grief – Page 46 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love and Grief… What about the ring?

What to do about the ring? That has been one of the quandaries for me since Bruce passed… but not his ring – mine. When Bruce died, I was handed the only jewelry he ever wore (and never took off) – his wedding band and a silver anchor necklace. Immediately, I slipped his wedding band onto the chain and placed it around my neck where it has remained ever since.

As for my wedding band, I didn’t even think about it for almost a year. I still felt married so for a long time it never even occurred to me to “do” anything with my ring. Over time I began to notice that different widows did different things in regards to their wedding bands. Some took it off immediately. Others moved it to their right hand, wore it on a chain around their neck or had it made into a different piece of jewelry. However, others just continued wearing it… I continued wearing it.

For me, I just couldn’t bring myself to take off my ring… it meant too much to me. When Bruce asked me to marry him, we went to pick out rings and the conversation went something like this:

Bruce – What kind of ring do you want?

Me – Real.

Bruce just laughed. He had heard the story before. After I divorced my first husband, I took my wedding and engagement rings to a jeweler to see if I could trade the value of the rings towards a Mother’s ring with the birthstones of my children. The jeweler kept talking about the value of the gold but not the diamond. Finally I asked, “What about the diamond?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this,” she said. “The stone isn’t even cubic zirconia… It’s glass.”

GLASS??? That poor jeweler must have thought I was crazy, because I just started laughing. My ex-husband had gotten the last laugh after all. All those years of hearing him talk about the beautiful diamond in that ring, and I could have been cleaning it with Windex. (That story still makes me laugh!)

Anyway, with Bruce, I actually picked a small marquis cut diamond set in white gold. Bruce asked me why I wanted such a small stone. I explained that my hands are pretty small so a large stone just looks funny. Plus, with all the sailing we did, a large stone would probably get in the way.

A few months later while packing to move from SC to MI to get married, Bruce flew down to help the kids and I pack. At the end of the last day, he asked me to walk with him out on the dock for “some quiet time and one last look at the water.” As we sat watching the sun set over the river, he took my hand and looking at it said “Something’s missing.” Then, he took out a ring and placed it on my finger. It was the same ring I had chosen with one exception… it was a larger stone than the one I had picked. I looked at him with tears in my eyes. “It’s bigger,” I said.

“I don’t want you to ever doubt how valuable you are to me,” he said. “I want you to always look at this ring and know without a doubt that you are my world.”

A few weeks later when he placed the wedding band on my finger, I realized immediately that he had done it again. I had picked a simple band, not wanting to “break the bank.” (After all, he was taking on a wife and 4 kids… that was going to have enough impact on the finances.) But what he gave me was a beautiful wrap with 6 small diamonds to surround my engagement ring. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen… and even more beautiful because of the love that came with it.

(After the wedding, we had the two rings soldered together so it was actually one solid ring.)

With all of these beautiful memories in mind, I didn’t want to take this ring off. Everyday, I would look at it and remember how much I had been loved, and how much I had loved him. It was a material representation of what we had… I couldn’t let go… I just couldn’t.

After the first year, I began to realize that while the ring brought me comfort, it also created some awkward conversations. Inevitably, someone would notice the ring and ask about my husband. I would answer that my husband had passed away and the conversation immediately became awkward. Caught off guard, people didn’t know how to respond, but I didn’t know how to answer any different. I came to realize that for my own sake, I needed to do SOMETHING different.

Doing what I usually do, I started with some research. Immediately, I found that there is no such thing as “widow’s ring etiquette.” There is no etiquette on what to do and when to do it. The bottom line is each person does what feels right for them… and what feels right at one point may change over time.

Eventually, I came upon something called a “widow’s ring.” While this tradition is rarely followed in the US today, it can be traced back to Victorian Europe (maybe earlier). A widow’s ring is set with dark stones and worn either in place of or with the original wedding set.

At this point, I decided to place my setting on Bruce’s chain and wear them both around my neck. My finger felt so empty as I started my hunt for the perfect ring. I didn’t have anything in particular in mind. I just knew without a doubt when I saw it, I would know.

Sure enough, seven months into my search, I found the perfect ring last week in Mexico. I knew it the moment I saw it. It was nothing like I had imagined but I knew immediately that this was the perfect symbol to represent our life together.
It is not dark stones at all. (I think that would have been too sad, too negative and definitely not a representation of Bruce and me.) It is a beautiful blue/violet tanzanite… the color of the ocean where we met and spent so much time sailing, as well as the sky we dreamed under. The stone is surrounded by a triangle – the symbol of strength, hope, spirituality, past/ present/ future and both the masculine and feminine (depending on the direction it points).

I was searching for a widow’s ring, but that is not what I found. I found something I prefer to call a “life ring.” Why? Because it perfectly represents Bruce and I – our life before we met, while we were together and as we wait to be together again. I love it! It feels absolutely perfect.

So, here I am two years and five months into this journey and a symbol of the life Bruce and I share(d) is in place… one more hurdle jumped successfully.

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

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Peace, Love and Grief… Life lessons in Jamaica

When this blog posts (a day late), I will have just returned from a beautiful week-long cruise with one of my daughters, her husband and my grandson. However, as I am starting to write, I am sitting in a hotel in Alabama contemplating the remainder of my drive to the NOLA port and the upcoming cruise.

