Peace, Love & Grief – Page 8 – There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered

Peace, Love, and Grief… My Heroes

I am well aware that I spend a lot of time talking about the challenges of grief and being a widow. I am sure it can come across as “poor me”, but that really isn’t my mindset.

Sure… Being a widow sucks… Losing Bruce sucks… I have my hard days/moments when I hate this whole thing and can feel pretty sorry for myself. You see, there are definite scenarios that most people who grieve have (or will) encounter… and some are not so good. I write a lot about these… Not to go on a pity rant, but to share my experiences week to week in an attempt to help anyone in the same boat know that their own experiences/thoughts/feelings are all “normal”. (As if anything about grief is “normal”.)

Personally, I remember when I started on this journey, I needed to hear other people’s stories, in order to make sense of my own. That is why I write this. So, I hope that makes sense.

That being said, today I want to talk about something a little bit different… I want to talk about the many heroes I have encountered on this journey… If nothing else, it can serve as a reminder to look for the positives, right?

There were heroes sent to me from the very beginning. First, there was the police officer who drove me to and from the hospital that awful night. He was young, and I can’t even imagine if he ever had to drive someone in a similar situation to the hospital. Did he already know Bruce was dead? Given that we waited for him to arrive to our home before the ambulance left for the hospital, I would guess – yes. Besides, I know he heard me calling my parents from the backseat and saying, “I think Bruce is dead.” I don’t remember much more about that ride.

However, I do know he walked me into the ER and explained who I was, because I was in shock. Then, he sat with me… the entire time I was at the hospital, he stayed close by – a strong, secure, quiet presence… I didn’t know it at the time, but I needed that. And when he finally drove me back home, he took his time, and gave me some safety advice about living alone… my “new normal”.

The next few heroes on this path were the family and friends who came as soon as they got the message. I remember my boss, at the time, was the first one here (at 3 am). I don’t remember any of our conversation, but I know she stayed with me until my son arrived several hours later.

Then, the rest of my family and Bruce’s family all arrived within the next several hours… (Heroes – all of them!) And from the moment she arrived, my dear sweet sister never left my side. She slept with me those first several nights and held me (or my hand) – simply to remind me that I wasn’t alone… I didn’t need to do this alone.

There is also Bruce’s family… Everything I have read says to expect the spouse’s family to eventually fade out of your life. I love them so much and was terrified of losing that connection. But no…Through the years, they have remained fiercely by my side – reminding me constantly that they are my family too… And I am theirs.

Through the years, there have been heroes who have held me up – some without ever knowing it and others in the most simple of ways, such as a kind message of love and encouragement. For example, one of my fellow teachers from my school in SC has consistently sent me messages of encouragement and reminders that I remain always in her prayers. I thank God for her… Those messages have gotten me through some truly rough days.

There are also people I supervised years ago in Michigan who sent me a “comfort blanket” last year. It has become my absolute favorite, snuggle blanket. I am all about textures, so when I am down, I find great comfort in it’s warmth and softness, as I remember that I am loved.

Of course, no list would be complete without mentioning my kids and my grandson. With the exception of one of my daughters (who happens to live in another country and I talk to weekly), all the rest live within an hour or two. All of them never fail to hold me up on those tough days, like holidays and anniversaries. If I want to be alone, they respect that. If I need company, they are happy to be here. Either way, they make sure I know I am loved… That means the world to me!

There are also my work friends, who are always willing to give me a big bear hug whenever needed. As well as my FB friends whose motivational posts can usually touch my heart when it is most needed. I even have one friend who is currently sharing her mental health journey. She was one of my first mentors in the corporate world, and here she is again leading with her own courage… And I am paying attention.

Finally, there are the people who have no idea what they mean to me… This includes my new woman’s group, my therapist, and so many others… You know what I mean – those people who never knew Bruce, but who genuinely care about me as a woman and where my heart is.

I think that is it… Not the end of the list, (because I am sure I have left off so many more)… But that is the point… These people… All of these people genuinely care about me and where my heart is… I am so thankful for and to each person who has supported me when I couldn’t support myself. All of you who have been patient in helping me learn to live life again. Each and every one of you is my hero… And I love you dearly!
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. 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. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘be’ and to be comfortable with that however it looks.

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.

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Peace, Love, and Grief… Working on Grace

Yep… Still me… and yep… Still working my way along this path that I find myself on… One step at a time… And if I had to pinpoint one phrase that sums up this journey I have been on for so long, I would say it is ‘a journey to find myself’.

The crazy thing is, I’m not even sure what that end result should look like. As I’ve written before, I was raised to be “a good girl” – doing what others in authority expected of me, (as I am sure many of you were too). The crazy thing is that as a child in the world I was raised in, almost everyone had authority over me – all adults, anyone male, and anyone older. I’m not sure that was the actual message spoken, but it was the one I took in.

