anniversary – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief… With All My Heart

This week was our anniversary… In keeping with years past, I have chosen to simply share the words I wish I could say to Bruce. Who knows… maybe by sharing them here… by putting them out into the universe, he will hear them too and know that my love for him is still going strong…

Hi Babe!

Happy Anniversary! It is hard to believe that this would have been year 17… Yet, it feels like only yesterday when we stood with our families in front of a judge, said, “I do”, and made promises of love and commitment. I can remember the feel of your hands holding mine. I can remember looking into your eyes and all of my doubts and fears about trusting someone again fell away… I knew this was right. I knew our love was true… and real… and forever.

This year, though, has been one of the hardest anniversaries to date…

I was really looking forward to a day spent simply celebrating us. I wanted to spend time on the beach watching the sunrise. Then, a celebratory dinner at our favorite restaurant down in Cocoa. Sadly, though, TS/Hurricane Nicole changed all of those plans. Instead, I have been stuck here at home, watching the weather and waiting… just waiting.

It feels so wrong… as if “we” never happened… I know it sounds melodramatic, but I have never not celebrated this day. I was actually supposed to be off today to spend the day celebrating us – the biggest blessing my little family has known. Instead, though, I gave the day back at the last minute yesterday. Knowing that I wouldn’t be able to go anywhere, it seemed like a very bad idea to sit here at home feeling sorry for myself versus celebrating.

So, I worked today. It seemed like a good idea to pass the time, and now, at the end of the day, I am simply sitting here in our space – celebrating with a glass of wine and writing to you all the things I wish I could tell you…

Let me start by saying, “Thank you!” Thank you for coming into my life and being my hero. Thank you for all of your love and support… for believing in me… for believing that I could do so much more than I ever imagined.

Thank you, too, for loving my kids… For being the man whom they could count on to love them no matter what… For being the man who showed unconditional love and support from day one. Thank you for showing them what a healthy marriage and an emotionally healthy man look like… For being a true father – not in name only, but in your everyday actions.

Thank you for all the love and endless hugs… For holding me in the night when I awoke terrified of dreams about the past that felt all too real… For greeting me at the door with a hug and a glass of wine at the end of a hard day… For making me feel like the only woman in the world (in your eyes) who mattered… For believing in me… and believing in us.

Thank you for days spent on the beach and all the barefoot dances in the kitchen… For your constant outlook for our safety, and your endless patience. Thank you for this beautiful home, and all the ways you tried to have everything in order before you died.

For all of this and so much more, I thank you! I know our love was a blessing that I will always cherish… a gift that I will never, ever forget.

I love you, Babe, with all my heart… Now and Forever!

Linda

“I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way.” ~ Pablo Neruda
______________
All of us on this journey know that it isn’t easy. Loss can be traumatic, and the grief and life we are left to figure out is hard. Healing takes time… There is a lot of trial and error and moves at its own pace. Thankfully, though, there are moments and actions we can take to refresh our souls and guard our joy. There are also challenges where we learn that we are stronger than we think we are… Both of these provide moments where I learn a little bit more about faith, life, and love.

Thankfully, as the years pass, I can honestly say that there are more of good moments than bad. Each day, I continue to learn more and more about those things that seem to help me heal and move forward – like sharing precious memories. So, I will continue to allow myself the space I need to heal and process this life without my love… without Bruce. Thankfully, at this point in my journey, I am learning that I am not alone – thanks to you!

In fact, none of us need to be alone, because 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 and helps us to process that avalanche of emotions that grief brings us. 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… Happy Anniversary, Babe!

This week, I took some time off from work to celebrate what would have been our 16th anniversary… Even, now, it’s still hard to believe the love of my life is gone…

Happy Anniversary, Babe!… Sixteen! Wow! It’s hard to believe, but here I am sitting in “our restaurant celebrating “us” one more time. I think I will always celebrate the day we started our “happily ever after.” I am really missing you today… The tears feel as if they will fall at any moment… And mad… It has kind of surprised me, but I am kind of angry today, too. I don’t want to be doing this alone (again)! Enough is enough… I want you back here! After all these years, I still want you back.

(And breathe…) I need to stop focusing on that today. I need to just think of you… and us.

I think back to this day 16 years ago… My heart was so full!! So excited (and a little scared) at the thought of spending the rest of my life with this man who loved me… really loved me – unconditionally and for the rest of our lives… (even though that didn’t turn out to be).

For lunch today, I am here at our restaurant. They are always so gracious and still make it feel like a celebration, (even if I am alone). I keep wondering what today would be like if you were still here. I wonder what our lives would be like. Where would we be? What would we be doing? Would we have retired by now and bought that sailboat like we lways planned? Would we be chasing our dream of cruising the islands? … I wonder…

Oh my… There go the tears… I am missing you so much I can hardly breathe today. I’ve been sitting here for such a long time. I know I should leave, but I don’t want to move.

—————– (evening time)

Thank you, Babe! Thank you for being the man who loved me no matter what… You became my most amazing best friend (and even more). You “got” me… You knew when I needed a hug or another glass of wine. Your arms were always there – ready to hold me when I felt like my world was falling apart or when I just needed to feel your love… I miss that! I miss it so much!!