While I am excited to have time to relax with people I love, I am a little bit anxious… this is my first cruise since Bruce passed. Cruises were our thing… We met on a cruise, honey mooned on a cruise, cruised with my daughter and her husband on their honey moon. (It was fair. She went on our honey moon cruise, too. : ) ) In fact, when we lived in Michigan, we had a sailboat with a small cabin, and spent many summer weekends on our own mini cruises.

But that is only part of my anxiety about this cruise… When you are grieving, most “firsts” without your loved one are encountered during the first year. Yet, here I am 2+ years later experiencing another first.

The Christmas before Bruce passed, we gave each other a trip to Jamaica which we scheduled for March. Bruce had been before and was so excited to take me and show me around. (He had planned every detail from a beach side bungalow and had a romantic, private, beach side dinner to day trips all over the island.) But that trip never happened… he died a few weeks after Christmas. I couldn’t bring myself to go alone, so I cancelled that trip… not sure if Jamaica would ever be in my future.

This cruise, however, makes a stop in Jamaica. I am excited to finally get there, but it is bittersweet to go without Bruce.Thankfully, I will still be with people I love.

This is my journal entry for that day and the lesson life taught me in Jamaica…

Day 3 – Montego Bay:

Today we are in Jamaica. We docked in Montego Bay while we were eating breakfast. This morning I was so nervous and anxious about this port of call that I was sick to my stomach. My grandson chatted all through breakfast telling me all about the island – its national bird, the flag, and everything else his mother taught him in preparation for this trip. By 9 AM, we were off the boat, sitting on our tour bus and I was feeling calmer. We had a 2.5 hour drive ahead of us as we headed to the other side of the island for a tour of the Appleton Rum Estate and Distillery.

The tour guide, who called herself “Momma”, asked if anyone was prone to car or motion sickness. Everyone on the bus laughed (unknowingly) at the question. However, no one seemed to feel it was an issue, and soon we were on our way with “Momma” pointing out the sights as we passed through the city. Within minutes, however, we were leaving the city and starting the climb into the steep hills. “Momma” told us to relax… “Poppa”, our bus driver, was the best around and for us not to worry. Then, (bless her heart) she chattered and sang for the next 2 hours in an effort to both educate and distract us.

It didn’t take very long for all of us to realize exactly how precarious this drive was. The roads were narrow, winding and filled with potholes. There were no guardrails on the edges of the road and sometimes there wasn’t even room for 2 cars to pass… just a honk of the horn to tell the on-coming driver that it was “our turn.”

I was sitting near the back by a window. My view was either straight up the moutain or straight down. At times we were so close to the jungle that we literally drove through some of the bushes or hit the low hanging branches. (And God protect the pedestrians who were walking along the road, as well.)

People began to quiet down and just watch the road… some were even video-taping this adventure. Me? I fell asleep! When I awoke a while later, it dawned on me that here I was in Jamaica, and I had just stumbled onto another lesson on this journey of life – one that Bruce had demonstrated so many times before.

Bruce was someone who studied different philosophies constantly. I believe that is why he was such a calm, spiritual person. Nothing seemed to phase him. I, on the other hand, have always been a worrier. (Maybe I still am, but that is where this story fits in.) One philosophy that he brought up quite a bit was from the Tao. Whenever, I was worried, he would tell a story about a river. As the river flows along and encounters a rock in its path, it does not try to move the rock. Instead, the river simply flows around it (or over it) and keeps moving.

Jamaicans have the same philosophy in one phrase… “No problem, mon.” They will tell you there are no problems… only situations. There is always some good in the situation or something to be learned from it. Therefore, it is “no problem.”

Riding in the bus today, I realized that my worrying is really a trust issue. According to my faith, I am supposed to trust, but that has never come easy for me. I am a list person – I like a plan… I want to know what is ahead. However, throughout my adult life more often than not, my plans and lists have not become my reality. In fact, every time I think I am getting it all together, God (the universe or whatever you wish to call it) has laughed and changed things entirely.

Before I lost Bruce, I was always able to get back up, brush myself off, and start again – faith still intact. However, when I lost Bruce, I completely lost my trust in God. I felt so abandoned and angry… Trusting God was not happening… I just couldn’t do it.

Several people who have already been down this road have told me this is normal – not to worry – I would figure it out in due time. In the meantime, God’s shoulders were big enough to handle it and still love me.

However, so many other people were appalled and told me that I had to stop feeling the way I did – I had to trust God. There is a problem with that idea though… emotions are not attached to switches and dials. They have to be processed and worked through – not “turned off” or shoved down just because someone says so. That is where I have been.

But back to the bus ride…

While on the bus, I watched those people who were scrutinizing every move our driver made. For all the world, it appeared they would have loved nothing more than to give our driver, Poppa, instructions on how to do this right (aka – their way). But despite all their video tapes, gasps and comments, Poppa kept right on doing things his own way. The result? We arrived at the estate perfectly fine and with quite an adventure to share and remember.

I realized then that this is the way I have been trying to live my life since Bruce died… wanting to trust God, but hanging on and trying to stay in control for dear life – not trusting Him enough to relax and enjoy whatever might come next.

