Tag: guilt

Peace, Love, and Grief – Reminders of Life

I had lost a few people I loved before Bruce. I had experienced the loss of all my grandparents, a great Aunt, and a child. Except my child, most were what we would consider “normal” in the cycle of life. The thing was, I never really grieved them. No one walked me through it… In fact, no one even gave me permission to grieve them.

The message that I received from my parents and their faith was that I should rejoice that my loved ones were “in a better place” and “it was a blessing”. I can’t tell you how I felt about it, because honestly, I didn’t question it at the time… with the exception of the loss of my child. That one was a struggle for years… To be told that one’s emotions and sadness are somehow wrong or bad is awful, and I resented not being allowed to grieve that loss.

It was also very unhealthy not to grieve those losses, as I learned when Bruce died… Suddenly all the hurt and pain of those other losses were felt all over again, only this time, I refused to be told how to feel or act. Within the first several months, I realized that I would have to process my feelings from the past losses before I could even begin to work through my grief for Bruce…. And so, I did… It was not quick, and it was not easy.

All of that grief felt so overwhelming… It felt like I couldn’t even breathe just thinking about all of it. I wanted the world to stop… just for a little while until I could catch up to it… But we all know that doesn’t happen. No matter how badly we are hurting the world continues on… Life goes on.

(Now a days, I find myself looking at the people passing me by, and I wonder how many of them are dealing with deep hurt in that very moment… And what can I do to help? Say hello? Offer a smile? A kind nod or gesture?)

I struggled for a long time to move forward… I couldn’t seem to find my footing on a path that I didn’t want to be on in the first place. There were so many days that first year where simply breathing felt like a miracle… and getting out of the bed and going about my day… Those were even bigger miracles!

Oh my gosh!! And all the emotions that go with grief! No one warns you about that. I had no idea that my own emotions could flip around so much in the course of one ordinary day… but they did. In fact, one of the hardest things to overcome was my own judgmental reactions to myself. For example, during that first year or two, if I smiled or laughed, my immediate reaction to myself was to shut it down… fast! How dare I find any joy in this world when Bruce was no longer here to feel joy. I would start to smile only to remind myself that Bruce no longer had the chance to smile… Knowing that, how could I even think of smiling?

All of that may sound crazy, but it was how I felt… I was so caught up in what he could no longer do, that I forgot… (or wouldn’t allow myself) to live my own life… The one still in front of me… The one with promise and hope… Although, that promise and hope seemed invisible at the time.

I found it hard to enjoy the flowers as they blossomed that first spring remembering how much Bruce looked forward to that whole season. After so many years of Michigan winters, spring always brought a smile to his face that lasted the entire season.

While singing had always been a huge part of who I was as a person, suddenly, I couldn’t do it. Music had always held so much joy for me, but without Bruce, joy only brought guilt… and I literally couldn’t bring myself to sing for years.

Why am I telling you this now? … Because in the last few years, I am finally learning to enjoy life again – without the guilt from before. With lots of love and patience from friends and family, I am finally able to drop all the self-chastisement and “give myself permission”, if you will, to not only live again, but to actually enjoy the process… To look for the little things that bring me joy and to say thank you to the Divine for each and every one…

And with spring finally here again, I can look at all the beautiful reminders of life and know – truly know deep in my heart – that life is still beautiful and wonderful… and something to be treasured as I truly and completely live each moment I am given.

“When my own mama died, I spent a lot of time on the beach staring at the water until I learned what I was supposed to. And I did. I finally figured out that when the waves come ashore and wipe away all the footprints, it’s like God telling you that starting again is part of life.”
~ Karen White, The Sound of Glass

________________________________________________________
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. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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

* Be advised that all comments are subject to approval prior to posting. Any comments determined to be spam or not in accordance with the mission of this website/blog will not be approved or posted. Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… It’s Complicated

In the dictionary, grief is defined as “deep sorrow, especially that caused by someone’s death,” with a second definition of “trouble or annoyance.” … Speaking from experience, both are right, and both apply here. Grief is deep sorrow caused by death, and it creates a lot of trouble and annoyance.

