loss – Page 5 – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – The Silence

When Bruce and I were married, he started every, single day the same way… a cup of joe, the current spiritual book of choice, and silence. From the beginning, he established that this time in the morning… This silent morning contemplation was how he grounded himself before starting his day. He wasn’t rude or demanding… It just was.

Then he died… And silence seemed to take over my world…

The Silence…
Without you, this house is so quiet,
It is deafening.
Even the thoughts in my own head
Can’t drown out the quiet.
It is always here –
Waiting to swallow my sanity.
~ Linda, November 2013

I remember… I was just starting out on this journey, and the silence really was almost deafening at times. I dreaded leaving the house because it was our space and I could feel him there. At the same time, I hated coming home because the silence was overwhelming.

I even found myself leaving the TV or radio on all the time, (even while I slept), to avoid the silence and feel just a little less alone.

I can’t tell you how hard the silence was on my soul… The silence left me with nothing but my own thoughts and that scared me… My thoughts were dark, and I could easily fall deeper and deeper into the muck.

It felt kind of crazy… After all, when the kids were little, I would relish even five minutes of silence, but that was different. That silence was a respite from the chaos of life. This new silence was not a respite… All it seemed to do was to increase my grief… as if that was even possible.

After a couple of years, one of my daughters and my grandson moved in with me for several years. Suddenly, the house was filled with the sounds of family and love… little boys and laughter… Those years were good for us, and I will always cherish those memories. Once again, silence was a rarity, and honestly, it was easily avoided most of the time.

After they moved out to build their own home, though, I began to find that the silence was a necessary part of my journey. It had taken years, but I was finally able to sit in the silence and process my grief and residual thoughts and emotions. It didn’t take long before I found that my day was much better when I started it in silence… In fact, I even found myself looking forward to the hour of quiet meditation and journaling each morning.

The week I spent at the spiritual retreat a couple of weeks ago, was built on the rhythmic practice of silence and contemplation. Approximately 16 hours a day was spent in silence… And I was in heaven. For me, the silence has become the anchor of my day, and 16 hours of it, left me feeling emotionally and spiritually stronger than I have in a long time.

Now, the silence no longer feels oppressive… Instead, it actually feels freeing. It is no longer a space where I feel lost, but instead, a space where I feel connected – to the Divine… and to Bruce… It is the space where I get to reconnect with my own soul and tune into “the song that is mine to sing”. It is the space where I meet myself again and again – each and every day.

At the time, I didn’t realize just how much Bruce’s spiritual practices were setting up camp in my soul, but I am so thankful they did… I had no idea just how much I would need these same practices to simply “be still and know” and to heal my soul…

Silence…
I come into the silence.
Here I find Presence;
Yet, everything is absent.
Here my heart is full;
Yet, this space is empty.
How is it possible to find everything my soul needs
In a space that holds nothing?
Yet, here is where I know
I am not alone.
~ Linda, May 2025

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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – The Space Between

I spent this past week on a spiritual retreat on St. Simon’s Island, GA. The grounds, which lay alongside the Frederica River, are covered in massive oaks dripping with Spanish moss, much like the Low Country of SC where I spent most of my childhood. There is something here that simply soothes my soul whenever I enter the grounds.

The week was spent learning about Christian mindfulness and using poems and the Psalms as prayers and self-expression. The majority of time was spent in silent reflection and contemplation, which was the balm I have needed given the chaos that has seemed to invade the landscape of our lives lately.

The afternoon conversations were centered around the idea that life constantly cycles through the phases of Orientation (what is “normal”), Dis-orientation (a large, usually traumatic event that disrupts everything we think we know), and New-orientation (the adjustment to the change which eventually becomes ‘Orientation’) … and the cycle begins again. It is also important to understand and accept that this ‘New-orientation’ is not like the original for we can never go back to “what was” … We can only adjust to “what is”.

As a “list person” who craves order, it was comforting to put so many of the events of my adulthood into some type of framework that makes sense in my mind. While there have been other ‘Dis-orientations’ over the years since Bruce passed, that single event still seems to be the one that has affected my life the most… The one that still seems to be on-going… The one where the ‘New-orientation’ hasn’t quite landed or settled within my soul yet.

