changes – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Looking Back or Moving Forward

“Hope is the expectation of future good and is often impacted by time, but you are the one controlling the process.” ~ The Sweetest Christmas: Advent 2023, December 4, 2023

I missed writing last week as I was celebrating the holiday with my family… Not all of my family, but most of them, including my daughter and her husband, from across the pond. It has been well over a decade since I shared this holiday with my daughter, and I have never shared it with them as a couple. So, this time, this year has held so much joy and love, and I am trying to take it all in and hold onto these precious memories being made… Because we all know that another year… day… or moment is not promised.

Then, this week, as we have moved closer to the new year, my mind has also moved on to “what is next”…

Years ago, when Bruce first passed away, I didn’t want to think about what lay ahead. All I could see ahead of me were years and years of being without Bruce… Years and years of not seeing his gentle eyes or mischievous grin… Years and years of not hearing him say he loves me or holding me in the middle of the night… Years and years spent alone.

And each time I thought of all those future years “without”, that was all I could see. My whole outlook was one of scarcity… I couldn’t see or even remotely imagine living my life without Bruce, much less learning to feel any kind of hope or joy in that future.

Through the years that have followed, I have slowly… very slowly learned to find happiness… then joy… and peace… And this year, I finally found hope again. It wasn’t easy and it didn’t happen overnight. Instead, it was an ideology that was presented to me early in the year. The crazy thing is it wasn’t even a new idea to me. It is one I heard before but didn’t quite know how to implement. Maybe it was the timing, or maybe I was simply “ready” … Maybe it was due to the support I have felt in my life this year.

What I heard years ago was from Wayne Dyer – “Change the way you look at things and the things you look at change.” Which is a great quote, and I understand the point. However, at the time, I couldn’t figure out how to act on it. I would try, but I struggled for consistency… My thoughts seemed to always wander back down the rabbit hole of grief and loneliness.

This year, though, I heard it worded a bit different … It was worded in a way that left me feeling empowered. I don’t know why; I know we are each inspired or triggered by certain words, so I am guessing I needed something more succinct… Maybe? Who knows?

The phrase is “Our thoughts create our experiences”. For whatever the reason, this simple phrasing has felt easier to act upon. I do believe that my thoughts will color whatever is happening in my world. If I am having a rough day, it is easy to only see the things that go wrong. Yet, when I am having a good day, the opposite happens, and I seem to only see the blessings happening around me.

Since Bruce died, I have struggled with depression and grief. Those emotions colored everything. Even the joy and hope I might have felt was covered in the grayness of depression and grief. As the years passed, I learned that I had to watch how far I allowed myself to go down the rabbit hole, but I hadn’t quite wrapped my mind around changing my thoughts… Until this year.

This idea that my happiness… my joy… my peace… my hope… my entire attitude is what will actually create the way I experience my future has been eye-opening. When I hear someone say to let go of those things that aren’t serving me, I know that those things are not people or situations. Instead, it is my attitude toward those people or situations.

To help me move the dial on those thoughts, I have reached out for support from friends and family, as well as, going through some serious therapy for past traumas, such as Bruce’s death. Has my whole world changed overnight? Am I now happy-go-lucky all the time? No and no…

First of all, just building the habit of being aware of my thoughts and where I am letting them lead me has been a process. It still is… I am better at it than I was 11 months ago. Yet, I believe this will always be something I need to monitor.

Second, I don’t think it is about being “happy-go-lucky” all the time. That isn’t my goal, and it isn’t healthy either. (In fact, I think that can easily be a toxic positivity.) Instead, I think it is about being honest about your feelings and thoughts, but instead of letting them run rampant, I need to acknowledge and work through them before they take over and color everything in my world.

This year has also offered plenty of opportunities for me to practice this new way of living. There has been plenty of loss… plenty of hurt. Have I gotten it right each time? No. Have I gotten a little better each time? Yes… and that is my goal… to stop being stuck looking back, and instead to keep finding the hope in each situation… to keep moving forward… even if it is teeny, tiny baby steps.

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. 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.

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

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Peace, Love, and Grief… Who I Am

Before I start today, I just wanted to do a real quick follow-up to last week’s blog… Wednesday evening, while driving home, I looked up and directly to my left was the biggest, most vibrant rainbow with another fainter one right next to it. Since this week has been filled with both emotional “sunshine” and “rain” (with tears consistently watering my eyes), I couldn’t help but smile. This is life – the good and the bad, the positive and the negative… It takes all the things to make a full life, and I really needed that rainbow to remind me of just how beautiful the tapestry of my life really is. (Just wanted to share that little story.)

Today, though, I want to talk about us – you and me… those of us who were left behind when the person we love died…

If you have ever been in therapy, then you know that you will spend a lot of time looking at and evaluating oneself… That’s kind of the point, right? Well, this week, I was delving into the idea of “who am I?” and how that can (and does) change throughout our lifetime. I found myself contemplating the idea that there are a lot of factors that can (and often will) spur those changes.

One of these factors is trauma… After all, most life lessons are found in the hard things… And depending on how we manage those lessons and the aftermath, the changes that occur may be good, or they may make our life even harder… I hate to admit it, but how that goes is really up to us – up to each individual.

For example, there were things that happened in my childhood. I can’t really say it “trauma”, but that was how my childish brain experienced and processed it. However, our family didn’t talk about stuff like that. It just wasn’t considered polite to have those hard conversations, especially between a child and an adult. Instead, we avoided them. (Again, remember, I am speaking out of what I remember and processed as a child. This is not a judgement on how I was raised.) As a consequence, I didn’t learn this particular communication skill, and as an adult, I have always struggled with those hard conversations or any communication around difficult topics.

