healing – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Healing

Grief is so complicated. Depending on where I find myself on this journey, the challenges are different. However, the thing that seems to be a constant is seeking some kind of healing from the pain. If I think about it, I suppose the things that I have found challenging along the way have helped me to get closer to that goal. After all, isn’t that what challenges do? Help us grow?

In the case of grief, though, there is also the underlying issue that no one else can take your hand and lead you… Each journey is unique unto that person and the relationship with the person who has died.

I have said before that I am a “list person”. Give me a list of tasks to reach my goal, and I will get there. I can do that. So, at the start of this whole messy journey, I went searching for just such a list. One where I could do A, B, and C, and pronto… all better – ready to move on.

I learned quite quickly, there is no such list for grief. Sure, I found lists of ideas that would help express my grief, and they did. But a list to follow and heal my grief? No… that list does not exist. So, if you are reading this, hoping I will give you that list, I apologize for disappointing you. Instead, my goal today is to simply introduce a phrase I am just recently learning to apply but that I wish I had heard sooner…

Is what I am doing sustaining my grief or alleviating my grief?

Let me give you an example… Normally, I love color… lots of color. Yet, when Bruce died, despite the eye rolls behind my back, I started wearing black… every day. It was a way of expressing the depth of my despair without saying a word… I didn’t have words yet. My pain was too raw… too intense… But the black I was wearing definitely reflected the darkness I was feeling. It helped… a lot.

When I was approaching the one-year mark, though, I started finding myself looking at some of my other clothes – the colorful ones. Then, in complete anger pushing them aside and choosing the black ones. Then, one day it dawned on me… Why not add a little bit of color and just see what happens?

I will tell you what happened… My mood shifted. You see, somewhere along the line, all of that black had shifted from being an expression of my pain to being a self-inflicted, “you-are-grieving” mandate of my grief. Quickly I came to realize that by no longer “draping myself in my grief”, I was internally giving myself permission to also accept the joy and happiness that life still has to offer.

In other words, somewhere along the line, all that black had moved from alleviating my pain to sustaining it… which was the exact opposite of what I needed… or wanted. I didn’t have the words to express or understand what was happening back then, but I still knew in my gut that it was no longer helping.

I think it was at that point I came to realize that I couldn’t hang onto each thing indefinitely that seemed to be helping in the moment. Instead, I need to evaluate (consistently) what is working and what is no longer working.

That hasn’t always been easy… No, let me rephrase that… It is never easy for me to let go of those things. There is always a part of me that feels guilty about letting them go. Somehow, it seems to feel like I am somehow letting Bruce go… again.

Like I said last week, finding that balance of honoring Bruce and what we had, while still moving forward and living the life I am called to live is hard. This “letting go guilt” is a big part of that. Each time, I question if I am somehow erasing him from history or my own memories, or I wonder if I live life like a “normal” person will people think I don’t care anymore or no longer grieve losing this man I profess to still love.

Like I said, it is a challenge.

I am learning that I need to forget worrying about what others may or may not interpret about my grief. That is their issue – not mine… And it is not healing. Instead, I intend to keep moving forward… and now that I have words with which to analyze what is happening, I feel a wee bit better prepared. This means I am stepping out these days and constantly looking at my actions and thoughts with those words…

… Is this alleviating my grief or sustaining it? Then, making the adjustments needed for my own healing on this path.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult 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. Please do… We are here for you. 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 – The Rug

Trauma… There’s a word that has been popping up in the media a lot lately. It is also a word that has been a part of my story since the first time I went to counseling. In fact, (not surprisingly), it was the actual reason for that initial counseling. But what is trauma…

Trauma is defined on the internet as “a deeply distressing or disturbing experience; emotional shock following a stressful event or a physical injury, which may be associated with physical shock and sometimes leads to long-term neurosis.” That is good… That takes into account the event and the effects. While not as complete, I have defined it for years as “unexpected chaos”… Either way, the event seems to happen with no warning and leaves nothing but destruction in its wake.

If statistics are to be believed, most of us have gone (or will go) through some type of traumatic event at some point in our lives. Some of us will go through several. Honestly, I had never thought about trauma being a piece of my life until that initial session, when my first marriage with its abuse and chaos was defined as traumatic, as well as the loss of our first child and the uproar between the families that ensued. Through the years, there, also, have been other “unexpected chaotic” events which have left their mark.