I also realized that I need to live my life more like I was on the bus. There were a few of us in the back, who realized right away that we really had no other option but to trust the driver. So we sat back, watched the scenery and actually saw the beauty of Jamaica and rested – safe in the knowledge that Poppa knew what he was doing much better than we ever could. In other words, I need trust the God that I say I believe in. I need to realize that even when the road is scary, he can handle it. He knows much better than I do, and I can rest – secure in the knowledge that he is in charge… so I don’t need to be.

As I write this, we are leaving Montego Bay, a place Bruce wanted to share with me. I think he still did… and I think that maybe I finally understand what he was trying to help me learn all those years…

If you want to live the life you are meant to live, then there really is no other option except to trust…

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… The value I couldn’t see

Recent research has shown that 2 out of 3 people have low self-esteem. WOW! That is quite a number! (And losing sight of your own value as a human being is quite a loss.) There are many things that feed into how we feel about ourselves but evidently many of us are buying into some pretty negative ideas. I grew up feeling loved and as a child, I remember feeling extremely confident. I have no idea at what point I lost that or why. I could play psychologist and wager a guess, but it would be exactly that – a guess.

I do know that by the time I met my first husband, my self esteem was already low… he didn’t create it. But because I didn’t value myself, I accepted that fact that he didn’t either. I spent many years accepting behaviors that should never have been tolerated… but I didn’t believe in my own value enough to set a boundary or have higher expectations.
After my first marriage ended, as I mentioned a few weeks ago, I had a lot of healing to do. I worked hard and I made progress, but always in the back of my mind was “His” voice saying, “The world would spin a lot easier if you weren’t on it.”

Bruce, however, saw me in a different light… His perspective became something I clung to when that other voice got too loud. I remember one day, soon after we were married. We were sitting on the barstools at the kitchen counter. I don’t remember what triggered the conversation, I only remember the miracle of his response.

I was feeling down on myself, and he was trying to understand why. (God bless him!) I took a piece of notebook paper, crumpled it into a ball and smoothed it back out. Then, I repeated that process several times. The paper looked like a crumpled mess… definitely a piece of trash.

“I feel like this is me,” I said. “Nothing but someone else’s piece of trash and you got stuck with someone else’s trash (me).”

Bruce sat quietly for a moment or two, never one to be rushed – always one to think things through before speaking. I don’t know what I expected to hear or if I even expected anything, but what he said next was a turning point for me.

Gently, he took a clean piece of paper from the stack and set it beside that crumpled paper. Then, as he touched the clean paper, he said, “I don’t think that at all.” Slowly, he tore off a corner of the clean paper and placed it in the center of the crumpled paper. “You may see all of this when you look at yourself,” he said as he gestured to the crumpled paper. “But when I look at you, all I see is this.” And he gently touched the clean piece he had laid in the center.

Why am I telling this story? Because after that, with Bruce’s unconditional love, I began to rebuild my own thought process about myself. It was a slow process and there were still some major gaps but I was moving forward… until that day in January of 2013 when my world fell apart.

When Bruce passed, I felt like I had been abandoned. I couldn’t understand why God would let this happen. Why did I have to spend so many years with someone who couldn’t love me and only a few short years with someone who loved me beyond all reason? Emotionally, I fell backwards about 10 years in regards to my self-worth and value. I couldn’t seem to believe in my own value anymore… If God didn’t see me as valuable, how could I? My self-esteem fell lower and lower. I couldn’t seem to pick myself up… not alone… not by myself.

Then, I met a wonderful woman who worked with me as a coach (and is still a dear, dear friend). By asking all the right questions (some that were initially infuriating), she helped me realize I had spent most of my life letting other people shape my thoughts about myself. When I was married to Bruce, it was positive shaping, but I was still giving that power to someone else. Until I learned to shape my own thoughts, I would always flounder with my own value… and that is a loss no one has to endure.

I started with an “Intentions” poster that still hangs in my bathroom. On it, I list short, encouraging phrases that build me up or encourage positive action. I, also, learned (and started implementing) the knowledge that just because someone says something, doesn’t make it true. I don’t have to take it in and make it a part of me. Shoot, I don’t even have to respond to it. Instead, I can realize that it is merely a reflection on them and their thought processes. I have the option to let it go… so I do.

There have been other epiphanies along this journey, and I have probably made the most progress in the last 8+ months as I become stronger in the knowledge that I have value. God never abandoned me or wanted me to hurt. He sent Bruce as a blessing… A starting point for my healing. God created me and loves me just as I am… He knows I am not perfect, but that is no surprise to him. He made me that way and loves me anyway. In fact, I am finally learning to love me just as I am, as well… Only this time it is not because someone else says I do or do not deserve it.

Losing Bruce was hard and losing myself in that process made it even harder. However, I know now that I am a whole person just as I am. Bruce always wanted me to know and believe that. Because of him, his love, his patience and his gentle nature, I am finally getting there.

I would have never thought that it would take grief for me to learn to see my own value. But life seems to teach us what we need to know wherever we are on our path.

