Tag: firsts

Peace, Love, and Grief… It’s Okay to Feel What You Feel

“… Emotions such as grief, fear, and despair have gained a reputation as ‘the dark emotions’ not because they are noxious or abnormal but because Western culture keeps them shuttered in the dark with other shameful things like personal bankruptcy or sexual deviance.” ~ Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark

Did you know that according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual IV, also known as the “psychiatrist’s Bible”, patients who grieve longer than two months are considered depressed and it is suggested that prescription drugs should be considered for treatment? Good grief! Are you kidding me?? That has got to be one of the most ridiculous things I have ever read!

Honestly, at the two-month point, I was just beginning to realize that this was not a dream… There was no healing those first few months… I am pretty sure I was in shock during that time. I don’t remember a lot, except being thankful for a daily routine of working out, going to work, returning home, dinner, and bedtime. (Then, getting up and doing it all over again the next day.) Being able to simply “do the next thing” in my day without thinking about it was what kept me functional.

We all are different… We heal differently… We grieve differently… And we all have a different timeline for those things. For anyone to decide that everyone should “magically” be healed within a certain (very small) window, is just silly.

For me, I know for the whole first year I was simply focused on breathing… just surviving from one day to the next was my goal. I couldn’t think any farther ahead then the next moment.

I remember dreading all the “firsts”… For me, that order was the first Valentine’s Day, his birthday, Easter, summer and the beach, our anniversary, Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, New Years, and the awful anniversary of his death. I dreaded each one for weeks before the actual day. Then, trying to figure out what to do… how to spend the day… or if I even wanted to recognize the day at all was overwhelming.

Most of those days, I ran away and ignored the world…

I remember traveling alone for the first time. It was a business trip, but it still felt strange… No one to take me to the airport. No one for me to call and say, “I made it here safely.” No one to greet me when I got back home. It was hard… I especially remember trying to just get my breathing under control as I drove to the airport in the wee hours of the morning.

I also remember wearing black for that entire first year. To the rest of the world, it probably wasn’t even noticeable… everyone wears black these days, and as a woman in the business world, it just looked like any other professional woman in any other office. The thing is I didn’t do it to make a statement… It was simply a reflection of how I felt at the time. It wasn’t until somewhere in the second year, that I started to realize the color was starting to set my mood rather than reflect it. Then, I knew that it was time for me to stop… but not before that.

I have written many times about people being uncomfortable with my grief and wanting me to “put it aside”, so to speak. I’m not sure if that is for my benefit as much as it just makes them more comfortable not to be confronted with it. (I understand… It’s hard to see someone you love struggling with sadness and grief.)

In fact, many of you have written to me stating the same thing. Yes, we are sad… We are grieving… But the best way to heal is not by ignoring those feelings or shoving them down deep inside. Honestly, I found expressing my grief really was best for me… And I did so with my writing, by sharing stories, in my dress, in my paintings, and so many other ways that I can’t even begin to name them all.

My point, though, is this… If you are grieving, then do so with no apologies to anyone else. Let yourself feel what you feel. Then, be honest about those emotions so you can keep moving forward. Like me with the black clothes… It was a good thing in the beginning because it let me express myself in my own quiet way. However, once I realized it was no longer an expression of my feelings, but instead was swaying my emotions, I knew it was time to stop…

That is what I mean… It’s okay to feel what you feel… And no one has the authority or right to tell you when to stop… You just keep doing those things that help you move forward… Even it it’s baby steps… And that’s okay!

Whether you are new to this group or whether you have been visiting with us for a while, I am sorry for the reason you are here. I hate it for you… and for all of us. This is not a path any of us want to be on. Yet, here we are. This journey is an odd one – filled with challenges we never imagined. We never know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger. That can sometimes make this journey feel even more lonely. Yet, there are other times when I know I am not alone at all. We are here for each other. This journey holds both challenges and peace-filled moments for each of us. Yet, it is actually our love for those we have lost that brings us together to 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… Some “Firsts” Can Be Good

I remember when Bruce first passed away… There were a lot of “firsts” I had to work my way through., such as the first Valentine’s Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, anniversary and birthdays (his and mine). There was also the first time traveling alone, eating out alone and buying a car alone… Not to mention learning to repair appliances, changing the smoke alarm batteries (which involves a very tall ladder), car maintenance, and taking care of the yard.