Sometimes I just sit in this house and remember… I can almost see you dancing barefoot in the kitchen while cooking dinner… Or pouring your “shower shots” before jumping into the shower after a long day at work. I love the way you used to turn back the covers on the bed and turn down the lights when it was bedtime. Then, you always helped me into bed and tucked me in before climbing into your side and pulling me close to lay in your arms… I really miss sleeping in your arms. There was so much peace and security to be found there. It always felt nothing could go wrong as long as I was laying there with you… My head on your chest listening to your heart beat as your breathing slowed and you fell asleep.

But now, all of that is gone… Now, I am supposed to smile and bravely face the world alone… I think I do okay, but I don’t like it… I don’t like it at all… just sayin’….

I love you, Babe! I will always love you… And I will always celebrate this day… and us! Happy 16th anniversary, Babe! I love you – always and forever!

This grief journey is not an easy path for any of us. It is not a path I ever saw myself on, and you probably didn’t either. I don’t think any of us wants to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all. Despite the years, special days, like anniversaries, don’t seem to get any easier. This week definitely held its challenges. Honestly, I don’t think any of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone. We are here for each other and, 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.

* 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… Have I Told You Lately?

“Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there’s no one above you
Fill, fill, fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that’s what you do”
~ Van Morrison

I love that song… My favorite version, the one that makes me smile and cry at the same time, was performed by Rod Stewart on his 1993 Unplugged and Seated album. I can’t tell you how many days I walked in the door after a long day, only to be greeted by Bruce with a glass of wine and this song playing on the stereo. He would smile, take me in his arms, and as we danced there in the kitchen, he would whisper those lyrics in my ear. My heart stops every time I remember those precious moments.

Precious moments… That is what has filled my mind this week.

Our 15th wedding anniversary is tomorrow. However, because I have had some time alone, I have been celebrating all weekend. Nothing big or crazy this year. I didn’t buy myself a gift, although I did buy some roses for the table. Mainly, because I know he would have done that… He always did.

I didn’t even take a sunrise walk on the beach this year. Honestly, I was awake in time, but instead, I wanted to just lie in our bed… in our room… and think about him… and us. There was just something about the warmth and security of our bed, that just held me there… longer than normal.

I did go for a long walk later in the afternoon. The tide was high and rough, so negotiating the shore was a struggle… But definitely worth every step. That is my happy place… The space where I can almost feel Bruce next to me. The space where I can talk to him out loud, and since no one else can hear me over the roar of the ocean, it feels so freeing. And there is something about knowing that his ashes were scattered out there that makes it such a precious space for me.

I didn’t go to our special restaurant this year. Things are too crazy in public, especially this weekend. There are people who are celebrating, and people who are angry. I definitely have my own opinions, but not this weekend. I just don’t want to get into the middle of something… Not this weekend, anyway. So, I had a steak dinner last night here at home… in our home… complete with champagne and dessert… and dancing along with a Jimmy Buffet concert playing on the TV.

Today, I have been listening to the music we used to enjoy and just thinking about us… Reading cards and emails we sent each other through the years. Honestly, I think this has been the best part of my weekend. I have smiled… and cried as I spend this day simply thinking about him… and us…

I remember meeting Bruce on a sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands, and my life changed forever…

I remember the two of us flying back and forth every three weeks between Michigan and South Carolina, falling more in love with every trip…

I remember when we finally decided we couldn’t do that anymore, and life changed my circumstances to make the “forever” decision even easier…

I remember moving to Michigan one autumn day and marrying this wonderful man a few days later…

I remember years of learning about each other and our love growing stronger day by day… year by year.

I remember moving to Florida, and how excited we were to embark on this new adventure… together.

I remember when we finally bought this little place on the coast – a place that was truly and completely ours…

I remember so many days in between all of these… Days filled with love… Days filled with adventure… Days filled with frustration and growth… Days filled with life… our life.

I know those days are gone, and I know those days are over. I also know that I don’t know how to let them go… How to let him go… I can’t… Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. He is still such a big part of my soul, and I think that is just what it is.

So… Happy Anniversary, Babe… I love you so much… still…

Life moves on.
Time passes.
But my heart stands still;
Lost in a space
Where I can still hear your voice.
Where your smile still greets mine.
Frozen in this space
Where you should be…
But you aren’t.
~ Linda, April 2020

Special days and anniversaries seem to carry emotions that can overwhelm us even years later. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What special days have you had to navigate lately? What do you remember? How do you celebrate? How do you manage those emotions? We would love to hear 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.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

* 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… It All Seemed So Normal

“Live fully and love fully for you never know what tomorrow holds.” ~ Unknown

It will be seven years next week… It’s hard to believe. There is a part of me that remembers like it was yesterday, and another part that feels like I have been on this journey (alone) forever… As another new year begins, I have found myself spending a lot of quiet moments this past week thinking about our last few weeks together…

It seemed so hard to believe when it happened… Up until the moment Bruce died, life in our home had all seemed so normal. There are so many normal, yet precious, moments in those last few weeks, that I pray I will never forget…

Our new year was supposed to start without any fanfare… We were supposed to go to a neighbor’s house for a short celebration. The plan was to leave by 8 pm, because Bruce had to be up at 3:30 AM to go to work the next day.