This week, while listening to “The Dead Drink First” by Dale Maharidge on my work commute, there was a quote that caught my ear. The speaker was a WWII vet, and basically, he said that the dead are not the ones who suffer; their suffering has ended; it is those who love them… those who are left behind who truly suffer. I couldn’t agree more.

Throughout the years on this journey, I have gone through every emotion on the planet. In the beginning I was completely numb – going through the motions of life, but not able to grasp what was really happening. It’s weird… I can remember people telling me how strong I was. I wasn’t… I was numb… I was completely dead inside. I kept thinking this had to be a dream, and I just needed to get to the end and wake up. Then, everything would be okay. Then, Bruce would be right there beside me, and I would be able to snuggle up in his arms and kiss his cheek.

But that didn’t happen…

Instead, after a couple of months, the grief (“deep sorrow”) actually started to set in. I was alone… I started each day alone, and I ended each day alone. When I looked at what lay ahead, my life looked a road filled with being alone.

This led to feelings of abandonment. I remember feeling abandoned by Bruce, abandoned by God, and abandoned by the world, (who, if you remember, is thinking I am “strong” and doing okay). Which, of course, only created “annoyance.” Then, the anger started. It began deep in the pit of my stomach, and quickly flowed into every thought.

Day after day, it was always the same – wake up, work out, go to work, come home, go to bed. Life seemed bleak and pointless… I didn’t understand why I was still here, and Bruce was gone. I couldn’t figure out what my purpose was… I couldn’t seem to find hope anywhere.

Now, the world started to take notice and think something was wrong. After all, I had been doing so well. What in the world was wrong with me? Most people had no idea this was the grief, just starting to settle in. This was actually normal. This was the “deep sorrow” and the “trouble and annoyance.” And, honestly, this delayed response is more “normal” than one might think.

You see, the sudden, (aka – unexpected), loss of someone you love knocks you off your feet. I can remember feeling like the rug had been pulled out from under me, and I wasn’t sure how it happened or why. Then, once I realized what my reality was, it felt like the last pages of my book, my story, had been ripped out. It is an awful feeling, and one I struggled with for a long time, as I tried to get my bearings and find a renewed purpose.

Then, there was the guilt. I later heard someone say that it isn’t unusual for the surviving loved ones to feel guilt or blame, because these emotions offer us a sense of control in the situation. It makes us feel as if there is a chance things could have been different… Maybe it could have been prevented. This didn’t just happen. No, someone is at fault… And in my case, it was me.

After all, I was the one who was sleeping beside him when it happened. I was the one who couldn’t wake up fast enough or call 911 fast enough. I was the one who struggled trying to get him into a position so I could do CPR… And, ultimately, I was the one who failed… In his last moments, when he needed me most, I failed. He died, and I couldn’t stop it. (Honestly, I am still crying as I write this part… I think I will always feel guilt for not being able to save him.)

It didn’t matter that the Medical Examiner told me no one could have saved him. His condition required a heart transplant, so when his heart stopped, it stopped. “No one,” he emphasized over and over, “could have saved him that night.” Yet, I have struggled with this guilt for years.

It has been a slow process, but through the years, I have come to terms with my reality. I have learned to laugh and enjoy life. It’s hard to really define my purpose, but I believe, I am here to just be kind and show love to others… At least for now.

At this point, I have a lot more good days than bad… And even the bad days, don’t linger like they used to. I am better at recognizing when I need time for me and when I need to be with others. I am better at recognizing that I am responsible for how I handle my grief, and no one else.

It’s been quite the journey, and I know it’s not over. While in the beginning I couldn’t see how I would manage, now I know I can’t just quit at life because he is gone. Life keeps going, and I want to be a part of it.