That has become a part of who I am currently, but not who I am destined to continue being… See what I mean? I can change that inner quality if I choose to work on it… (which I have been, in case you wondered).

In other words, who we are within any situation shapes how we experience it, and our experiences turn around and reshape who we are. Also, while those experiences will always be in our memories, we can still reshape those memories or learn to look at those experiences in a different way – a way that allows us to grow.

For me, I experienced the chaos of my first marriage from the perspective of fear and self-doubt. As the years passed, those were the emotions that grew… So, those became the emotions that other people saw in me… Those became my dominant inner characteristics. However, they weren’t written into my DNA… They weren’t really me… Deep down, I knew there was so much more to who I am.

Honestly, it took me hitting rock bottom…It took me realizing that I didn’t care if I went to hell for divorcing, because in my experience at that point in time, my kids and I were already living in hell. That is what it took for me to decide to get strong, face my fears… and (ultimately) leave.

So, let’s talk about inner quality changes… In the three years it took to get divorced, I got help. I worked with a therapist and started to regain and embrace the part of me that believed in myself. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but during those three years, the patterns and behaviors that had led us to that point got progressively worse. My ex played all kinds of games – stalling, stalking, threatening, pretty much anything to make the process just that much more difficult. Admittedly, there were days when I fell back on those old characteristics, but there were more days when I relied on my newfound inner strength and determination – despite the terror I felt with each step forward.

Then, when Bruce and I got together, he saw things in me that I didn’t even know were there. With his support and love, I continued to change and grow. Over time, I started to drop the fear and self-doubt and replace them with confidence and determination.

Then, the worst happened. Bruce died… literally in my arms… I can’t even begin to explain the trauma of trying to save the person you love from death… and failing.

Every bit of ground that I had gained over our years together disappeared when he took his last breath… I lost it… I lost all of it, (plus a little bit more). I am pretty sure I spent the first year or two in complete shock… It wasn’t long before all the self-doubt and fear returned, and I imploded… Unable to bear the thought of what life might throw my way next, I became a bit of a recluse, which only made things worse.

However, I did seek help again, and over time, I very slowly began to do the hard work to get better…

Then, this year happened. I’m not in a place to give any details. (It isn’t my story only, and I am still praying that things will get better.) However, the losses I have experienced this year have once again rocked me to my core.

The beginning of the year found me on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Thankfully, though, my therapist is good, and my God is even better! My self-loathing and self-doubt were through the roof. Yet, the few people with insight in this situation gathered around me, and despite everything else going on, I felt loved. I knew that this time, I wasn’t alone.

While it has taken many months, I have worked hard (with all of their support) and am doing okay. I have learned a lot about trauma – what it does to our brains, what it does to our psyche, what it does to us… It really does change us – even physically! Did you know that? I didn’t! Trauma actually creates changes in our brains and in our chemical make-up… Some of these are reversable, and others… well… we’ll see.

Here’s what I do know… Bruce believed in me, and the qualities he saw in me were there back then and are still in me now. I don’t need to remind myself that I am “good enough” … Instead, I need to remind myself that “I am good (period).” It’s okay if I cry and feel sad sometimes, as long as I turn around and remember that I really am loved… I do belong in this world…

I believe this journey of healing and recovery was made harder by Bruce’s death. It is a hard path to navigate alone. I would would give anything to have him here to help build me up on those days when I just can’t… And for me to do the same for him… I miss that… But… because he believed in me, I can too… Because he saw so many good qualities in me, I can too… Because he loved me… yep… I can too.

Bruce used to always say that what we do – our role in life – isn’t who we are. It is only a small part of what helps us become who we are… Such wise words… I have been focusing on those words a lot lately as I continue to evaluate who I am… My role through the years has changed many times – throughout both marriages, after my divorce, after Bruce died, and even now… Yet, that isn’t who I am… None of those roles are who I am… And I think Bruce would be proud of me because I am finally starting to believe that I am so much more than any of those… I am growing each day… And (surprisingly) I think I like who I am becoming…
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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.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Changes in Grief and Mourning

Grief and mourning… Years ago, I would have told you these two words were synonymous, but I would have been wrong. After spending time on my own grief journey, I would now say that grief is the emotion and mourning is how that grief is expressed.

I still grieve for Bruce, but I can’t say I still actively mourn his death. Sure, there are still tears at times, (when I am alone), and this blog is definitely a way of expressing my grief. However, I’m not actively mourning 24/7. Most people I meet have no idea I am a widow or who Bruce is. (That usually comes up later, IF we become friends.)

In the beginning, I did all the things… For example, I wore black for the first 6 months. (That is until I realized the color was no longer an expression of my feelings but instead was affecting my feelings.) I cried… a lot. (In fact, I wore sunglasses indoors as much as out because I didn’t want people to see my constant tears.) I even skipped the holidays that first year, because I couldn’t bear the thought of celebrating anything without Bruce here to celebrate too.

While I thought my life had ended when Bruce’s did, what I soon learned was that loss was not the end of the story. Instead, it was simply the start of another one. For me, loss became that thing that divided my life in half – everything before the loss vs everything that came after. There was the “before” me that was too naïve to realize how much this loss would take from me vs the “after” me that now lives completely aware of how painful tragedy can be and how precious every moment truly is with those we love.