Thank you, Babe, for always believing in me…

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… We all have those days

Happiness is a daily choice…
Some days I am better at it than others.
~ Linda, January 26, 2015

Let me start by saying, “Yes, I am well aware that last week’s blog sounded like a pity party.” It was! I admit it… I even knew it when I posted it, but I posted it anyway. Why? Because it was real… And because if this blog is an honest look at how I deal with loss (my grief journey), then it needs to include the good and the bad. I have to be honest about those days when I can keep my attitude in check and those days when I don’t.

Yes, I was feeling sorry for myself, but whether you are grieving or not, most of us have days just like that. That is not a phenomenon only relevant to those grieving. We’ve all been there at some point. Therefore, it shouldn’t be hard to empathize when we see someone else going down that road.

Last week, I was very tempted to change the blog entirely and write it as if I had handled the day well, remained positive and had a “life lesson” for the world. I laugh though, because that would have been false. In fact, since it wouldn’t have been genuine, it may have sounded a bit preachy. (Yuck!) But worst of all, if I were not honest, someone else who was having a “feel-sorry-for-myself” kind of day might have felt they were wrong or unusual. That would go directly against what I hope to achieve with this blog… an understanding that feelings are feelings. They are neither right nor wrong. It is what you do with them that makes a difference in your life.

I guess I could be embarrassed about what I felt last week, but I feel that it is something we have all felt at one time or another – loss or no loss. I’m glad I simply put it out there, and I’m thankful for the people who contacted me and said they “got it” – they have had days just like that, too.

This is one way where a grief journey isn’t so different from any other journey. We all have challenges. We all have bumps in the road. Sometimes we can maneuver around them or gently roll over them without a problem, and other times they knock us to the other side of the road. There is no “wrong” on this journey… it is about doing the best you can day to day – moment to moment. Sometimes that isn’t a pretty picture – but it’s real.

After 2+ years of missing Bruce, I wish I had it all figured out. I wish I could say I am okay with my life every moment of every day… but I can’t… because I’m not. Who could? We all have frustrations and no one needs the added pressure of feigning perfection.

So what do you do with a day like that? Here’s a thought… “pity party” days are not healthy or positive, but they are normal. The trick lies in:

1. Recognizing it for what it is. It is a bad moment in time, but it doesn’t have to determine what comes next.

2.Not blaming anyone else for what you are feeling. No one controls your feelings but you. Someone may say or do something that affects you but you get to decide what to do with that.

And

3. Making the choice to get back on your feet and move past it. I know, it’s not as simple as it sounds but it is truly your choice and no one else’s.

Don’t get me wrong, I have days when I get to the end and I am proud of how I have handled my day. But I also have days when I look back and think, “Well, that wasn’t my best… but tomorrow is a new day.” I look at it this way – just the fact that I can recognize when I fall down, is a success… Because once I recognize it, I can start to pull out of it.

My point this week?

No matter what your path, we are not so different. We have more in common than we might care to acknowledge. No one has all the answers and that is more than okay with me. I want to be the best “me” possible – I strive for that. But I find it comforting to know I can learn to accept myself – warts and all. And deep down, I realize I like me… and I’m worth the work.

Furthermore, this week’s blog is not just for people dealing with physical loss. This week’s loss is more about losing your own perspective of yourself and the power within each of us to choose our attitude in each moment of each day.

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… It’s not a competition

Please…
Please don’t judge my grief;
Don’t compare it to someone else’s.
You see what I choose to let you see.
(Except in those moments when it overflows and pours from my soul.)
I may smile.
I may walk with my chin up,
But you do not know what pain is growing on the inside…
consuming my soul.
It may be easy to sit where you do and decide I am fine;
But you would be wrong.
You see what I choose to let you see.
My pain is here; it is real.
I deal with it all day – everyday…
Do not believe the mask I wear.
~ Linda, June 17, 2014

During the first year after Bruce passed, I found myself getting angry at some of the things people said. During the second year, that anger subsided as I learned to think with less emotion and began to realize that people truly meant well… They just didn’t know any better. I know now that most of the words spoken were meant to console or “help me look on the bright side.” Unfortunately, what might be consoling to one person is not necessarily consoling to another. Separating the words from the intent and only responding to the intent has helped me grow and respond with love. What I hope to achieve today is an understanding of why one perception of loss can leave the griever feeling isolated even more.

One of the few statements that will still trigger an emotional (aka – angry) response within me, occurs when someone tries to compare the grief of two different people and thus, two different losses. Please, believe me when I tell you that if you were to ask anyone who is grieving, they would be quick to tell you that this is not a game… And, if it were, they would rather not be participating.

The year Bruce died, was a hard year for our little office. Several people lost family members. We lost husbands, partners, parents and children. About 6 months after Bruce passed, a co-worker went through the horrendous experience of losing her son in a senseless accident. Not only did she live a mother’s worst nightmare by having to make the decision to say “good-by”, but because it was not his fault in any way, she also spent months fighting for him in the judicial system. She is such a brave woman, and I am extremely proud to be her friend.

Since we were both experiencing such deep-felt grief at the same time, we shared a lot… many mornings found us praying for each other and sending words of encouragement back and forth. (I hope she realizes that she is still in my prayers – even today.)