After a while, I felt I must have hit all the “firsts.” After all, how many “firsts” can there possibly be? A lot, evidently… Because as time has passed, I find myself still encountering a new one every now and then… Such as this weekend.

I must say, these “firsts” were more on the positive side than the ones at the beginning. Or maybe I am finally able to find the silver lining that makes them feel more positive…

Over the years, I have been to many Jimmy Buffet concerts… And most of those with Bruce. We went to see him every year – tailgating in full Parrothead style with fins, coconuts bras, grass skirts, shrimp, and (of course) our own tikibar with “frozen concoctions.” It was something we looked forward to all year and was always too much fun!

When Bruce passed, I just assumed my Parrothead concert days were over. But this weekend proved that to be wrong…

A few months ago, when the Jimmy Buffet 2017 concert dates for Florida were announced, my daughter bought 3 tickets – one for her, my grandson and me. I must admit I had a few mixed feelings about going – feeling both anxious and excited…

What if I couldn’t bring myself to go? What if I did go, but I missed Bruce too much to have fun? And worst of all, what if I ruined it for my daughter and grandson?

On the other hand, my own kids were introduced to their first Buffet concerts around seven and eight, so it just seemed right to introduce my grandson to this family tradition. He already loves Jimmy Buffet and can sing along to most of his songs… I knew I wanted to do this, and I knew Bruce would love knowing his little Boudreaux is a Parrothead, too.

As this weekend got closer, my daughter and I discussed how we wanted to do this… How to introduce him to the Parrothead culture without exposing him to the parts that are not exactly child-friendly. So… instead of tailgating, we opted for dinner at Margaritaville. And instead of coconuts bras and grass skirts, we opted for Jimmy Buffet T-shirts, leis and Parrothead hats (or a Sharkhead in Michael’s case).

We had assumed he would most likely fall asleep about halfway through the show, but he proved us wrong… Instead, he danced and sang his way through with the rest of us, until the last song, when he curled up in his Mommy’s arms and fell sound asleep.

I couldn’t have asked for better! I was back in that Parrothead world. I was able to share it with people I love. Granted, there were a few tears for Bruce in the middle of “One Particular Harbor” and “Son of a Son of a Sailor,” but that’s okay… I’m allowed those moments. However, all in all, there were enough differences to help me enjoy creating new traditions, and enough similarities to feel Bruce’s presence right beside me…

It was perfect!… That was a new (dare I say it) positive “first.”

Then, we have today – Mother’s Day. In the years since Bruce died, I have usually spent this day alone. Don’t get me wrong – It’s been fine. My kids always remember me with cards, flowers, phone calls and Skype. They do remind me I am loved and appreciated… They are absolutely wonderful, and I love them for all of that.

But this year, circumstances have changed… This year I have 2 more people living in my house… This year I am not alone… And today has been great!

My kids who live far away have reached out to me – we have talked by phone or Skype… These conversations absolutely mean the world to me. I have, also, had the pleasure of sharing today’s celebration with my daughter and grandson.

We started by sleeping in. (Of course, in seven year old terms, that is 8 AM… But in his defense, in GG terms, 8 AM is late, so all is good.) Then, he had snuggles for all of us… a picnic and time to chill at the beach… And to top it off, he (the youngest “grill-master”) is planning to grill pork chops for us for dinner – “Cause y’all deserve it,” he so sweetly says.

And, once again, another perfectly, positive first…

For me, that’s kind of cool – realizing that there is still a lot of life to live… and enjoy…

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way. Have you ever found yourself wondering when all these “firsts” will ever end? Have you reached that point where the “firsts” don’t all need to be dreaded or feared? If so, would you be willing to share your experience, there may be someone else out there who needs to hear it. If you are someone who needs 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… Another First

How do I live without your love?
One breath at a time…
~ Linda, December 28, 2013

After 2.5 years, I thought I had hit all the “firsts” associated with losing Bruce. However, this week I find myself facing another. My 35th high school reunion is this weekend. I’ve only been to one other… 5 years ago, when I attended my 30th reunion.