I guess what I am saying is that the loss of Bruce changed me… the grief… the mourning… all of that quickly became a part of who I am. In the beginning, those changes brought me down… My mourning was deep, and it was physical. There was no way to spend any amount of time with me and not know I was grieving.

I was so angry and emotional all the time. There seemed to be triggers all around me that could set me off on a crying jaunt at any moment… Everything seemed to make me cry, and the pain felt never-ending.

“It <was> so dang unfair. Even worse, it <was> so dang unchangeable… But the griever knows they can’t go back in time. So, healing feels impossible, because circumstances feel unchangeable.” ~ Lysa Terkeurst, Forgiving What You Can’t Forget

I stayed in that mode for a long time. It seemed to seep into every part of my world, and the craziest part is that I had no idea how to change that or if I even wanted to change that. It almost felt like a betrayal to Bruce to feel any other way.

But thankfully, life didn’t give up on me, (and neither did the people who love me).

Years have passed, and I still grieve the loss of my husband. However, I can also say that I am slowly working to express that grief… to mourn, if you will, in a more productive way. I am trying to take the lessons learned by his loss, and use them to make my life going forward, a better one.

For example, one of the greatest lessons I learned when I lost Bruce is just exactly how precious life is. Our time with our loved ones is measured. It will not last forever. At first, this reality found me pulling back. After all, if I wasn’t too close to anyone, it wouldn’t hurt nearly so bad when they were gone. But that was not sustainable – not for me, anyway. I love who I love… I want to love who I love. In fact, I want to soak in as much love as I possibly can… while I can.

That reality led me to start one-on-one trips with each of my kids this year. Yes, they are adults. Yes, they have lives and families of their own. Yet… they will always be my kids, and I know our time together will not always be. This newest tradition allows me to get to know them better, especially now that they are adults. It allows us to reconnect without the responsibilities of family and home. We have been able to simply have fun and laugh, as well as, have late night heart-to-heart conversations – tears and all. (This has been life changing for me, and I wish I had started doing this sooner!)

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I know I am still grieving. My hope, though, is that my mourning… my expression of that grief is becoming something more positive… I want to think that now it is something that just might put a little bit more love back into this world, despite my initial grief making me feel like all of the love was gone. I hope that now it is something that involves more smiles than tears… Something that builds up and brings hope… Something that Bruce would even be proud of, too….
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This journey isn’t easy… not that you need me to tell you that. Loss can be traumatic, and the grief and life we are left to figure out is hard. Thankfully, though, there are moments and actions we can take to refresh our souls – 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 these 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… Being Hopeful

“Sometimes you have to let go of the picture of what you thought it would be like and learn to find joy in the story you are actually living.” ~ Rachel Marie Martin

Sometimes I think this is what the grief journey is really all about… Letting go of what was and what was supposed to be and finding joy in what is. We all change and grow throughout our lives, or at least, we are supposed to. But for most of us, those changes are slow… they happen over time. This gives us a chance to adapt as we move forward, and it gives those around us time to adapt to the changes in us as well.

The problem with losing a loved one is that the change happens fast… real fast… like “in-a-moment” fast. We have no time to adapt… And if we are struggling with the change, no wonder those around us struggle at the changes in us too. We want things to be as they were. They want us to be as we were. However, neither of those things are possible anymore… Our lives are forever changed, and so are we.

After Bruce died, I think one of the biggest adjustments was that my “person” was no longer here. In a healthy relationship, the other partner becomes our priority. It was no different for Bruce and me. I was his priority, and he was mine. We were always looking out for the other – putting them first, building them up, looking out for what could make their world a little bit better. But the moment he died, I lost that. My “person” was no longer here. I had no one to be my priority, and I was no longer the priority in anyone else’s world. No matter who… no matter what…

Logically, I knew this was just the way life would be. I understand it (logically). It’s a little harder when it is played out, though. It’s odd, I guess. I can’t say that I was a priority to anyone before Bruce. At that time, though, it was okay. That was just life… I didn’t know any different. But then when Bruce came along, and I learned and experienced a love that was totally committed. That was such a new and different experience for me. I really did feel like I had walked into a fairy tale, and we would live “happily ever after.”

When that didn’t happen, I struggled just to “be” … just to exist…

Several months after he died, I started working with a life coach. I can’t say we really worked on my grief. Instead, we worked on how to live life again… At the time, I was just trying to survive. To get up each day and do the things life required of me. She taught how to be not only a functioning human but to look for the joy in each day and each moment. It started with a whole conversation about “be-ing” – about movement and change that is a part of life. An understanding that we are human “be-ings” – meaning our calling is to “be” … to grow… to move forward… She taught me to look at the things happening around me, and to lean into those moments that bring me joy in order to sustain me through the harder moments.

For the most part, I think I do pretty well… This time of year, though, is a little bit harder. Now, add onto to that the fact that this is my first holiday season alone again in years – not necessarily a bad thing, but it adds a few challenges to my thought processes. This Advent season, I find myself needing to work just a little bit harder to hang onto those joy-filled moments. Otherwise, I don’t know how I would get through some of the lonelier times.

In my Advent readings this year, the author has talked a lot about hope, which makes sense. That’s what Advent is – a time of hope… a time of waiting for something better to come. This, I guess, is my current struggle, because in the moment when I became a widow all of my hope was gone. I have had the best – Bruce, and after all these years, I don’t really know how to hope anymore… but I want to…

Over the years, I have learned to feel joyful again… It was tough, and it took time, but I did it. Now, I really want to find hope again. Be-ing a widow may have stolen my hope in the beginning, but that doesn’t mean I can’t find it again. It doesn’t mean I need to spend the rest of my life feeling the best has already happened… And so that has become my goal… To let go of past expectations, and to learn how to have hope again.

Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone… and this time of 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. Life is now filled with challenges I 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. These next few weeks will hold many challenges for me, but my goal is to look for the joy and the hope life holds.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Surprises and Changes

Well, it looks like I did it again… I missed another week. I am so sorry…

It just seems like life lately has doubled its speed, and I am struggling to keep up. Can you relate at all?

In the last month, I have helped my daughter and grandson move, we had a wedding, and last week, I had all of my floors replaced. I don’t know what I was thinking, because this meant moving over 90% of my belongings into the garage (including toilets – which is a whole other story) … and back in (which I am still working on). Of course, part this process has also meant cleaning out and getting rid of things I don’t need or want any more. Bringing that stuff back into the house seemed pointless, but of course, it also meant a slower process. Of course, all of this has resulted in more space to work with so most things are not going back where they used to be… I know I will be happy when it is done, but the whole experience is one I don’t want to ever repeat again in this lifetime. LOL!

So… this cleaning out process… most things that I have let go have been no problem, but there have been a few things that required some thought… They required choices… And some of those choices were ones I wasn’t even thinking about making when this process started.

The biggest choice had to do with Bruce’s old dresser… Not the dresser itself but the memorial to him that I started right after he died and have added to bit by bit over the years. It consisted of his school yearbooks and awards, pictures (of course), his karate black belt, some Jimmy Buffet memorabilia, his favorite cap, the luggage tags from the cruise when we met (and he hung onto), and more… All things he had treasured and saved, which was actually a big deal because generally speaking he didn’t usually hang onto anything. However, through the years, as I cleaned out boxes and drawers, I had found these items, and learned a little bit more about him with each item.

Also, on this dresser were a dozen dried roses. I had bought them for myself (from Bruce) on our anniversary that first year after he died. They were still sitting in the same vase, the way I placed them eight years ago, perfectly dried with time. However, time had also turned them black, and because they were so delicate (and precious to me), starting so show a layer of dust that I couldn’t seem to get off without tearing them up. Years ago, one of kids gently tried to suggest it was time to throw them out, but I wasn’t ready, and they quickly let the subject go – never mentioning it again.

However, last week as I looked at them… I mean really looked at them, I realized that they didn’t really bring me joy like the other items. They just made me sad… I reminder of the last several anniversaries spent alone. Then, I looked again, and decided, they were actually kind of creepy… Not something I needed to perpetuate. So… I did what I never thought of doing before… I tossed them out.

As for the rest of the memorial, I kept everything, but I moved them to different spaces. The memorial is gone… for me it is time, but he is not forgotten. I have simply moved his memories throughout the house rather than focusing all of those things into an official “memorial.” It feels better… It feels healthy… I couldn’t have done it even a few months ago, but now the time was right… And I’m good with it.

I remember a year after he died, I was finally ready to go through and remove things like his clothes and such. I had a wonderful neighbor who came over and helped me. She listened as I shared stories and hugged me when I cried. I kept a few things then, such as the outfit he wore when we got married. Everything else I offered to family members first, then took to the local charity shop. It had taken me a year to get to that point, but I was ready. Then this week, I broke up the memorial… Again, waiting until I was ready. Never doing these things because I felt pushed – I didn’t. Thankfully, the people around me have always been patient and let me do these things in my own time and in my own way.

Then, something else happened this week… You would think by now I would have found anything of his still in this house. However, as I was cleaning out a drawer to one of the side tables (one that held his poker chips, a weather radio, and his camera – all things I still have used through the years), I decided these items should really go somewhere else. So, I pulled them all out. Then something in the back of the drawer caught my eye… It looked like a badly tarnished chain.

As I reached in and pulled it out, I realized it wasn’t one chain… It was Bruce’s other two necklaces. (He had one that was an anchor, which I have worn with our wedding rings added since the night he died.) However, these two were ones he had also worn through the years. One was a St. Joseph medal. I had given it to Bruce on our wedding day, since St. Joseph is the patron saint of families and fathers. The other one Bruce had bought in Belize when we were on a cruise… (Supposedly) It was his initials in the Mayan language. I can remember him laughing about it and saying he hoped that was what it was, but how would he know? I remember we spent the next few days laughing and making up what it might actually say instead.

To say, finding those two necklaces caught me by surprise would be an understatement. When I pulled them out, and realized just what they were, it quite literally took my breath away. I would swear I felt my heart stop in that moment as I found another piece of Bruce… Another something to remind me that he is really gone… That I am here alone… That I still hate this… That I am still a little bit angry… And I still miss him more than words can express.

Splitting up the memorial and tossing out those roses was the right change to make, and I think Bruce would have agreed. (Actually, he probably would have thought I should have done it a long time ago.)… Yet, there is also a part of me that believes, he let me find those necklaces this week, because with all the change going on around me right now, I needed to remember the gift of our marriage, and the joy and laughter we shared…

So, thank you, Babe! I love you!!

Thank you for the opportunity to share my story with you. Sometimes, this journey can feel like nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. Yet, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. I believe the sharing of our stories is also important… I believe it is healing. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Changes

Changes… Lots of changes… I sometimes think might be one of the hardest parts of losing someone you love… all of the unending changes. It seems like every time I feel as I am getting steady on my feet again, I find one more thing in my life that has or is changing. And, yes, I know that is life in general, but this is different… These are changes that seem to have a direct connection back to Bruce and the reality of losing this man I love so very much.