Each time, I have gotten back up – shaking and stumbling, but determined to keep going… and (seemingly) each time, once I have gotten back up and felt like I had my footing again, someone or something has pulled the rug back out from under me… again.

I have often bragged about the healing that Bruce brought to me and my kids… How his infinite patience and unconditional love allowed us the space to learn how to trust again… how to live again… how to be ourselves… (in other words) how to heal.

The day before Bruce died, he had worked all day. That night, as he ate his dinner, we sat and talked and made our plans for the weekend. We kissed goodnight and snuggled in the bed before falling asleep. To my mind, there was nothing to warn us of what was about to happen in just a few short hours. But happen, it did. Unexpectedly… in the middle of the night, I was awakened to the awful sounds of Bruce dying.

I struggled at first to grasp what was happening, but once I did, my survival instincts kicked in… I called 911. I unlocked the doors. I started CPR. Then, when EMS arrived, I stepped aside and watched as the reality of what was happening (or not happening) started to sink in. I watched the line on the heart monitor remain flat despite all the attempts to save him. I watched as our world fell apart and crumbled at my feet.

There is no doubt that for me this was the most traumatic event of them all…

I feel that I had barely started to heal from all that came before. I had just started to feel confident in who I am. I had just started to understand that adult relationships are supposed to be about balance, mutual respect, and compassion. It wasn’t about power plays or rescuing the other person from their consequences or fixing their world to suit them. I was just starting to grasp, embrace, and live my life with these principles when suddenly… Bruce was gone.

Once again, just when I was starting to stand confidently on my own two feet… just when I was willing to venture out as my own person, that rug was viciously ripped out from under me.

Almost immediately, I felt as if I were thrown back in time… I couldn’t seem to find any of that healing and confidence I had gained with Bruce. Perhaps, I hadn’t learned how to find that within myself yet… Or… maybe (because of the crisis created), I reverted to old patterns of survival. If I am honest, I think it was a bit of both.

I wanted to make Bruce proud. I wanted to “do it right”. I wanted to regain all that I had learned and put it into action… But I couldn’t seem to find my way. You see, I wasn’t just lost in this world without Bruce – I had lost myself.

In the decade since that awful night, I have worked hard to get back to a healthy place again. It has been a slow process… a long journey. There have been times when I thought I couldn’t do it – when I thought maybe “this” was just the way I was built. But… (thankfully) there have been more times when I have focused on Bruce’s legacy and realized that I am stronger than I think… If he believed in me, then I can too.

Throughout this time, there have been other traumatic events… Times when that dang rug was pulled out again… and again… and again… Each time, I have thought, “How do I do this without Bruce… It seems like I am always doing these things without Bruce.”

This year has probably been one of the hardest… It seems like one event right after another – piling up like a cord of wood… And this month even more so, as this round of rug pulling seems to be throwing my very way of life into chaos.

This time, though, is different. I have spent this year working hard on learning to “be” – to be kind, to be honest, to be genuine, to be healthy, to be hopeful, to be… me. I have also found a solid space within my own faith where I am confident, supported, and at peace…

Peace… That is something I have not felt in a very, long time. Sure, the slogan of this blog is, “There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered.” However, learning to live by that slogan has taken some time (and constant hard work).

Yet, after the initial shock of recent events, I really am at peace. Don’t get me wrong, things feel a bit scary and out of my control right now, but I am confident that there is a reason for what is happening. I am choosing to believe that there is something even better on the other side of this situation… And here’s the best part… One way or the other, I have to deal with this. My choices are to do it feeling like a victim with no control in my own life, OR to do it with the confidence that I will be okay. I have chosen the latter… I can do this!

(And while I am absolutely doing this for me, I, also, think Bruce is smiling down and so proud!)

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

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

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

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

Peace, Love, and Grief… The Initial Shock

This week as we prepare to celebrate the Fourth, I keep finding myself reading the news about the collapsed high-rise in South Florida. My mind bounces from the horror of those last few moments for the people inside to the need for the families to understand how and why this happened at all to the pain of the families who have lost or don’t have a final word about their loved ones. The whole thing makes no sense… It’s awful, and I can’t even begin to imagine their pain.

Yesterday, it was announced that the remaining part of the building is too unstable to withstand the coming storm, and the order for demolition has been given. While the Search and Rescue teams will continue, it has been days with no survivors. For the families who have held out hope against hope, all of this has to be devastating… And my heart breaks for each and every one.