The competition I mention was never between her and me. The competition seems to have been in the minds of some of our co-workers. Ironically, it seemed to be those who had never lost a child or a soul mate (a loss that impacts not just your heart but your day-to-day life).

Almost immediately, people began saying to me, “Well, at least you can remarry and get another husband. She can never replace her son.” Or “Well, at least you don’t hurt as much as she does. The pain of losing a child is so much worse.”

Really? I’ve lost a child and I’ve lost my soul mate… the relationships were different and the pain was different. But I would never say that one is less or more painful than the other. I am aware that these people were trying to help. Their intention may have been to console or to be the “voice of wisdom and positive thought.” I truly believe they meant well, and I appreciate their attempt to help me feel better.

My questions, however, would be…

1. Is there a way to measure grief?
I don’t believe you can measure it. No one knows for sure how or what I (or another person) feels. When we are grieving, we let the world see what we choose to let them see. I would bet most people have no idea that almost 2.5 years later, I still cry at least 2 – 3 times a day… and that’s a minimum. I still wear our wedding rings close to my heart each and every day, and when things get rough and when I sleep, I hold them tightly in my fist. I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around the reality of losing Bruce. I don’t know if I will ever completely accept it.

2. And what do they mean replace Bruce?
One might remarry… Then again, one might also have another child. My point is no matter what else you might do, you can never replace a person. Each person is unique and your relationship with them is unique. They will always be a part of your soul and live deep in your heart. Yes, I am lonely… but it is Bruce that I miss. I don’t want just anyone – I want him. But since that is impossible, I still find myself grieving. I still question why he is gone. I still light a candle for him each morning. I can still remember what it feels like to be in his arms. Craziest of all, I still think of myself as married, and I still think of him as my husband. Honestly, I don’t know if that will ever change.

Here is what I do know…

If your grieving, people will probably say things that are just wrong. Take a breath and remember that they mean well.
If you are trying to comfort someone who is grieving and you don’t know what to say, that’s okay. You need to say anything – just be there. That means so much more than anyone could ever realize.
Finally, please understand that people who are grieving, would rather not be grieving (period). So, if you feel the temptation to compare our grief – to make it seem like a competition – please don’t. It is hurtful and invalidating.
We would beg you, please, don’t compare us… just support us.

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… Celebrating his life…

Blessed

Sometimes I don’t know how to do this.
Sometimes I can’t even breathe.
Then something happens
And I am reminded of how blessed I have been
To have known you at all…
To hold you in my arms,
Even if only for a little while…
That love will carry me through.

~ Linda, February 10, 2015

Aaaand… here I go again. Bruce’s birthday is Monday, April 13 so I have found myself facing another weekend with great significance. Sometimes I feel like there isn’t even time to breathe before the next thing comes along. However, while I find myself tearing up as I reminisce about past birthday weekends, I know that what I want to do is to celebrate his life… a life that changed mine for the better.

With rare exception, we always took the week of Bruce’s birthday off and headed to his folks’ house to celebrate. We would have so much fun just enjoying each other’s company – spending time on the beach, fishing with his dad, playing card games late into the night, “camping out” in the guest house and making all those precious memories that I wouldn’t trade for the world. It was his week and his mom always treated him like a prince – cooking all his favorite foods, including his favorite cake (Texas Sheet Cake). He would just grin from ear to ear the whole time we were there… In fact, saying good-bye was the only negative part of the whole week.

I remember the first year that I joined him there. Bruce and I had only been dating for a few months. Up to that point, I had only met his sisters (who are wonderful), but not his parents. He was so excited to have me come along, but I was TERRIFIED. I was a 40-something year old divorcee with 4 children who lived 1000 miles away from their son… not exactly a parent’s dream mate for their only son. But Bruce kept insisting I was wrong. “They will love you,” he smiled. “They already love you because I love you and I am happier than I have ever been.” I guess he was right because I felt welcomed and loved from the moment I walked through their door. In fact, that love and acceptance has not changed at all across the years… His family became my family and still is. : )

On his birthday weekend in 2011, we signed the final papers and moved into this home. Since we couldn’t go there, his folks came here and helped us move in. It was a ton of work but we had a great time just being together… and Bruce still got to pick every place we ate. : ) Bruce and I were so excited to be here. We had picked this place specifically to fulfill our dream of spending our retirement years enjoying the Florida coast.

We planned to retire when Bruce turned 55 and just spend the rest of our days playing together. We were so excited… We had so many adventures planned… so many places to go… so many things to do. That dream retirement would have started this year on his birthday (tomorrow). That was our plan… that was our dream. But for whatever reason, that dream was taken away without warning one January night…

With our dreams gone, life got real. So in the interest of a blog that is honest about grief, I will too.

That first birthday without Bruce, we held his memorial and scattered his ashes at sunrise. Afterward, we came back home to a brunch of all his favorite foods. In the evening, we went to one of his favorite fishing spots, toasted him with a beer, and let his grandson place a “boat of flowers” into the water to “take a note to Papa in heaven.” Then to end the day, we had dinner at his favorite seafood restaurant in town. It was one of the hardest days ever… but all in all, it felt like the right way to honor him and his life.