Some things that have changed are things I expected, such as the empty chair at the table, or only my car in the driveway. Those were the concrete reminders of life without Bruce. However, there have been other changes, less visible yet much more profound.

I think two of the biggest areas of change for me are my own personality and, as a direct result, many of my relationships…

While I have heard it before, over the last few weeks, I have read several articles about the impact of traumatic events, and how they change us. I know it’s true… I have no doubt, because in my experience, after 23 years in a chaotic marriage, the change was huge. I had gone from being a confident (and probably a little bit stubborn) person before the marriage to being someone who struggled with trust and had absolutely no self-confidence by the end. It took years of counseling, patience, and tons of unconditional love to move through the debris that had been left of in the wake of that trauma.

But in my mind, the worst was over. I wasn’t a victim; I was a survivor! I had mustered up the courage I needed one last time and left. I had made changes. And with Bruce in my corner, I had once again found that self-confidence from years ago.

But then, just as quickly as he had come into my life, he was gone, and my world went black… Forget being confident… Forget anything… I struggled with the mere thought of simply taking my next breath.

All my life
I knew you were missing.
Then, like a miracle
You were there.
And,
Just as suddenly,
You were gone.
My soul cries…
~ Linda, October 2020

Talk about a traumatic event… It has been almost eight years, and it still brings tears to my eyes several times a week. It’s funny… I like to think I am “back to normal”, but sometimes things happen, and I realize “back to normal” may be an impossible destination for me.

The other day, this came to my attention when a friend made a simple comment… not one meant to hurt… not one said with any type of animosity… Simply a comment made as a matter of course… A simply stated fact.

There were several of us women talking, although I can’t honestly tell you what the conversation was about. I remember saying something to the effect of “… Losing Bruce was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced.” To which my friend gently touched my arm and simply said, “I know… It really changed you.” And the conversation moved on.

I’ve thought about that a lot since then. She’s right… I am not the same person I was eight years ago. I think I’m more quiet… more introverted… and probably more serious… I have to push myself in social situations, because many times, I would be just as content not to be there in the first place. But I am there, because I want to show the same love and acceptance to others that has been shown to me… So I go, and I push myself past my comfort zone.

As I think about where I was, where I am and my friend’s comment, I realize that if I’m honest, I think there have been other friends through the years who have tried to say the same thing. I think sometimes, not often, it has been said in the hopes that I will “fix” myself and go back to being the person they used to know “before”. However, I think most of the time it is said as a simple acceptance of who I am now… an acceptance that this was a traumatic event in my life which changed parts of my soul… parts that will likely never be the same. Yet, there is no pressure. They love me (period). They accept me as I am – bruises, changes, and all.

So, thank you! Thank you to all those wonderful people in my life who have stood firm by my side and loved me… I don’t think I would have ever been able to smile and laugh again, if it weren’t for you. I hope you know how much I love you all, and I am eternally grateful for your friendship, acceptance, and love.

If you have ever experienced a severe loss and deep grief, then you probably already know that traumatic events do change who we are. These are big events that change how we look at life and the world around us. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What changes have you had to navigate on this journey? How do you manage those? 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.

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Peace, Love and Grief… To Those Who are Gone

While I have my artsy, creative side and my messy spaces, for the most part, I like order. Yes, I like “stuff,” but there is an order to the stuff. Each item has an order and belongs in a certain place (and in a certain way). I am also a “list person.” It brings me great satisfaction to check the items off as each one is completed. For example, the paper towels need to sit a certain way on the holder, and the toilet paper needs to roll from the top. Even my clothes in the closet are arranged by clothing type and color. Shoot, even the little men on the Foosball table need to be lined up just right.

I know it sounds a bit crazy, and Bruce used to laugh at my “nerdiness,” but it’s just me. Honestly though, I won’t say anything to anyone if they do it different, (I don’t expect or want everyone to be like me). It’s just when I notice something “out of place” in my own home, I’ll put it back the way I like it. I don’t know why… It’s just the way I am built.

All of this, I know, is really a control thing. Maybe it comes from raising four children pretty much by myself. Or maybe it is a by-product of many theater productions with over 200 children on stage. Or maybe it is the result of a chaotic first marriage where so much was out of control. Who knows? It just is what it is.

Bruce used to laugh. Sure, even he was particular about some things… But, for the most part, he was fine with “whatever,” or at least that was how it appeared to me. He was always telling me that “the river doesn’t try to move the rocks. Instead, it flows around them with no effort.”

I would laugh. Those were nice thoughts, but that was him – not me. Honestly, I just let it go in one ear and out the other… That is, until he was gone.

The day he died was awful! My world came crashing down around me in just a few moments. My world went from love and laughter and dreams to being alone and feeling completely abandoned. I had no control on what had just happened or what might happen next… Everything was spinning out of my grasp, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I’m sure you can guess one of the first things I did… Yep, I did some research and made a list – a list of all the things that would “help me get through this grief.” In my naivete, I honestly thought I could go through this list, complete each item, and things would be better… I would feel better. I wouldn’t feel this awful grief anymore.

I should have known better, but I didn’t. Everything I knew about loss and death was more from Hollywood than real life… But I learned quite quickly that none of it was true. There was no checklist on earth – no list of things I could do – that could heal the hole left in my soul. Even time on its own couldn’t healed this empty space in my heart.

But over time, I have learned some things…

After Bruce died, I started reading the books he read, and listening to the speakers he listened to. (In fact, I still do.) At the time, I was trying to know him better… I was trying to understand the man he was and how he thought.

