Tag: finding comfort

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

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

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

So how do these words go together?…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Out of my distress I called on the Lord, and the Lord answered me.” ~ Psalm 118:5
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘BE’ and to be comfortable with that – however it looks.

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

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

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

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Peace, Love and Grief… Comfort in My Heart

I’m not sure if I want to put this all out there or not this week. However, since my goal is to be honest about this journey… here goes…

As you may (or may not) recall, last year held another challenge for me in the form of breast cancer. It started with a diagnosis and surgery in the spring, chemo throughout the summer and radiation in the fall. I had great support from my family and friends throughout the whole experience, but it was still hard doing it without Bruce by my side. So many times, I would think, “Why?… Why do I have to do this without him by my side?” But, of course, there was never an answer… Life just seems to be what it is.

However, there was also a part of me that felt differently…

I’m embarrassed to admit it… It probably sounds quite vain, and it is hard to explain, but after the surgery, there was a part of me that was relieved Bruce wasn’t here. I had tried to prepare myself for what was coming with each step in the process. After all, the goal was to get rid of the cancer, and we did that. But I guess, I wasn’t prepared for how it would look after all was said and done.

I thought that with a lumpectomy, things wouldn’t be that bad… But I was wrong. The first time I looked in a mirror, I was shocked. I had not expected what I saw reflected there… And I cried. In that moment, I was glad Bruce wasn’t here. I’m not saying he would have minded… I’m saying I was horrified… I would have been embarrassed to let him see me like that.

Then, there was the chemo, and I lost my hair… all of my hair – not just the hair on my head. I lost my eyebrows, eyelashes… every bit of it – gone! Again, before it fell out, I thought I would be okay with it. It was just hair, after all. However, the reality left me quite humbled. And, once again, while a huge part of me wished Bruce were by my side, there was also a small part of me which was relieved he never saw me like that.

After the chemo, there was the radiation. By this point, the surgery was starting to heal, and I thought, maybe it will all be okay. However, the radiation has an effect on scar tissue… It made it hard and caused a lot of permanent swelling.

There were so many emotions at that point… I was thankful to my doctors and glad to be alive. I knew my experience had not been all that bad when compared to so many others, especially those who don’t make it through. I was trying to be okay with how my body looked… Yet, again, there was a part of me that wished Bruce were there to tell me he loved me no matter what, and the other part was relieved he never saw me looking like this.

Last year, the doctors told me I would need to wait a year for the healing process to run it’s course. Then, we could look at the options available to “fix” things. So… I waited.

As time passed, I’m not sure if I just got used to it, or if things got better, or a little bit of both. However, when the year was up, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. However, when summer came, and I realized I was uncomfortable wearing certain clothes, I decided to see exactly what my options were.

And that brings me to this week…

On Friday, I had some plastic surgery to fix everything… They released the scar tissue to get rid of the hardness and did some fat grafting to even things back out. So why am I writing about this here?

Because, as I have said, throughout this journey, I have had mixed emotions about wishing Bruce were here with me and being relieved that he wasn’t here to see how I looked. However, when I woke up from my surgery, I knew without a doubt, he has been here all along… by my side… holding my hand.

Because that is what he was doing during my surgery… As I came to, all I could remember was Bruce taking my hand as they wheeled me into surgery. He never said a word… He just stayed beside me holding my hand. When the nurse woke me up, he squeezed my hand and was gone… just like that…

It took everything in me not to cry… I wanted him to come back. I remember the nurse asked if I was okay. “I just feel like crying,” I said, as I remembered holding his hand for the past few hours… Something so real… Something I haven’t done in such a long time… Something that reminded me – I am not alone… I have not been through this journey alone… and he loves me no matter what…

And… even if he can’t be here physically by my side, he still loves me enough to put his comfort in my heart… where I can always find it.