I wrote the following sitting in the cool shade of one of those massive oaks, watching the river flow past and wondering how to adjust and become comfortable with my ‘New-orientation’ so life can move to a place of tranquil ‘Orientation’, and my soul can perhaps rest for a while…

The Space Between ‘No Longer’ and ‘Not Yet’

Grief is an odd space to hold.
My feet feel stuck,
As if I cannot move forward
No matter how much I will them to move.

I am stuck between ‘no longer’ and ‘not yet’.

I long for his friendship,
His love,
His arms,
His touch.

I also long for a future
That is fun and
Bright and
Filled with hope.

I am stuck between ‘no longer’ and ‘not yet’.

Most days, I feel hopeful.
I laugh and know happiness.
I spend time with friends and feel contentment.
I do the things before me and find joy in each of them.

Yet, most days, I find myself stuck between ‘no longer’ and ‘not yet’.

I’m not sure what to do.
The longing for what is ‘no longer’
Can feel indeterminately overwhelming.
Yet, the desire for what is ‘not yet’
Also pulls at my soul.

Perhaps, it is okay to ‘not do’;
Perhaps in the ‘not doing’,
I am doing exactly what is needed.
Perhaps, learning to sit quietly
With those opposing thoughts and feelings
Is actually where life starts again.

~ Linda, May 2025

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 – And on It Goes

Last week, I wrote about happiness… I think sometimes the Universe hears us and says, “You like that? Watch this!” Then, things happen that validate our own thoughts and make us smile… And that is exactly what happened for me…

I was at church last weekend and saw on that program that someone was singing “Bare Necessities”. I chuckled to myself thinking, “Well, that’s a first for me (at church, anyway).”

As the service progressed with the theme of healing and how much our attitudes and thoughts play into our healing – physical, emotional, and spiritual, I began to see where that song could fit, despite my negative, “churchy” attitude. (I hate it when I let old religious, self-righteousness jump in rather than being open to what the Divine is offering in the moment.)

As the gentleman got up to sing, joy – pure joy – filled my soul… my “happiness tank” was over-flowing. Not only did this man do an amazing job, but you see, Disney’s Jungle Book, was Bruce’s favorite Disney movie. In fact, truth be told, Bruce was simply a big Baloo, himself… He lived in the present. He lived simply. He didn’t anger easily or often. He never seemed to panic and could see the good in almost every situation.

As I sat there, memories… sweet, precious memories, of this wonderful man I love and how he chose to live his life, filled my heart and showed on my face. According to him, the sentiments in this song were how he had healed himself when he was younger and dealing with feelings of rejection and abandonment.

He used to tell me stories of how he had struggled with his emotions. However, after some time spent in self-reflection, (and a little help from his sister), he had learned a different way to “be” – a more spiritual, “let it be – let them be” attitude.

I think that was one of the greatest things he taught… no – showed me when he was here… The gift of trusting the Divine and seeing the Christ in all things and people.

So… as I sat there listening to that seemingly silly song, I realized, once again, that not only is being happy okay, but Bruce would also never want me to feel anything less – especially when I am thinking of him.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. 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 – Happiness

Peace, love, grief… and happiness? Wait… What?? That can’t be right… How do those things even exist in the same universe?

I felt that way for such a long time… Twelve years ago, I didn’t think I would ever feel happy again. How could I?? The one person on this planet that made me feel happy, even when the world was falling apart was gone… Not just gone for a little while, but gone… as in forever… as in, I will never see him smile or hear him laugh again… I will never know his tender touch or feel the comfort of his presence. Without that, how could I ever be happy again?

The answer (in my mind) – I couldn’t. I felt that I was bound to live out the rest of my days in sadness… And I did that for a very long time.

Then, one day when I wasn’t expecting it, I found myself smiling at something. I can’t even remember what it was that made me smile. I can remember the instant guilt I felt for feeling happy, even for a moment, when Bruce was gone and would never share those feelings with me again.

That battle lasted for quite a while – feeling happy in a moment and then instant guilt for feeling that way. I can’t say exactly when the tide started to turn, but I do know that the first piece of that puzzle to dissipate was the guilt… Somehow it seemed to switch to a deep feeling of sadness – all for the same reasons, but sadness for those reasons vs guilt for my happiness in that moment.

As the years have passed, those moments of happiness have occurred more often, and those happy feelings are more and more abundant and lasting. The sadness though, is still there, … even if it is only in the background.