A funny thing happened, though. I started paying attention, and for the first time, I actually wanted to learn “how to flow around the rocks.” At first it seemed impossible. It was all so foreign to me.

I kept thinking I needed Bruce’s help. I didn’t think I could figure this out on my own. When he was here, he understood me and how I thought. He knew how to help me relax a little bit and just “enjoy the ride.” But trying to do that alone… without him… Well, that just seemed like a daunting task.

However, as time went on, I did find myself changing… When I looked back, bit by bit, I could see small changes. You see, every time I read one of those books or listened to one of those speakers; I learned something new. Each time, I found myself making a small change here or there… Each time I got a little better at letting another thing go and living in the moment… In other words, I was learning “how to flow around the rocks” and “enjoy the ride” once again.

It has been a long, slow road, but I am moving forward. Then, this week in my reading, I came across this…

“… A family wasn’t a static thing. There were always changes going on, like with continents, sometimes the changes were invisible and underground, and sometimes they were explosive and deadly. The trick was to keep your balance. You couldn’t control the direction of your family any more than you could stop the continental shelf from breaking apart. All you could do was hold on for the ride.” ~ Kristin Hannah, Winter Garden

Boy! This spoke volumes to me… When Bruce was alive, I didn’t want our time together to ever end. In fact, I couldn’t even imagine it. So, when it did happen, I was shocked… I couldn’t even breathe. I wanted so badly for things to go back to the way they had been… To wake up and find this was all just a bad dream… But that didn’t happen.

Through the years that followed, I have tried so hard to stay in control of my world… To never let it fall apart like that again… To minimize my risk of ever hurting like that again… To keep my family close and love them enough… Because then, maybe, I won’t lose them too. Of course, these ate all things I can’t control… All things I need to let go…

So here I sit, trying to figure out where to go from here. I think this is simply another step in my journey… Another moment of growth for me. Honestly, I don’t know what it will mean. I doubt there will be any drastic changes, because each lesson has been baby steps so far.

Yet, I believe, it will mean opening up a little bit more to life and what it offers… Being thankful for those who fill my world and enjoying every moment with them.

I am so thankful for all Bruce has taught me from our time back then, up to now, and even into tomorrow… I am so thankful that because of his legacy, I haven’t just given up. Instead, I want to honor him and all those I love (here and gone) by remembering to love this life and all who have crossed my path…

“To those who are here, those who are gone, and those who are lost.” ~ Kristin Hannah, Winter Garden

This is my story this week, but this is our community… a place to share our experiences. How about you? How are you moving forward? Where are your struggles and your successes? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts… Who knows… your words may hold the answer for someone else. To share your story or thoughts, please go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Changes

Note: First, I need to apologize for missing last week. I am afraid we spent the weekend preparing for Hurricane Dorian. Thankfully, God is good and blessed our little coastal town with barely a scratch.

I can’t remember the exact quote, and can’t seem to find it, but there is a phrase that says, “After a loss, time is divided in two – the time before and the time after.” Now, six years since Bruce died, I can tell you that is still the dividing line in my head.

I’m not sure why that is true. I just know that being a widow has changed me… It has changed how I view the world, and how I do things.

Surely, I’m not the only one. So let’s talk about the before and after…

I would say that before Bruce died, I was a very trusting person. Bruce used to tell me I should be more cautious – people should earn my trust. However, that was not who I was. Instead, I would always trust someone until they gave me cause (several times) not to, and I had no desire to be any other way.

However, after he died, there were too many instances of people trying to take advantage of my emotional state… The shock and distress of my “new normal” made me a target of some people’s manipulation rather than their compassion and understanding. Some actions were simple and easy to identify as non-trustworthy… For example, I can’t tell you how many phone calls I received from charity organizations, where they often used the phrase, “Your husband would want you to contribute,” or something similar. I fell for this once… and only once. Now, I never answer a call if I don’t recognize the number. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message. Otherwise, I don’t need to talk to them.

At other times, requests came for Bruce’s things. I’m not referring to family or friends who wanted something to remember him by – that is normal and right. I am referring to acquaintances, who would flat out ask for Bruce’s things, such as his tools, fishing equipment or our kayaks, usually accompanied by the phrase, “since you won’t be using it,” or something along that vein. To this day, I still have all these things… and, believe it or not, I use them. Through the years, I have learned to do small home repairs, taken my grandson fishing, and often kayak solo.

Then, there were the men who were way too eager to suddenly “be my friend” or who quite directly “offered” to sleep with me, because they would rather my “next time was with a friend and not a stranger” or because “someone had to be first, and it might as well be them.” Seriously?

One person from my childhood suddenly reappeared and took it so far as to ask if he could interview me for a book he was writing. I thought he was serious… I trusted him and agreed. It wasn’t until we were together that I realized it was not an interview, and despite being married, his intentions were not admirable. All of this has left such a bad taste in my mouth that trusting anyone again in this realm, seems next to impossible.

Before Bruce died, I would never have thought of myself as quiet. I was a performing arts teacher… I sang in choirs, performed in small town theater, and was a cantor at church. I didn’t really know a stranger and would talk to anyone anywhere about anything. (Shoot, that was how I met Bruce.) I was an open book with no secrets.

However, as time passed, I became more wary… more introverted… I learned not to talk about anything and everything… Because of the responses I received, I learned to keep my innermost thoughts to myself… It was easier and less confrontational… Even my grief, (other than writing this blog), I learned to keep to myself. That behavior has led me to a place where I can count on one hand, the number of people I am completely open with. Yet, I’m not convinced that is a bad thing… Now, the people I trust, I know I can trust – completely.