In my first marriage, my ex believed he had the authority to treat the rest of us however he saw fit. He even threatened several times to “turn me into ‘the church’” if I didn’t follow his directives and humble myself to the “proper station” as his wife. (Insert eye roll here.) I never could get it right, though, so I was constantly in trouble. After I finally walked away from that relationship, I was left feeling defeated, broken, and completely hopeless.

I think Bruce was one of the first people to speak to that and say, “No, that isn’t right.” He was the first one to show me that I was in charge of me… He didn’t believe nor did he want me to be “less than” him. He wanted a partner… Someone on equal footing with him. He consistently pointed out that I was the one who had authority over me. Granted, there are other figures of authority that I need to respect, but ultimately, I am in charge of me. That was something new and different… And I found that I really liked it!

I was like a toddler learning to walk in this new-found freedom – not completely steady on my feet. I stumbled quite a bit, but with his encouragement, I learned to keep getting back up and starting again.

Then, almost as quickly as he came into my life, he was gone… I was devastated. Without him by my side, I found myself spiraling into an abyss that had no end… I was failing at living. I cried night and day. And as much as I wanted to believe in a God who cared, I didn’t feel it… Instead, I felt totally alone with no spiritual or emotional tools to grasp and hang onto.

As the years have passed, I have been working to get back on that path Bruce started me on… The one where I live my life… the one where I care about myself… and love myself. Which brings me to this week.

As I have been talking about, I have been struggling a lot lately with depression derived from an overabundance of self-loathing. I have been working on me, but the more I get to know myself, the less I like myself. The more I delve into the mistakes I have made in this life, the more disgusted I have been with me… It has not been good… It has not been healthy.

Then, today at church, something clicked. (Don’t get me wrong, I know I still have a long road ahead.) First of all, I had only been going to this little church for a couple of weeks when I was called back to SC to help with some family things. So, I have been out of town for several weeks. Yet, as soon as I walked in, I was greeted with some the most genuine glad-you-are-back hugs and love I have ever known. As the service started and the music played, the words being spoken went straight to my heart. It was all about loving ourselves and giving ourselves grace – grace to make mistakes and grace to fall down and get back up again… It was exactly what I needed to hear today.

I know this path in front of me (without Bruce) will still be a long one. I know I can stay broken. I can keep repeating patterns of dysfunction over and over… OR… I can listen to that divine voice of God within myself and give myself grace when I stumble… the same grace I so easily offer to others. (Why not myself too?)

Bruce gave me such a wonderful gift all those years ago when he believed in me and my ability to walk beside him. Now, it is my turn to pick up that baton and follow this light into a new and unknown space. Bruce always tried to get me to understand the power that is within me – that divine power to create a life of security, serenity, and love – for others and for myself.

Today I am feeling a joy that I haven’t felt in years. A joy in knowing that the divine within me wants me to be courageous and filled with compassion for all of God’s creation… which (to my surprise) also includes myself.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard. 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. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘BE’ and to be comfortable with that however it looks.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Grief, Depression, and Hope

Grief… Depression… and Hope? Over the last several years, as I am working my way along this current path I find myself on, these three words have come up a lot! I guess that is a good thing, because each time, I learn a little bit more about me… And (usually) the next steps I need to take on this road.

Before exploring this, let’s look at their definitions (according to several sources),
• Grief is a deep sorrow, especially that caused by loss, such as (but not always) the death of someone.
• Depression is considered a mood disorder characterized by persistent sadness and a lack of interest or pleasure in previously rewarding and enjoyable activities or life itself.
• Hope is a desire accompanied by expectation of or belief in fulfillment; to await some occurrence or outcome with implied certainty that what one desires or longs for will happen.

So how do these words go together?…

Immediately after Bruce died, I felt grief… Absolute, overwhelming sorrow at the loss of this man I love. But that really doesn’t explain it… You see, it wasn’t just the person… And it wasn’t just the relationship… His loss involved so much more than just those two things.

For just a moment, let’s think about a few things. First, think about the person – who they were, their voice, their smile, their laughter… Think about the things that were specific to them… Those little idiosyncrasies (whether you liked those things or not) that made them who they were… That was the man I lost.

Now think about what that person added to the two of you, within the relationship or as a couple. What were those little things that made the two of you special when you were together? Was it the way they filled your “love tank” or maybe it was the way they interacted with your kids or your family as you simply observed and let them “do their thing”… That was the relationship.

