Peace, Love & Grief – Page 46 – There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered

Peace, Love and Grief… Valentine’s Day: A day with the lions

Courage…
~ Linda, February 13, 2015

I’m trying so hard to be brave…
But I don’t feel brave.

I don’t want to face tomorrow.
I don’t want to wake up alone.
I don’t want another day without you.

I am so thankful for the memories.
I just wish they weren’t memories…
I wish they were now…

(Our wedding picture… so in love and so happy!)

Earlier this week as I started thinking about what I wanted to write, I knew it would be hard. Anyone grieving knows that holidays are always hard… and here was one specifically designed for lovers and soulmates. (Ugh!) How was I going to write anything that might help or encourage anyone… I wasn’t feeling it. My first thought was to just keep it simple and share some highlights from my journal. But that all changed when my oldest daughter sent me a cartoon with a reminder that made me laugh. Let me explain…

With my first marriage, I converted to the Roman Catholic faith and even spent many years teaching in a wonderful, small town, Catholic school. One of the things I loved about the church were the Saints and their stories. According to the tradition I was taught, St. Valentine was thrown to the lions by the Romans as punishment for performing Christian marriages for Roman soldiers. That story always stuck with me and my kids and every year we call Valentine’s Day, “Don’t-Get-Eaten-By-Lions” Day. Don’t ask me why. It isn’t meant to be sacrilegious, it is just our sense of humor. So on Tuesday, my daughter sent a cartoon with suggested plans for the holiday and a message that said, “And don’t get eaten by lions.” I laughed… until Valentine’s morning, when I realized those “lions” are real.

My first “lion” greeted me as soon as I woke up. I had just dreamed that Bruce and I were riding in his truck talking and laughing. It was wonderful! (I love those dreams, and I cherish every one of them when they come along.) I didn’t want to wake up. I was sooo happy in my dream. I just wanted to stay there… holding his hand and laughing with him. But dreams end and I woke up. All I wanted was Bruce… to be in his arms where I always felt safe. I didn’t want to face the reality of the day, but there I was facing my third Valentine’s Day alone.

The first 2 years, other people sent me reminders that I was loved and not alone – candy, cookies, flowers. I appreciated their genuine kindness on such a tough day, but this was year three. It was time to face my reality. It was time to learn how to face the “lions” around me.

People respond to death in different ways and I realize that some people may believe I should be “over this” by now… I should be used to being alone. However, my reality is very different. I have learned that loss doesn’t come with an “off” switch for love. Today, I would have to face the “lions.”

The “lions”… Spending a day that is all about love without the one person who loved me completely felt like the emotional equivalent of being in the lions den. My problem was I couldn’t decide if it was worth the effort to fight for survival or just give up and be consumed by the sadness I felt.

I always start my day with meditation and reflection. So, as I lay there quietly reflecting, I decided on some new plans for the day that made me smile – some of his favorite things and some of my favorite things. It would be a day about us and the love we still share.

My plans were pretty simple:

The first 2 years I bought myself a present “from Bruce,” and I was planning to do the same this year. However, I realized I had already received the best gift – my dream… time and laughter with Bruce. There was no need for anything more since nothing could compare with that.
Dinner would not be lobster and champagne as I had thought earlier in the week. It would be brats, chips and dip… Not my normal fare but Bruce’s favorite weekend meal.
I planned to work in the yard and get it prepared for Spring. (I never gardened until Bruce passed, and the yard became a memorial garden in his honor. It’s creation was healing for me and each plant is connected to him in some way.)

But most of all,

I decided to seek clarity as I needed it. I decided not to fight or run from the “lions” around me. Instead, I would take the time to stop, breathe and separate my panic from my truth… After all, love is not chocolates or roses or teddy bears. It is not bound to one day… Love is in the little moments. It is constant through time, and it is never-ending.

I will always remember you, Babe. I will always celebrate us. Just like my dream, our love existed in the simplest moments of time spent together laughing, smiling and just enjoying each other… that is love. Because I still feel your love, I can choose to slow down, remember and draw on the strength of those beautiful moments together. There is a peace there.

I can choose peace… I can ignore the “lions.”

This is my story but this is our community… the place where we can share our experiences. To share yours, please go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

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 moment by moment process

All is Well…
~ Linda, September 16, 2013

In each breeze, let me feel your touch.
In each sunrise, let me experience your joy.
In each storm, let me feel your strength.
In the quiet, let me hear your voice telling me…
All is well…
Each moment was planned.
Each smile was for me.
And your acceptance of life as it is
was your gift to help me through this storm.
I loved you…
And even now, you love me.

(Our last picture together; taken 1 month before Bruce died.)

When I started this blog a month ago, I had a dual purpose. One was to create a virtual community of support for anyone suffering loss. The other was to help those around us understand how best to offer support.