One of the biggest changes, though, has come about in this past year…

When Bruce died, I wanted to go with him… I did not want to be here alone… The magnitude of living the rest of my life without him seemed overwhelming… I didn’t think I could do it. However, as I have worked on my own healing and growth, I have become more introspective. I have found myself with a renewed respect for life and a deeper understanding of what is important.

My priorities are completely different knowing how precious each moment can be… knowing that the only moment that is promised is the one I am in… I have learned that my purpose here is to love… And if anything leads me away from that purpose, it is not the path for me… It really is that simple.

Part of writing this blog, is my own self-healing… my own self-awareness and understanding. Even now, as I have been writing this, I have come to realize something… All of these changes are really about learning to set boundaries… Something I always struggled with in the past. I am learning it is okay to say “no” and walk away from people or behaviors which are not healthy. I admit, I am still learning how to set them, but that is okay too… I believe these are changes I can live with, and now actually learn to enjoy my life on a different level.

How about you? Has your loss created changes in how you live? Not just the concrete ones that come from being alone. I am referring to your innermost thoughts and how you view and react to the world around you… Would you be willing to share with us, please? Would you tell us your story? This path can be a hard and lonely one, but none of us need to do it alone. We are all here for each other. We all have stories to share. Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Who I am

I know I am not who I was;
But I’m not sure I am.
~ Linda, October 2016

For decades, scientists have argued the heredity vs environment theories. Today, most will acknowledge that it is a bit of both. If you had siblings or multiple children, you also most likely agree. Sharing the same DNA does not mean replica children. It is also our experiences that help shape and mold us. They seem to add the details in our life’s tapestry that significantly affect who we become.

In other words, who we are is fluid based on our experiences. Once we have experienced something, we cannot UN-see or UN-hear it… We cannot UN-experience it. So by nature, each experience creates constant change and growth in each of us.

I believe most of us would agree… There is not a lot to argue… or ponder… Until those big experiences knock us off our feet. Then there is a lot to think about…

After my first marriage ended, I realized that I had spent my whole adult life (up to that point) not being myself… Out of fear, I became whatever was needed in any given moment not to anger my first husband. As a consequence, I had lost any idea of myself and who I was. It took several years of being alone to rediscover who I was and have enough confidence to just be me around others.

By the time I met Bruce, I was pretty comfortable with myself. I was still healing, but at the same time, I was learning how to enjoy life and laugh again. Bruce’s unconditional love and acceptance, however, went a long way to helping me love life again… life with him.

With the love we shared, life changed again… It was filled with all the “normal” marriage and family things, but this time our love for each other was at the core of all of it. During this short time together, we both grew… but we grew together.

No matter how bad things appeared on the surface… issues with our kids, money, job loss, moves, or anything else that life threw our way… the central theme was “We love each other, and we can get through this together.”

I had never experienced that before… The idea that I wasn’t alone or on the defensive was new… and wonderful! I must tell you, I flourished. I stopped acting out of fear and learned to be totally comfortable with being me. It was such a freeing way to live. Maybe it sounds crazy, but the connection and acceptance of each other was so strong during this time together, I felt whole or the first time.

Then it all changed…

Bruce died. It felt like the ground beneath my feet crumbled away, as I fell into an abyss. It was lonely and dark… I was lost.

Losing your soulmate feels like your soul has been ripped out;
Leaving nothing but a shell.
A shell that breathes and moves,
But feels no hope…
not anymore.
~Linda, October 2013

Now it is three years later, and I am doing better. I am still sad, but no longer despondent. I am slowly learning how to me… without Bruce… one person – no longer “two as one.”

As time passes, I am noticing ways I am different now… some changes are small and others are pretty big. For example, I am much more quiet than I used to be. I used to talk to everyone, (which was how I met Bruce). Now, while I don’t avoid talking, and I will smile and nod – maybe even say a “hello” – but it takes a lot for me to actually start a conversation. I enjoy life, and I have learned to laugh again, but I am also quite content to be alone – lost in my own thoughts. As a former music and drama teacher, I used to be completely comfortable entertaining, singing or being in front of a crowd. Now, I content to sit back and observe… and I only sing when it is along with the radio, and I am alone.

But, I think the biggest change for me has been trust. I used to trust everyone… until they gave me multiple reasons not to. When Bruce died that all changed.
So many people made empty promises, others just disappeared and still others actually took advantage or tried to take advantage of my situation for their own gain. While none of these will be a surprise to any other widow(er), I was caught completely by surprise. It even reached a point where I didn’t even trust God anymore.

However, through journaling, meditation and studying the books Bruce read, I am learning to trust God/life again. I learning to trust that things will work out the way they should in their own time. Grief has changed me immensely, and I am still learning who I am now. I know I will never be that person I was; I am different now.

But I guess, through this experience I am learning to be who I am meant to be…

New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings…
~ Lao Tzu

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with figuring out who you are after your loss? 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… What would you change?

Let me start by apologizing for posting this week’s blog a day late. I have spent the past few days vacationing with my sisters on a quiet, remote beach… which has become my topic for today. Prior to this weekend, I had started writing about something completely different, but (just like life itself) something happened to changed my plans.

This trip is actually a yearly trek. In fact, every summer for almost a decade now, the four of us have come together from three of the four corners of the U.S. It is our time… It is a girls’ weekend that includes relaxing, napping, beach time and cocktails. But my absolute favorite part is the deep, intimate conversations… conversations with people I trust… conversations that are safe because I know no matter what anyone says, we will not only still love each other… we will actually love each other deeper because we know each other more completely.