But we all know, that isn’t all of it… Think about all the precious memories and experiences you shared. Think about your dreams for your future together. Think about all the roles that person may have played within your life… Maybe they were the one to take care of the taxes or do the yard. Maybe they were the one to help with the homework or cook the dinner. Were they the one to plan the trips or come up with that fun thing to do on the weekend? Whatever it was, each of us brings different gifts and talents to the table that we add to each relationship… Many times, these are the very things that trigger and re-trigger our grief each time we encounter that specific missing piece from our life.

Which brings us to that next word, depression. Not too long after Bruce died, most of the people around me had moved on… And while that was hard to watch at the time, they should… And I knew that. The hard part came with the people who thought I should move along as quickly as they did. While I am sure there were different reasons for their thought process, I believe the biggest reason was that this was something they had not experienced. Perhaps, they thought (like I did before Bruce died), that there was a list of feelings to work though; after that, the grief is over – like a checklist and a switch… So when that didn’t happen, they chose to pull out another word, depression.

What most of us find, though, is that grief does not come with a checklist. Yes, there are the emotions you hear about – the 5 stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). The problem is these were originally meant for someone facing death… someone actually dying. Over time, they have been applied to those grieving. Yet, while it is true, you will feel all of these, it is not a nice, neat, orderly occurrence. It is more like a tangled up, knotted up ball of emotions, with those five popping in and out of your psyche day in and day out. Sure, over time, we learn how to manage these better. However, the timing is different for each of us, depending on our support, the triggers around us, and how much hope we feel about tomorrow.

So… hope… that last word. That is the part that has been the hardest for me. If hope is a belief that something longed for will happen, then grief is the exact opposite. Why? Because the very thing we long for… the person we have lost is not coming back. We know without any doubt at all that that person… that relationship… all the things they brought into our world are permanently… forever… gone. As we find ourselves looking at the years ahead (no, we don’t just look at the days), we struggle to see what the future can hold that will bring that special light back into our world.

So then, I suppose, that becomes the goal… finding hope in a world where we have lost hope.

Since Bruce died, I have had my good days and my bad days. I have had moments where I felt there was hope for my tomorrow and days when I didn’t want to face tomorrow. In case you couldn’t tell here, due to life’s current circumstances, the last several months have been filled with more hopeless days than usual… I know my depression has been a struggle, and I am working on it… I haven’t given up… I know I can figure this out. Then, because the Universe tends to push me past my comfort zone, my journal prompt today was: “Hope starts with the promises of God.”

I almost laughed out loud! Of course, that was the prompt today! Because ‘hope’ is the one thing I have not felt lately… It has been the straw I keep trying to grasp, but keep missing… So, here were my thoughts…
“I think that is where my depression stems from – a loss of hope. Remembering that even when my heart hurts… even when my loss feels like more than I can bear… remembering God is compassionate to my pain is where I need to focus and what I need to hang on to, because this is where my hope comes from… A hope that the next moment, hour, or even tomorrow can be better. Remembering and trusting… those aren’t my usual first reactions… but I am working on it. In the meantime, I will give myself the time needed to cope with the changes in my life and to seek comfort for as long as I may need it… and knowing that this growth can be easier when I turn to the divine within and allow myself to feel God’s comforting presence in each moment.“

“Out of my distress I called on the Lord, and the Lord answered me.” ~ Psalm 118:5
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard. 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. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘BE’ and to be comfortable with that – however it looks.

Peace, Love, and Grief… What’s Faith Got to Do with It?

I have written about it before, so most of you are aware that just a few weeks before Bruce died, I came to the realization that my faith wasn’t really mine… or at the very least, had ceased to grow in a way that was helpful. I had reached a point where the dogma had become more hurtful than hopeful.

Then, when Bruce died, it all fell apart…

The little bit of faith I thought I had left quickly drained away. The loss… the feelings of abandonment… the loneliness… the complete devastation… it was too much… How could a God who knew all… who knew me… who knew how much Bruce and I loved each other… who knew how much healing Bruce had brought to me and my kids… How could a God that knew all of this, let Bruce die… How??

I couldn’t wrap my brain around it – at least not for years.

I remember all the expressions of sympathy from my friends and family. Their love and caring meant the world to me… Each and every note truly helped to hold me up. The only things I truly struggled with were the things people said that fell flat, such as “He’s in a better place” or “God needed another angel”. NO! Those words were not comforting… Those words did not offer empathy or compassion. Instead, those words simply fueled my anger and pointed it to a God who came across as selfish and uncaring if those phrases were accurate. That was not a God who I wanted anything to do with.

At the same time, when there were verses attached to the note on a card, written in a song, or sent in a GIF, I paid attention… I was desperate for something – anything – to ease the pain I felt.