However, when the time came to leave, neither of us wanted to go… so we stayed… until midnight. It was so unlike either of us. We both took our jobs and responsibilities quite seriously – never late, always dependable. But that night was different… That night was spent laughing, dancing, holding each other close and reveling in the love we shared.

The next day, Bruce called out for the first time I had ever known, and we spent the day together, as well. We slept in, snuggled a bit, and spent some time on the beach. For dinner, we danced a little more in the kitchen as we cooked. Then, spent the rest of the evening snuggling and reminiscing…

It seemed like the perfect day. In fact, it seemed like the perfect way to start the new year… What could possibly go wrong when the year had started to perfectly?

The week progressed in such a normal fashion…

A couple of days later, as I was driving home from work, I realized my brakes were making noise. When Bruce got home, he immediately headed outside to fix them. It was late, and he was tired, but he was so protective, and never wasted any time to ensure I was safe.

I was so appreciative and asked what I could possibly do for him to make his day a little bit better. I remember laughing when he asked if I would make him one of my chocolate chip pecan pies. (So much for our “healthy” New Year resolutions.) But, without hesitation, I headed into the kitchen, and by the time he had finished fixing my brakes, he had fresh-out-of-the-oven pie waiting for him.

It’s funny, but neither of us really thought a lot about it… It was just how we rolled…

“If they matter to you, let them know.” ~ livelifehappy.com

It really was just a normal week, but I do have few other memories…

Halfway through the week, I received a text from Bruce about some bears being spotted near my office. I don’t work in a remote area… I work in the middle of town. So, I thought he must be teasing me, because I am terrified of bears. But when I challenged him, he “LOL’d,” and sent me link for a news article. Then, he suggested I might want to stay inside and skip walking on my breaks and lunch that day.

I still have that text, and it still cracks me up… How were there bears in the middle of town… and how did he know about it before my office could send out a notice? (Always looking out for me… that’s how!)

Bruce had that Thursday off, but I headed off to work. I had to wake him up to kiss him goodbye, and I remember him playfully trying to pull me back into bed, rather than letting me leave. However, he must not have had too much trouble waking up, because by the time I got to work, I had a text message from him. It was a picture of the sunrise with the words, “The one thing we still haven’t done together. I wish you were with me. I love you.”

I smiled… I wished I were there too… But we lived at the beach… We would have many opportunities to watch the sunrise together… We would just need to plan a day…

I remember the next morning, as Bruce was leaving for work, we hugged each other tight… I can remember leaning my head on his chest and telling him that I wished we never had to say, “goodbye” … I couldn’t wait for the day when we would both retire and just “play” all day. He smiled, kissed me and simply said, “Agreed.” Then, he hugged me close one more time before he left.

It wasn’t unusual for Bruce to work a 14-hour day, and that Friday was no exception. While I worked late, I still beat him home by hours. I had stopped on the way to pick up Chinese food, a favorite for both of us. As I watched his food grow cold, I sent him a message asking when he would be home, because I missed him.

I ended up falling asleep on the couch as I waited but woke up immediately when I heard his key in the lock. Immediately, I ran across the house to greet him. He was tired, but who wouldn’t be? I took his things and put them away. Then, sat with him as he ate his dinner.

We laughed and talked about our day. Then, we started making plans for the weekend and what we wanted to do. He just smiled… too tired to do much talking. The weather was supposed to be beautiful, so we wanted to do something on the water – either the boat or the kayaks. We finally decided on the kayaks since they were brand new (one of our Christmas presents to each other).

We always went to bed together, and that Friday was no exception. Bruce always made sure the house was locked up tight, and the bed was turned down. Then, he would always help me into bed and tuck me in before climbing into his side of the bed. I always turned out the light, then snuggled into his arms with my head on his chest and my legs wrapped in his… and that is how we slept.

I remember as we lay in the bed that night, I was worried about something. I couldn’t tell you what it was now – I don’t remember. But I can remember, him chuckling, kissing the top of my head, and telling me “not to worry – it would all be okay.”

That was our last night together… We never went kayaking that weekend… I never baked him another pie, and he never again fixed my car… We never sent another text to each other… or hugged and kissed goodbye… I never again ran across the room to welcome him home… And we never saw that sunrise together…

All of those “normal” moments were gone, because Bruce never woke up again… Instead my world came crashing down around me.

This is what I am remembering this week… The anniversary of our last week together and Bruce’s death. Yes, it has been seven years, but my heart still aches… Most of the time, it doesn’t feel real. Time has not taken away the hurt and grief. I have just learned how to manage it better…

This week is a tough one for me, and I am asking for your prayers, support and understanding, as I remember and allow myself to grieve for a little while.

What about you? Does any of this strike a chord with you? How do you handle the anniversary of your loved one’s death? Maybe your way of coping is different than mine… Or maybe you just want to share your story or your thoughts… There is no one right answer. Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

** Since this is a hard week for me and next Sunday is the actual anniversary of Bruce’s death, I will not post a blog next week. I am going to take some of my own advice and do a little self-care. I plan to spend the day in whatever way I need to, without an agenda or responsibilities. Please, take care of yourselves and know that I will be back the following week.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Celebrating Our Anniversary

This week held our anniversary. Rather than writing something new, I think the best words to describe how I feel are the ones I wrote to Bruce…

Hi Babe!

