Tag: joy

Peace, Love, and Grief… Working on Grace

Yep… Still me… and yep… Still working my way along this path that I find myself on… One step at a time… And if I had to pinpoint one phrase that sums up this journey I have been on for so long, I would say it is ‘a journey to find myself’.

The crazy thing is, I’m not even sure what that end result should look like. As I’ve written before, I was raised to be “a good girl” – doing what others in authority expected of me, (as I am sure many of you were too). The crazy thing is that as a child in the world I was raised in, almost everyone had authority over me – all adults, anyone male, and anyone older. I’m not sure that was the actual message spoken, but it was the one I took in.

In my first marriage, my ex believed he had the authority to treat the rest of us however he saw fit. He even threatened several times to “turn me into ‘the church’” if I didn’t follow his directives and humble myself to the “proper station” as his wife. (Insert eye roll here.) I never could get it right, though, so I was constantly in trouble. After I finally walked away from that relationship, I was left feeling defeated, broken, and completely hopeless.

I think Bruce was one of the first people to speak to that and say, “No, that isn’t right.” He was the first one to show me that I was in charge of me… He didn’t believe nor did he want me to be “less than” him. He wanted a partner… Someone on equal footing with him. He consistently pointed out that I was the one who had authority over me. Granted, there are other figures of authority that I need to respect, but ultimately, I am in charge of me. That was something new and different… And I found that I really liked it!

I was like a toddler learning to walk in this new-found freedom – not completely steady on my feet. I stumbled quite a bit, but with his encouragement, I learned to keep getting back up and starting again.

Then, almost as quickly as he came into my life, he was gone… I was devastated. Without him by my side, I found myself spiraling into an abyss that had no end… I was failing at living. I cried night and day. And as much as I wanted to believe in a God who cared, I didn’t feel it… Instead, I felt totally alone with no spiritual or emotional tools to grasp and hang onto.

As the years have passed, I have been working to get back on that path Bruce started me on… The one where I live my life… the one where I care about myself… and love myself. Which brings me to this week.

As I have been talking about, I have been struggling a lot lately with depression derived from an overabundance of self-loathing. I have been working on me, but the more I get to know myself, the less I like myself. The more I delve into the mistakes I have made in this life, the more disgusted I have been with me… It has not been good… It has not been healthy.

Then, today at church, something clicked. (Don’t get me wrong, I know I still have a long road ahead.) First of all, I had only been going to this little church for a couple of weeks when I was called back to SC to help with some family things. So, I have been out of town for several weeks. Yet, as soon as I walked in, I was greeted with some the most genuine glad-you-are-back hugs and love I have ever known. As the service started and the music played, the words being spoken went straight to my heart. It was all about loving ourselves and giving ourselves grace – grace to make mistakes and grace to fall down and get back up again… It was exactly what I needed to hear today.

I know this path in front of me (without Bruce) will still be a long one. I know I can stay broken. I can keep repeating patterns of dysfunction over and over… OR… I can listen to that divine voice of God within myself and give myself grace when I stumble… the same grace I so easily offer to others. (Why not myself too?)

Bruce gave me such a wonderful gift all those years ago when he believed in me and my ability to walk beside him. Now, it is my turn to pick up that baton and follow this light into a new and unknown space. Bruce always tried to get me to understand the power that is within me – that divine power to create a life of security, serenity, and love – for others and for myself.

Today I am feeling a joy that I haven’t felt in years. A joy in knowing that the divine within me wants me to be courageous and filled with compassion for all of God’s creation… which (to my surprise) also includes myself.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard. 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

* 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… Maintaining Joy

This week I was asked a challenging question… How do you maintain joy in troubling times?

I have always been a positive person. However, since Bruce died, this is a struggle for me. Since joy is more than happiness… It is a deep inner feeling… a way of being… It is a “knowing” that what is happening around you, can’t “kill” what’s inside – like an assurance that in the end all will be well. At the same time, the trauma of Bruce’s death and the aftermath of grief have definitely affected that part of me.