I remember that moment when the reality of Bruce’s death was placed in my lap… And yet, I had no idea what that meant… I had no idea of the magnitude of what that would truly involve. I mean, I knew Bruce was dead when we were driving to the hospital. I can remember calling my parents from the backseat of the police car and flatly saying, “Bruce is dead.” I remember the Emergency Room doctor confirming it a short time later, as well as the hospital chaplain who came to “offer comfort.”

However, there is a shock that happens to many of us at that time. I think it is meant to protect us from what we cannot handle… to keep us from going completely mad… People tell us the logical facts of the death before us. Our rational brains understand the words… But the actual comprehension of that loss doesn’t occur for a while… For me, it was months.

I have vague memories of that time, but they feel more like dreams than real life. I can remember wandering from room to room looking for… what? Bruce? Yes? Maybe? I couldn’t tell you, since logically I knew he wasn’t there. At other times I would sit for hours staring at… nothing…Waiting on… nothing… Just unable to move.

“I know what it’s like to look around a room, eyes glassy with pain, and feel so very alone.”
~ Lisa Terkeurst, Forgiving What You Can’t Forget

That went on for months… It wasn’t until that shock started to lift that my mind was finally able to start dealing with the grief and pain. Before that, it was too much to manage. The strange part was throughout all that time, I continued to move through my everyday life doing all the normal, everyday things… Most people thought I was okay… Maybe even “fine.” After all, it had been months. They had no idea that I had simply been in too much shock to actually feel anything yet.

Then, when I finally did start to feel again, it had been a while, and people – those people – were shocked. They couldn’t understand why I wasn’t “over it.”

Sigh…

There was such an avalanche of feelings at that point – anger, heartbreak, fear, loneliness, abandonment, cynicism… You name it, I felt it.

Does that mean everyone’s grief is that way? No… Of course not! Our grief and how we work through it is as personal as our fingerprints. This means we can empathize with someone else’s loss, but we can’t experience it, nor tell them how to experience it… We can only come along beside them and help hold them up as they grieve. To those people who did that for me, I am eternally grateful. For by allowing me the space for my grief, I have been able to heal in my own time, and in my own way.

“It’s hard to move forward when you feel like you never properly said good-bye or resolved your memories.”
~ Sarah Bessey, Out of Sorts

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

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

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

Peace, Love, and Grief – Finding Peace

This weekend has been such a blessing… a blessing I didn’t even know I needed. (And aren’t those sometimes the best blessings of all?)

I came here, to this house at the beach, (on the marsh, actually), to spend some much-needed time with my sister. We’ve been wanting to get together for a while, but with everything Covid, we kept postponing it. Then, last week, we decided we both just needed some sister-time. We are both very careful about where we go and who we are with, so we made the decision to spend a few days together – just the two of us.

That decision was a great one. This has been great! Our time together is always such a blessing – filled with late night talks and more laughter than either of us knows what to with. But that isn’t the only blessing I have found this weekend… It is this place… She is a magical place that has held years of peaceful healing for me… She is Edisto… Or as the locals call her, Edi-slow. And that’s exactly what happens here… Life slows down so you can get your bearings and find your peace once again.

When I was in college and had just broken up with a boyfriend of many years, she was here. I walked her beaches for days while letting her peaceful shores refill my soul. Every year while my kids were growing up, my sister and I would meet here with all the kids and spend a week on her shores. For me, it was my favorite week of the year. It was much-needed time away from the chaos of my first marriage. It was a week to refresh my soul and take a deep breath before I dove back into my life “back home.” and it was a heart-warming time of family and watching our children learn to love this place of sun, shore, and a slower pace of life.

During the three years it took to get divorced, I remember my sister saying, “Go to the beach house… Spend some time by the water and let Edisto do her magic… And I did… a lot! Every time I arrived filled with anxiety and worry. And after a few hours, I left every time with peace once again restored in my heart.

Through the years, the view has changed. My sister has moved from the beach side to the river… Now when I come here, I can still walk the shoreline, but I am blessed with some quiet, porch-sittin’, as well. I love watching the life on the river and in the marsh… And the peace that I have always found here is still here. It is in every salty breath I take. It is in the sunsets over the river and the early morning cup of tea as I sit on the dock watching the world wake up and come to life.

All the cares and anxiety I felt two days ago… gone. The tears I usually cry into my pillow at night… not here. Here, I miss Bruce, and I talk about Bruce. However, I am also at peace about where I have been and where the road ahead might lead. Because here I am reminded that life is precious, and there is something to be cherished in every moment.