All that being said, I miss him… and I think I will always miss him.

This is just a small snippet of what grief is like… It is a small piece of my experience, but everyone’s path is unique. Everyone’s grief is different… However, it is always a jumble of emotions that come and go. Most people refer to these as waves of grief… or aftershocks. Sometimes, they are just small twinges and other times they are as strong as the initial blow and will knock you off your feet. The worst part is you never know when they will hit or why. There is no real rhyme or reason. For me, I am learning that when I am tired or frustrated, I am more vulnerable to these, but that isn’t always the deciding factor. It can be a song or smell, a place or someone’s mannerisms… Any number of things that suddenly bring Bruce to my mind, and then just as quickly, I think how much I still miss him and wish he were still here…

In other words, it is complicated…

“Grief is more than missing someone; it is an unrelenting ache for reality to be different and for the impossible to come true.” ~ Anonymous

What about you? What has your grief journey been like? What has been your biggest obstacle? How do you handle those moments when the memories flood in and threaten to take over your reality? Have you found a way to balance your grief with your current life? I know there isn’t a schedule, and everyone heals in their own time, but that doesn’t make this journey any easier. I believe this is where we can help each other… By sharing our stories and experiences, we can all feel validated and supported. Please feel free to reach out and 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… On Boundaries

This week has been a perfect storm… It has been the kickoff of the hardest season of the year for me – a time of celebrations and special days where every few days I am hit with the knowledge that I am here and Bruce is gone. It has also been the week leading up to the full moon… I know there is evidence on both sides of this fence, but from my own experience, the few days prior to the full moon seem to always trigger sadness in me. (Usually, though, I don’t know why I am feeling that way until I finally get the chance to see the moon.) And finally, this has been the week I am supposed to start saying “no” at least once a day.

WHAT???

Yes, you heard me… I have been working on myself lately, and learning how to set boundaries. That may sound pretty basic, but it is something I just never seemed to learn. I grew up in a strict home, (which is fine). It just meant (in our home) children didn’t dare say “no” to anything. Then, in my first marriage, it was the same. He was in charge, and I knew the consequences of crossing him. “No” was not an option there either… The difference is as an adult, “no” should be an option.

When I married Bruce, however, life was different. He not only accepted the fact that I had a mind of my own, he encouraged me to speak up. He never got angry if I disagreed or said “no.” In fact, he was amazingly supportive in that area… In those few years together, my confidence grew as my ability to speak up grew.

BUT, when Bruce died, I lost that… I don’t know why but when he died and I lost his support, I also lost my confidence. Throughout these last few years, I have said over and over how I felt I went backward emotionally when he died… And This is one of the main areas where I lost my footing. The problem has been I know how I feel, but without that deep genuine support (which I didn’t know how to ask for) I felt I couldn’t speak up.

Instead, I have held things in until I exploded in some type of gross display of self-righteous anger… knowing I was leaving hurt in my wake, but not knowing how to do it any different. This has been even more prominent in my grief… Things have happened which were hurtful, but rather than speaking up, I have held my emotions in until I exploded… The problem is I have been too caught up in my own pain to see the pain I have been causing others… until lately…

If this has never been an issue for you, then this probably sounds nuts. However, if you were always told to “be a good girl,” “don’t be mean,” and definitely “don’t cross others,” then you know exactly what I am talking about… Learning to speak up for myself in a way that is not hurtful to others is a learned skill… one I am still working on.