I have learned that life isn’t life without all of the emotions that are in our repertoire. It is good and healthy to feel all the things… and to learn to manage all the things.

Now a days, I feel happy quite often. When I am struggling with sadness or depression, I make myself look for the good… That seems to be the only way back out of the darkness. And when I start seeing the good again, happiness isn’t far behind. (Thank heavens!)

I will admit, when something good happens, when I am happy or laughing, more than anything I still find myself thinking how much Bruce would love it too – or not (which makes me laugh even harder, to be honest). Sure, in that moment, I find myself feeling those twinges of sadness that he isn’t here to share in the joy, but then I find myself thinking that perhaps he is…

Maybe it is a way to comfort myself or maybe it is real, but I continue to feel his energy around me, so maybe… just maybe… he is here sharing in the happiness of the moment… or maybe he is just happy that I have learned to be happy again…

And that, I believe, might be one of the true miracles that love offers us – even when we grieve.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. 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 – Sometimes

A couple of my kids and I spent a long Easter weekend in Michigan with Bruce’s family… also (now) my family, as they are constantly reminding me. It makes me smile… Both to hear them affirm that their love for me is about me and them and didn’t disappear when Bruce died… and also to feel the warmth of that love up close and personal. I always leave there feeling immensely grateful of each of them and the richness they add to my existence.

When Bruce died, I was terrified of losing that space in their lives. In the few short years I had known them, my love for them and the bonds between us had grown organically. So, when Bruce died, I was terrified of losing that. Everything I read said to expect that for several reasons. The two I remember are:

1. I would be a reminder of what they had lost and maintaining a relationship might be too hard for them.
or
2. The relationship was really centered around the person we had all lost, and without him, there wasn’t really a relationship.

Thankfully, none of that proved to be true. At that time, though, I wasn’t sure. My world had been tossed upside down. I had no idea what to expect.

I felt so alone… so abandoned, to be honest. (Probably a silly way to phrase it but was exactly how I felt.) To trust the depth of our relationship and rest comfortably within it did not come easily, and I struggled with that for years.

This year, though, we were able to be together for the Easter holiday, which brought so many thoughts and emotions to my mind…

Easter is supposed to be about hope and joy… the ongoing love and life that our faith calls us to live. Bruce, who was not “churchy” by any means, was extremely spiritual and lived this day in and day out. In fact, it was because of his influence, I was finally able to explore my own faith… Minimally while he was alive, and fully after his death.

Over the past several years, through this faith journey, I have come to think that maybe… just maybe… Bruce was meant to start me on this journey, due to my own feelings of inadequacy. However, the work of the journey had to be mine. Otherwise, I might never have found my way… Instead, it might have just been another example of following someone else’s path rather than my own.

This, then, has led me to realize just how much I actually absorbed from simply watching him live what he believed while he was alive. I can honestly say that he lived the most Christ-like life I have ever encountered – and that includes preachers, priests, nuns, etc. Why? After all, he didn’t preach. In fact, he didn’t use words at all when it came to how he lived his life. He didn’t need to… His faith wasn’t based on dogma. It was based on transformative live… And he simply lived that – each and every day.

All of these thoughts hit me this past weekend, as the Christian world celebrated the Easter season, followed immediately by the death of another person who lived his faith – Pope Francis. While I’m not Catholic anymore, I had great respect for this man who called for the world to stop judging and excluding and to simply love others. That was the same message Bruce lived… The same message I am trying to live, (although, I know I still stumble a lot).

On our flight home, a quote I read lately popped into my mind that kind of wraps it all up…

“Sometimes ‘I love you’ means ‘I’m setting you free’.” ~ r. h. Sin, The Year of Letting Go, May 25

Bruce loved me. I know that. I still (to this day) feel his love all around me. Do I think he wanted to die? No. Do I really think he simply abandoned me? No. Was he “setting me free” to finish this journey he had helped me start? … Perhaps.

Maybe it was simply his time to go… Whatever he was called to do on this earth was done… And perhaps, I was a part of what he needed to do – to set me on the path to healing and living my own faith.
I think I will always believe and hold onto that… Not that he had to die for me to find my faith… But instead, when he died, I would have what I needed to continue my own journey… And all because he had quietly lived his own.