When my daughter and grandson lived here, she brought with her a “24 Hour Rule”. This meant that you get 24 hours to feel sorry or sad or whatever negativity is haunting you. Then, you need to check yourself – reign it in and take the necessary steps to move forward. I remember, at first, thinking “Hmmm… We’ll see… I’ll feel what I feel for as long as I feel it.” Yet that attitude is exactly how I can end up so deep into the rabbit hole that I can’t get out… So, I decided to play along and give it a try.

For me, it turns out that even 24 hours can be too long… In that amount of time, I can get way too deep in that hole. Instead, I have found that small doses of grief and missing Bruce is healthier for me than allowing myself a 24 hour “deep dive”.

For example, this week while porch sittin’ with a friend, they told me about their own heart attack years ago. As they described their experience, I couldn’t help but think that this was probably what Bruce endured. After all, Bruce had a massive heart attack that night… only he didn’t recover… From that day to this, I have occasionally questioned what he was aware of, but I have never researched or read about a heart attack from a survivor’s account… Maybe because they were exactly that – survivors… and Bruce wasn’t… Or… maybe I’m just not ready yet.

My friend described how they were aware, but couldn’t move – as if they were paralyzed… Did Bruce have that sensation? Did he hear me call 911? Could he feel me performing CPR? My friend hadn’t mentioned pain, but did it hurt? Was he scared? Did he even know what was happening? … So many questions…

My friend, also, talked about “the light”. They described how they saw it and were drawn toward it. In their case, though, that was about the same time that EMS used the paddles to shock their heart. Luckily, for them (and those who love them), they were immediately drawn back to the present. They went on to tell me that it was at that point that they actually felt the pain and were able to move again.

I wondered about Bruce… Was he drawn to the light? I am guessing he must have been… Was it a choice? Could he see what was happening here? Or was the light so intriguing that nothing else mattered? As I sat there listening, I wondered all these things.

I was cognizant of a few things, though, as we sat there…
1. This was my friend’s story. It wasn’t about me or Bruce. I needed to let go and listen. My friend was who needed to be heard in that moment.
2. It would be healthier for me to ponder all of this later… on my own and in small doses.

So, that’s what I’ve done this week – ten minutes here… two minutes there. I’ve thought about it, and I’ve wondered… but I still have no answers. In the next few weeks, I may even look up some of these heart attack survivor stories. After all, this is also a part of Bruce’s story, so I want to know… I need to know… Or at the very least, to understand better how he experienced that night, too.

Then maybe, in time, I can meld our two stories from that night together… Maybe I can even find some peace. However, I know that if I try to do this too quickly, or all at once, it will absolutely cripple me emotionally… It would definitely steal my joy that I have worked so hard to regain.

So… slowly and in small doses… guiding my focus and guarding my joy… That has become my journey… That has become my “new normal”. That is how I am learning to maintain my joy in troubling times.
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This journey isn’t easy… not that you need me to tell you that. Loss can be traumatic, and the grief and life we are left to figure out is hard. Healing is slow… There is a lot of trial and error, and it takes time. Thankfully, though, there are moments and actions we can take to refresh our souls and guard our joy. There are also challenges where we learn that we are stronger than we think we are… Both of these provide moments where I learn a little bit more about faith, life, and love.

Thankfully, as the years pass, I can honestly say that there are more of good moments than bad. Each day, I continue to learn more and more about those things that seem to help me heal and move forward – like sharing precious memories. So, I will continue to allow myself the space I need to heal and process this life without my love… without Bruce. Thankfully, at this point in my journey, I am learning that I am not alone – thanks to you!

In fact, none of us need to be alone, because 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 and helps us to process that avalanche of emotions that grief brings us. 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… A Garden of Grief… or Joy?

One of my favorite things about my home office is looking out the window at my flower garden… It makes me smile, especially when everything is blooming. My garden is filled with all kinds of flowering plants from crepe myrtles and angel trumpets to rain lilies and milkweed, and everything in between…. But my yard didn’t always look like this.

When Bruce and I were first married, we were living up north in a condo. He always had a couple of potted plants on the porch during the summer – tomatoes or okra or some such. He always talked about how he used to have a garden and would love to have a regular garden again one day.