Happy Anniversary! Fourteen years… Wow! Today marks the date when I have celebrated just as many anniversaries alone as we did together… That feels really strange… I can’t even wrap my head around it.

Yesterday I woke up crying and had to fight the tears all day. Everything seemed to remind me of you, and the idea of celebrating alone… again… was just too much for this heart to bear. Plus, the weather has matched my mood – dark clouds and overcast all day yesterday and rain all night. This morning there has been a lot of dark clouds and drizzle with small breaks of sunshine… just like the way I am feeling – sad and crying, yet, so joyful to have experienced our love and wanting to celebrate that.

I went for a walk on the beach where your ashes were scattered, just to talk to you for a while. (Now, I am just sitting out here writing to you.) Sometimes it feels like you are right here beside me… I would swear I can hear you and almost feel your touch. But then, I look around, and I am all alone. Today, there is absolutely no one else out here… Just you and I. I suppose it is because of the weather, but it’s nice to be just the two of us.

The ocean is so wild today. There are so many waves, and they are crashing in on themselves in a fury… Maybe that is just a little bit of what I am feeling too.

I keep thinking of so many memories of us here on this beach… So many Sundays spent holding hands and watching the waves for hours. There was a magic here for us, that still lingers… I miss that… I miss you!

Sometimes I wonder if this “missing you” will ever stop. I wonder if my life will ever feel whole again. Or if I will always feel like the rudder is missing, and I am just drifting.

I truly can’t believe it’s been fourteen years since we were married. I’ll always remember that day… How nervous we both were to be doing this marriage thing again – something we had both sworn we would never do again. I remember the night before… I was terrified! I kept thinking about my first marriage – all the chaos and abuse… and how I had lost myself somewhere in the struggle to keep peace and just survive. The idea that it could happen again was terrifying!

I remember you holding me close and telling me we didn’t to get married… We could just be together… You told me that you loved me and that was that. We didn’t need a piece of paper or anyone else’s approval for that. Looking back, I think that was all I needed to hear – a reassurance that it was a choice, and you would always love me… either way.

I remember every moment of the next day. Going to the town where you grew up to eat lunch, buying our wedding champagne flutes to toast our big day, setting up for a mini-reception at the condo, getting dressed, going to the courthouse waiting what felt like forever for our turn with the judge, your Dad joking with us and trying to ease our nerves, our families being there to support us, and… the actual ceremony.

I remember holding your hands and looking into your eyes the entire time. (It was as if no one else were even there… Just the two of us in that moment.) You held my gaze and filled my heart with peace knowing this was right… That feeling has never left me.

Marrying you was the best decision I ever made, and I will celebrate this day for the rest of my life!

I love you, Babe – Always and Forever!
Me

What about you? How do you handle those special days of the year? Do you celebrate? Do you cry? Do you have mixed emotions? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts? Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Happy Anniversary

I felt you today.
I felt the warmth of your smile,
And it made me laugh.
Thank you!
~ Linda, January 2018

This week Bruce and I would have celebrated our 13th anniversary. This is always such a bitter sweet day for me… So blessed to have loved Bruce, and so grieved at his loss. Maybe it sounds a little crazy but those are my feelings, and they can be a bit hard to reconcile.

This was my sixth year celebrating our love without him, and I thought I would spend it like I usually do – sunrise at the beach, some writing time, lunch at his favorite seafood place, some time to reminisce and dinner at “our” restaurant. However, life had different plans. I did get to start my day watching the sunrise are our favorite beach (also where his ashes were scattered). I was also able to end the day at “our” restaurant… The one he found and surprised me with so many years ago. But, all the time in between, seemed to get filled up with other things this year. Mainly, household chores which had been put off while I was undergoing treatment and a leaky hot water heater. (Thankfully, the water heater waited to die until I got back home, so there is no damage.)

As I was watching the sunrise, I did manage to get a little bit of writing done, so that is what I plan to share today. My letter to Bruce, which he will never read… And yet, I believe, he heard every single word as I sat there and wrote it.

“Happy Anniversary, Babe! Wow! Today would be 13 years… It seems like just yesterday. I can still see your face – your eyes looking straight into mine as you held my hands in yours and promised to love me… always. Nothing has changed that… Even as I sit here watching the waves, I know somewhere out there you still love me… And I hang onto that. (Maybe more than I should, but then again, who’s to say – I know what I know, and I feel what I feel.)

The sunrise this morning was beautiful. I was like a show just for me (us)… There were clouds covering the eastern sky, so I really thought I wouldn’t see it. But, at just the exact moment, a hole broke in the bottom of the cloud bank… just enough (and in the precise spot) so I could see the sun rise after all. There is a part of me that believes you did that for me. So, thank you!

I think I needed that… I need to know you’re still here. I haven’t felt you as much lately… There aren’t as many signs, which has made this year that much harder. In fact, doing this whole cancer thing without you has been hard. Everyone keeps telling me how great I’m doing and how strong and tough I am. But I don’t feel strong and tough. And as for the “great” part – it is as much “fake it till you make it” as anything else.