So, this Easter season has truly been one of joy and hope for me… Mostly because of Bruce and how he loved me… my kids… and both of our families – no judgements and no holding back – just pure unconditional love and acceptance… And what could possibly give a person more joy and hope than experiencing something like that?
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. 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 – Maybe It’s in the Mud

I apologize for being MIA last week… It’s been a rough few weeks, and last weekend was Bruce’s birthday… While I had a lot of feelings, they weren’t great, and I wasn’t in a good space… I was trying so hard to be okay, but honestly, I’ve had a lot to process.

For me, it was triggered a couple of weeks ago, when a couple of people brought some things to my attention. Mainly, that I am not the person I thought I am… Instead, I am the very person I have spent my life trying not to be… which then brings to question every relationship and interaction I have ever had.

One of the biggest points of doubt has been my relationship with Bruce. Did he see me as these others say they see me? Did I let him down too? Was he relieved to be done with me? … Suddenly, I find myself questioning everything in my life – what is real? What isn’t? And how do I learn to live with this perspective of me? How do I turn it around?

I don’t know… I have talked to my therapist and a couple of friends. Honestly, I am too horrified at what has been said to share it with very many… At the same time, without honest feedback from good friends and professionals, how do I even start to process any of this.

I think some of the most helpful thoughts came from my therapist who suggested that maybe the issue was one of missing someone’s love language… Maybe what I am doing (and thinking it is loving) is not received that way because it isn’t what they need from me… Maybe? At least that gives me a starting point, I suppose.

What I really wish I could do is ask Bruce. He was always such a source of rational thought and insight. I would love to ask him. I would give anything for just a little bit of his wisdom and truth. Then, of course, his birthday hit, and it felt like a much bigger wall to scale than normal. Sometimes, I can almost feel him, but this last weekend when I needed him, the world felt so silent… like finding yourself in a place where you know you don’t belong.

I found myself asking… no begging… for him to send me some kind of answer… some kind of suggestion to help me find my way. What came back first was a quote about the lotus… Something about us being like the lotus – we can rise out of the mud and bloom… Can I? I definitely feel like I am deep in the mud. Only I feel like I am sinking – not blooming.

Then a few days later, I came across this one,

“The secret to a beautiful life is not just in an ancient tree or a star-filled sky. It is in the leaves and the mud and the rain. In you and me and in the bustling city I left far behind.” ~ James Norbury, The Cat Who Taught Zen

This hit home with me… When we can see how everything – even the rain and mud are necessary for beauty, love, and “goodness” to grow within each of us, maybe we can learn to look at each of these things with fresh eyes instead of reacting out of the immediate emotions we feel… Maybe?

I found myself trying to think about Bruce and the way he approached life – even when life was hard. Sure, he had his down times… I saw him shed a tear or two when life threw a curveball that hurt. I don’t think the point is that we won’t or shouldn’t feel the painful emotions. Of course, we will. The Divine gave us a variety of emotions so that we can feel them all… But, I think, maybe it is what we do with those emotions that makes the difference… that determines if we are sinking or blooming in the mud.

My faith teaches that our thoughts create our experience… While there are different ways to interpret that, for me, it isn’t some “woowoo” idea that I can control events with my thoughts. Instead, it is about my attitude. It is about how I choose to view and experience what is happening around me. That doesn’t mean I am in denial about what is happening, but more about what I choose to focus on in that situation.

I think this is why the “love language” piece feels hopeful. It changes the focus from “I’m a terrible person” and moves it to “I am a person, who has hurt another… and I want to change that. And, just as I choose to believe that most of us don’t intentionally mean to hurt others, it happens… Sometimes the leaves and mud and rain are within us… We are that difficult source – for others… and ourselves.

I am still at a point of figuring things out… Of trying to find a way to not only how make things right, but also how to change my approach to relationships – paying more attention to what someone might need vs what I feel inclined to give… To have the hard conversations and ask the questions that might return answers I fear but need to know.