So, I have been working with a mentor/coach while reading the books Emotional Intelligence 2.0 by Bradberry and Greaves and Boundaries by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend to help me make sense of something I don’t understand but genuinely want to fix about myself…

Briefly, I’d like to share some of the things I have learned. First, there are three main obstacles to setting boundaries. People who struggle with setting boundaries usually do so because of one (or more) of these… (For me, it seems to be all three.):

1. A fear of the loss of the relationship (or abandonment). If this is you, it is scary to set limits because you worry you the whole relationship will fall apart. However, this can also leave you feeling like you are a hostage to the relationship. So, what can you do? First, don’t feel like you must be the “fixer.” Instead, broaden the number of people you depend on… People who can empathize – who are willing to just be with you and listen without trying to give solutions… People who understand advice is good, but it has a place and that place is second! Having that safe place to vent, allows you to think things through/talk things out without fear of judgement, making it easier to set necessary limits. (You’d be surprised what a big deal this is!)

2. A fear of conflict – If this is you, conflict avoidance is your game. Here’s the thing… We are taught about conflict in our families of origin. However, if we are taught that we are not allowed to be mad, and we are responsible for other people’s happiness, then instead of learning that conflict can be a good thing, we learn that conflict is bad. This is how “people pleasers” are created. The problem is people pleasers do not set boundaries. Instead, they “train” the people around them to get mad in order to get what they want from the people pleaser. So, bravery is required here… Again, having support will us be courageous when it comes to conflict.

3. Guilt – If this is you, setting boundaries, leaves you feeling guilty. There is a fear that our boundaries may somehow damage the other person, and the last thing we want is to hurt those around us. But here is some food for thought… There is a huge difference between “hurt” and “harm.” They are not the same thing. Sometimes things may hurt in the short term, but help us in the long run. Hurt can allow for growth through honest feedback, but the long run, it creates a more harmonious relationship. Harm, on the other hand, does long term damage. When we confuse these two, it leads to mistrust and seeing others as more fragile than they really are. The best answer here is to respect the other person enough to be honest without being hurtful… Give the other person enough respect to let them adapt to the “no.”

Finally, if abuse is a part of your history (as in my first marriage) it can be even more important to find help and support from others in order to create and keep boundaries… Someone to help “hold you up” when you feel like giving up. This was what Bruce did for me for years… He not only supported me, he encouraged me to set boundaries and never got angry or upset with me when I did. This gave me the courage and to say “no”… And for the first time, I felt like I had some type of control. Why? Because I didn’t have to worry about being abandoned, OR an argument or being made to feel guilty… His support was priceless.

But when he died, somehow I lost all I had learned… So here I am at 55, working on setting boundaries. Each week I have had “homework” to help me figure this out one baby step at a time. For example, last week, I simply monitored each time I wanted to say “no” but didn’t. This week, I was supposed to say “no” or set a limit at least once a day.

This is where I stumbled…

I’m not used to speaking up. So, to me when I try to speak up, it seems to come out all wrong. It’s not like writing, Here I have a rough draft that sounds awkward and rough, but I can rewrite it as many times as I need to before anyone “hears” it. No… when I am talking, I only get one shot, and right now, it just feels awkward.

I won’t lie… I am extremely uncomfortable with this. So many times this week I wanted to give up and go back to my old habits… But that really isn’t what I want – not deep down. At this point in my journey, I desperately want to be more positive… and to do so, I need to be able to do this for myself. So, here I am walking into another week and trying again… Knowing my heart will be hurting even more this week as Bruce and my anniversary approaches, but also knowing I can do this…

With the right mindset (and support) … I know I can do this.

Let me say how thankful I am for this group. Your notes and messages always touch my heart, and I feel close to you through the experiences we share. Through these stories and the thoughts we share, I hope others will realize what they feel is normal… We are all dealing with some pretty intense, emotional stuff, and none of us needs to handle this alone. Learning to navigate this journey is different for each of us. It brings its individual challenges and lessons. Through it we come to realize we are stronger than we thought we were. If any of this feels familiar, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

* 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… When their next breath depended on you

Earlier this week I saw an article on line about a rescue worker who responded to a call. He immediately begin performing CPR, then realized he was working on a loved one. He became so emotionally overwhelmed, he had to let his partner take over. There were hundreds of comments following the article – some showing support and compassion for the man, but many others judging and criticizing the man for becoming too overwhelmed to continue.