Here, I can sit on the porch for hours, mesmerized as I watch the boats and the dolphin travel up and down the river with the tides… And without even realizing when it happened… Without even knowing I needed to be here… Edisto has once again worked her magic and touched my soul.

What about you? Do you have a place that just heals your heart? That touches your soul no matter how broken you might feel? This journey can be hard and confusing. Having a space that feels safe and brings us peace, is such a blessing. Let us know where you go to heal or what you do. We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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.

Things You Taught Me, Part 3

I sat weeping
Big, fat tears,
Heaving sobs…
How could you love me?
… me?

I spent years being told how horrible I was…
So undeserving,
So unlovable.
I have spent a lifetime
Feeling like someone else’s garbage.

I needed you to understand
Why you shouldn’t love me,
But you only held me tighter
As the tears and sobs flowed from my soul.

When my tears began to slow,
You looked me in the eye
And smiled…

STOP!
You don’t understand.

I took a piece of paper.
I crumpled it in a ball
And spread it out again.
Then, I crumpled it again,
And smoothed it out again.
I did this several more times
As you watched in silence…

I tried to smooth it out one final time,
“This is me…
This is what you think you love.”

With a question in your eye,
You replied,
“This is how you see yourself?”
In my shame, I nodded.
“Is there any good in you,” you asked.
I shrugged…

You took a clean piece of paper
And placed it over the wrinkled page.
“This much good?”
I shook my head…
You didn’t understand.

I took the clean page,
And tore off a small corner;
I placed that in the center of the wrinkled page.
“Maybe this much,” I said
As the tears started to fall once again.

You looked at the paper.
You took a breath…
I waited…
Expecting,
But not wanting to hear,
I was right…

Instead,
You wiped my tears.
“You only see the wrinkles –
The mess left from has passed.
But when I look at you,
I only see this part.”
And you gently touched the smooth corner
Sitting in the middle of so many wrinkles…

In that moment,
My heart was made whole,
Because now,
I understood love…
True, unconditional love…
Love that I never knew existed.

This is love! This is how Bruce taught me about love. This is when I first began to understand that I could (and should) have this same expectation of God’s love for me. When I think about all the ways Bruce and I expressed our love for each other, I know this is what I can expect in my relationship with God.

I can remember running to the car or the door when he came home in the evening, because I was so excited to see him. He would always laugh as he drew me into his arms and kissed me. I remember being content to simply sit together – no TV, no talking – just sitting and holding hands for an hour or more… So much love passing back and forth in a simple touch. I remember the safe, secure feeling when I laid in his arms. I remember how strong and powerful he was. Yet, he was always so gentle – so careful to never cause me harm.

He never felt threatened by my questions or my independence, and never demanded his own authority. Ours was a relationship of love, trust and balance… It is what I want in my relationship with God.

Bruce taught me so much about how God loves me and how to love him. God does not relate to me through my “wrinkles,” (aka my“sin”). He is not interested in that at all! Instead, love is his primary characteristic… Which means he doesn’t love me in spite of myself… He loves me because of myself… He loves the very person I am. Of course, he would! (He made me.) If God really is a God of love, then how could his love for me be anything less than Bruce’s love for me?

I remember when you died, Babe, you said you would be by my side for as long as I needed you… I don’t know when that will be… It is hard to admit (because I still love you so much), but I feel I am getting closer and closer to that point.

I love you, Babe… Now and forever!

~ Linda, Journal Entry May 2019

The healing in my life and in my heart over the past few months has been uncanny. I know this journey isn’t over… There will always be more to learn and more hurdles to jump. However, knowing that I am loved… Knowing that this is where Bruce has led me, brings me great peace.

It’s funny how those we love can still direct us even after they are gone. I have been following and exploring Bruce’s legacy for years. To this day, I am still unraveling and learning, and he is still influencing my life.

What about you? Have you ever found yourself reading their books, listening to their music or the things that influenced their lives? What have you learned? This journey can be so very hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Stop! Just Stop…

Most mornings, once I get to work, I enjoy a nice, steamy cup of herbal tea. I get there before most people, so it is a quiet, peaceful way to start the workday. On the particular brand I drink, there are short quotes printed on the paper tabs. This week, one of those tabs read, “Love is an experience of infinity.” So much truth in such a simple statement, and it really hit home with me.