Some of these conversations “just happen.” You know what I mean… one thing leads to another, and without realizing how you got there, you find yourselves in the middle of something very deep and extremely intimate. Other times we start asking random questions that can evoke hysterically funny “confessions” or the same deep personal conversations mentioned above.

While those conversations are only between the four of us, and that is where they shall remain, I do want to share my thought process to one of those conversation-starting questions… The question was, “If you could change anything about your past – anything you have done, anything you have experienced, anything that has happened – what would it be?

You might that is a “no-brainer.” Surely, I would say “Bring Bruce back”… Or to have never experienced the abuse and divorce of my first marriage… Or to have never lost my first son… Or to have never experienced such severe financial loss years ago… In other words, to have never experienced the most painful points or periods of my life… But I didn’t.

While I have spent many hours wishing these things had not happened, wondering “why me” and thinking “God must hate me,” I have (over the last several months) come to realize that these horrible, horrible things – these things that created such pain – are the exact things that allowed me to grow and become a better me.

Do I wish I had never experienced financial loss? OF COURSE! I’ve written about the hopelessness involved when I woke up one day to find my investments were not real – I was responsible for four children and all my money was gone. Yet, through that experience I learned how to handle my money. I learned that there was more to handling money than getting paid, paying bills and buying stuff. I learned to be involved in my investments and how to budget and plan. I learned that when I am in control of my money, I do not have “money worries.” In other words, I have learned how to have financial freedom… I don’t think I would have ever learned that lesson without that awful experience to literally throw me down that particular road.

So would I really wish that experience away? When I was in the middle of it, I would have… I was scared and everything before me seemed impossible. But now that I am on the other side, I have to say, “No. I do not wish that experience away.”

What about the loss of my first child? Do I ever wish that had never happened? OF COURSE! I have written about the excitement of carrying a life inside you and looking forward to holding and loving that child. I have also written about the awful pain and sadness of losing that life in childbirth… of never holding that child, never touching his fingers and toes or never kissing his brow. For years, I didn’t acknowledge or grieve my little boy… It wasn’t until Bruce died that I began to work through the plethora of emotions from that experience. But even that part of the experience taught me a lot about death and grief… I learned that shoving emotions aside and pretending everything is okay, is not okay. Emotions are real… They have a way of taking on a life of their own when they are not acknowledged. I would not have believed it, if I hadn’t lived it. However, I finally learned that I had to deal with the pent up emotions of losing of Baby Matthew before I could even start to deal with the pain of losing of Bruce.

So would I really wish that experience away? I don’t know that I would… I now know that each loss experience helps prepare you for the next. How you learn to handle grief and loss early in life, will either leave you prepared or unprepared for to handle the losses later in life. This was a huge lesson! I didn’t learn it when it happened but I still had to learn it… even though it was years, no – decades, later.

Well surely, I must have wished I had never experienced the abuse and divorce of my first marriage, right? No… I can’t say that either. I have written about the terror, the pain and the after-effects of that experience. It was horrendous. There were things that happened in that household that should never happen… I am not saying those things are okay – They ARE NOT! However, what I am saying is out of that relationship, came four of the most amazing and wonderful children who are now four of the most amazing and wonderful adults. I cannot imagine my world without them. Another thing also emerged out of that relationship – a better me. It took years (and Bruce), but I learned to be strong. I learned to stand up for myself. Most importantly, I learned that my “being afraid” was what gave my first husband his perceived “power.” As soon as I learned to stop being afraid, I took my own power back, and he lost all perception of any power in my life. He is not a threat to me… I am no longer afraid.

So would I really wish that experience away? No. Somewhere earlier in my life, I somehow learned that I didn’t have enough value to hold onto my own “power.” I learned to give it away, and in my first marriage, I gave it to someone who abused it. Learning “I have value and no one has power in my life that I do not give to them” was a lesson I had to learn. It took years and it was a horrible experience, but that was a lesson that I had to learn or I was destined to relive it over and over.

And finally, what about losing Bruce? Surely, that is the experience, I would change! Honestly, I wish that he were still here every day. I still love him, and I miss him terribly. But if I am honest, there have been a lot of positive changes in my life – lessons I have learned because the grief in this loss has forced me to look deep inside myself… To really look at who I am, what I believe and how to live a genuine life. I believe this has been the hardest experience of all. I have hated and resisted every step. I still hate it. However, I no longer resist the lessons… In fact, I not only seem to be open to the lessons, I actually find myself pursuing the next lesson.

So would I really wish that experience away? If I am honest, a huge part of me would still say, “Yes.” … Maybe it is still too early… may be it is too fresh… maybe with time, like the other experiences, I will give a different answer… But I don’t think so. I think I will always wish Bruce were still by my side – laughing with me, encouraging me and loving me. But I also, believe the fact that I can see anything positive at all in this experience… that I have become stronger instead of curling up inside myself is huge.

I love who I have become through this experience… I know this side of me is what Bruce always saw deep inside me and loved. I believe his legacy is the reason I have grown. Because of this loss and his legacy, I have come to realize that each experience – good or bad – has held a lesson for me and has made me who I am today.

So maybe I would change this experience, but at least I am able to see the good that has resulted because of his life… and that has to count for something doesn’t it?

What about you? Have you ever asked yourself what you would change if you could? Or have you learned to see the positive in each situation? 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