Everyone travels this path in their own way and in their own time… Grief is hard and the fact that life just keeps on coming at you can make it seem even harder. These are only my thoughts and observations about my own path throughout the course of dealing with this thing called cancer. Maybe you too have had challenges that has made your grief seem a little bit harder, as well. Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when we feel completely vulnerable. 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

* 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… Life Doesn’t End Here

“Life doesn’t end here”… It took me years to see this as a promise…

When Bruce died, a huge part of me died with him. In fact, it felt like most of me died that night right there beside him… And there was an even bigger part of me that wished I had. I didn’t think I could go on without him… And I didn’t want to. Everything felt black… I was lost… I can remember just sitting in the middle of the floor in our home and sobbing. That space felt so huge and empty without him.

Like a child wandering in a dark house… lost.
I go from room to room
Searching for you.
You are not here.
I am alone.
I sit in the corner –
Lost… afraid… crying…
Where are you?
Where is the light?
Will I always be here alone and scared?
~ Linda, January 2014

As that first year passed into another, life went on… Life didn’t end there, but it wasn’t a life of hope. It was simply a life of survival… It was about putting one foot in front of the other… Each day looked like the one before it… My kids were all grown with lives of their own. I knew they loved me, but I certainly didn’t think I was needed. I just existed…

And so it was for a very long time…

I remember telling one of my daughters that each day that passed simply represented another day closer to being with Bruce again. I even remember confiding to some of my closest friends that if I got really sick (like cancer), I wouldn’t fight it. My poor family – I was a mess!

I remember people telling me that I “needed to live” … That my life wasn’t over… I kept reading the verse from Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted.” But I wasn’t comforted. I was struggling… I would pray for God to let me join Bruce, but my sobbing prayers were met with silence. God wasn’t even listening, (or so I thought),… but I thought wrong.

Slowly things began to change.

I began to realize that even though my kids were adults with lives of their own, they actually did still need me. I am the only parent in their lives, and that can be a pretty important space even with adult children. Then, there is my grandson. When he and my daughter moved in with me, it was as if someone turned the lights back on… That huge space was filled once again with love and laughter and fun and chaos and incredible moments… In other words – life… Our home was once again filled with life.

Then, 2018 happened… When I first found the lump, I ignored it. Not because I wanted to die, I just didn’t want to believe it was anything serious. For months, I convinced myself it was nothing… And I said nothing – not a word to anyone. After waiting eight months, I finally saw a doctor who gave me the diagnosis I didn’t want to hear – cancer.

It’s weird… years before I thought that was what I wanted – not cancer, but a way out… A way to Bruce. While that may sound a bit dramatic, I have read enough books on grief to know it is a normal part of grieving. (As if there is anything normal about grief!)

But by 2018, that was no longer what I wanted… Over the past few years, I have learned to love life again. Yes, I still have times of grief, but never to the extent that it had been in the beginning. So, what did I do? I did what most of us would do… I chose to fight… I chose to live!

I came across a quote from Andre Escobar – “Life doesn’t end here.” Just a few short years ago, I thought my life had ended… I was done. But not anymore… Over the years, I did find that comfort I read about in Matthew. I found it in the arms of my friends and family. Now… “life doesn’t end here” became my mantra…

My last treatment was on November 2, and while I haven’t heard the words “cured” or “remission” yet, (it’s too soon), as far as I’m concerned, I have won! My hair is growing back. I am working out. I’m back at the office. I am doing all the things I love to do, and I feel fabulous!

I am living life again… and I am loving it!

I still miss Bruce. I’d be lying to say otherwise. However, my faith tells me I will see him again, and I hang onto that truth. I also know he wouldn’t want me to shut down and stop living. Our short time together taught me that life is too precious for that.

So, as long as I have breath within me, I will keep on loving and living, because…

Life doesn’t end here… 

“So I’m going to do my best in this life so that I’m sure to see her in the next one. I’m going to work hard, tell the truth, and be of some use to the people who care about me. I’m going to try anyway.” – Adriana Trigiani, The Shoemaker’s Wife

What about you? When your loved on died, did it take time to want to live and learn to love life again? Is that something you still struggle with? It can be hard to admit, but it is even harder to bear alone. We are part of a club, we never wanted to join. Yet, here we are… Let’s reach out to one another and share our stories. 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

* 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.