If I muster the courage and do this… Maybe… just maybe… in a week, a month or a year from now, I will be able to find myself blooming in the mud… And while I will always believe it was Bruce and the Divine… and my friends… and my therapist (LOL) who are helping me figure all this out, I also know that it is me who has to do the hard work to move that dial… It is me, and only me, who can control what I focus on – despair at what was or hope for what can be… I am choosing to focus on the hope…
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where wtryine are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

This is a weekly blog, for daily affirmations we have a Facebook page of the same name. Join us daily at www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief
* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love, and Grief – No Need to Apologize

Most of my adult life, I have been that person who would apologize for anything and everything. It was the example set before me in my childhood home, and one I carried with me into my first marriage. No matter what it was, if my first husband was upset or disappointed about something, I would apologize – even if I had zero involvement or control… Rain on a day he wanted to do something outside? I’m sorry. Bad service as a restaurant? I’m sorry. Bad traffic or long line at the drive-through? I’m sorry.

Eventually, because I found myself apologizing several times a day for things like this, it likely made any true apologies feel just as rote as these given out of fear. I can’t even say if it was based on habit or truly trying to console him at a time when his temper could/would flair. However, I do know that by the time we divorced, and I met Bruce, it was a habit… Perhaps a habit born out of fear or desperation, but a habit none-the-less.

Early on, Bruce pointed this out and worked hard to help me break that habit… mostly by creating an extremely safe space where I didn’t have to feel responsible for his happiness and where it was not just safe to express myself – it was encouraged.

My trust in Bruce and in our relationship did change – I learned to trust that it was okay for both of us to express ourselves without the other being responsible for those feelings. Admittedly, though, there were other relationships where this did not change… at least not right away.

Some of those relationships have changed over time, especially in the last two years and with lots of encouragement on their part. Other relationships have been lost – either because they tired of my apologies based on my own insecurities or because I have finally stopped apologizing for anything and everything, and, I suppose, they preferred me the old way.

Either way, I have rejoiced in those relationships that have blossomed, and I have grieved those I have lost… Which is my point today, I suppose… The grief of lost relationships when the other person is alive and well… Things simply didn’t work out. Both of us may have tried to figure it out and make it work, but somehow, we just couldn’t.

I can’t speak for them, but there is a sadness there that persists whenever I call them to mind… a definite hole in my heart that only fits them. Yet, I know I can’t go back to what was. It wasn’t healthy for either of us. Plus, the decision to move forward in the relationship depends on both of us having that mutual desire. So… THOSE relationships I grieve… I shed tears for what was and what could have been.

“Never apologize for crying over something that once made you believe in a future filled with love.” ~ r.h. Sin, The Year of Letting Go

At the same time, I know that learning to release that relationship is what is mandatory in this moment… Maybe there is hope for later, but not in this moment. However, releasing isn’t easy, is it? I don’t think so… Even when you know it is the right thing to do, it is still hard… It is still heart-breaking. So, I have found myself thinking back to Bruce and what I learned in that relationship that I can pull out of my hat now to help me past this newest challenge, and I came up with this…

One of the most important parts of a relationship, and the part that Bruce and I got right, is being with someone who is willing to match your effort in the relationship. Sometimes that means you are both “all in” all the time, and other times it might mean that one of you is carrying more of the load. However, that doesn’t mean that the same person is always carrying that load… That is unhealthy. Whereas, if it is a back-and-forth kind of thing, that is normal.

When I was apologizing all the time, I thought I was doing the right thing by carrying that load, and in some relationships, like my first marriage, I probably was. (Although, it was more about survival than relationship.) However, when the other person was willing and able to carry their fair share, my constant apologies (that had no need) more than likely tore us apart by leaving them out of certain aspects of the relationship, in a way. So, after a while they quit… and I guess, I don’t blame them.

Relationships are wonderful, and relationships are challenging. Sometimes, they just aren’t right, no matter how much you may want them to be. You may put tons of energy into them, but to no avail… and I think it is normal to grieve those, even as you release them. Other times, like my relationship with Bruce, you simply fit together from the very beginning, like two perfect pieces of a puzzle… which is probably why, even after all these years, I still grieve for him… and us.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. 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 Messy

When my kids were growing up and said, “That’s not fair”, I used to answer, “Life’s not fair. I’m sorry, but it’s not.” … And it isn’t. It doesn’t matter if you play by the rules or not. It doesn’t matter if you do all the right things or not. It doesn’t matter if how you play the game, there will be times when life feels unfair. I hate that. I wish I could make it otherwise, but it is what it is.

Losing someone you love is just another reminder of that. It doesn’t matter if you are a “good” person or not. It doesn’t matter if you love with all your heart or not. It just doesn’t matter. Life goes on and does what it does.