I, on the other hand, had never been much of a “plant person”. I grew up around lots of people with green thumbs, but I just never seemed to have a knack for it. It was hot and dirty… No, thank you.

When we started looking for a house down here in Florida, Bruce was so excited about the idea of having a garden again. I was excited for him, but made it quite clear that the yard was his… He could do with it what he wanted. It just wasn’t my passion at all.

When we finally moved into our home, the garden was put on hold until the following year while Bruce fixed up a few other things that were more pressing. He never gave the idea of a garden though… From the day we moved in, he was planning his garden… He knew what he wanted to plant and where it was going.

He never got the chance, though. Bruce passed away in January, before he ever got the chance to place the first plant in the ground.

That first spring after he died, as the weather started warming up, I started looking at the yard and thinking about all the plans Bruce had made. It didn’t take me long, though, to decide what I was going to do. After all, I needed to do something…

I found a checklist in a book of things to do to help me work through my grief… Things to honor Bruce’s memory… And one of those things was to plant a memorial garden. Shoot, I had a whole yard as an empty canvas… A whole yard that I could dig up and plant… A whole yard to help me burn off this ache in my heart… And so, I started…

All I had was a shovel, a rake, and a hand spade, but that didn’t matter. I started digging… Slowly, I built the beds by digging up the grass and hand-turning the dirt. I sifted out the stones and rocks and carefully placed the earthworms back into the freshly turned soil. It took hours on hours, weeks on weeks, and months on months.

Even the neighborhood kids came and lent a hand on occasion. With the normal curiosity of children, they would ask about Bruce. I didn’t mind, though. It gave me a reason to talk about him… and smile.

It took well over a year to get things to a “basic level of done”, but as any gardener will tell you, no garden is ever really “done”. Over the years, I have added, moved, or gotten rid of plants here or there but that same basic garden is still there… smiling back at me.

Most of the plants have some type of connection to Bruce or our family. For example, I have a couple of shrimp plants since he loved shrimp. I also have five angel trumpets – one for each of my children. Oh, and the muscadine grapes because it smells like my grandmother’s back yard used to smell. I don’t want to bore you by explaining each and every plant’s meaning to me, but you get the idea. Each plant is personal to me… each one means something to me so that when I look at them or touch them, I smile.

It’s odd, but as much as I thought I hated yard work, this labor of love changed all that. I found myself spending hours in the yard every single weekend… Until I couldn’t. The year I spent fighting cancer, I had to hire someone to take care of the yard. As I have moved into the recovery stage, I’ve been able to work in the yard a little bit here and there, but I still can’t do it for hours. I wish I could, though… I actually miss it.

Today was sad, though. I came home to find most of my rain lilies pulled out. Someone, who meant well, thought it would “look better” and removed them. “It’s just lilies,” they said when they saw my tears. I know that. (I really do.) They kept saying it isn’t a big deal… But that’s just it. It is a big deal… to me. The rain lilies, I think, are some of my favorites. You see, they bloom after the rain… kind of like me learning to smile again after all the grief… Like I said, each plant is personal to me. **

I know the day will come when I no longer live here. I am sure someone else will come along and remove and replant and redo each and every garden bed. (And they should.) But for right now, this garden reminds me that I can do this. I can keep moving forward. This idea from a book that started as a “grief garden”… as a memorial to Bruce… has become a source of joy for me. I love sitting on the porch or looking out the windows and simply feeling joy. I love this space that can make me smile simply by existing… and that’s pretty special.

** For the record, this is all being made right… an honest mistake made with the best of intentions.
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This journey isn’t easy… not that you need me to tell you that. Loss can be traumatic, and the grief we are left to figure out is hard. Thankfully, though, there are moments and actions we can take to refresh our souls – Moments where I learn a little bit more about faith, life, and love.

As the years pass, I can honestly say that there are more of these good moments than bad. Each day, I continue to learn more and more about those things that seem to help me heal and move forward – like sharing precious memories. So, I will continue to allow myself the space I need to heal and process this life without my love… without Bruce. Thankfully, at this point in my journey, I am learning that I am not alone – thanks to you!