Our society tends to treat loss, grief and mourning as one event, but that is wrong. While each of these are connected, they are all separate actions that form a process that is never ending. With the right support, one does eventually come to some kind of peace… but there is no timeline for that journey nor any specific “right way” to get there.

What do I mean? Well, since Bruce died I have been questioned or given unwarranted advice about choices I have made. At first, this was extremely frustrating. As time has passed and I am able to think with less raw emotion, I have come to realize that people say these things because they honestly don’t know any better… In fact, many times it has come from the people who still have their spouse or significant other by their side. Once I realized that they truly have no idea what they are saying and they really do mean well, I understood that it makes no sense to be upset… instead I want to help set the record straight.

Today’s story is about Bruce’s death and cremation, and the questions that followed it – mine and others. I don’t belittle the hurt behind the questions or the idea that someone else may have made different choices. (Of course, they would.) My hope is that by being honest, we can move away from the idea that grief is something we need to “do right” and replace it with the realization that it is a process. A process that requires the griever to live and bargain with each moment as it comes… none of it is easy or rational. It is a moment by moment journey and we do the best we can in each moment…

It was Friday night, January 11, 2013. I worked late but still managed to beat Bruce home. I arrived at 6:30 PM and brought Chinese food home for both of us. (I still don’t eat Chinese food. Surprised?) Bruce got home about 8-ish; he had worked a 15 hour day and was exhausted. I was so excited to see him that I ran to the door to greet him and take his cooler. He didn’t want much to eat – just soup. As he ate, I sat with him and we talked about what we wanted to do on Sunday (the only day we had off together). We decided either kayaking or the beach… just being together and near the water was all we wanted.

When we went to bed, we were laughing for the most part… I tend to be a worrier and Bruce was always so chill. We would laugh that he was Pooh Bear (with a beer not a honey pot) and I was Piglet (a tiny worrier). I was fretting about something, and he kissed my forehead, pulled me close and said, “Stop worrying, Piglet… It’s time to sleep.”

A few short hours later, I woke up, still in his arms but he sounded like he was having a nightmare. I tried to wake him. I called his name and shook him over and over. Suddenly, he seized up, and collapsed. I was terrified. I called 911 and started CPR. Within moments, EMS was here and they took over. But I already knew… they tried a breathing bag, an Epi-pen and the “paddles”… but the line on the monitor stayed flat. I watched, screaming in my head for him to come back… but I knew. No one said a word… we all knew; they just kept doing CPR. They waited (actually waited) until a police officer came to drive me. Then, we all headed to the ER. It was so surreal… no sirens, no one beside me… just me. Once at the hospital, they put me in a “consultation room.” Within 5 minutes the doctor came in and told me what I already knew.

I was allowed to stay with Bruce about an hour until the Medical Examiner came. I remember stroking his face and his whiskers. I remember thinking he was going to open his eyes at any moment and say, “Gotcha!” I remember telling him how much I love him… and I remember crying. There was no one… I was completely alone and I knew deep inside that was how it would be from now on.

When the ME’s office came and took him away, the police officer took me back home. That was when I remember calling people. It was 3 AM but I didn’t know what else to do. I was so numb and confused. It just didn’t seem real… It was like some horrible dream and I just knew I would wake up at any moment and Bruce would be here… and he would hold me tight. He had to still be okay… He was my hero. I told him everyday that he was my hero…

My first marriage was violent and after 23 years, my kids and I ran away with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Soon along came this wonderful man named Bruce who loved us all with no conditions… just complete and total love. He loved me and he loved my kids… who could ask for more? He really was my hero. How could a loving God take that away? How could Bruce really be gone? It seemed so wrong… so impossible.

I spent the next few hours cleaning the house and preparing for everyone to arrive. Alex, my son, was here first… always willing to take care of his Momma. Everyone else came throughout the next few days… it is kind of a blur. I remember some things but not a lot. I was in such complete shock. I just remember that I had to concentrate just to breathe… (even writing this, I can’t breathe.)

As everyone came in, I remember so many people saying, “We are here for as long as you need us.” But that wasn’t true. Within 1.5 weeks, everyone was gone. I hadn’t even come to terms with anything yet. I wasn’t even breathing yet… but they were gone. I know they all had lives to get back to… they really couldn’t stay indefinitely, I know that. But now I was all alone… so completely alone.

I was trying so hard to be strong and brave so Bruce would be proud. I just wanted to do this “right” and do what I remembered he had wanted. We had talked about death and what we wanted… and he always said that he did NOT want a viewing. (He hated being the center of attention.) He wanted to be cremated and to have his ashes scattered in the ocean. He did NOT want to end up on a shelf somewhere. He was very specific about that… So that was my plan. I had no idea what I was doing and there was no one to guide me… but I was going to give it my all.

