hike around “our” lake.

From there, we went to the small restaurant nearby where Bruce and I had our wedding reception dinner. When we were married I was too busy trying to get moved to Michigan, so Bruce had planned everything, even our reception dinner here. It was such a quaint lodge restaurant and our table for the evening was right in front of the fireplace… always my favorite spot! It was absolutely perfect.

When my daughter and I arrived, it was the middle of the afternoon. The dining area was closed so we sat at the bar, enjoying some wine and chatting. However, before we left, I explained why I was there and obtained permission to go into the dining room to spend a few minutes just sitting at that table, remembering those precious hours spent celebrating our marriage and our love. Yes… I cried, but I am so glad I got to sit there once again and remember…

Our last stop of the day was actually one stop with two places I wanted to visit. The first is a local icon, The Corner Bar, which is actual famous for its hotdogs. In fact, the walls are lined with the names of people who have “survived” their Hot Dog challenge… and no – Bruce’s name is not there! LOL! Personally, I hate hot dogs, but Bruce loved them. So, this crazy place was not only his favorite go-to restaurant, it was one of the first places he took me on my first trip to Michigan. On this particular trip, however, I still couldn’t manage to eat a hot dog (even in his honor), so a basket of fried pickles had to do. But it was wonderful to just sit there and take it all in… and remember.

The second half of this stop was the local river and dam. Bruce and I spent so many summer evenings sitting on a blanket here, enjoying a picnic dinner and their Summer Blues by the River series. This was also my favorite “thinking spot” whenever I had something to figure out or just needed some space. As my daughter and I walked across the dam, I smiled as I looked back on the whole day… and what a great day it had been.

On our last night, we were able to spend another evening with Bruce’s family. It was so much fun to just sit and laugh and share stories. This family will always amaze me! The fact that they still love and include me, my kids and my grandson in their lives is a testament to the love we share… and the legacy of Bruce.

This was my first trip home in four years. For the first time, I experienced Michigan without the man who brought me there. How did it feel to go home alone? Well…

I smiled… and I cried… It was wonderful to remember how blessed I was to have lived here and how my whole life changed in this place…

But mostly I was so, very glad to be in this place once again… To experience and remember this space where Bruce and I shared so much love just a few years ago.

What about you? Have you ever had that experience of going back home after your loss? How was that? Or are you still waiting to make that trip? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Whose life is this?

Without Bruce, I feel like a stranger in my own life.
~ Linda, May 21, 2013

This past week as I scrolled through my Facebook “On This Day” memories, I came across this post. The moment I read it, I felt transported back in time. I may have written that three years ago, but I immediately remembered that feeling and all the emotions that went with it.

I can remember feeling that way for at least the first 2 years… When Bruce passed away, my entire life changed so radically and so quickly. Most of the time, I would describe it as feeling “lost,” but in all honesty, I think the phrase above is much more accurate… I just felt like I didn’t belong anywhere – not even in my own life.

Bruce’s death, that sudden loss, felt like being dropped in the middle of a dream… I had no idea where I was, how I got there or how to get back where I felt I belonged… The catch? This was not a dream – this really was my life.

I can remember telling anyone who would listen that I hated my new life… I wanted my life back… my old life… my real life… But that never happened. I remember praying constantly I would wake up and find it was all a dream, but that never happened either. This really was my life… So why did I feel like I was the only character that no longer belonged in it?

Nothing was the same as before… I had lost so much more than a husband. I lost that one person that helped shape each moment of every day. We went to bed together and woke up together. We made the bed together and cooked together. We laughed together, played together and snuggled on the couch together.

Don’t get me wrong… We also had our time apart. However, I always knew that at the end of the day, when all was said and done, he would be there with a smile and a hug. Those strong arms were always there to hold me tight no matter what was happening… That was where I felt safe. How was I supposed to go on without any of that? How was I supposed to act as if this “new normal” was really normal?

So many times in those first years, I found myself wondering through our house looking from room to room for someone who was no longer there. I felt like a child wondering in the dark… lost, alone, afraid. So many times, I simply sat crying for hours in the middle of the living room floor waiting… just waiting.

It took a few years, but slowly I began to realize that everything I felt was not only normal, it was accurate. I was a stranger in my own life. I was lost. Everything I had thought I could count on day to day had disappeared in a breath.

And there was another side to that coin…

In that same moment when I lost so much, I also acquired many new responsibilities. Everything in my personal life now depended on me and only me. No longer did I have anyone to ask, “what do you think about…” or “how do I fix….” or “can you handle…” or “can you help me with…” Instead, I had to learn how to do everything myself – from handling the taxes to fixing the dishwasher to pressure washing the driveway and handling the car maintenance… and all while grieving the loss of the man I loved more than life itself.

Once I gave myself permission to feel everything I felt without guilt… Once I gave up trying to be a “good widow” (Whatever the heck that is!), I was finally able to work through the frustrations and fears. I was even able to start congratulating myself on each small success… each step toward reclaiming my life.

This small acceptance allowed me to work my way through so many emotions. Slowly through time, I have been able to see the progress I have made since that first day. In fact, I have come so far that I can honestly say I no longer “feel like a stranger in my own life.”

While I still miss Bruce every day, I am learning to love my life again. For the most part, I am joyful and peace-filled. I am no longer focused on me and what is missing in my life. Instead, I am learning to focus on who I am in each moment, being genuine to myself and striving to contribute something worthwhile to the world around me… the same way Bruce did.

What about you? What kind of struggles or fears o you remember coping with after your loss? How did you come to terms with these? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shalom, my friends!

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

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

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

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