I think it is what I have hoped to help people understand with my writing… Love is not a switch to be turned on and off – It just is… It goes on and on no matter how much time passes…

When Bruce first died, my whole world stopped…

It was like we were cruising down the highway one moment, and suddenly stopped the next. We didn’t even get a chance to put on the brakes to slow down. It was more like hitting a brick wall – head on and at full speed… We went from 70 mph to 0 in an instant. If you can imagine the devastation that would result from such a crash, then maybe you can understand the grief that followed it.

When my world stopped, it took a few days to realize that the world outside had continued on as if nothing had happened… The birds sang. The ocean tides came and went. The sun rose and set. People went to work. People went jogging outside the window. They were laughing and playing and arguing… and living.

I struggled… How could they just keep on going as if nothing had happened? I wanted the world to stop… Just stop… Just for one minute! Just for a moment… Just honor and remember this man who had meant so much to me… This man whom I loved… This man who made up my world… I wanted to shout it out loud. I wanted to yell it from the mountain tops, “Stop! Please, just stop! Just give me a moment… Give him a moment… Just remember… Just for a moment.”

But I didn’t shout, and the world didn’t stop.

I tried to explain how I felt, and the people who cared listened… but they didn’t really get it. They tried… And they said all the “right things” which were supposed to help. I was told, “It will get better,” “Time will heal,” “You will move on in time,” and on and on the sayings went.

But those are just sayings… As time has passed, I must say that it really hasn’t gotten better; time has not healed anything… Not really… and move on from what? From loving him? From missing him? What is that even supposed to mean?

I didn’t and still don’t understand that thought process… Instead, I learned to take my grief to quiet place deep inside. I share it here with you, but that is about it… I don’t really talk about it very often and when I do, it is with a very select group of people.

The truth is my healing has been slow and not what I thought it would be… There is a part of me that will always be frozen in time… Observing life around me and deciding which parts I want to participate in and which I do not. I know how precious and fragile life is and how important it is not to waste a moment of it. This journey has left me feeling more courageous in my choices… And with a deep gratitude for each moment I get to spend with those I love.

The world will never stop for those we love… And we can never stop loving them… And each day the journey continues, and life becomes a little more real.

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

What about you? Did you experience that feeling of needing the world to stop? Do you ever feel like you are on the outside looking in? This journey is hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. We are not alone. 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

Peace, Love and Grief… Trying to Build a Better Boat

This year is different.
I can’t explain it.
My heart is still shattered.
The tears are still falling.
But this year,
I just want to remember…
I want to look at photographs
And gaze deep in your eyes.
I want to remember
The laughter
And the gentle moments when you held me
And whispered, “I love you.”
I want to close my eyes
And go back to that first hello…
That first kiss.
This year there seems no need for ceremonies…
Just time alone…
With you…
~ Linda, January 2019

Well, I did it… I survived this week… one of the hardest weeks on the calendar for me. This week held the anniversary of Bruce’s death. Only one moment in time, but a moment that changed my life forever.

The first year, I wasn’t sure what to do. My sister had the foresight to know I shouldn’t be alone, and lovingly came and spent the weekend with me. We didn’t really do anything formal – a trip to the beach and a crab dinner (one of Bruce’s favorites).

The following year, I knew I wanted… no, needed… to do something different… something more. We made Tibetan prayer flags for the garden, as well as baskets filled with flowers, incense and charms to represent special things about Bruce to place in the ocean. I even wrote a letter to Bruce to place in the basket. Two of my daughters were able to come join me, and we headed to the ocean for a special ceremony of sorts. Plus, toasts at all his favorite fishing spots and meals at all his favorite restaurants. And to finish the night – a little Jimmy Buffet to sooth the soul.

This tradition I kept up for several years. Then last year, I decided to change it up just a little… First, the prayer flags were in such good condition, there was no need to make new ones. I also decided I wanted to travel… Traveling was how we met and what we loved to do, so I decided to make that a new part of the tradition. So, off I went to another beach south of here. It was a lovely weekend. I still brought flowers and beer to the beach. I still wrote him a letter. I still ate at places I believed he would have loved, and I still finished the night dancing to Jimmy Buffet.

This year, though, things are very different. Perhaps it’s a result of spending the last year fighting to survive, but as I wrote a couple of weeks ago, I have felt very different in my grief these past few months. I don’t really know how to explain it… I still miss him. However, so much of the time before the cancer diagnosis, I just felt like I was going through the motions of life. Whereas now, I actually feel enthusiastic about living my life.