I can remember some that I found helpful were:

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.” ~ Psalm 147:3

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ says the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.’” ~ Jeremiah 29:1

I also remember when people tried to tell me that grieving showed a lack of faith, or that I needed to “get over it and move forward”, or any number of things that called for me to deny my grief and behave in a way that made others more comfortable. Then, I remembered and found these:

“Jesus wept.” ~ John 11:35 (It is noted several times that Jesus wept, but this particular time was in response to the death of a dear friend.)

“Then Jesus said to them, ‘My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.’” ~Matthew 26:38

How about that? … Jesus wept… Jesus grieved… Not only was it okay for me to feel this way, this God I had been raised to trust knew how I felt… This God was by my side and grieving with me.

“I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you… You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you.” ~ Isaiah 43: 1-2, 4

Before long, my faith journey started. A real journey… a journey to let go of everything I had been taught and the man-made dogma that went with it. (Honestly, this is still my journey, and I hope it never ends, because now I love what I am learning.)

Anyway, it wasn’t too long before Psalm 46:10 (“Be still and know that I am God.”) became my mantra and my morning meditation. It became a way to sit still and allow myself to find comfort in the Divine – “One God, One life, one mind, one heart… Together we are one.” This has become my morning tradition, and while it isn’t for everyone, I find great comfort in it.

The past few months, as I have been working on healing other areas of my life, I have found myself missing Bruce and feeling down on myself more than usual… more than I have in years. In fact, the more I deal with the mistakes I have made through the years, the more I have disliked and been angry with myself… And the more I have hated myself, the more I have missed Bruce… The man who saw so much more in me than I ever did… The man who believed in me and helped me keep a level head about my past, as well as, where I was heading.

Then, last week, the universe floated this verse into my world:

“I thank my God every time I remember you.” ~ Philippians 1:3

Oh my gosh! How simple and how true! I may be having a good day or a bad day… I may be happy or grieving or angry… Yet, no matter what, I really do thank God every single day for this man… This man who showed me true, unconditional love with every breath.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard. I don’t think any of us chose to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined. Each time I think I have it all figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. Life is filled with challenges for all of us. For me, my goal is to look at this year before me and (intentionally) hold onto the joy and the hope life holds.

Peace, Love, and Grief… The Other Side of Grief

Losing someone you love is hard. Grieving is hard. Each week for years, I have shared my journey as I grieve for the man I love. This week, though, is different. This week, I have watched my mother grieve… and that has been so very hard.

My mother is in her 80’s, and I have watched her grow more and more physically fragile over the last decade. This last week, though, I watched as her grief seemed to put a spotlight on just how frail she truly is.

You see, my mother is the second child of four – the oldest girl who was given a lot of family responsibility way too young. The siblings (in order) were boy, girl (my mom), girl, and boy. Through the years, (I believe), she has always felt like the second mother in the family – no matter their age. I can’t say how the rest felt about her assumed role, but despite differences in politics, religion, or even lifestyle choices, I have watched my mother love her siblings fiercely… no matter what.

No too long ago, her younger sister passed away. I watched as Momma worked to reconcile her faith with her grief. (Something I understand all too well) I can’t even remember how many times I tried to reassure her that grieving is okay… It’s part of the process – a process that has involved a lot more emotions than most of us expect. I’m not even sure she ever let herself completely mourn that loss, (but as we all know, that grief will always come out somewhere).

This past week, though, it was her older brother who passed away. He was a good man. He had lived a good, full life, and had recently experienced the loss of his own wife. I think for most of us, his death was quick and unexpected.

As the family gathered this week, my sister and I were feeling a bit protective of our mom. Since her younger brother is physically disabled, Momma was the only able-bodied sibling left of the four… and I think that hit her hard. At the viewing, the day before, she seemed to be doing okay (all things considered), but the next day at the funeral, the impact of her grief was much more evident.

Because our family does this odd thing at funerals where the widows are relegated to the back row of the family section, it was my sister who sat with our Mom. (Our father was standing to the side due to limited seating.) Seated behind them, it was heartbreaking to watch my mother’s heart actually breaking. At the same time, I was so glad my sister was there beside her to put an arm around her and comfort her.

I think this is a side of grief I haven’t thought about too much… The part where you can only sit with the person who is grieving. You can’t fix it, and there are no words that truly bring any real comfort… What a helpless feeling! However, warm bodies… hugs… someone willing to just sit in the sadness with you – these I know from experience are what we can offer.

So this time… this week… I have been on the other side of grief… The side that may sometimes be just as hard knowing that all we can do for the person we love is to be there… And to love them through the hurt.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard. I don’t think any of us chose to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined. Each time I think I have it all figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. Life is filled with challenges for all of us. For me, my goal is to look at this year before me and (intentionally) hold onto the joy and the hope life holds.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Love and Loneliness

Love and Loneliness… Those are two words we don’t often see together, right? Yet sometimes, the line between these two is a fine line…

I have always been a hugger. I love hugs. I love holding hands. I love snuggles. Physical touch speaks volumes to my soul… And kind, loving, physical touch brings me peace and makes me smile, because this is one of my “love languages”. *

Luckily, since Bruce and I had the same “love languages”, (touch and time), we fit… love and expressing love was easy between the two of us. We could sit for hours without speaking – just touching – and never say a word… never say “I love you”. Yet, we both felt totally and completely loved with each other.