In fact, none of us need to be alone, because 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 and helps us to process that avalanche of emotions that grief brings us. 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.*

Peace, Love and Grief… Precious memories

Wishes and Memories

I dance with you in my mind.
You hold me next to you.
I feel your heartbeat and the strength of your arms.
As the music plays, we move gently and gracefully as one.
Then it ends with a kiss
As I wish for one more dance.

I laugh with you in my dreams.
I see your sweet smile and your kind gentle eyes.
I hear you start to chuckle.
Your smile grows.
Then you wink at me
As I wish for more laughter

I make love with you in my heart
I feel your strength and your gentleness.
Your compassion and love flow through me with every touch
And each sweet kiss.
We become one in that moment.
I lay in your arms as you hold me close;
Gently kissing my lips, my eyes, my fingertips
As I wish for one more loving moment with you.

One more dance.
One more laugh.
One more chance to love you.

Then, I realize…
these moments are always with me.

~ Linda, September 14, 2013

Growing up I can remember my grandmother always referring to her “precious memories.” She always had a story about her boys or one of us – the grandchildren… and later her great-grands. She would smile, tell the story and always end it with a sigh and the words – “another one of my precious memories.” After my grandfather died, she would sit wearing his sweater for comfort and talk about her “precious memories” of the man who had shared her life and her soul for most of her life.

Now, I find myself understanding more and more what her life was like after my grandfather died and just how precious those memories are.

When Bruce first died, I was terrified I would forget something. It was so important not to forget anything. I felt like that would be the same as breaking a promise or being disloyal to him in someway. I wanted to remember every story and every detail. For example, the way his eyes twinkled when he had pulled one over on me and was waiting for me to catch on, or the way he would come up behind me in the kitchen and hug me from behind as he kissed my neck and watched me cook.

Such precious, precious memories…

In the first few years, I did a lot of things to “save” those memories… and don’t get me wrong – I am so glad I did. I did (and still do) a lot of writing. Whenever I remember a story, I write it down. I also took every email, note and card that I could find, put them in order and placed them in an album. I love reading those messages and remembering the feelings and stories surrounding each one. I have photo albums from pre-us (birth – mid 40s) up to just days before he died. I even kept his cell phone because it still has the last 2 weeks’ worth of text messages between us.

Preserving these memories was quite cathartic for me. I tried to be as creative as possible since that has always been my outlet in some form. Plus, it gave me something to do that kept me busy and felt important. Now I know, it was important and I am so glad I did it.

For a long time, though, it was hard to read or look at any of these without crying and spiraling down emotionally. Sometimes, I wondered if I was crazy. I wanted to read them. I wanted to remember. More important, I wanted to feel comfort from them. But instead, each time I found myself crying… Crying because I miss him… Crying for all that was lost… Crying because there would be no more “new” precious memories to fill these books. I couldn’t make it through more than a few pages without falling completely apart.

In my anxiety and struggle to remember, I was so caught up in the details that I found myself forgetting the joy that went with those memories… and that is the part that made them so precious. What I didn’t realize was the fact that because I love Bruce, the memories will be there. It was the love between our two souls that created those precious memories – not what time of day it was or the exact words we spoke.

But time and God have been on my side. I have learned to read these only while I can manage to smile. If I start to cry, I take a breath to see if I am spiraling down or smiling through the tears.

If I am crying without a smile, I stop. I know from experience that to continue will not be good for me at that moment. I know that I am focusing on the wrong things… the negative things… the concrete physical things that are gone. I know that the anger and distrust will follow if I don’t turn it around.

However, if I am still smiling through the tears, then I know I am okay. I may be sad but I am still thankful for that memory and that precious moment in time. I am focused on the love, joy and blessings that created our relationship.

That is my goal now… learning how to handle the memories… to appreciate those moments. I won’t lie, I wish Bruce were still here, but that can’t be. Instead I am growing and learning … Learning that as long as I have those “precious memories,” I will always have a part of Bruce in my heart and in my soul…

And I can never forget that…

Because this is our community, please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone else.

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

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