It took 2 weeks for the funeral home to call, and I went to pick up his ashes by myself. At first, they tried to give me the wrong ashes. Then, they put them in a plastic bag, like the kind you get at the grocery store. I was so appalled. How dare they! This was a man… He was my husband… He was my soul. I cried all the way home. Once here, I lit a candle in front of the container and sat vigil for the next 24 hours. How could such a wonderful man be inside such a small container? It was too much to comprehend. I just sat…

The next day, I knew what I had to do. I sent the family an email stating that I wanted to hold a memorial to scatter his ashes on his birthday at sunrise. That was still a few months away and every response said, “yes.” I spent the next few months carefully planning and writing that memorial. At one point, his Mom (whom I love dearly) asked if she could could keep some of his ashes. As hard as it was, I had to say “no” – I didn’t want to cause any pain or be mean, I only wanted to do what Bruce had asked. He was my world; my allegiance was to him. I needed to do this right. Thankfully, his family was understanding and supported me completely in following Bruce’s wishes.

On the day of the memorial, it was supposed to rain… but it didn’t. It was beautiful. At sunrise, Alex and Jared (my son-by-marriage) took Bruce’s ashes out in the kayaks past the breakers and scattered them. The memorial and brunch were perfectly “Bruce”… I know he was smiling. For such a sad day, it was beautiful.

No, I did not keep any ashes. I wasn’t trying to be mean or unkind to anyone. I was merely trying to do as Bruce had asked. When people stated that they wished I had saved some, I sent the sand from the beach… that was all I had. In fact, it is all I have for myself.

I hurt … so do all of us that loved him. I am so proud that he was such an amazing man… so full of unconditional love… such a hero to all of us. We were all so blessed to know him and to love him. I still cry for him several times a day. I will miss him until the day I am allowed to join him.

This is a simple story… but it is one of love. While someone else may have done things different, please understand that my only intention was to do what Bruce had asked of me because I love him. And I know if the story were reversed, he would have done the same for me.

Because, after all… isn’t that what any of us would try to do?

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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Something unexpected

Happiness is not a destination;
It is a way we can choose to travel on this journey called life.
~ Linda, September 29, 2013

Originally I had a completely different idea for this week’s blog. However, as you know, life takes its own path and has presented something new this week. Since this blog is about sharing my journey, openly and honestly, this is something I feel compelled to share.

Last week I talked about the different emotions we all encounter on this journey. Up until now, those emotions have come in waves… sometimes as tsunamis. Some days I am drowning and other days I manage to stay afloat. This week, however, was completely different… a complete surprise.

I started keeping a journal when Bruce passed away, I think my entry this morning, may be the best way to share this week’s experience with you…

Hi Babe,

A few tears last night and this morning… I miss you. I wish you were still here. I rearranged the pillows on the bed last night so I could try to sleep in our “snuggle” position. It helped a little… but your breathing was missing, your body heat was missing and the way you would pull me close and gently stroke my arm and back were missing. Actually, it was all missing…

I’m glad I went to the grocery store last night so I don’t have to go anywhere today. Three weeks of steady, non-stop go go go… I need a day to get out of my head and into my soul to reconnect with me. There is so much going on right now. I need today so I can slow down and regroup. I have been traveling so much and today I need to be in our space. I need some space and time to cry and write and think about us. I miss you… I miss us. This is one of those days when I just want my life back.

(Up to now, this probably sounds familiar doesn’t it? Ever have those days? Keep reading; this is the good part!)

I’ve actually had a whole week of good days! Seven days in a row – THAT is a first!! : ) I think that is progress. I still missed you everyday; I still thought about you constantly, but I wasn’t crying – there was a peace and even happiness with myself. It’s hard to explain… it wasn’t a “happy-go-lucky, love-that-all-this-happened” kind of happiness. It was more of a “I-like-the-direction-I-am-taking-with-my-life” kind of happiness. I can’t change what has happened, but I can create something good out of something bad and THAT is a miracle.

Does that even make sense? So many times there is a guilt associated with being happy – as if I am never allowed happiness again in this lifetime… but that isn’t me. Before you died, I was a very happy person… Shoot, I am a happy person – it’s just part of who I love to be. However, whenever someone has said, “You’re doing so well.” I have felt guilty. I want to say, “No, wait!” I have felt the need to explain that was really not accurate… I still cry… a lot… just not in front of everyone. I’m not really “doing so well.” I’m just better at keeping it to myself.

No more guilt. I am thankful for the days when I feel good. I don’t need to worry if that is “okay” with someone else or what they think of it. It doesn’t matter if they understand that “happy” has a slightly different meaning now. It is good for me, and I know you want me to be happy… Heck, you did everything in your power to make me happy every moment we were blessed to spend together.

I do still miss you and I do still cry. (Today is one of those days.) But it’s okay to feel happy again. It takes nothing away from us, who we were or how much I still love you… It’s a good thing.