Sometimes this looked like sitting on the beach with our pinkies linked, or riding in the car with his hand resting on my knee, or sitting on the couch holding hands, or snuggled up in bed each night. In fact, I don’t think either of us could walk past the other without a simple caress or touch… And words were not needed… There was simply so much love expressed in each simple touch.

So, when Bruce died, those loving caresses were gone… Our time spent silently saying “I love you” was over… I was (and still am) devastated.

It didn’t take long for loneliness to slip into my psyche. I wasn’t alone. Besides, being alone isn’t always loneliness… I just couldn’t figure out where I fit in, and the lack of those loving touches drained my “love bank” quite quickly, which left me feeling unloved, as well. So there I was – not belonging and unloved… that is where my grief settled in.

More than likely, there are several of you thinking that there was a simple fix for this – just ask for what you need… I know… I did.

Thankfully, the people around me who knew me best were very generous with their hugs. (Honestly, without those people, I don’t know where I would be today.) Even my co-workers were willing to give me a big, old hug most mornings… Then suddenly, it was 2020 and Covid hit. Seemingly overnight, we were all isolated. My hugs were greatly reduced… and I struggled.

Now, those days seem to be behind us… We are, once again, able to get out and be a community again. However, we spent so long in isolation, it seems that there are some changes from those days that appear to be a permanent part of our existence.

For example, we now tend to interact less and keep a certain distance – both physically and emotionally. I get it… Covid is still around and many of us don’t want to be sick. Also, I believe that after so many years of distancing, shaking hands or hugging now feels awkward… And not just with strangers or acquaintances, but with anyone we don’t live with or see on a day-to-day basis.

Shoot, even I find myself hanging back. As much as I might crave a hug or some kind of human touch, I have become acclimated to a world where this is no longer as socially acceptable as before.

So, while I (rationally) know I am loved, feeling it is another story… And when you don’t feel loved, you don’t feel like you belong. Yes, I know these are just emotions – not reality, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Thankfully, I have fabulous people in my life… People who have recognized this and reach out consistently. In turn, I am also pushing myself past my comfort zone, and getting involved in my community. These steps have become important for me… Steps I am taking to broaden that line… that line that appeared when Bruce died… that thin line between love and loneliness…

* If you have never read The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman, I would highly recommend it.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard. I don’t think any of us chose to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined. Each time I think I have it all figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. Life is filled with challenges for all of us. For me, my goal is to look at this year before me and (intentionally) hold onto the joy and the hope life holds.
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.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Shattered

I know it is only February, but I have to be honest… This is already a hard year for me. Up to now, it has been a year of pushing and stretching and growing. That might sound a bit dramatic, but I just mean that I am working on me… And I don’t always like what I see. I know this is the hard part of therapy – the part where you have to really dig deep, take a close look, and try to genuinely figure out why you respond to life the way you do… or, for me, the way I do.

For me evidently, trauma has played a big part in my “why”. Like most of us, I have had my fair share, such as a tumultuous first marriage and the loss of a child. I think Bruce’s death, though, has been the hardest one for me. Maybe that is because, I still wrestle with guilt that I wasn’t able to save him that night, or maybe it is the loss of the other half of my soul – that someone who loved me in a way that I had never been loved before – total… complete… unconditional. I am sure it is all that and a lot more.

The bottom line is when he died my whole world was shattered… I was shattered… And if I let myself dwell on it too much, I can still feel just as shattered now as I was on day one. There have been people through the years who have tried to convince me that I shouldn’t feel that way… And it is usually followed by something like, “Be happy – he’s in a better place” or “Learn to be thankful in all things.” In other words, something meant to be positive and uplifting, but misses that mark by a mile. Instead, these are statements that only create more guilt and (in my case) a tendency to withdraw.

Like everyone else, I can’t help how I feel… Instead, it’s what I do with those feelings that I am working on…

This week, though, I heard something for the first time, that has really stuck with me… I was watching Lysa Terkeurst discuss the effects of trauma and loss. At one point, she stated that when her 20+ year marriage ended, she was shattered… She said she felt like a broken mess, and of course, so many people made comments that were meant to be encouraging, but instead instilled guilt because she couldn’t feel the way they wanted her to feel.