As I have said before, I am most definitely a “list person”. I love my lists. I have lists of what I need to do each day, projects I want (or need) to tackle, bills I need to pay, people I need to contact, my weekly grocery list, books I want to read, possible topics for this blog, a basic packing list, and on and on. My list of lists is ever growing, and it’s crazy… I know. At the same time, it is what keeps me organized, so I am less likely to forget or miss something. It is as much a part of me as my brown eyes or curly hair.

When Bruce died, I wanted a list… A list of things to do that would make all this hurt stop… A list of things I could do make this whole thing go away so I could go on living my life without all this pain and grief. I didn’t take long to realize that no such list exists. Sometimes, life hurts. Sometimes, life isn’t fair. In fact, I could go a step further and say I learned that life is not a list… No matter how much I want it to be that simple, it isn’t. Life is not a list. Life is messy and complicated and unpredictable.

Lately, life has felt a little harder… a little messier… a lot less predictable… And that is hard for me. Learning to sit and wait patiently for what life is offering has never been something I excel at. I want to know all the things… Where life is headed… Where I am going next… Where is the next turn in the road…

Losing Bruce was a turn in the road that I never saw coming. It took years to accept it. In fact, I can honestly say that it is something I am still working on coming to terms with. I want to do whatever is mine to do next… but what is that? What I wouldn’t give for a list… a list of whatever is mine to do as I look ahead.

The whole thing leaves me feeling lost.

This week I heard a term – progressive unfoldment… The idea of waiting to see what life will unfold in front of me next – like a flower bud waiting to open. Things will happen in their own time, and nothing I do, (no list I work through), will make one bit of difference. Life will happen on its own terms and in its own time.

Growing up in the Christian faith, I was told that God would light the path in front of me just enough for the next step. As a kid growing up in the middle of nowhere and used to spending hours walking through the woods on my own, I pictured a small lantern lighting my way in a forest. I could almost feel the warmth of the lantern and the heaviness of the darkness outside the small puddle of light. I understood that feeling of peering into that darkness – unable to see anything in the pitch darkness. Yet, I took comfort in that little bit of light that I could imagine God holding out for me.

As an adult, that image holds way more questions than comfort. That light feels a lot smaller, and the path is a lot scarier. Somedays, that lantern doesn’t seem to be giving off any light all. Some days, I have to talk myself into taking that next step into the darkness… A darkness that holds who knows what.

This is why I like a list… A list takes all the questions away… Here is what I should do, and I do it. Here is how life should flow, and it does… only it doesn’t, does it?

Instead, I can almost hear the universe saying to me, “Life is unfair… but it is also a beautiful, amazing adventure. You will miss out on so much of that if you only want the “safe” route. There is so much more out there waiting for you, if you will only take that next step.”

So… here I sit… scared but willing… trying to let go of my need for a “safe” list of things to make life run smoother – with less pain and grief… Willing to embrace the idea that the Divine has my best in mind, if I will only release my fears and patiently wait for life to simply show me what is next.

That isn’t an easy concept for me. Yet, I think that if I want to live my life to its fullest, I need to embrace the idea of a progressive unfoldment… The idea that life is going to happen with or without me… I can’t control any of it. There is no list that will give me that control. And it isn’t about life being fair or unfair – not at all.

Instead, it is a knowing that I need to let go and trust. It is a knowing that my next step in life is not dependent on a list of things to do, but rather it is about paying attention and trusting that what is next to do may not always be up to me at all. Instead, it is dependent on what life offers me – nothing more… nothing less… Because in the end, life is not a list – life is messy… and beautiful.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. 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 – Transformation

According to the dictionary, transformation is the operation of changing from one form or expression into another.

If you think about it, we are all transformed beings… Not one of us is the same exact person we were 10 years ago, one year ago, or even one month ago. In a simple, physical sense, our cells are constantly in the process of regenerating themselves. Not a single cell from the day you were born is still in your body… At some point, they are all replaced – over and over. So, in that sense, we have been transformed.

There is also the fact that by simply living life – talking, listening, and interacting with the world brings on new experiences, ideas, and knowledge. Whether we agree with those things or not doesn’t matter. We can’t unhear or un-experience something. Instead, we might ponder it or argue about it or use it to support what we already thought, but either way, it becomes a permanent part of our inner self… which means something has changed.