For me, the article hit way to close to home. In fact, it shook me up so badly, I can’t really remember any more details than what I have written. I can’t remember what type of emergency responder he was or who the love one was. But the comments at the bottom, keep echoing through my head… and dragging out the memories of that night…

I remember waking shortly after midnight. We were still snuggled up, but Bruce sounded like he was having a nightmare. I remember trying to wake him. I called his name and shook him hard several times. As I was reaching across him to turn on the bedside lamp, he seized up, then went suddenly limp. I was frozen for a moment – not quite sure what to do. My instinct was to call 911. However, I also knew if I was over-reacting, he would be so upset with me. (Keep in mind, this debate in my mind took less than .5 second.)

I called 911.

Some of my memories of that night are foggy while others are as sharp as if it all just happened. I remember talking to the dispatcher while racing to open the front door for the EMS crew. I remember the dispatcher asking if Bruce was still breathing… It know it sounds ridiculous, but I couldn’t tell. He sounded like he was trying to breathe but couldn’t catch his breath. Finally, I said, “No, I don’t think he is breathing.” (I remember thinking how stupid I must sound.)

The dispatcher asked if I knew how to do chest compressions. I did. In fact, up until that point, I had been “the” CPR certified person in our office for years. He asked if I could move Bruce to the floor so the compressions would be more effective. I couldn’t – Bruce was a body-builder and more than twice my size. Plus, our bed required stairs for me to got up onto it.

Instead, I had to find something solid and get it under him before I could start the compressions. I found something that would work, but getting it under him was another problem. It took all my strength to roll him onto his side and hold him there while I positioned the board beneath him.

I remember thinking I was wasting SO much time… I needed to move faster.
I finally started the compressions while counting out loud. I was only on 53 or 54 when the EMS team walked in and took over. They immediately moved him to the floor as they took over the compressions and inserted a breathing tube attached to a breathing bag. I realized immediately that the pulse line on their monitor was flat. I watched from a few feet away, as they tried injecting medication directly into his heart… but the line on the monitor stayed flat. Next, they tried the “paddles”… but still, the line on the monitor remained flat.

I remember standing perfectly still… frozen in space and time – completely silent… yet on the inside, I was screaming for him to come back… but I already knew. No one said a word… They didn’t need to – we all knew.

They continued doing CPR as we waited for a police officer to arrive who could drive me to the hospital behind the ambulance. There were no sirens and no one beside me in the squad car… just myself and my worst fear coming true… and I couldn’t make any of it stop.

At the hospital, they led me to a “consultation room.” There was one dimly lit lamp on a table and two couches on opposite walls. I remember sitting there alone at first. I remember I didn’t want to be there. I already knew what the “consulation” would be, and I didn’t want to hear it… I didn’t want to hear those words.

It was only a few minutes before the attending physician came in and said the words that made everything final and real… a confirmation of what I didn’t want to know for sure.

In that moment my world fell apart. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I remember thinking for so many years, Bruce had been my hero – my knight in shining armor – and now, in his moment of crisis, I had failed him.

His next breath had depended on me, and despite everything,… he had died.

Believe me when I say, I know it is hard to lose a spouse. I know it is even harder to watch them take their last breath… I also know the worst is knowing that their next breath… their very life depended on you, but you failed… I know because I failed.

It took several months for the autopsy results to come back. The cause of death was listed as “hypertensive heart disease” – high blood pressure. (Bruce had been on medication for years for his blood pressure.) The Medical Examiner called to further explain his findings… the piece of the puzzle he felt I needed to know.

As he explained it, Bruce’s heart was twice the size it should have been. This was caused by the hypertension. The high blood pressure forces the heart to work harder to pump the blood. The heart like any muscle grows when it works hard… forcing the heart to work harder. Over time, this creates an unhealthy cycle.

