feeling alone – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief… Going Home

Due to several factors (mostly Covid), it’s been several years since I have been back to Bruce’s hometown in Michigan, and three years since I have been able to see and hug his parents. It has felt like forever! But last weekend, I boarded a plane and did just that.

I love that town. (Well, I love it when it isn’t freezing cold and snowing – lol!) It was where we were married and where we had our first home together. There are so many precious memories there… Even now, I am tearing up just thinking about it all. I went this last week because we were celebrating his Dad’s 90th birthday.

Years ago, Bruce was able to go celebrate his 80th birthday, but I had to miss it due to work. None of us had any idea Bruce would be gone a few short months later. So this year, I was determined to be there for his 90th. For weeks, I have been so excited that things are more “normal”, and I was finally going to be able to go!

As soon as I landed, though, the memories (and the tears) started…

As I was leaving the terminal, my mind at once turned to that first trip to Michigan so many years ago. I was terrified leaving the terminal that day, only to find Bruce’s smiling face waiting for me at the bottom of the walkway… The start of a wonderful adventure filled with love.

Of course, this time there was the hubbub of getting my own luggage and, finally, the rental car. The whole time, all I could think about were all the trips back here after we left and moved to Florida… The two of us waiting in line for a rental car versus just me… alone. Deep breaths and attempts to refocus were the only things to save me from breaking down in tears as I waited my turn.

On my drive to his sister’s house, (where I stayed), everything was extremely familiar, despite the many years since I had been there – streets and exits, restaurants and shops… all the places we used to go… and the avalanche of memories that wouldn’t stop. I think I cried for the first ten miles or so. At that point, though, I knew I had to make myself stop. I was not about to spend an entire week crying everywhere I went. I needed to focus on the “happy” of what had been – not the sadness of what is gone.

The week was wonderful! I immediately fell right into the rhythm of his family from the moment I stepped across the threshold. The first night there was a wonderful celebration of Dad’s 90th with all of his family and friends. Yet, for me, the best part came at the end when we were all sitting around the firepit and Dad entertained us with stories and songs… That man can tell the best stories!! And his love for his family shines through in all of it.

The only thing missing that night was Bruce… We all knew it… Still… in my heart, I believe he was there too – smiling and laughing right along with the rest of us!

On another day, we went out to the lake and had lunch near the marina where Bruce and I used to keep our sailboat. Oh my gosh!! All the memories!! The bait shop where we always stopped for beer… the summer nights sleeping in the small cabin on the boat… the sadness of putting the boat in storage for the winter and the excitement of pulling it out in the summer… and the beachside bar where we often stopped for lunch.

I remembered the place immediately… One of the first times out on the boat, Bruce had anchored offshore with the intention of us swimming/walking to shore for lunch. But… I am a southern girl through and through, and even in the middle of summer, Michigan waters are too cold for this girl. So, that dear man let me ride to shore on his shoulders with only my toes touching the water. I still laugh every time I think about how I convinced him to let me ride and stay warm vs swimming and getting cold.

The following day, I was able to have lunch with Bruce’s daughter. I don’t get to see her often, since she has little ones of her own, but our time together was absolutely precious to me. So many stories shared… so many questions answered… and still so much more I want to share with her. I really wish Bruce could have been there… I am sure she wished the same. Yet, the two of us will always have a connection because of him, and I will treasure that for as along as life allows.

The best part of the whole week? Honestly, it was simply the continuous time spent with family… the people who knew and loved Bruce too… the people who miss him like I do… the people who don’t think I should be “over it” and who understand when I shed a tear here and there… the people who accept me as family, too.

I remember when Bruce died, I was terrified I would lose these wonderful people in my life. Everything I read at the time said to expect his family to gradually pull away until one day I would realize they were no longer there. However, that has never happened. Instead, here we are, almost 10 years later, and we are closer than ever. I am so blessed, and I love them to the moon and back… To my mind, they are another precious gift from the man who was my hero… the man who loved me… the man who gave me so many precious memories to lean on until I see him again.
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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… places we can go to and find comfort… moments where we 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 with you. 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 each of 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.

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Peace, Love, and Grief… Loneliness

I hope you don’t judge me, since my goal is moving forward not back… Yet, this week started off really rough! I was completely down on myself. I don’t know why (or how) I managed to let myself get so far down the rabbit hole. At the same time, I know it’s normal… We all do sometimes.

I think the hard part (for me, anyway) is not having anyone here with me… more specifically – Bruce! For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with my own self-worth… I think that comes from several places in my life. The exact sources aren’t really important to list here, but it was a constant message of “not being enough”.

Bruce, however, was my hero, though! He always made me feel like I was “enough”… Maybe even more than enough. Whenever I had doubts, without exception, I was comfortable enough to reach out to him. It makes me smile when I think about the times, I would come to him with tears in my heart (and eyes), and he would simply take me in his arms to hold me for as long as I needed. So many times, not a word was spoken between us, until he would kiss me and tell me that he loved me.