It’s actually more like when you died… I don’t feel strong at all. In fact, I’ve been really scared. But I did what I had to do because there wasn’t another (rational) choice. Just like when Matthew died or when I went through my divorce, loss has never been a “Oh, I am ready for this – bring it on” kind of thing – like the heroine of a story. (I wish it were that simple.) NO! It is more of a “Oh crap – What do I do now?”

Then, I take one step at a time – and only focus on the step I need to take in that moment. Anything else – focusing behind me or too far in front – becomes overwhelming.

And through all of these losses, (even before I knew you), I believe I missed you. Before I knew you, I missed being loved – truly loved and how that love can see you through the rough times. Then once I knew your love and lost it, I missed it even more, because I knew what I was missing.

Today is a day to remember that love… To remember a time when both of us were so sure of our love that we were willing to do whatever it took to be together. We were so sure of our future together… We had no idea how short our time together would be… But it was… We blinked, and it was over.

So, here I am, celebrating #13 alone… my sixth time celebrating “us” alone. It’s comforting know you are somewhere out there waiting for me…
I miss you! I love you so much! Thank you, Babe, for loving me… Thank you for marrying me… And thank you for waiting for me… I am yours – always and forever!”

I have learned to laugh again.
I have learned to find joy in the quiet moments spent with those I love.
But it still hurts.
I think it will probably always hurt…
Simply because you aren’t here.
~ Linda, January 2018

What about you? Does any of this strike a chord with you? How do you handle anniversaries of special times together? How did you handle those bittersweet days when your feelings don’t seem to be able to reconcile with each other? Maybe you have found a different way to cope… There is no one right answer. Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… The Worst Day of the Year

I hate today.
With all my soul, it is a day I wish had never happened.
But it did happen.
And now I remember every moment.
Like a movie on a loop,
It plays over and over in my mind
Until each horrible detail is imprinted there.
Most days I force myself to think of other days.
Days spent at the beach or on the boat.
Moments spent dancing barefoot in the kitchen
Or snuggling in each other’s arms sharing intimate conversations.
Those are the days I love…
Those are the days I want to always remember…
Not this one…
~ Linda, January 2018

This week held the worst day of the year for me… the anniversary of Bruce’s death. In keeping with my 2018 mantra of Self-love and Self-care, I made the decision to do something different this year.

In the past, I started the day watching the sunrise at “our” beach with flowers, prayers and a toast to the life of a great man… the man I love! I have lunch and dinner at his favorite spots. In the afternoon, I hung new prayer flags on the back porch… a tradition I still love. (Each flag is painted by hand and represents something about Bruce. Throughout the year as the wind blows, the good will in each flag is spread throughout the world until each flag either disintegrates from the elements or is carried off on the wind.) Then each year, I ended the day with a Jimmy Buffet dance party… and in my mind Bruce was always there, too.

I still love these ways of honoring Bruce… They are meaningful and beautiful! However, as this year’s anniversary approached, I realized last year’s flags are still in good shape, so I didn’t want to replace them. Plus, my mantra for the year is about Self-love and Self-care. So, I decided to do something different… something to honor not only Bruce, but our relationship and our shared passion…

Bruce and I loved to travel… It was how we met, traveling in the Virgin Islands over the Christmas holidays in 2004. However, since he died, the only traveling I have done has either been for work or with/to family. While I never lost that urge to see the world, somewhere along the line, I convinced myself I couldn’t do it alone. This year, though, I decided to pick those dreams back up and go… And I can’t think of a better way to honor Bruce… and us.

Since his ashes were spread in the ocean five years ago, I figure I can find him on any beach anywhere in the world. Admittedly, I haven’t gone far this year (just a few hours south). But this is a new place I’ve never seen before this weekend… So, it is still a new adventure (for us)!

As I drove into town, the expected rain for the day was actually beautiful sunshine. I made a quick stop for flowers and beer before heading to the waterfront tiki-bar/restaurant for lunch. (Thankfully, eating out alone is something I forced myself to do almost immediately after Bruce passed. So, now it doesn’t feel awkward at all.) The water was beautiful, and the meal was great! I toasted Bruce with a Mojito (one of his favorites). Then as I sat there, I wrote him a letter to go with the flowers and beer.

Hi Babe!

I can’t believe it has been 5 years! Good grief! I will always remember that night like it was yesterday… I miss you so much. I keep trying to move forward, but it is hard. I still want to share every little thing with you – every accomplishment, every “awe” moment, every smile and every tear… but that isn’t meant to be. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why.

This year I decided to change gears, be brave and do something new… In some way to honor not just you, but us! We always loved to travel. It is how we met and what we loved to do – new adventures!

Up until now, all my travels (since you died) have been for others (work or family). But I decided to start traveling for us. I still want to see the world… and I know you are by my side. : ) I can’t hide from the world forever, and knowing you are with me makes me braver. Thanks!