The M.E. also asked if anyone had performed CPR on Bruce that night. I told him I had tried, but had failed. As we talked, he was very kind and explained that I was really “too small to be effective at CPR.” He said that CPR is used as an attempt to help someone who is technically already dead and most times is not effective… especially when performed by someone my size on someone Bruce’s size.

However, he went on to explain that, in reality, no one could have saved Bruce that night. Because of his heart size, Bruce needed a heart transplant. Without it, once his heart stopped, there was no way to restart it… no one could have saved him that night… It was already too late.

While my rational mind understands all of this, emotions are not rational. If I am honest, despite the years, my guilt over my own failure remains.

At first, I tried to deal with my guilt by talking about it, but people weren’t really equipped to help. Their response usually sounded something like, “You know you couldn’t have saved him.” (Yes, I know.) “You’ve been told there was nothing anyone could have done.” (True.) “Don’t say that. You know better. Stop thinking like that.” (True, but what I feel and what I know are two different things, and I don’t know how to make it stop.)

Eventually, I quit trying to talk about it… I don’t blame people for being uncomfortable or for the things they said. They were trying. They meant well. (And I appreciate that effort.) They wanted to help by having me look at the facts… The problem was (and is) I know the facts, but that doesn’t help me deal with my emotions. (I, also, know I have said similar things to others when trying to help.)

Besides, if I don’t know what I need to help me through this, how could anyone else?

My rational mind understands all the facts. I have no regrets about our relationship or how we spent our time together. I am thankful that I held Bruce while he took his last breath. I am so thankful I was with him, and he didn’t die alone. However, I think I will always feel that I failed him… The one time he really needed me, I let him down.

I think I will always question myself and wonder, “What if…”

After being coached and being a coach to others, I know that regret and guilt are emotions that get us no where. They are not productive emotions. They cause us to bog down where we are – unable to move forward because we are spending too much time looking behind.

Most days, I try to stick to the rational thoughts and ignore the emotional side of that experience. However, when I read the comments following the article this week, so many of those feelings re-surfaced stronger than ever. People were so quick to judge… so quick to say what (they believe) they would do. I think we all want to believe we would be “the hero” – do the “right thing” – “save the person in need.”

I thought I knew what I would do. I thought I was prepared to “be there”… to help anyone if needed. I was wrong. I learned that’s not the way life always turns out. What we think we would do and what really happens is often light years apart. This week, I found myself wondering what these same people would think of me. What would they say? What about the people in my life? The ones who loved Bruce, too?

Knowing all that I know… having experienced this for myself and knowing the reality of it, there are (many) days when I am terrified of ever finding myself in such a situation again. I know that learning to trust myself again and being able to forgive myself are a big part of my healing process…

And I am still working on that.

What about you? Did you have any guilt or regrets that you would be willing to share? Or any advice on coming to terms with the guilt or regrets?

Please share your story with us… 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

* 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… Halloween…

For most of my life (until Bruce died), Christmas was always my favorite holiday. However, the season always started way before December… For me, Halloween has always marked the beginning of a season filled with several holidays, big events and continual fun and excitement with Christmas being the climax. To this day, I am so very thankful for the last holiday season Bruce and I shared.

This weekend was Halloween… As I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, it is the start of what has been an emotional roller coaster since Bruce passed. But this year as I prepare for the holiday, I find I can look back and find things that make me smile….

I remember in Michigan, there were no Trick or Treaters. We lived in a second floor condo which required a code to enter the building. There were no children in the building except my (then) teenage daughter and no way for anyone to enter.

When we moved to another state, we lived in an apartment for the first year and with the exception of my grandson and a group of teenagers (who knocked on our door at 10 PM) no one came. Then, we moved to the house where I am now.