I think maybe one of the most challenging (and crumbling) parts of this journey is the loneliness. It’s crazy how it creeps in without me really noticing until I am deep down in the rabbit hole. Then suddenly, things start to fall apart, and I find myself feeling as if I have no one to really turn to. Granted, I know that isn’t really true, I have wonderful people in my life. (However, when you are in so deep, that is hard to remember.)

The problem is when I get to this point – the point of utter defeat and desperation – I can’t reach out. I somehow convince myself that this is too much to dump on someone else. Or (even worse), I also tend to convince myself that I am a bother, and no one would care anyway. Plus, who needs more rejection? (Ridiculous, I know, but it is where my mind goes.)

(sigh) Loneliness is a horrible, misguided companion!

I heard a quote this week from Fr. Richard Rohr that seems apropos, “Suffering follows any great commitment of love.” Boy, did that hit home… The grief and pain from losing Bruce (even nine years later) can still be a struggle for me.

Sometimes, there are triggers that send me reeling. However, like this week, there was no trigger… It was simply the loneliness of missing him in particular… of no longer having that person in my life who “gets” me totally and completely… who can take one look at me and know what I am feeling or thinking… that person who know me inside and out – the good and the bad – and still loves me anyway. For me, that person was Bruce… And, God knows, I miss that… I miss him!

Some weeks are better than others… Some are harder. This week, though, I would have given anything to have had that… HIM back in my world.
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This journey isn’t easy… not that you need me to tell you that. Loss is hard, and the grief we are left to figure out is even harder. Thankfully, though, there are moments where our souls can be refreshed – Moments where I learn a little bit more about life, faith, and love.

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!

Peace, Love, and Grief… Triggers and Little Glimpses of You

Over the last several years, I have found myself trying to notice my triggers. You know, those little things that can set off a wave of unexpected grief. For the longest time, these waves would hit, and I had no idea what in the world had triggered it. All I knew was that suddenly, I felt like I was drowning with no idea which way was up.

Finally, I decided that it would be in my own best interest to start noticing… watching for those things… those triggers. Over the past several months, I have come to realize that stress is one of my biggest triggers… And there seems to be plenty of that to go around. I don’t know why exactly, but I believe it is the simple need to lean on someone you love and trust when everything else in your world feels out of control… And living here alone has really brought this trigger into full view.

At work for the past few weeks, the stress has been monumental. There is a rather large project that fell off the rails due to someone else’s lack of work ethic, and now, I find myself bending over backwards to make it right. The first week and a half, I found myself working 10 – 12 hour days, skipping lunch and breaks, in an effort to still make the deadline.

However, as things sometimes go, I thought the project was complete (and on time), only to find that it wasn’t what someone else higher up was really looking for. So, after some tears of frustration, I started over… Then, a few days later, I started over yet again. (You get the picture, I’m sure.)

The thing is, after that first week and half, I realized that I was working myself into pure exhaustion. I knew I couldn’t keep up that pace. That pace was actually only working to increase the stress I was already feeling. Plus since I work from home, I needed desperately to reset that boundary of when to stop for the day and just walk away. For me, (who puts a lot of priority on doing things correctly and on time), this whole situation was a real struggle.

By midweek, I found myself smack dab in the middle of a grief wave… no – not a wave… It was more like a tsunami. I was drowning and had no idea where to turn to make it stop. I knew it was the stress, but I just couldn’t figure out how to reign it back in. As a result, I found myself, sobbing (you know what I mean? I am talking about ugly crying), and begging God, Bruce, and the Universe to just make it all stop.

Why does it still hurt so badly?
I would give anything
For a word of encouragement
Or a long hug…
From you

I am drowning.
I come up for air,
But it isn’t enough…
Then, I am back down
Struggling for one more breath.

I sit here in the silence,
Praying for the sound of
Your truck in the driveway,
Your footstep on the porch,
Or your key in the lock.
But they never come…
Always, just this unending, damnable silence.

The only sound these days
Is the sound of my tears…
My sobs…
My begging God for this nightmare to end
And for me to wake up in your arms
One more time.

On the good days,
I need you here to share my joy.
On the rough days,
I need you…
That is all – just you.
~ Linda, 2022

You may think I am nuts, (and maybe that’s not too far off – lol), but through the years there have been little things that happen around here, that I take as a sign that Bruce is still around. Sometimes it is something as subtle as an object being moved across the room or his players on the foosball table being moved into his “signature starting position”. Other times, it is more obvious. For example, at Christmas, his stocking moves almost constantly while the others beside it hang perfectly still. (And yes, I have moved it to different spots to be sure it isn’t just the position in the room.)

So… As I sat there, I kept telling him that I needed him… Even just a sign that I wasn’t alone would be amazing… but nothing. Nothing happened… Instead, I went to bed feeling that much more alone. The next morning, however, as I walked by the foosball table, I noticed it immediately, and it took my breath away. Not only were his players “in position” – ready to play, the ball, which lives inside the table, was sitting exactly on the center line.