I have been so sad this week as today got closer… I hate January 12… It’s a truly sh**ty (sorry) day… I do still wish you were here… to see your smile and hold your hand one more time would be the best gift ever! I know one day we will be together again… Our hearts are too connected for anything else. Until then, I will miss you…

Thank you for loving me when were here, and thank you for still loving me now. I pray you know I will always love you! You will always have my heart! Always and forever!
Me
xxxooo

After lunch, I headed straight to the beach, where I “gave” Bruce the beer, flowers and letter. Then, I just sat there talking to him, writing… and crying. It was my time to let go and grieve out loud for a bit. (Life just seems too busy these days for much of that.) More than an hour passed before that promised rain finally came, sending me to the shelter of the hotel. But that wasn’t all… I ended the day the way I always have… A little wine, a little Buffet, a little dance party, a few smiles… and a few tears.

Overall, it was a beautiful day. I don’t regret my choice to do something different, at all. In fact, it felt so right, I know I will be doing this more often. After all, grief shouldn’t just be about the tears…

For me, it must also include continuing to do those things Bruce and I loved doing together… Then, I can remember the smiles…

“Love yourself and love your life; it’s the only one you have.” ~ Joyce Meyer, Good Health, Good Life

For each of us dealing with loss, the anniversary of that loss is something we must deal with year after year. While nothing will ever make the loss of Bruce easier to handle, this year’s anniversary was cathartic and peace-filled… And I guess I can’t ask for more than that. My hope in sharing my day is to share an alternative to the normal grieving process we so easily find ourselves in. I know I am not the only one… We are all dealing with some extremely intense, emotional stuff, and none of us needs to handle this alone. Learning to navigate this journey is different for each of us. It brings its individual challenges and lessons. Through it we come to realize we are stronger than we thought we were. If any of this feels familiar, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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… Facing the anniversary of “that” day

Some days the pain is so great.
Some days it is too much.
But still I must put a smile on my face
And walk out to face the world.
I must pretend all is well.
But inside…
The pain is too much…
Too much…
~ Linda, Sept 2013

This week I am struggling. I can feel myself spiraling downward. In just a few short days, it will be “that day.” The anniversary of the day Bruce died… The day my world imploded in one quick moment. Already, I find myself feeling like I have been thrown back four years. All the pain and loneliness closing in, and I have no place “safe” to go…

I can still remember that night like it was yesterday… Waking up to find Bruce struggling to breathe… calling 911… doing CPR on the man I love terrified by what was happening. I remember the doctor coming in to tell me Bruce was gone… spending time with Bruce as we waiting for the medical examiner – touching him and begging him to open his eyes. I remember that last kiss good-bye that he never felt. I remember going home to an empty house and making phone calls to family and friends… But most of all, I remember being alone… totally and completely alone.

Here I am four years later, and despite having family here, when it comes to my grief and this week’s journey, I still feel completely alone. It’s no one’s fault, except maybe my own… the closer I get to “that” date, the more I find myself pulling inward and away from everyone around me.

I don’t want to face this anniversary again. I don’t want to “do” another year without Bruce!

Last night I had a dream… I dreamed Bruce and I were on the beach. It was beautiful, and we were so happy. Then, suddenly he was just gone! I kept looking everywhere for him. I was crying and felt so desperate, but he was nowhere to be found. I kept thinking I saw him. But each time when I touched the person and they turned to face me,… it wasn’t him. Then, my daughter appeared and started helping me look. She kept saying it would be okay… We would find him… But we didn’t – He was gone… I was completely devastated and woke up in tears.

Life in its cruelty
Gives us a gift of love,
But along with it
Comes an hourglass
Counting down the moments until it is gone.
~ Linda, Sept 2013

I know I am spiraling down this week. Nowadays I don’t usually give myself this much space to grieve, but this week I need it. However, I am walking a fine line because I also need to keep my head above water… and that is hard.

Earlier this week, my grandson and I were having a conversation. He was telling me that he was praying for something specific for his Mommy. I struggled here, not wanting him to think of God as a magic genie or to be disappointed if the answer to that prayer is “no.” I tried to explain that God’s answer may be “no,” but we need to have faith that he has something better in store. We need to ask, but then we need to let go and be willing to accept something different… something better in the long run.

But, here was my struggle with the whole conversation… It has been four long years since I lost Bruce. I have worked through a lot of emotions. I have been angry with God and made my peace… Yet, in spite of all I “know,” in spite of all my “good” days, I still grieve for Bruce at some point every day. He brought so much good and happiness into my world, and I miss him. I still want him back… So, do I trust that there is something “better” in store? Do I believe the very thing I am telling my grandson to believe?

I want to… but if I am honest, I don’t know…

I believe God (the universe or whatever name you choose to use) loves me. I believe there is some good to be found even in this loss… I have learned to be stronger that I ever thought possible. I have learned a lot about who I am as a person and my desire to serve others. I have struggled with my faith and came out on the other side with a much stronger faith that is completely mine. I have learned to be more accepting of others, their beliefs and their struggles. I have learned that people are what are truly important in this world… not just some of us, but all of us. I know that until we learn to love and respect each other and all our differences, this world will never find peace.

I guess I am saying, in the quiet of the last four years, I have been reflecting… and growing and changing… which is good. But, I learned all this at what cost? Did I really have to lose Bruce to learn these lessons? That is the part I struggle with… The idea that I don’t know… In fact, I’ll never know…

I just know I am sad this week… more so than usual. It will be four years on Thursday, and no matter what I have learned or what good I can find, I do know I would give it all back to have Bruce back again.