I went alone back then because Bruce had to work. However, going alone when you are married and madly in love with your husband is very different than going alone as a widow. To say I am feeling intimidated would be a huge understatement.

Don’t get me wrong… I was also nervous five years ago. In high school, I had been the straight-A nerdy kid who sat quietly in the front row. I had not been in contact with most of my classmates and I had no idea what to expect. Going alone was nerve-racking but Bruce helped instill such a “you-can-do-this” attitude (plus one of my daughters traveled and stayed in the hotel with me), so I didn’t mind pushing myself past my comfort zone.

I am so glad I did, because I had a blast! Five years ago, I met people I had never hung out with before, but my class seems to be a tight-knit group and everyone was wonderful!

When the talk on Face Book started about this reunion, I decided right away, I wasn’t going… not alone… not as a widow. I convinced myself that (a) I was too busy to spend 14 hours driving just to spend a few hours spent at a reunion; (b) I didn’t need to spend the money, etc. This list went on and on. (I can be the queen of excuses when I choose to be.)

Then, life started nudging me. The excitement between my classmates on Face Book started growing. (And I remembered how much fun I had five years ago.) Somehow in the class I am training this week, reunions came up. In the conversation, I mentioned mine and stated I wasn’t going. When they asked why, I tried to explain myself to this group of young adults and found myself stumbling… I didn’t really have a good reason.

After all, as a life coach and mentor, I knew exactly what I was doing. I was avoiding… I was running away – something I always do when I am down-to-my-core scared…

What was I scared of? Scared of going alone, scared of being treated different, scared of not fitting in, scared of being left on the edge – looking in – watching everyone else have fun… just plain scared of the whole thing.

Let me explain.

I’ve learned to go lots of places alone – most places actually. Sometimes that turns out okay and sometimes it is downright bad. It seems to depend on the connection I have with the people I am with. Sometimes I am treated like everyone else and I have a blast. Other times, there is an awkward energy and I feel like a fifth wheel. What if this is one of those awkward times? What if…

I know it probably sounds silly. But even so, these feelings are real… I have to deal with them. If I am honest; if I want to keep growing and moving forward, I need to face my fears, not run away from them… again. I’ve been working on this since Bruce passed… and here it is again.

So you know what I did, right?

I called my son and asked if he wanted to take a weekend trip with me! LOL! Yep, I’m going… but I’m taking some support. I don’t need him to go to the reunion. I just need him close by in case I need a hug… or a shove. : )

Yes… I am well aware that I needed Bruce to be close by on my first KW trip, and my daughter on my first class reunion… and now my son on my first reunion as a widow. I’m okay with that… The bottom line is I’m going. That is huge right now!

And now, the rest of the story…

So I went… I can’t say it was the best night of my life, (no one’s fault… just my own nerves) but it wasn’t the worst either. My son was great encouragement before I left… offering several times to go with me since I was so anxious. As tempting as his offer was, I knew I needed to do this alone. So off I went…

Pushing myself out of the car was a little hard, but I did it. I walked in alone, and I waited in the line alone. I talked to a couple of people, but I couldn’t find my group of friends I was supposed to meet there. Over an hour passed. I felt so out of place… and I started to lose it.

I could feel the tears behind my eyes. What was I thinking? Why did I think this was a good idea? I decided to leave and walked out to my car.

Once safely inside and away from public view, the tears flowed… I couldn’t stop them. All I could think was how much I hate this. I hate the way I feel without Bruce… I hate the way my self-confidence can plummet for no reason at all.

I can’t tell you why, but as I sat there, I started coaching myself… I started telling myself the things I would tell my clients. I won’t go into detail, but within 15 – 20 minutes, the tears were done, and I was headed back inside with a new attitude.

I still felt conspicuous… I still felt like people were staring at me like I have 2 heads, but I just smiled, said hi and kept plowing on. I approached people and talked to them instead of waiting for them to approach me. (NOT my comfort zone!) And, thankfully, it didn’t too long until I found my friends. : ) (Yay!) The rest of the night was spent laughing with my high school girl friends.

My victory? I stayed. I didn’t run away. (That was HUGE!) And I not only survived, I proved something to myself…

When I remember to have faith in myself, I am stronger than I think.

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

* 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.