He had heard me… He was there… I wasn’t as alone as I had felt…

I know, it probably sounds silly, and I know most people will be skeptical. That’s okay. I am all about people believing or not believing what they choose. (After all, there is a lot in this world we don’t understand.) As for me, this little glimpse of Bruce… this moment when I no longer felt alone… meant the world to me… And if that is all it takes to get past another wave of grief, what does that hurt?

Today, as I sit here, I am just thankful for a man who loved me enough that I can still feel his love so many years later.

This grief thing really is hard, and honestly, while I have learned a lot, I still hate it. There are definitely more good days than bad. However, I still constantly find myself wishing for a world where he is by my side. Grief has also changed me in ways I could never have prepared for, and in ways no one else might understand. Life on this path is sometimes filled with challenges I never imagined. And each time I think I have it figured out, something happens, and I find I haven’t figured it out at all. However, these little glimpses of Bruce and remembering how blessed I am to have known his love (even for a short time) has been my path to survival and healing. At this point in my journey, I am learning that while it can be hard to remember in the moments of grief, I am not alone. And while it is okay to remember the past, I must also keep looking at this life before me and recognizing the joy, love, and hope it still holds… Then, learning to hold onto that with everything I have.

Thanks to you, 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… Another New Year

It’s hard to believe that another year has come and gone… Another New Year’s Eve behind me… Another night spent wondering what life would be like if Bruce were still here…

Before Bruce, I rarely celebrated New Year’s Eve. It’s one of those things that my family never celebrated when I was growing up… It was just another day with the only tradition to mark its passing that of black-eyed peas and collards for dinner. (And I hate collards, so I always kind of dreaded it! LOL!) Then during my first marriage, I was just too tired for a late-night party after all the energy expended on Christmas with an ever-growing family. I do remember a couple of years when we went to a party, but those were usually based around my ex-husband’s business and its customers – not a party just for fun, but one with a business goal in mind. That was fine. It was what put bread on our table. My point is that New Year’s Eve just didn’t have any significance in my life… until Bruce.

We met on a cruise which ran from the day after Christmas until New Year’s Day. That New Year’s Eve is one I will never forget. After a week of getting to know one another, Bruce and I danced the night away on the deck of that sailing schooner. We even toasted and kissed at midnight. Then someone walked past us and made a comment that they thought there was something more than a ship-board romance between us. I’ll never forget… Bruce looked me in the eye and said he agreed. He wanted to take things further after the cruise was over.

That would be such a sweet New Year’s Eve story if I stopped there. However, to be honest, it kind of freaked me out in the moment, and I actually ran and hid in my cabin. (Because that is what a logical, mature woman does, right? Good grief! Sometimes I am ridiculous!) Obviously, we worked things out, because 10 months later we were married. So for me, New Year’s Eve will always be the start of “us”.

In the years that followed, we tended to make New Years a private affair. Bruce usually cooked lobster or crab legs for dinner, and we always stayed up and watched the ball drop in NY City. Then we usually ended the night with a slow romantic dance – usually to Rod Stewart’s Have I Told You Lately. It was quiet, but it suited us.

Now jump forward to December 31, 2012. Bruce had to work, so I spent the day alone. Our neighbors, though, had invited us to a small party at their house. So, Bruce made sure he was home in time for us to go. We were only going to stay for an hour or two, though, because he had to be at work the next day at 5 am.

It was such a fun night. We laughed. We danced. We celebrated with friends… And we stayed way longer than planned. Before we left to come back home, we kissed and toasted as the year rolled into 2013. Then once we were home, we danced one more time… I swear, if I close my eyes, I can almost feel his arms around me as we slowly turned in time to the music… one last time…

The next day, Bruce decided to call out from work – something he never did. As we lay in the bed that first morning of 2013, he pulled me close as he told me that that was the way he wanted to spend the entire year – with me in his arms. I felt like I was in heaven… It was the best New Years ever!

But life had other plans, and a few weeks later, Bruce was gone. No longer a part of my world or my life.

Ever since, New Years has held a certain bittersweet, melancholy for me. My kids have been great about including me in their plans each year, and I always have a good time. Yet, somewhere in my heart there is a hole that is never filled. This year, though, for the first time in a long time, I found myself alone for New Years. Turns out, I was exposed to Covid this past week, and while I am vaccinated and boosted, I know that doesn’t apply to everyone. I don’t think I could handle it if someone got sick, because I spread it around. So I made the choice to stay home until I know it is safe.

However, that means it has been a very quiet New Year’s Eve and Day. I am sure I have probably been in my own head too much. All I keep thinking is how much I still miss him… And how lonely life can be without him… And I can’t help but wonder what life would be like if he had been here beside me for one more dance and to toast another year together… another year of “us”.

I miss you, Babe!

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 into this new year before me and find the joy and the hope life holds.

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

* 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.