The next year (last year), I was alone for his birthday. At the end of the day, I dressed up (just as I would for him) and went out to dinner at that same seafood restaurant to celebrate. Then afterward, I came back home and had a (Jimmy Buffet) Parrot Head party in his honor. In my mind, I danced with him for hours… It was a hard, tear-filled, wonderful night.

This year I would love to say that enough time has passed, so I am spending the weekend remembering the good times and being thankful, happy and content with those… But that would be a lie.

I am happy for the time Bruce and I had together. I love remembering all the good times and precious moments. But I would give absolutely anything to have him back… to have our dreams back… to have my best friend back… to have our life back. I try not to cry, but the tears come anyway – I am just so sad that he is gone and I am here celebrating his birthday alone. (Even as I write this, I am having trouble seeing the screen through the tears.)

This year my plan has been to go to all of his favorite eating spots over the next few days. (I’ve already been to three of them – Friday, Saturday and tonight.) I even bought a little cupcake (okay – it’s actually HUGE) and a bottle of “Birthday” wine to celebrate tomorrow. I also plan to have another Parrot Head dance party just because it feels right.

I guess deep inside, I want him to know he isn’t forgotten. I love him… I will ALWAYS love him. And as long as I have breath in my body, I will celebrate the day the world was blessed by his life.

This week I have only shared my thoughts, feelings and experiences – there is no great wisdom… only the truth. 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… Surviving another holiday…

Things I Never Thought
I never thought I would live without you…
but I do.
I never thought I would spend a holiday alone…
but I have.
I never thought I would celebrate life’s joys alone…
but I will.
I don’t know what I am supposed to learn from all this…
but I keep searching.
There must be something…
I just need to find it
~ Linda, October 1, 2013

As I write this, I am facing another holiday weekend (alone)… ugh. That probably sounds a bit cynical, but I really don’t feel guilty about saying it. It’s honest, and I am sure there are a lot of other people on this path who completely understand. Let me explain.

The first year after Bruce died, I didn’t “do” the holidays. I ignored them, even if it meant escaping somewhere to get away from the world’s excitement. It may sound silly, but I couldn’t face the holidays so I ran away. What made it so hard? Bruce and I had finally adjusted to our own new, “empty nest” traditions. That was a hard transition for both of us… family had always been the center of our holidays and celebrations. When he died so unexpected, I couldn’t handle anything else… I couldn’t rethink new traditions and the old ones didn’t fit anymore, so I gave myself permission to NOT participate… I wasn’t ready.

Last year, I celebrated most of the holidays with my kids or other family. It was hard without Bruce but I managed to smile, and I did find joy somewhere in each one. I say “most” because life happens and there have been a few celebrations that I spent alone, such as Bruce’s and my birthdays, a promotion at work and some smaller holidays. Spending those days alone is hard no matter how much you try to remain positive… even when you understand why you are alone. This holiday weekend is another one that finds me alone… and struggling with my emotions.

I did manage to pull out a couple of Easter decorations for the foyer so if someone peeks inside it at least appears festive. But that is as far as I went… no baskets or eggs. Okay… I admit (with some guilt) to buying a box of Peeps and a bag of Easter corn because they are my favorites. : )

For me, the trick seems to be trying to navigate the world’s excitement while at the same time trying to balance my own emotions and loneliness. I try to tell myself that it’s just a day, but I can’t lie. It’s a harder struggle than I would have ever imagined. I want to be excited, but about what? There is no family around, no traditions to share, no one to laugh with or talk to… the weekend ahead seems more daunting than promising.

I wish with all my heart Bruce was still here beside me, but I know that will never be again… not in this lifetime. I would especially love to talk to my grandmothers. I ache for their wisdom and advice… How did they do this? One of my grandmothers spent over 40 years on her own and the other one outlived her husband by more than 20 years. How did they survive this? Where did they find the strength? Did they hurt like this, too? I would give anything to know… to listen and to learn from them.

I wish I had answers this week but I don’t. However, I would like to share one thing that I will do this holiday weekend. It is my own new tradition that allows me to still include Bruce in every holiday and every celebration. (I did not make this up myself… It is someone else’s idea that I found somewhere, but I love it, I have used it, and I want to share it.)

I use a frame filled with pictures of Bruce and I together and place 6 candles in front of it. Then, I read the following, lighting the candles as I go:

We/I light 6 candles in honor of you.
1. This candle represents our/my grief. The pain of losing you is intense. It is a reminder of the depth of our/my love for you.

2. This candle represents our/my courage – to confront our/my sorrow, to comfort each other and to change our/my lives.

3. This candle is in your memory – the times we laughed, the times we cried, the times we were angry with each other, the silly things we did and the caring and joy you gave us/me.

4. This candle is the light of love. Day by day we/I cherish the special place in our/my hearts that will always be reserved for you. Thank you for the gift your life brought to each of us/me.

5. This candle is the light of hope. It reminds us/me of love and memories of you that are ours/mine forever.

6. This candle is the light of eternity – for the day when we /I will see you again, in all God’s glory. We will be together again. We will have healthy, whole bodies and can explore the wonders of heaven together.

May the light of the Lord be our source of hopefulness now and forever.I love you, Babe… Amen.