Another year alone;
A year of tears;
A year where no one cares.

Another year of smiling when I feel like crying.
A year of telling everyone it’s all okay.
A year when I feel abandoned.

Another year of going to bed alone.
A year of coming home to nothing.
A year without hugs or smiles.

Another year without love.
A year without laughter.
A year without you, Babe…
It feels like a lifetime.
~ Linda, Jan 2014

What about you? What have been your struggles when “that” anniversary approaches? Have you been able to find the good? Would you say the price of that “good” was too high? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Happy anniversary… Then and now…

Note: This week I celebrated my and Bruce’s wedding anniversary. Instead of my regular style blog, I thought I would simply share my thoughts and celebration from that day… Hopefully, you can relate to some part of it…

This morning I woke up half crying and half excited… It is a weird feeling. All week I have been listening to some of our favorite music, and the memories have been flooding back… each one bringing a smile that just as quickly turns to tears.

Some of the memories I have not thought about for years. Yet, they almost surprise me with the vividness of colors, smells and emotions… The distinct memories of looking into Bruce’s gentle eyes and always seeing nothing but love.

Remembering everything from the first moment until the last… The way he would tilt his head and smile when he was up to no good, or how he would always reach out to touch me whenever we were close. The way he would come up from behind, hug me and kiss that special spot on the side of my neck, and then peek over my shoulder to see what I was doing… Which by that point my legs had turned to jello, and I was usually melting into his hug.

I remember the day we were married… Going out to lunch together, but both of us were too nervous and excited to eat anything. Then, heading back home to get ready. I remember waiting our turn at the courthouse… Bruce was so anxious (and so was I to be honest). He kept going and checking to see “how much longer” while his Dad tried to lighten the mood by making us all laugh. Then at 3:45 PM, it was finally our turn… It all happened so fast! Afterward, we were both so happy we couldn’t let go of each other. Even at dinner, we both held on to each other… and simply smiled.

I remember sitting with Bruce and gazing into the fire… so excited about everything our future had to offer simply because we were together…

I remember each and every anniversary through the years. Bruce always had a way of making each one special…

Move ahead to this year… Despite what others may think, I still take the day off… I still celebrate our love… Only now, I do it alone…

Hi Babe! Happy anniversary… #11. Wow! My third without you…My third filled with tears. I thought our “happily ever after” would really be forever… but here I am… alone – without you. All week I’ve been listening to Kenny Chesney’s Blue Rocking Chair CD. Remember that one? We both bought it when we came back from the islands after we met. It reminded us both of that magical week. : ) … It still does. All week, I’ve been remembering so many precious, precious moments from our short time together… (I’d give anything to start over and do it all again)… I miss us!

I remember our first conversation on the boat at the bar, our first kiss at Duffy’s Love Shack (when you said I should have slapped you!), my first trip to Michigan and yours to SC, your proposal on the tower at our beach, the move to Michigan (when my youngest was so angry with us both) and our wedding day… You planned every detail, and it was perfect! Just a few of the people we love and us… champagne and nibbles at the condo. Then, dinner at Timbers. You even made sure we had a table by the fire (especially for me). I remember the two of us just sitting there gazing into the fire, unable to let go of each other – not quite able to believe we were really married… no more good-byes… or so we thought.

Our years together were so beautiful. I still can’t believe it ended so soon. I have to be careful how much I let myself dwell on it, because it can still bring me down. It still makes me so angry that you’re gone. Damn it! It’s not right! You’re supposed to be here… beside me… holding me… loving me. I still miss you so much. It’s almost been four years apart. How can that be? How can my heart still be so attached to yours? I love you… always and forever, Babe!
~ Linda’s journal, November 2016

I started the morning with Bruce watching the sunrise over the very beach where we spent so much time and where his ashes were scattered. The sunrise was the most beautiful I have ever seen. There was every shade of orange, yellow, pink, red and purple… It was impossible to tell where the sky ended and the ocean began… Such a magical way to start the day together. I brought Bruce some roses, rum : ) and a card. (Yes, I still do all the “normal” anniversary things.) It took me a quite a while to find just the right card, but I finally did… It read, “There’s nothing I’ll ever want more than another year of you… Unless it’s another year of us.” (So true!)

Inside the card, I wrote, “… I would give anything for another moment with you… You are always on my mind… Thank you for the gift of fun, laughter, great conversations, acceptance… and especially your love! That is a gift I will always treasure…”

I spent the rest of the day celebrating and remembering… I went to our favorite restaurant for lunch. In fact, this has become such a tradition that the staff always remembers me and makes it such a special meal. They always manage to find that perfect balance between leaving me to my memories and spending time with me so I don’t feel abandoned or completely alone.

For dinner, I had the special honor of celebrating with our grandson at one of Bruce’s favorite seafood spots in town. Then, to end the day… a bit of champagne and a Jimmy Buffet dance party. This seems to have become a tradition to every “Bruce” celebration, but I should probably explain this part a little…

Bruce and I have so many fun memories of parrothead tailgating and concerts… But my sweetest memories are of coming home in mid-winter to find the heat turned up, Bruce in his swim trunks, island concoctions made and Jimmy Buffet playing on the stereo. Then, the rest of the night would be spent dancing barefoot in the kitchen, laughing and simply loving life…

This is the man I love… this is the love we share… and… This is how I celebrated that love this year…

Happy anniversary, Babe! I can’t wait to feel your arms around me again one day… I love you… always and forever!

