Peace, Love and Grief… Have I Told You Lately?

Have I told you lately that I love you
Have I told you there’s no one above you
Fill, fill, fill my heart with gladness
Take away my sadness
Ease my troubles, that’s what you do

~ Van Morrison

I love that song… My favorite version, the one that makes me smile and cry at the same time, was performed by Rod Stewart on his 1993 Unplugged and Seated album. I can’t tell you how many days I walked in the door after a long day, only to be greeted by Bruce with a glass of wine and this song playing on the stereo. He would smile, take me in his arms, and as we danced there in the kitchen, he would whisper those lyrics in my ear. My heart stops every time I remember those precious moments.

Precious moments… That is what has filled my mind this week.

Our 15th wedding anniversary is tomorrow. However, because I have had some time alone, I have been celebrating all weekend. Nothing big or crazy this year. I didn’t buy myself a gift, although I did buy some roses for the table. Mainly, because I know he would have done that… He always did.

I didn’t even take a sunrise walk on the beach this year. Honestly, I was awake in time, but instead, I wanted to just lie in our bed… in our room… and think about him… and us. There was just something about the warmth and security of our bed, that just held me there… longer than normal.

I did go for a long walk later in the afternoon. The tide was high and rough, so negotiating the shore was a struggle… But definitely worth every step. That is my happy place… The space where I can almost feel Bruce next to me. The space where I can talk to him out loud, and since no one else can hear me over the roar of the ocean, it feels so freeing. And there is something about knowing that his ashes were scattered out there that makes it such a precious space for me.

I didn’t go to our special restaurant this year. Things are too crazy in public, especially this weekend. There are people who are celebrating, and people who are angry. I definitely have my own opinions, but not this weekend. I just don’t want to get into the middle of something… Not this weekend, anyway. So, I had a steak dinner last night here at home… in our home… complete with champagne and dessert… and dancing along with a Jimmy Buffet concert playing on the TV.

Today, I have been listening to the music we used to enjoy and just thinking about us… Reading cards and emails we sent each other through the years. Honestly, I think this has been the best part of my weekend. I have smiled… and cried as I spend this day simply thinking about him… and us…

I remember meeting Bruce on a sailing schooner in the Virgin Islands, and my life changed forever…

I remember the two of us flying back and forth every three weeks between Michigan and South Carolina, falling more in love with every trip…

I remember when we finally decided we couldn’t do that anymore, and life changed my circumstances to make the “forever” decision even easier…

I remember moving to Michigan one autumn day and marrying this wonderful man a few days later…

I remember years of learning about each other and our love growing stronger day by day… year by year.

I remember moving to Florida, and how excited we were to embark on this new adventure… together.

I remember when we finally bought this little place on the coast – a place that was truly and completely ours

I remember so many days in between all of these… Days filled with love… Days filled with adventure… Days filled with frustration and growth… Days filled with life… our life.

I know those days are gone, and I know those days are over. I also know that I don’t know how to let them go… How to let him go… I can’t… Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. He is still such a big part of my soul, and I think that is just what it is.

So… Happy Anniversary, Babe… I love you so much… still…

Life moves on.
Time passes.
But my heart stands still;
Lost in a space
Where I can still hear your voice.
Where your smile still greets mine.
Frozen in this space
Where you should be…
But you aren’t.

~ Linda, April 2020


Special days and anniversaries seem to carry emotions that can overwhelm us even years later. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What special days have you had to navigate lately? What do you remember? How do you celebrate? How do you manage those emotions? 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Facing another anniversary and I still remember…

I thought we had forever…
I never knew we were counting down
from the day we met.
~ Linda, Sept. 26, 2013

As I approach this weekend, I find myself in tears. I have fought it all week, but now it is time to let myself feel what I feel.

On Tuesday, January 12, it will be 3 years… Three years since my worse nightmare came true…

January 11, 2013 was a Friday. It will be forever ingrained in my mind. I got home late, and Bruce was even later. As a truck driver, he often worked 12 – 14 hour days. However, given his occupation, we were both thankful that he was a “local” driver and home every night.