In fact, have you heard Kenny Chesney’s new song, Better Boat? I love it! In fact, I relate to it so much, it has become my mantra song over the last few months… It just seems to truly describe where I find myself emotionally…

… My how the last few months have changed

I’m smilin’ more despite the pain…
I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
If it’s working I don’t know
When I get done the thing may not float
But I’m learning how to build a better boat
~ Songwriters: Travis Meadows, Liz Rose

So that’s me lately… Just constantly trying to “build a better boat.” In fact, that’s where I found myself this week… I knew I would be sad, and I knew there would be tears, but I also knew I needed something different… Something more quiet and less formal. I also knew I knew I wanted to be in “our” home this year… No traveling – I’ve spent enough time away from my family and traveling for treatments this last year. So, when I woke up that morning, I still had no idea… I was going to play it by ear… And here’s how it played out…

My journal:
January 2019 – noon
“Hi Babe!
Well, maybe I should be but I’m not so mad today… Sad – yes… Missing you – definitely… Wishing you were here and knowing you would love this time together today – you bet!

I didn’t (couldn’t) go to our beach today. It’s still closed due to the government shutdown. All week I’ve been hoping it would open, but no… Anyway, I drove up to Daytona instead. The beach ramp for cars is closed (high tide), but that’s okay. It’s kinda cold anyway, so I’m sitting inside the pier restaurant (Crabby Joe’s). You used to love this place! I’m at one of the high-tops overlooking the water, which is beautiful today. I can even feel the waves rocking the pier. And if I close my eyes, I would swear I can feel you right beside me… Because that is where you always sat… Never across from me – always beside me with one hand on my leg or holding my hand… I miss that….

You would love this today! I know you would be all about this place and simply spending time together.

It’s weird – maybe good – but this year is so different. In the past, I had (no – needed) a “ceremony” for today… But this year, that didn’t feel right. It was right at the time, but this year, I just wanted to enjoy the day and remember you… remember us.

The memories are flooding in. I can feel the tears in my eyes and a few have fallen, but mostly the memories make me smile. I love remembering… I love giving my “permission” – perhaps selfishly – to simply spend today focusing on you and us…

5 pm
As I sit here, all I can think about is how blessed I have been. Yes – there have been hard times… even some really sucky times… But through it all, I have survived… I have come out on top knowing I have experienced great love… your love…

9 pm
I have thought about you so much today… So many memories… So much love. I’ll never understand why… I’ll never know what life would be like if we could have lived out our dreams together… I just know my heart is still shattered… I love you. I will always love you… And I have been blessed to have known a love like ours…”

I ain’t lonely, but I spend a lot of time alone
More than I’d like to, but I’m okay with staying home
My how the last few months have changed
I’m smilin’ more despite the pain

I hate waiting, ain’t no patience in these hands
I’m not complaining, sometimes it’s hard to change a man
I think I’m stronger than I was,
I let God do what he does

I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
If it’s working I don’t know
When I get done the thing may not float
But I’m learning how to build a better boat
~ Songwriters: Travis Meadows, Liz Rose

What about you? How do honor your loved one’s memory? Does it change year to year? Or are there certain traditions you incorporate each year? What do you do to remember? 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

Peace, Love and Grief… And the Learning Continues

I know life is one long learning experience… I also know the minute we think we have it all figured out, life will throw us a curve ball. However, when it happens it is hard to see it as an opportunity to learn. For me though, this grief journey seems to have taken this same idea and multiplied it. Even the little things I think I have learned came around over and over. These last few weeks have been no exception. I have felt myself sinking lower and lower, and struggling to find a way out. This weekend, I spent some time on the beach putting my thoughts to paper and letting out the emotions.

Dear Babe,

Hi! I took today off… I just needed some time here on the beach… with you. Life has gotten so busy these days. Don’t get me wrong – I prefer this busyness to being alone, but lately it has felt a bit overwhelming. So much of the time, I feel numb going from one thing to the next. So, today is a “me” day… and right now is “us” time. I think this is what I need to get my bearings once again.

When I told Michael I was heading to the beach today, he responded, “Want to spend time with Papa?” Even he knows you are still my rock… my safe space in the storm. I read an article today written by someone (“an old man”) who has grieved many people. It was so accurate. He described the waves that come over you – even years later… And how that is normal. (Which is good to know since I was beginning to think I was losing it.) *

Lately, I have seen the waves on the horizon… I know the next three months are my hardest. It is one special day after another – each one a reminder you are not here, and I am alone… a reminder of what we had and how much I miss you… a renewal of anger, frustration, and confusion about why… Almost five years later and I still don’t get it… Why did it have to be this way? Why do I still wake up each day to a broken heart when I realize you aren’t there beside me?… I know this is real… I know it isn’t a dream… But it is still hard to accept.