This week I have only shared my thoughts and experiences – there is no real insight or direction. Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. I know I would LOVE to hear how others have handled their holidays. 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… How to “get over it”

So Tired

Sometimes I am so tired of thinking;
I keep my thoughts busy to avoid thinking of you.
But that is exhausting…
Will I ever be able to rest;
To just sit … and not spiral down?
I am so tired… so very tired.
~ Linda, March 13, 2015

Do you remember as a kid thinking that when you grew up, you would get to do things your way? No more doing what everyone else told you to do. You would be free! Then what happened? Exactly – you grew up and learned right away that you were wrong… absolutely and completely wrong. Well, grief is like that, too. Before it happens, you think you know what it will be like and how it should be handled. Then… horribly, you learn how very wrong you were. Grief is NOTHING like the world portrays it to be.

When Bruce passed, people were surprised to find me returning to work after 2 weeks. I don’t know if that is strange or not… it was what I needed to do. After 1.5 weeks, I found myself alone and overwhelmed with emotions. I knew enough about myself to know that being alone was not going to be good for me. It was way too quiet. I was sitting at home, staring at the four walls, and all I could think about was Bruce and everything that was now gone. I felt myself spiraling further and further down each day. I knew I needed to be around people. I needed to go back to work. Why work? I needed to go somewhere each day that had not involved Bruce. I needed something in my life that was familiar and not filled with grief – something “normal”… not the “new normal” that everyone kept calling this life without Bruce.

My office is an hour away from our home plus there is very tight security there, so one gets in who doesn’t belong there. That meant, work was a place that held absolutely NO memories of Bruce… he had never been there. I needed that space… at least for a small part of the day. I needed this space that was not filled with grief. Staying busy seemed like a good idea. However, I soon found that I needed to deal with the emotions and grief – I couldn’t ignore them forever. So, I also joined a grief therapy group. I wanted to “get better”… I wanted to “get over it.” You see, I was still under the common assumption, that there are “stages of grief.” Therefore, I just needed to work my way through them and get on with life.

However, there were a few things wrong with this notion. First, those “stages” are actually the stages of dying… while people grieving DO experience a lot of those same emotions, they don’t necessarily fall in any type of order. And many times, they circle back and repeat themselves… over and over. I would find myself thinking I was past a stage only to find myself right back in the same spot weeks later. As I have said before, grief is maddening. It is chaos; there is no rhyme or reason. I soon came to realize that it cannot be handled by a checklist of stages. Since I am a checklist kind of person THAT was hard to accept. Everything I thought I knew about grief was wrong.

Since my experience with grief was not anything like I thought it should be, I began to think there was something wrong with me. Because some of the people around me had the same or similar ideas about grief, they unwittingly reinforced the idea that I must be doing something wrong… why couldn’t I just “close the door on that chapter of my life and move on?”

Thankfully, I also have other people in my life who knew better. They are the reason I am still here… I could not have come this far without them. They were friends. They were co-workers. They were family members… there were even a few strangers in the mix. But more than anything, they were my life-line. They listened. They gave hugs. They held me when I cried, and they were honest about what this grief journey would be like. I needed that… I still do.

I have learned so much about grief in the last two years. In fact, EVERYTHING I thought I knew was wrong. Since it is the purpose of this blog, I’d like to share a little bit of what I have learned.

First and foremost,
1. No two people will have the same experience.
2. Don’t try to compare your grief journey with anyone else’s. (For questions – see #1.)
3. There is no specific amount of time allowed for grief. (For questions – see #1.)
4. Be kind to yourself. Do what you need to do for YOU – not what everyone is telling you to do. (For questions – see #1.)
5. There is no right or wrong way to do this. (For questions – see #1 – 4.)

Despite the intended humor above, I AM trying to make a point. The point is:
No one knows what you need except you. So do THAT… do what you need to do.

I am well aware that there are still people quick to judge and voice an opinion on how I choose to move through this process. For those people, I have to make a choice. I can either:
1. Accept their opinions with a smile (but still ignore it).
2. Make the attempt to help them understand, OR
3. Let them go… This is especially difficult because you are already dealing with loss and who in their right mind would want to deal with more loss? (However, if it reaches unhealthy levels, letting go may be necessary.)

Only you can decide which choice is best… and it will be a different choice with different people.

Once I finally understood all this my question became, “Okay, I am doing all of that… now how much longer? At what point will I get over this? When will this stop?” I hated the answer when I heard it, but deep down I already knew it.

The answer is never… at least not entirely. There is no “getting over it.” That is a terrible myth that creates a lot of unnecessary pain. Try to understand – there is not a switch that can be turned on or off. (Don’t we wish it were that easy?) My understanding from those who are ahead of me on this journey is that as time passes, you learn to live with it… You learn to function around it. It will shape your life in new ways, but ultimately, it will always be a part of who you are.

For a “checklist” person like me, THAT has been a bitter pill to swallow. But experience is teaching me that it is true. I am learning to “dance” with my grief, if you will… to accept what it brings day to day (good or bad) and work through it. I am learning what works well for me and what will pull me down. But the biggest thing I am learning is that I AM moving forward, even if it is baby steps.