Those are the “normal” ways that life helps us to grow and transform, but it isn’t the only way… Sometimes, things happen in life that create an immediate and massive transformation – one that creates a totally new creature with barely any resemblance to the previous one that inhabited our body.

It is like the butterfly in a cocoon. As a caterpillar, it was fine – munching on leaves and living its life. Then, on cue, it goes into a cocoon. It looks like a peaceful space on the outside, but on the inside, oh my, there is some messy chaos happening in there! That little caterpillar is practically liquified and then rebuilt into something completely different… Something the world looks at in awe and wonder… Something we believe is a work of beauty. For me, knowing the full story of how it got there makes that butterfly even more miraculous.

All of this got me thinking this week about how traumatic that must be for the caterpillar/butterfly to experience… how scary. Of course, then, that led me to realize just how similar it is to grief.

Like the caterpillar, we are just going along, living our lives – content and unaware of what lies ahead. Suddenly, though that life was gone… And I don’t know about you, but I completely fell apart. I became like that gooey mess in the cocoon… On the outside, people may have thought I was doing fine (all things considered), but on the inside I was a hot mess.

For years, I was stuck in that muck, trying to go back to what I was… Who I was. However, That wasn’t possible. As crazy as it sounds, it has taken me a long time to realize I can never go back to that woman I was before Bruce died. For year though, that is exactly what I wanted… I simply wanted to go back to that person I had been. My world, though, was so different – I was so different. I wanted (so badly) to live that life that had been – not this new one that I knew nothing about… Not this new one that didn’t include Bruce… Not this new one that forced me into growth and changes I hadn’t asked for and definitely didn’t want any part of.

But that’s where I was… Where I am. Like the caterpillar, there is no going back. I can’t unlive the trauma of that night or the days and years after. Those experiences forced me into a state of chaos that I didn’t think I would survive… But I have… And like you, I know that loss can be one of the most traumatic events a person can experience… And the fact that it is traumatic is exactly why the change is so absolutely complete and life altering.

So, now what?

Well, that depends. I know that I have a choice to make. I can either keep fighting what I cannot change, accept what is but refuse to see anything positive in my new circumstances, or I can be understandably sad about what I lost while still celebrating who I have become through this process.

I am not the same person… I am stronger. I am wiser. I have learned that I will make mistakes, but getting back up and trying again is where my strength lies. I don’t have all the answers – I’m still learning. I know I will have hard days, yet I also know that I will have days where I can bring joy into the world… I can do all these things and be all these things – one does not contradict the other… And just like the butterfly, I can pause and take a breath as I emerge from the chaos, as long as I continue to spread my wings and fly.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone… None of us are… We have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone.
Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. 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 – Some Lessons Are Still a Struggle

Usually, (when nothing too crazy is happening), I pick a topic early in the week and work through it in my mind before I ever start writing – not always, but usually. Even this week, I thought I knew early in the week what I wanted to dive into today. However, I quickly found that I needed to work through something completely different – something I did not see coming.

As I mentioned the other day, I have found myself (emotionally) back at square one lately on this grief journey. While I know what triggered all of this, I have been trying to figure out what the lesson might be… What did I miss the first time that I need to figure out this time? And, of course, the Universe seems to be more than willing to help me find that answer… or at least another piece of it…

Each quarter at work, we are assigned several mandatory OSHA training courses to complete. No problem. While everyone says they are the same, or almost the same, each year, I am just coming up on my one-year anniversary, so they are all new to me.

I finished the first one on Monday morning in about 30 minutes. First thing on Wednesday morning, I opened the second one while I was simultaneously setting up my word document for taking notes. I hadn’t paid any attention to the topic title until I went to add it to my document… CPR…

“Oh, please, no,” I thought. “I can’t… Not now… Not today… Not while I am struggling with this ridiculous wave of grief and funk.”

Suddenly, my mind took me back to that night over 12 years ago…

I woke up to the sounds of Bruce having a bad dream – or so I thought. I nudged him and whispered, “Babe, you’re having a bad dream. Wake up.”

No response, but the sounds continued. I nudged him again – a little bit harder and spoke a little bit louder, “Babe. Wake up. You’re dreaming.”

Again – no response.

