If you are reading this, more than likely, it is because you have lost someone you love. You are grieving… as I am… as this entire group does. Grief sucks! It’s hard, and there are no directions or checklists. It definitely has a beginning, but I’m not sure it ever has an ending. For each of us, there is a space in our lives that is empty now… For me, that space belonged to Bruce.
Each week I share a little bit about my journey, and what I am experiencing… I share little snippets of Bruce, and what our life was together was like… and how all that has changed. But today… Today, I just want to tell you about this man I shared my life with… This man I loved… This man I still grieve.
Bruce and I met on a sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands on December 26, 2004. I was traveling with my son, and Bruce was alone. What started as a “Do you need to borrow a pen?” quickly became a ship-board romance. We spent a week talking, dancing and laughing… It was incredible.
On the last morning, while he was trying to figure out how to keep things going, I was breaking things off. After all, I was a music teacher in a small SC town, and he was a truck driver in western MI – over 1000 miles away. To think we had a future together was ridiculous. However, after crying all the way home, I knew I was wrong, and we belonged together.
Sure enough, ten months later, I was moving to Michigan, and we were saying, “I do.”
My previous marriage had been an intensely, abusive one, and had ended years before. When I married Bruce, I was still struggling with so many of the after-effects that are the result of such a relationship. Bruce knew going in what my children and I had endured. He knew all the gory details, and never shied away from loving all of us. There were so many times when my response to him was based in my past – not my present with him. I can remember my mother saying, “He’s not —-. Don’t respond to him like he’s (that other person).”
God love him. He was the most patient person on the planet, as I learned how to trust this man with whom I was sharing my life. There were many hours when I had to go sit by the water to sort out what I knew was real and what was imagined within the context of my past. But he never wavered… He was always there… waiting for my return with a big hug and an, “I love you… that’s forever.”
I remember our first argument, when I ran to our room crying. He gave me some time alone before knocking and coming in. I can remember him placing his forehead against mine as he told me that sometimes relationships are hard, but that’s okay… We’d figure it out and be that much stronger for it. There was no violence or demand for my submission… I was allowed to be me… and he was allowed to be him. I had never known such a relationship… It was so freeing and empowering.
I remember a particular Sunday night. He was in NY visiting my youngest daughter for a few days. On the nightly news, the announcement came that his company was closing at midnight, and he would be out of work. We had no prior notice, and I panicked… but not him. He told me he had waited over 12 years for me to walk into his world, God had provided then, and God would provide again… He believed that with all his soul. Well, it took 18 months and a move to FL, but sure enough, he was right again.
I remember another time when it was his heart that was broken… I can’t tell you what it was that broke his heart, because it is not my story to tell. However, I remember coming home from work, and he had been drinking, which caught me a bit off guard. At first, he was flirty and jovial, so I just went with it. However, quite quickly, things turned sour, and I became the brunt of an anger I didn’t understand… Nothing physical, just sarcastic, cutting remarks… Hurtful things… Things I had never heard him say.
I was so completely stunned and didn’t understand what was happening. It was an awful episode. Bruce wasn’t much of a talker, and while he apologized profusely the following day, it took months before I finally learned what had actually ripped his heart in two.
But like every time before, we were there for each other… Always each other’s BFF and biggest supporter and fan… And just a little bit stronger because of what we had been through together.
By the time, we moved into our home in FL, we had found that comfortable rhythm… That space where arguments are few and hugs are plenty… That space where we knew the other would always be there – through thick or thin… That space where the trust and bond between us was unshakable.
And then it happened…
It was a Friday night… a night like any other. He came home late, and was hungry and tired. I sat with him while he ate, and we made plans for the weekend. He just chuckled, as I rambled on and on about all the things we could do. We had just gotten new kayaks for Christmas, and I was anxious to take them out again… Then again, we could take the boat out… or just head to the beach and enjoy a day together… It really didn’t matter – just being together was all either of us wanted.
As we went to bed, we followed the same ritual that we had followed from our beginning. He turned down the bed for us, and with great care, we each undressed the other. Then, he tucked me into the bed, before crawling into his side, pulling me close, and turning off the light. The night always ended with me snuggled in his arms.. my head on his chest.
But that night was different… That night, as I lay beside him, Bruce’s heart stopped… and so did my world… This is the man I grieve… This is the man I miss… This is the man I still love…
How about you? Who do you grieve? Who do you miss? Share with us, please… Tell us about this person whom you love… This path can be a hard one, but none of us need to do it alone. We are all here for each other. We all have stories to share. Because this is OUR community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*
Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.
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