Oh my gosh! I know she was talking about different circumstances, but the feelings were the same! It caught my attention because:
1. I could easily relate to the feelings she was experiencing… That sense of failure for not grieving or managing traumatic events and emotions “correctly”.
2. I wanted to see if she had an answer on how to fix all of that.

Then, she made a simple statement… A statement that has brought me so much peace this week… She said that she felt she had been “shattered to dust”. (Yep… I get that… That is exactly how I feel so much of the time.) “But,” she continued, “God loved and created humans from dust, and there is encouragement to be found in that.”

I have to say, that little statement has meant so much to me… Let’s be honest. I don’t like feeling shattered and don’t want to feel like this forever. At the same time, I don’t need to feel guilty or like I have to “fix me” to satisfy anyone else. Instead, I can find solace in knowing that even when I am shattered, God is here beside me – not just loving me, but ready to create a new me from what feels like the shattered dust of my soul.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard. I don’t think any of us chose to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined. Each time I think I have it all figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. Life is filled with challenges for all of us. For me, my goal is to look at this year before me and (intentionally) hold onto the joy and the hope life holds.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Finding Prosperity in Grief

This morning at church, one of the themes was centered around prosperity. We discussed how prosperity is usually defined as having to do with financial status or material possessions. The challenge for most of us is to think about prosperity in terms of our relationships, and how much richness is added to our lives through our relationships.

Immediately, I thought of Bruce and all that he added (and continues to add) to my life. This isn’t the first time I have thought about that. In fact, many of my journal entries include things I am thankful for, and in some form, Bruce is always on the list. In fact, on the anniversary of his death a few weeks ago, I made a long list of things about Bruce that I am thankful for… (After four pages, I stopped, but the list could have been much longer.)

On this list, I included the many ways I still feel him in my life… The things I feel he has had a hand in or chuckled about… or both. On that same anniversary day, one such scenario occurred, and since it continues to make me laugh and has already become one of my favorite precious memories, I thought I’d share it with y’all today… (And hopefully, it will bring a smile to your face, too.)

As I mentioned last week, I took the day off to spend it in quiet reflection, while also allowing myself to write and feel all the things. I spent the morning in our home. Yes, I cried, but I also smiled as I remembered so many wonderful memories – reliving them in my mind’s eye and expressing so much gratitude for each and every one.

For lunch, I went to a waterfront tiki bar in a nearby town. While Bruce never had the opportunity to go there, it is a place I recently found and the whole vibe is one he would have loved. I think it would have become our weekend spot if he had known about it. I spent over an hour there, simply enjoying the waterfront view and the delicious seafood… (the glass of wine didn’t hurt either). I even splurged, and had key lime pie for dessert, which was Bruce’s specialty. I never knew when he was going to make one. I would just come home and find one in the frig (and a grin on Bruce’s face). His was the best Key Lime pie! I always loved this kind of surprise. Admittedly, it’s been a long time since I had Key Lime pie, and this one did not disappoint.

From there, I headed out to the beach. For reference, there are 13 stations. Numbers 1 – 5 have a bit of a steep incline, both over the dunes and out to the shoreline, so we rarely went to these when Bruce was alive. Station #13 has long been the nudist station, and there are signs as you drive in stating such, so that no one will be caught off guard, and people can make their own choices about where to spend their time.
I need to explain that Bruce would always tease me about going to #13. Not that I care – you want to be naked, then be naked. Honestly, I wish I had the self-confidence and positive body image to do that… But I don’t. So… our favorite was station #9. We used to spend many Sundays out there – Bruce fishing and me reading or both of us simply relaxing and holding hands. There are so many wonderful memories there. This is also where his ashes were sprinkled way offshore many years ago.

So, this is where I wanted to be…

I simply wanted to go sit out there and enjoy that space… To feel Bruce nearby and do some more reflection and writing. (I guess, for me, it is like going to sit by a loved one’s grave sight – or as close as I can get.)

However, due to the damage from hurricane Nicole, the only open stations were #1 – #5 and #7. Well, since #7 was as close as I could get to #9, that is where I headed. It was a sunny day, but the temps were only hovering around the mid-70s on shore, (which meant the beach would be about 10 degrees cooler once you crossed the dunes). No worries, I had on jeans, tennis shoes, and a hoodie – with the sun shining, I figured I would be warm enough.

I pulled my gear out of the trunk and started the hike on the boardwalk over the dunes. As I reached the top, I noticed a man… a naked man walking back from the water to his chair. “Oh,” I thought, “we’re going to do that today, I see.” Oh well… to each his own. After all, it was a weekday, maybe he felt so inclined since there wouldn’t be that many people here… Who knows?? Honestly, I really didn’t care.