At that point, I was awake enough to realize that something wasn’t right. Quickly, I reached over him, turned on the lamp, and saw his face. It was grayish and he seemed to be struggling to breathe.

I hesitated for ½ a second, worried that I might be overreacting, before dialing 911, and letting the operator there guide me through the rhythm of CPR. Truthfully, I was certified and had been for years. However, in the stress and shock of the moment, I needed that calm voice to walk me through it.

EMS arrived soon after and took over. However, as I am sure you already know, they could not revive him… Bruce never woke up that night. He died… right there in my arms…

After the autopsy, the Medical Examiner told to me that I am actually “too small” to do CPR on an adult. He also went on to explain that CPR performed by a non-medical person only seems to be effective less than 50% of the time. However, it’s the other 50% that makes it worth trying.

At the time, all I could think about was that I had failed him. Bruce had never let me down, but I had failed him in the worst way… and that was something I struggled to forgive myself for for years. I was so utterly angry and disgusted with myself that I have never sought to be recertified in CPR since that day. Why bother? Why hadn’t anyone ever explained the reality of my even attempting CPR? It was all too much… No, thank you, I can’t do that again.

In fact, it was only about a year or so ago that I finally reprocessed that night in therapy using EMDR and have felt some peace about my efforts that night. I have learned to accept the reality that I did all I could – even the profession EMS responders couldn’t revive him. We all tried. We all gave it our best… Sometimes, though, despite our best efforts, things don’t work out the way we think they should.

Despite knowing all of that, when I opened that course and stared at the title, everything in me froze. I didn’t want to take the course… but I had no choice. Should I close it and put it off for another day? No… I would just be dreading it until it was behind me. So, I pressed on, and clicked “Start Course”.

Maybe the Divine (or the Universe or whatever word you prefer) heard my despair in that moment… I don’t know… However, this course, like all the others, started with a pre-test. If one can pass the pre-test with 80% or better, the course is considered “complete”, and no other work is needed. (Let me interject here that I have never passed one of these pretests.)

So… I opened the pretest… Five questions… I could miss one… “Please, God… Please… I don’t think I can take this course and be fit for anything else today. Please, give me wisdom… The last time I was certified was over 12 years ago. Please, let me remember.”

Question one… I got it right. (Thank you, God.)

Question two… I got it right. (Oh my gosh… please, don’t quit on me.)

Question three… I got it… WRONG. (No… Please, no… Please, give me courage… I can’t miss another one.)

Question four… I changed my answer twice – something I always tell my learners not to do. As I hit Submit, I could hear my own voice telling them, “Go with your gut… you know more than you think you know.” … I got it right. (Phew!!! One more… just one more.)

I took another deep breath. “Think, Linda, calm down and think.”

Question five… I sat there for probably 20 minutes before I could convince myself to hit Submit… Oh my gosh!! I got it right… I got it right! I couldn’t believe it. Tears of relief streamed down my face. I did it, and it was over. I would not have to battle my way through the whole course.

I was still quite shaken up, so I put myself in “do not disturb” mode and just let all the tears and emotions flow as I tried to move on with work. I don’t know why this got to me the way it did. I don’t know why my reaction was filled with so much panic. After all, I have worked through this. I should have been okay. It should have been no big deal – just another course to get through… But it wasn’t just another course, and it was a big deal.

Even now, I can’t articulate the effect this had on the rest of my week. Every time I think about it, that panicky feeling builds up and the tears start falling. I think it is crazy that I thought I was doing okay with this… And maybe I am… when I have the time to prep myself for encounters such as this.

Yet, when it is unexpected… when I don’t have the time to prepare emotionally for things like this, I need to be just as aware that I may still respond in a way that is reminiscent of those early days and years. Maybe I need to know that some things will always be a trigger, and that’s just how it is. Maybe it sets me back for a day or two… And maybe it gives me another chance to work through some residual feelings surrounding that night.

What I do know is this… Even the smallest steps are better than no steps, so I am still making progress… And maybe my lesson this time around is that, maybe… just maybe… I need to learn how to live with this memory without letting it dictate my life… To remember that I tried my best; there were other factors that made CPR impossible – and I had no control over any of those… and, finally…

“In every ending, there’s a new beginning hidden behind all of the sadness and regret. It’s your job to uncover it.” ~ r.h. Sin, The Year of Letting Go, March 24
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you. 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