I have let myself cry most of the day today… something I haven’t done in months. I think I needed it though. It’s one of those things I used to do as much as I needed, but now it is different. Now, I try to be aware of those around me, and how it affects them. I know it causes them distress. Yet, when I hold it in, I think that affects them, as well.

I don’t know exactly how, but my daughter can sense it. She is great about letting me have the time I need – like this time today, more time tomorrow and all of next weekend. She knows this time of year is hard for me. And while I know my grief is hard for her, she gives me this… This gift of time to grieve freely. She will call me out if I sink too low or become too negative… But her support is incredible, and I am thankful.

It’s weird but this past summer when I was struggling, someone else commented that I was “putting out a lot of negative vibes.” That really hurt to hear at the time, but I couldn’t argue it… I still can’t – They were right. They knew that wasn’t my normal behavior, but they didn’t know what was going on. I, on the other hand, couldn’t talk about it. Maybe I wasn’t willing or maybe I felt they can’t understand how much I still hurt, because they’ve never experienced it… I felt I couldn’t explain it because it can only be experienced. To be honest, my daughter doesn’t understand it either, she just understands me… But, I guess that seems to work.

As for the rest of the world, these next few months are ones of joy and celebrations. I will have to balance that with my own need to grieve and feel what I feel. Sometimes that is really hard… Does any of this even make sense, Babe?

I still miss you so much! Did you know when you died, it feels like most of me died too? I’m definitely not the person I was. When we met, I was excited about life and so naïve about people. You always smiled, but warned me to be careful… Now, I am quiet, not so trusting and pretty content to be alone with my family or my own thoughts. I don’t know… maybe all of this is a relatively normal part of the process.

Life really knocked the wind out of me when you died, and I don’t think I’ve gotten my breath back yet… Maybe that’s not entirely true. I guess, I have for the most part… But when the waves hit (like now), it still feels so overwhelming. Then, I come here… And between the waves and the writing, I can let go… I can cry… I can breathe… I remember… And I smile.

I miss you… I would give anything to have you here beside me. I’ll never understand why that wasn’t to be… But I am so thankful for what we did have… So thankful to have known real love – even if it was only for a little while.

My heart will always be yours, Babe… Always and forever, I will love you!

* The article: http://beautythings.info/2017/09/24/when-asked-for-advice-on-how-to-deal-with-grief-this-old-man-gave-the-most-incredible-reply/

This weekend was good for me. Thinking things through, writing things down and just letting myself feel what I did was very healing. The rest of this weekend, I have started to feel more positive… More like me. It’s strange, but as the old man in the article says, I “know that somehow <I> will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but <I’ll> come out.” That seems to be the lesson, I am learning over and over… The lesson that “The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too.” *

I am so thankful for this group. Your notes and messages are heartfelt, and I feel close to you through the experiences we share. Through these stories and 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

Peace, Love and Grief… What Does It Mean to Heal?

Grief… It may be a small word, but it is not a simple word… In fact, for such a small word, there are a lot of emotions and thoughts wrapped up into it… For example, there are different types of grief, depending on the relationship… And there are different stages of grief, which is a farce I’ve discussed before. Then, there is a grief journey, which is really just your life’s journey that took a sharp turn down a long, dark road. And the list could go on and on…

Today, though, I was thinking about an idea you hear a lot about… The idea of healing from grief. To start, let’s define “heal.” In the dictionary, it is defined as follows: “to become sound, healthy or whole again.” Hmmm… interesting idea, but it doesn’t seem to fit with grief… not really…

When Bruce passed away, many of those who had never been on this path, (We’ll call them “the others.”), kept telling me it would “get better with time,” and eventually, I would “feel whole again.” On the other hand, other widows and those who had also experienced deep loss, told me up front, “This will always hurt. You just learn to live with it.”

As time has moved on, “the others” continue to ask or advise me about moving on. But those who are on this journey too, continue to say, “This will always hurt. You just learn to live with it.” … And now, after four-plus years, I know who I believe.