Then, as I scanned the shoreline to find a place to settle, I noticed that everyone on the beach was nude… or at least 99% of them. I didn’t care… I just took my chair, and since the tide was going out, I settled as close to the water as possible… And here is what I wrote…

“Hi Babe! I am at the beach and must ask you… “Did you have a hand in this?” Holy Moly! So the nude beach has evidently been moved to #7 for the time being. I can’t tell you how surprised I was when I crossed the dunes… and how much I want to giggle. (I know – I am five years old over here.) I don’t care, though, so here I sit, fully clothed, in the middle of a bunch of naked people. I am sure you are laughing so hard right now! This is a friendly lot, though. Everyone says “hi” and are all talking to each other (and me). Oh my gosh! How I miss sharing stuff like this with you. At the same time, I can’t help but feel like you had a hand in this, so that I would laugh today. Thank you, Babe, for another precious memory!”

So… This is where my prosperity is… in the many precious memories shared with and /or because of the people I love… and in this particular case, it is Bruce!
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone… and at certain times of the year, (like now), it can be just a little bit harder. I don’t think any of us chose this path, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined. Each time I think I have it all figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. Life is filled with challenges for all of us. For me, my goal is to look at this year before me and (intentionally) hold onto the joy and the hope life holds.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Another Milestone

First, I need to apologize. I couldn’t write last week… Physically – yes, I could have… Emotionally – no, I could not. Even this week, it is still a struggle to write about what I am feeling these last few weeks.

Second, I want to thank all of the people who have been by my side, taking turns calling me daily to check in while offering me more love and support than I could ever repay. Thank you!

So… What has me so emotional? Two weeks ago, I observed the ten-year anniversary of Bruce’s death…

A decade! How has it been a whole decade… It’s so hard to believe. One would think after 10 years, I would be able to manage my emotions fairly well. Shoot, even I thought that, but I was wrong. I am told this is because it is a “milestone” … Whatever the reason, I have really struggled. This day has proven to be just as hard as that first year, and I feel silly to admit it… but it is what it is, and I have always striven to be honest here.

Last week, I couldn’t write… It was all too much… my emotions too raw. Even today, I’m not really sure what to write. So, I hope you will indulge me as I simply share several of the items I journaled that week.

I miss you
And my heart is breaking…
Again.

I miss you
And the tears are falling…
Again

I miss you
And I’m all alone…
Again.
~ Linda, 2023
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Bruce was sent to me,
Like the perfect gift –
Full of love and kindness.
Always gentle –
Like a balm for my broken soul.

Then, like a cruel joke,
He was ripped away –
Torn from my life.

My world is gone.
My heart is shattered.
My life feels broken.
How do I go on from here?

Will I ever know joy again?
Will I ever be at peace?
Or will I always move forward cautiously –
Feeling abandoned and alone?
~ Linda, 2023
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I just want to curl up into a ball.
I want to pull a blanket up over my head
And pretend the whole world
And this F***ing reality don’t exist.
I just want this pain to stop…
Please, God… just make it stop!
~ Linda, 2023
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My heart is so sad…
So heavy…
So broken…
I still don’t understand.
How can you be gone?
Why did you leave me?
The tears won’t stop.
The pain won’t stop.
I just want you.
~ Linda, 2023
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I woke up crying.
The sun isn’t up
And my heart is already breaking into 1000 pieces.
I wonder if this day will ever come and go
Without all this pain?
Probably not…
Not until the day when I am there with you.
~ Linda, 2023
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No… I’m not okay.
Each morning, I wake up
And my heart breaks all over again.
A million tiny pieces,
And I don’t know how to put it back together.
I miss him so much…
So, no… I’m not okay.
~ Linda, 2023
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Hi Babe,
I miss you so much this morning. I woke up crying. I seem to get it under control, but 2 – 3 breaths later, I am crying again. I have things planned for today. Things I want to do to honor and remember you. But right now, all I want to do is sit here… in my PJs… in my favorite chair… with my tea and my “comfort” blanket… looking around our home – remembering so many good times… so many precious memories.

Ten years… ten damn years… and it still hurts as bad as at the beginning.

I love this place… the memories here. (sigh) I can’t imagine ever leaving and not being here. I feel you here, and that really does bring me some comfort. Maybe it is just my emotions or the idea that I want to feel you and so I do. It doesn’t matter. It gives me a space of peace and comfort, especially on days like today – days where the grief is so absolute, I struggle to see a way forward.

You came into my life at a time when I had been beaten down so low. I was convinced love was a myth – a fairy tale – not anything real or lasting. Then, you (literally) sailed into my life, and your love lifted me back up and showed me what love and joy really were. You taught me to believe in myself. You gave me acceptance and unconditional love – only ever asking that I love you back – so simple… so wonderful… so complete.