This may not be the answer you were looking for when you read the title, but it is the honest answer. There are no empty promises here – only the acceptance of where each person is on this path.

Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences. 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… Be still and know…

My heart struggles to reconcile itself with what my mind knows is real.
~ Linda, October 24, 2013

Last week I said that grief is a maddening experience. It is. It is a time of struggle and emotional chaos as I try to make sense of something that just doesn’t make sense. Everything I thought I knew is gone. I have to relearn how to live. THAT is maddening… THAT is grief.

Each person experiences this differently and has to find their own way… no two are alike. For me, my grief journey ran parallel to my spiritual journey. But since I only have one life… isn’t it all the same? It isn’t like I can travel two paths at once. I learned rather quickly that I am on one path… it is called “life” and it includes many lessons. It is up to me to explore each one and to bring them all together in a way that makes sense for me. This is MY life… this is MY path. This is how I am learning and growing as I work to bring my heart and mind together to create a spirit of peace and love.

From the very beginning, despite my anger and distrust toward God, a certain verse kept running through my mind. This verse has never had any special significance for me in the past, so I have no logical way to explain why it was there… I won’t even try. I simply believe I needed to hear those words in order to survive.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

I wrote them in my journal. I mulled over them in the quiet moments. They were a constant in the back of my mind. And despite my anger, I couldn’t make them go away. There was something there for me – I felt it. I was looking for comfort… something to bring peace to my soul. I came to believe that the secret was somewhere in these words. It was… but probably not in the way most people might think.

It wasn’t about church or religion. It wasn’t about “do’s” and “don’ts.” It was so much deeper than that.

I grew up in the church, directed church choirs, taught Sunday School and even taught in a parochial school for years. God and religion had always a part of my life. However, many years ago, (before Bruce passed away), I chose to walk away from organized religion and seek my own spiritual path to God. It has been a long road. It’s probably no surprise, but Bruce’s death really tried my faith in so many ways that I almost walked away from my faith completely. But his life, his death and the struggles that followed have led me to a faith that I know without a doubt is completely mine. It is not based on what others tell me to think or do. It is not based on rules. It is much more simple. It is merely a philosophy and a way of living my life with God as my source of energy.

I know it may sound crazy. After all, how can spiritual matters be so simple? But I came to this point by watching Bruce and reflecting on how he lived such a genuine life with no pretense… no games.

You would not find Bruce at church on a Sunday morning. Nope… On Sundays, you could find him sitting in his lounge chair with his coffee and his Sudoku watching Meet the Press. But I have never known anyone to live a life more true to the principles of God, acceptance and unconditional love. He was not a complicated man. He had a sweet, gentle spirit and a simple faith. I watched him place a cross in his pocket each morning and heard him pray every night. Then he just lived what he believed – no sermons or lectures, no push for anyone to think his way. He just lived it. To him, it was that simple.

So back to those words that kept going through my head, “Be still and know that I am God.” I kept trying to figure out what I needed to get out of those words. For a long time after Bruce died, I couldn’t even pray… I was too angry. I didn’t want to be still, and I certainly didn’t want to “hear” anything from God. (I wasn’t interested in anything he might have to say.)

One day, though, while reading one of Bruce’s books on philosophy and spiritualism, it hit me. This verse doesn’t say anything about God talking or me listening. It simply says to be still. It was describing meditation – a practice of sitting quietly, breathing deeply and purposely NOT thinking. It is about clearing your mind; not filling it. It is an age old practice of simply being in that specific moment. Then letting your breath carry you to the next moment and then the next.
That was exactly what I needed… to slow down… to be still. As I started a daily practice of meditation, my anxiety lessened and my peace grew. By learning to be still, both physically and mentally, I learned to reconnect to my God. But this time it is different… it is a connection of spirit and peace. It is not about rules or being good enough… those aren’t even concerns. As Wayne Dyer says, it is about the fact that I am “a spiritual being having a physical experience; not a physical being having a spiritual experience.”

Through those quiet, still moments, I have learned to let go of my anger. I am learning to trust God again. I believe that he is my Source, and this life as we see it, is not all there is. There is more… so much more.

Do I believe everyone thinks this way? Of course not.

Do I think they should? That’s not my call… it is up to each person how they choose to think and live.

However, if you are struggling with grief or loss, meditation may be a simple way to regain a part of your life. It has nothing to do with religion… These practices are a physical exercise like running or walking.

So how will it help? Meditation and deep breathing have been proven scientifically to reduce anxiety and stress. People use it everyday, including performers, therapists, etc. In fact, one of the big quotes making the rounds today is “Just breathe.” Why? Because it is true… it works.

When we suffer the loss of anything important or significant in our lives, (even when we know logically it may be for the best), our anxiety goes up. Physically, it means our blood pressure goes up, our adrenaline goes up and the flow of blood to our brain goes down. Our ability to focus and think rationally decreases. Does this happen to everyone? In varying degrees, the answer appears to be yes.

For me, meditation has been invaluable. It has helped me to regain peace, focus and composure, even on those “bad” days when the grief is more than I think I can bear. All I need to do is breathe… meditate… and just let go.

I have learned to be still and know…

Peace…

This is my story but this is our community… the place to share our experiences. To share your story or thoughts, 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