I love you, Babe! Always and forever! xxxooo

This was a first for me… to be blessed with so many good, genuinely happy days in a row. I never thought this would happen for me, and I bet there are a lot of people out who have either been here or are still waiting. Either way, if this is to be a community where we share our experiences in order to help each other, then don’t hesitate to share yours. Please, go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

Also, while this blog is weekly, I have added a Facebook page of the same name for daily motivations. Just something quick and fast to lift our souls.
www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief

Peace, Love and Grief… A storm of emotions…

THE STORM
~ Linda, October 1, 2013

The storm rolls in;
At first I do not notice.
I can still see the sun;
The part of the sky I am focused on
is beautiful… blue…
I smile.

Then, I see them;
The clouds rolling in,
Getting darker and darker
As they crowd out the sun
and cover my beautiful sky.

I can barely see the light from the sun
As it struggles to find its way around the clouds.
The blue sky is gone;
The sun is gone;
Heavy drops begin to fall from the sky…
Down my cheeks.

I try but I cannot stop them…
Not for now.
But I know one day soon,
The blue sky will greet me again.
And the warmth of the sun will bring back my smile.

If you are grieving, then you are already aware of the multitude of emotions that can hit you in a short span of time. Some days I feel like I must be losing my mind as I go from feeling happy to sad to angry and then, to round it all out, (if I am blessed) I may get a still, calm peace. Many times there is no rhyme or reason, it just hits like an unexpected summer storm. I am learning (after 2 years) that this is normal. Seriously!… Evidently, this is one those things that is supposed to be our “new normal.”

So as abnormal as all this sounds, I have come to expect it… roll with it, if you will. Sometimes it comes on like a typhoon and takes me completely by surprise. But I have learned that it will subside, as well – sometimes as quickly as it came on, while other times it may take a few days to leave like a harbor fog that refuses to burn off. (sigh)

For me, this last week was a storm of emotions. Monday was the 2nd anniversary of my husband, Bruce’s death. In the days leading up to it, I was a complete mess. While I know that dreading the day is usually a lot worse than the actual day itself, that tidbit of knowledge did not help me cope. Two of my daughters were here with me for support, and they were absolutely wonderful. However, I had not seen one of them in a year and the other in two years, so I felt guilty. “Why was I wasting precious time with my tears?!” My kids are great though… they reassured me that this was why they were here. Then, they held me while I cried, listened to countless stories about this man I (still) love and participated in all my “rituals” for this day of remembrance.

Once Monday was over, I had to say goodbye to one daughter, then travel 12 hours to visit another for her birthday. It was such a joy to spend time with my other daughter, son-by-love (her husband) and grandson. We had such a wonderful time celebrating, eating, laughing and just having fun. But as you may have already experienced, even happy times can be overrun with guilt (for having fun), sadness and just-plain, old-fashioned “I-want-my-husband-back” self-pity. Add on top of that another round of goodbyes to everyone as I headed home AND…

you have a mix of emotions that could bring Hercules to his knees gasping for breath.

So then the question is – how to cope? For everyone it is different. In fact for me, it might be different each time. My first two steps, however, are pretty consistent. It is my last step that varies. For this week, this is what worked for me:

I remind myself that it is okay to let myself feel what I feel and to cry when I need to… no guilt.
I don’t need to apologize for feeling what I feel, whatever it is. My feelings are mine, and they are valid.
And when I have let myself feel sad (or whatever it is) for a time, I remind myself that there is still something positive for me here in this moment… And for me (this week), that is the people I love and who love me unconditionally.

This isn’t my answer every time, and I know this isn’t the answer for everyone. I want this to be a community where we share what works. So, please, go to the comments and leave a note of how you cope. What works for you?

Who knows?… You may hold the answer for someone else.

Peace, Love and Grief… What is this all about?

There is a peace the comes from understanding,
And a love that is always remembered.
~ Me, September 14, 2013

Welcome to Peace, Love & Grief. What is this all about? Two years ago I found myself on a journey that I did NOT want or ask for. Where was I going? I did not know. All I knew was it felt like a nightmare with no end, and I felt completely alone. “What kind of journey,” you ask? It was and still is my journey through grief.

Yes, there were people around me who care and love me but from where I stood, no one seemed to be able to understand. I felt lost and abandoned and so utterly alone. It has been a slow journey and since I am not of the opinion that this journey will end in this life, I know I still have a long way to go. I have made a lot of mistakes. However, I have had a lot of help and have learned a lot in these two years. That said, my wish is not to tell anyone what to do or not do, how to feel or not feel or any of those things that usually frustrate me when someone says them to me. : )

My wish is to share my journey as it was and is – to be open and honest. If by doing so, I can help even one person as they travel along their own journey, then it is good and I am at peace…