Then, in a breath, in a moment, you were gone. And I continue pushing myself to keep moving forward – to not fall back into that low place that came before you… That is my struggle.

Some days I do better than others. Most days, I actually do pretty good. I have learned to laugh and smile again. (That took a while.) I have learned that it’s okay to enjoy life and the love of those around me, even though you are gone. But… then… there are the days (like today) when I can’t avoid staring your loss in the face… where the memories of our last days together remind me that it is the ordinary moments I miss the most… Where the shock of your death and my failure to save you fill my mind and leave me struggling in a darkness that won’t let me go…

I miss you, Babe… I know… ten years. I should be doing better, but I can’t stop loving you. There isn’t a switch to turn off. Instead, there is all this love with no place to go. And so… I sit here… crying… still praying that this is not real, even when I know it is.

I love you, Babe – Always and Forever!
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone… and at certain times of the year, (like now), it can be just a little bit harder. I don’t think any of us chose this path, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined. Each time I think I have it all figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. Life is filled with challenges for all of us. For me, my goal is to look at this year before me and (intentionally) hold onto the joy and the hope life holds.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Where is My Focus

I have good friends.
I have good family.
I am in a good place.
So, why does it still hurt so bad?
~ Linda, 2021

In my morning readings this week, I came upon a list of the “Keys to Happiness”. The very first one stated, “Happiness is a choice.” Hmmm… I have heard this many times before and always find it interesting. As if our sadness, grief, depression, or whatever we are dealing with should be put aside, ignored, and is somehow our choice and our fault.

I am sure there are those who swear by this mantra, and (to a point) I get it. Generally speaking, I am a positive person. As a past performer, I know, as well as anyone, how to smile at the world when everything on the inside is falling apart. But let’s be honest… happiness isn’t our only emotion… And how healthy is it really to ignore all other emotions and only allow “happiness” – real or pretend – into our lives. I believe it is healthier to feel and work through those other emotions and situations, so that we can be our full, authentic self versus a pretend shadow of who we really are.

Don’t get me wrong… I understand the importance of knowing when and where to do that work, plus the added responsibility of implementing some emotional regulation and control. But completely ignoring all other emotions besides happiness isn’t realistic nor healthy for anyone.

Instead, I think it is more about where we decide to place our focus on any given day and at any given moment…

When Bruce first died, I heard all about this “new normal” that I needed to adjust to – the sooner the better, supposedly. Then, I was told that time would heal… That was all I needed – time. Yet, when that didn’t turn out to be the case, I was told that it was like an injury – the scar or limp would always be there, but the pain and such would fade – remembered but no longer really hurting. Again… That has not been my reality.

Instead, I have found it to be more like an object lesson about focus that we used to use with our kids in school…

Picture a dime… It’s small – not big at all. You can easily hold it between two fingers or hide it in your fist. Now, if you take that dime and hold it close to your face… So close that it blocks almost everything else from your view. At that point, it demands your focus. You have no choice since it is (almost) the only thing you can see. However, as you pull it further away – further back – the rest of the world starts to open up to you again. You can see all the things that were blocked before. Now… that dime is still there. It is the same size it has always been. You can still see it and hold it, but it no longer demands all your focus.

Grief is like that dime… There are days where that grief (dime) is simply a part of the landscape. You know it is there. You can see it, and you can even feel it when you let yourself think about it. In fact, it can easily take over your entire field of vision, if you focus on it a lot (or “too much” according to some). At that point, the pain becomes intense and everything else fades back into the background.

In the beginning, this was every moment of every day. Throughout the years, I have learned to hold that grief far enough out, so that most days I can see and enjoy the rest of my world. My grief isn’t gone; it just isn’t my entire focus. Instead, it is another piece in my life’s tapestry.

However, even now after all this time, there are still days when that grief does blot out everything else… And it isn’t like a scar or a limp… The pain and loneliness are just as strong and just as real as on day one. The only difference is that now, I have a better idea of how to handle it… and a better understanding of how to work through those moments so I can be stronger for the next one.

This week, as the anniversary of Bruce’s death approaches, that grief is getting closer and closer… Each day it seems to be blocking out more and more of the rest of my world. I understand why and I know that it will pass… But I also know that for the next several days, it will be my focus… And by acknowledging it and working through it, I believe I am being much healthier and kinder to myself, than if I ignored it and pretended I didn’t feel it at all.

There is a pain so intense
So deep
It cannot be healed.
It is my soul crying out for yours…
~ Linda, 2015

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone… and at certain times of the year, it can be just a little bit harder. I don’t think any of us wants to on this path, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined – especially during the holidays. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. This next week will hold a lot of challenges for me, as I face the anniversary of Bruce’s death, but my goal is to look at this new year before me and find the joy and the hope life holds.