I knew there were a lot of children in the neighborhood, so I bought three huge bags of candy and tried to prep Bruce for what was probably coming. All he heard was “candy.” As soon as he realized it was hidden in the house somewhere, it was “game on”… He went hunting, and found it in the third place he looked. (He laughed as he told me that the fact that I am so short narrowed the hiding places down by more than half. Then, he just had to think of where there might be enough space for three huge bags.) Needless to say, by Halloween, I had to replace one of those bags.

That Halloween, he grouched every time the doorbell rang. I laughed and fussed at him for being a crabby, old man. The next year – our last Halloween – was so different, though. He was so excited. He LOVED answering the door and talking to all the kids (even the teenagers). He even jumped out and tried to scare a few. It was such a fun night.

Now looking back, I don’t know if he was just trying to enjoy Halloween or if he knew something was wrong and wanted to leave me with some fun memories. Either way – all I know is it was a such a wonderful night!

The first year without Bruce was a change… a huge change. Actually, it was a challenge that I wasn’t expecting. After all, Halloween is a kid’s holiday. It really isn’t about adults, and in all honestly, we had only had one really fun Halloween together.

But even that first year, according to my journal I recognized that this would be the start of a rough few months…

(Written the morning of 10/31/2013)

“The first of the holidays – this one always feels like the “kick-off” for the holiday season. I don’t really feel like celebrating but I did buy candy.

People don’t get it… they can’t. They can’t because they haven’t been here yet. I feel like everyone has this expectation that I should be a ‘good little widow’ and just be okay… whatever that is! Guess what… I’m not! I’m not okay! My brain doesn’t analyze or function the same way anymore. I don’t feel like “me” anymore.

The weird part is yesterday was actually okay. It was the first day this week I didn’t cry all day. Then I wake up this morning and I just feel pissed. I don’t think this will be a good day… not really looking forward to it – don’t really feel like festivities or anything like it.”

(Written the night of 10/31/2013)

“Halloween without you, Babe! Too hard!! I miss you!! I keep thinking about you answering the door last year and all the fun. This year is hard, though. I am listening to Jimmy Buffet and wishing you were here… Six kids so far and I am crying. Maybe I should just turn out the light and call it a night.
So sad… just so very sad…

What is – is… nothing I do will ever change it. I feel like I shouldn’t be here but I am… maybe one day I will understand why I am still here.

Just so you know, Babe… I went to the neighbor’s for chili and wine earlier tonight. They are so sweet and kind to me. I am blessed to have them here. In case you’re wondering, they are taking good care of me, Babe.”

And now this year…

This year I spent Halloween with my grandson, one of my daughters and my son-in-law.

(Written on Sunday 11/1/2015)

“Hi Babe… This weekend was really good for me. I couldn’t be with you but I was with people I love. I’m sure you would guess that we stayed very busy. Trick or Treating was pushed forward a day early since it was supposed to rain on Saturday. You would have loved watching our grandson… he was more excited about his costume and handing out the candy than actually going door to door to get any (which just cracks me up.) Afterward, there was an impromptu party back at D’s house. It sounds crazy but it was wonderful chaos – the house was filled with very tired but laughing adults and kids too excited to settle down.

Saturday included an Octoberfest at their school/church. You would have loved it – German food and beer. Their German potato salad was good (but not as good as yours!) You would be proud… I only teared up once… when the kids performed their Fall music program. I know you were there… I know you were watching… but I still wish I could have held your hand and seen your face. You and your “Boudreaux” had such a close connection, I know you would have been beaming with pride.

The night ended with a dinner party at a friend’s house. It was fun, and they made me feel so welcome. Usually I feel like a fifth wheel at those things, but I didn’t this time. I can’t say I like it but I am getting (more) used to going to parties without you by my side…

It wasn’t until the wee, dark hours of the night when I was actually alone with my thoughts that the tears fell. My emotions were a mix of melancholy, sadness, loneliness and (believe it or not)… guilt. I miss you so much, Babe, and the idea that I still managed to have fun, leaves me feeling guilty. Crazy, I know but that is what I felt. I wonder if that is normal? I wonder if that will be the emotion I struggle with this year?”