That Friday he had left for work around 5 AM and returned home around 8 PM. I had already eaten, (Chicken Lo Mein, which I still do not eat to this day), but I sat with him as he ate the dinner he had picked up on his way home. We talked about the upcoming weekend and what we wanted to do… go to the beach, use the kayaks, or go out on the boat… It really didn’t matter as long as we were together and near the water.

I remember Bruce laughing and saying, “Whatever we do is fine with me… We could just see where the day takes us.”

That night we did our usual bedtime routine, kissed goodnight and snuggled up to sleep in each other’s arms. A few short hours later, it happened… I woke up around 1 AM to a strange noise. Bruce sounded like he was snoring but more than that… like he was having trouble breathing. I remember shaking him and shouting, “Wake up, Babe. You’re dreaming. Wake up.”

But he didn’t wake up. Instead, he seized up and then stopped breathing.

No!” I thought. “This can’t be. This must be a dream. This can’t really be happening.” It was all so surreal.

I remember calling 911. I remember talking to the 911 operator, while trying to get dressed, unlock the door for the EMS crew, struggling to put something solid under Bruce so I could perform CPR, counting while doing compressions and the EMS team arriving. I remember watching as they continued the CPR, used the “paddles,” injected him with an epi-pen directly into his heart. I remember the line on the monitor staying flat no matter what they tried. I remember standing to the side watching all of that… and I remember thinking repeatedly, “This can’t be real. This isn’t happening. I need to wake up. I need to make this dream stop.”

But I wasn’t dreaming. Instead, it was all just the beginning of an absolute nightmare.

I remember a pastor coming in to “console” me and saying, “Just think of it as someone hit the ‘delete’ button on Bruce.” I remember that same pastor and the police officer, who had driven me to the hospital, talking about football over my head as I cried. There I was crying and lost because my husband had just died in my arms, and they were talking about a football game. I remember wanting them to leave but not knowing how to tell them.

I remember the nurse handing me Bruce’s wedding band “for safe keeping.” I remember being allowed some time to “say good-by.” I remember stroking his hair and his cheeks. I remember thinking he was going to open his eyes at any minute and say, “Gotcha.” But he didn’t. Instead, I remember squeezing his toes as I left the room, something I had always done when I walked past his lounger at home… and I remember kissing his cheek and saying, “I love you, babe. I will always love you… and until I see you again – Good-by.”

I remember the ride home in the same police car and thinking, “I’m alone… From now on, I will always be alone.” I wasn’t crying at that point… I was in such shock. I remember making phone calls (at 3:30 in the morning). I remember Bruce’s Mom crying out in pain and disbelief when I told her. Calls like that one are permanently fixed in my memory, while I do not even remember making others. However, I do remember the shock in each voice as I relayed the news that Bruce… My Bruce was dead. He was gone.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine at that point what that really meant.

I remember cleaning the house because everyone would be coming. I remember trying to clean the bed where he had died. I remember making lists, although I don’t remember what they were. Most of all, I remember thinking, “This can’t be real. This space… this house is ours. You can’t be gone! Don’t leave me! Don’t leave me here alone!”

But it was real… he was gone… I was alone.

I have spent 3 years (on Tuesday) coming to terms with that reality. Some days are better than others. I am working on my perspective and attitude. I know that what I choose to see in life is what I will see. However, I won’t lie. It is hard. I make myself get up each morning and say “thank you” for a new day. However, I also will be thankful when the time comes, and I am with Bruce again. (Not trying to upset anyone or insinuate anything – just an honest widow’s statement.)

So what will I do on Tuesday? Well, this will be my first year facing this anniversary by myself. I won’t say alone because there are a lot of people also grieving for Bruce. There are also a lot of people who have offered their support if I need them, and for that I am endlessly thankful.

My plan for Tuesday is similar to last year, and I am sure I will share it next week. But for today… tonight… and probably the next few days, I will be reliving our last few days together (especially that night) over and over…

and still wishing this was just a very bad dream…

and still praying I will wake up with Bruce next to me… holding me…

the way I remember.

Each morning I awaken
And I am reminded all over
That you are gone.
I call out to you…
Sometimes in only a whisper.
And I still feel your soul respond to mine…
~ Linda, March 22, 2015

For anyone dealing with loss, the anniversary of that loss is something we must endure year after year. I don’t know if it ever gets easier. So far, for me it is still just as painful… the tears and grief, just as strong.

Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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