What about you? How do you celebrate those special days in your life now? Or do you need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Facing another anniversary and I still remember…

I thought we had forever…
I never knew we were counting down
from the day we met.
~ Linda, Sept. 26, 2013

As I approach this weekend, I find myself in tears. I have fought it all week, but now it is time to let myself feel what I feel.

On Tuesday, January 12, it will be 3 years… Three years since my worse nightmare came true…

January 11, 2013 was a Friday. It will be forever ingrained in my mind. I got home late, and Bruce was even later. As a truck driver, he often worked 12 – 14 hour days. However, given his occupation, we were both thankful that he was a “local” driver and home every night.

That Friday he had left for work around 5 AM and returned home around 8 PM. I had already eaten, (Chicken Lo Mein, which I still do not eat to this day), but I sat with him as he ate the dinner he had picked up on his way home. We talked about the upcoming weekend and what we wanted to do… go to the beach, use the kayaks, or go out on the boat… It really didn’t matter as long as we were together and near the water.

I remember Bruce laughing and saying, “Whatever we do is fine with me… We could just see where the day takes us.”

That night we did our usual bedtime routine, kissed goodnight and snuggled up to sleep in each other’s arms. A few short hours later, it happened… I woke up around 1 AM to a strange noise. Bruce sounded like he was snoring but more than that… like he was having trouble breathing. I remember shaking him and shouting, “Wake up, Babe. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”

But he didn’t wake up. Instead, he seized up and then stopped breathing.

“No!” I thought. “This can’t be. This must be a dream. This can’t really be happening.” It was all so surreal.

I remember calling 911. I remember talking to the 911 operator, while trying to get dressed, unlock the door for the EMS crew, struggling to put something solid under Bruce so I could perform CPR, counting while doing compressions and the EMS team arriving. I remember watching as they continued the CPR, used the “paddles,” injected him with an epi-pen directly into his heart. I remember the line on the monitor staying flat no matter what they tried. I remember standing to the side watching all of that… and I remember thinking repeatedly, “This can’t be real. This isn’t happening. I need to wake up. I need to make this dream stop.”

But I wasn’t dreaming. Instead, it was all just the beginning of an absolute nightmare.

I remember a pastor coming in to “console” me and saying, “Just think of it as someone hit the ‘delete’ button on Bruce.” I remember that same pastor and the police officer, who had driven me to the hospital, talking about football over my head as I cried. There I was crying and lost because my husband had just died in my arms, and they were talking about a football game. I remember wanting them to leave but not knowing how to tell them.

I remember the nurse handing me Bruce’s wedding band “for safe keeping.” I remember being allowed some time to “say good-by.” I remember stroking his hair and his cheeks. I remember thinking he was going to open his eyes at any minute and say, “Gotcha.” But he didn’t. Instead, I remember squeezing his toes as I left the room, something I had always done when I walked past his lounger at home… and I remember kissing his cheek and saying, “I love you, babe. I will always love you… and until I see you again – Good-by.”

I remember the ride home in the same police car and thinking, “I’m alone… From now on, I will always be alone.” I wasn’t crying at that point… I was in such shock. I remember making phone calls (at 3:30 in the morning). I remember Bruce’s Mom crying out in pain and disbelief when I told her. Calls like that one are permanently fixed in my memory, while I do not even remember making others. However, I do remember the shock in each voice as I relayed the news that Bruce… My Bruce was dead. He was gone.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine at that point what that really meant.

I remember cleaning the house because everyone would be coming. I remember trying to clean the bed where he had died. I remember making lists, although I don’t remember what they were. Most of all, I remember thinking, “This can’t be real. This space… this house is ours. You can’t be gone! Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me here alone!”

But it was real… he was gone… I was alone.

I have spent 3 years (on Tuesday) coming to terms with that reality. Some days are better than others. I am working on my perspective and attitude. I know that what I choose to see in life is what I will see. However, I won’t lie. It is hard. I make myself get up each morning and say “thank you” for a new day. However, I also will be thankful when the time comes, and I am with Bruce again. (Not trying to upset anyone or insinuate anything – just an honest widow’s statement.)

So what will I do on Tuesday? Well, this will be my first year facing this anniversary by myself. I won’t say alone because there are a lot of people also grieving for Bruce. There are also a lot of people who have offered their support if I need them, and for that I am endlessly thankful.

My plan for Tuesday is similar to last year, and I am sure I will share it next week. But for today… tonight… and probably the next few days, I will be reliving our last few days together (especially that night) over and over…

and still wishing this was just a very bad dream…

and still praying I will wake up with Bruce next to me… holding me…

the way I remember.

Each morning I awaken
And I am reminded all over
That you are gone.
I call out to you…
Sometimes in only a whisper.
And I still feel your soul respond to mine…
~ Linda, March 22, 2015

For anyone dealing with loss, the anniversary of that loss is something we must endure year after year. I don’t know if it ever gets easier. So far, for me it is still just as painful… the tears and grief, just as strong.

Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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