I don’t know the answer to that question, although I would guess it is normal. If there is anyone out there who knows or has been there, I would love to hear from you… I’m sure there are a lot of us that would to hear from you.

In the meantime, I need to breathe… I have 8 days to get myself emotionally prepared for the next big day.

How do YOU manage your big days? I would love to hear from you… 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Something unexpected

Happiness is not a destination;
It is a way we can choose to travel on this journey called life.
~ Linda, September 29, 2013

Originally I had a completely different idea for this week’s blog. However, as you know, life takes its own path and has presented something new this week. Since this blog is about sharing my journey, openly and honestly, this is something I feel compelled to share.

Last week I talked about the different emotions we all encounter on this journey. Up until now, those emotions have come in waves… sometimes as tsunamis. Some days I am drowning and other days I manage to stay afloat. This week, however, was completely different… a complete surprise.

I started keeping a journal when Bruce passed away, I think my entry this morning, may be the best way to share this week’s experience with you…

Hi Babe,

A few tears last night and this morning… I miss you. I wish you were still here. I rearranged the pillows on the bed last night so I could try to sleep in our “snuggle” position. It helped a little… but your breathing was missing, your body heat was missing and the way you would pull me close and gently stroke my arm and back were missing. Actually, it was all missing…

I’m glad I went to the grocery store last night so I don’t have to go anywhere today. Three weeks of steady, non-stop go go go… I need a day to get out of my head and into my soul to reconnect with me. There is so much going on right now. I need today so I can slow down and regroup. I have been traveling so much and today I need to be in our space. I need some space and time to cry and write and think about us. I miss you… I miss us. This is one of those days when I just want my life back.

(Up to now, this probably sounds familiar doesn’t it? Ever have those days? Keep reading; this is the good part!)

I’ve actually had a whole week of good days! Seven days in a row – THAT is a first!! : ) I think that is progress. I still missed you everyday; I still thought about you constantly, but I wasn’t crying – there was a peace and even happiness with myself. It’s hard to explain… it wasn’t a “happy-go-lucky, love-that-all-this-happened” kind of happiness. It was more of a “I-like-the-direction-I-am-taking-with-my-life” kind of happiness. I can’t change what has happened, but I can create something good out of something bad and THAT is a miracle.

Does that even make sense? So many times there is a guilt associated with being happy – as if I am never allowed happiness again in this lifetime… but that isn’t me. Before you died, I was a very happy person… Shoot, I am a happy person – it’s just part of who I love to be. However, whenever someone has said, “You’re doing so well.” I have felt guilty. I want to say, “No, wait!” I have felt the need to explain that was really not accurate… I still cry… a lot… just not in front of everyone. I’m not really “doing so well.” I’m just better at keeping it to myself.

No more guilt. I am thankful for the days when I feel good. I don’t need to worry if that is “okay” with someone else or what they think of it. It doesn’t matter if they understand that “happy” has a slightly different meaning now. It is good for me, and I know you want me to be happy… Heck, you did everything in your power to make me happy every moment we were blessed to spend together.

I do still miss you and I do still cry. (Today is one of those days.) But it’s okay to feel happy again. It takes nothing away from us, who we were or how much I still love you… It’s a good thing.

I love you, Babe! Always and forever! xxxooo

This was a first for me… to be blessed with so many good, genuinely happy days in a row. I never thought this would happen for me, and I bet there are a lot of people out who have either been here or are still waiting. Either way, if this is to be a community where we share our experiences in order to help each other, then don’t hesitate to share yours. Please, go to the comments and leave a note, comment or question.

Also, while this blog is weekly, I have added a Facebook page of the same name for daily motivations. Just something quick and fast to lift our souls.
www.facebook.com/peaceloveandgrief