But, I also think there is a little more to it…

Whether the loss which precedes grief is sudden or whether it comes after an extended period of time, it leaves you in a state of shock… The initial reality is hard to accept or comprehend in those first few days or weeks. Once you realize this is real, that is when the grief sets in… (After all, you can’t grief what you can’t comprehend.)

The thing about loss and grief… They leave you in a place where nothing makes sense… a place where nothing is the way it was… a place of complete and utter weakness. So, here you are, trying to figure everything out, make decisions, take care of the “legalities of death,” all while you are emotionally (and maybe even physically) weak… possibly the weakest you have ever been… And as you keep pushing forward, you learn to live in that place of weakness… And that is grief…

As time moves on, some of the numbness and shock begins to wear off, but the feeling of having the breath knocked out of you remains… And then, things get even stranger…

There are days (and maybe even weeks) where you feel okay… where you start to learn to function outside of that weak space… And you think, “I’m doing better. I’m going to be okay.” Then suddenly, you find yourself struggling to breathe again, and you are right back in that space of weakness… That same space where you started.

The grief journey (at least for me) seems to be a path where I will always hurt… There are good days where I feel strong, and there are bad days when I feel so incredibly weak again… So the healing is not really about moving on, letting go or even the hurt going away…

No, I think, maybe… just maybe, the healing happens as we allow ourselves those weak moments when they happen (and they will happen) – being gentle rather than hard on ourselves when they happen… But also not staying in that space for any longer than we need to…

In other words, any healing is actually about accepting our weakness while learning to live in our strength.

And no matter where we find ourselves on any given day, always remember – come from a place of love and be gentle with yourself… because that is where our strength is found.

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… For many of us, the changes in us created by our grief can be confusing and overwhelming to ourselves and others. Learning to be open to new possibilities can feel impossible at times and at other times, this is what gives us hope. We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are not alone. 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

Peace, Love and Grief… The Search for Real Peace

There seems to be so many obstacles and things to learn in this journey called life… And when your life journey includes a grief journey, things really change. The obstacles change and there are new things to learn that you never even thought of before. For me however, whatever the obstacle or lesson, finding some kind of peace seems to always be at the core… And the hardest part of that can be determining if that peace is real peace, or if it is something else simply masquerading as peace.

Do you know what do I mean?

In past blogs, I have written about things people have said or done. Some things are positive… They are incredibly helpful, healing and create a sense of peace. Other things, however, aren’t helpful at all… They leave me feeling like I am less than a person – These things are not healing, and do not create a sense of peace.

Why is that? I believe it is due to several factors…

I think some of it is because people don’t know what to say or do when someone they care about is grieving. I sincerely believe (most of the time) people’s hearts are in the right place, but without any personal experience, they rely on “Hollywood” or what they have heard others say. While they mean well, they don’t realize how absolutely hollow many of those words and phrases are.

There are also those who may or may not have any personal experience with loss. (However, for them, that really doesn’t matter.) Either way, they are convinced they have the answers. According to them, if I would just do as they say, I would “get over it”… And when I don’t, they push even harder. I want to believe they mean well, but I wish they could understand their answers aren’t necessarily my answers.

Then, there is my part in all of this… I know I am a passive communicator. In my soul, I just want everyone to get along, so I tend to bite my tongue – not speaking up or being honest about how some of these words and actions affect me. However, while I might convince myself I am “keeping the peace,” it is a false sense of peace… Because in actuality, there is no peace within that space.

I think one of the biggest things I have learned on this journey is there are two kinds of peace…

First, there is the fake peace created when I don’t speak up. True – there is no conflict… at least not externally. However, in my heart, there is great conflict and hurt. There is a feeling of being “squelched” or put down… A feeling of being less than who I really am. There is also a fear here that if I am honest and speak up for myself, I will no longer be loved. I call this “fake peace,” because it is a mask… It is not real, and it is not healing in any sense of the word.

Real peace, however, is completely different… This is found in the relationships where I know I can be honest… and still be loved. This is the space where I feel heard and understood, and which allows me to listen and understand others, as well. In this space, there is no one with “power” over the other, because no one is perceived as weak. Because there is an understanding of what is sacred within each of us, we are able to find a commonality that strengthens and heals…

In other words, when there is real peace… There is also hope… and that is where the healing can start to happen.

There is a peace that comes with acceptance,
And a love that is always remembered.
~ Linda, September 2013

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own lessons we must learn. Have you ever found yourself wondering what happened to listening and being compassionate toward one another? Have you ever doubted your own value in this world? 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