Peace, Love, and Grief – My Thoughts

Growing up, I thought grief was something you only experienced when someone you love dies. Somehow, I also got the message that as Christians, we should celebrate and not be sad because they “have gone to a better place to be with God and the angels”. Grief and sadness were presented as almost sinful in many ways.

This led to many conflicting emotions growing up and even into adulthood… What do you call it when you move away from your family and friends? Or when the family pet passes away? Or when your life suddenly changes in ways that require you to put your plans and dreams aside? What do you do with the unbelievably sad emotions experienced at the loss of a child from miscarriage or the loss of a grandparent?

I had no words for any of that loss and sadness. Instead, I felt shame and confusion… I couldn’t celebrate, and I didn’t understand how these emotions were bad. But rather than sharing those feelings and risking the reactions of others, I tried to hold those things in.

Was I successful? Probably not… But it was the only way I had been shown to deal with it.

So, when Bruce died, I was at a total and complete loss. I had never learned to truly deal with any grief, other than to pretend it wasn’t there. I couldn’t do that this time, though, which has made this journey that much longer.

From the beginning, I started looking for ways to work through grief… I read every book and article and listened to every video and podcast I could find on the topic. And it wasn’t long before I learned that I would need to go back and re-process the grief from all those past losses while I was working on processing my grief for Bruce.

It has been a long arduous journey, and I guess, today I just want to share some quick thoughts on the things I have been told vs the way grief has played out for me in reality.

1. “Life moves on” … Yes, life for the rest of the world keeps moving, and to some extent I had to start finding my way in it right away. However, my life was at a standstill. I struggled to simply keep waking up in the morning. My life had literally collapsed. The world as I knew it was over. Setting new goals and establishing new dreams for a future alone were some of the hardest things I had to learn to do.

2. “This is your ‘new normal’” … I hate that phrase. Yes, this is what life has dealt me, but there is absolutely nothing normal about it. That is like saying that climbing a sheer rockface without gear is normal. No… it isn’t normal. It feels wildly dangerous and every move feels life-threatening in some way. Living life as a widow is not normal. It is simply where I find myself, and I have learned to “climb this cliff” carefully – feeling my way while taking it one slow movement at a time.

3. “You need to let them go” … Our love was not and is not a switch on the wall. It cannot be turned on and off at will. In fact, I don’t know that it is something I will ever be able to simply “turn off”. I believe Bruce (and my love for him) will always be a part of me. So maybe for some of us, “good-bye” is actually a life-long process… Or maybe it isn’t good-bye at all, but more of a “see you later”.

4. “You can always remarry” … While very similar to #3, this one has always been more repugnant to me. This was the love of my life – not a broken coffee mug. You can’t simply “replace” a person. I remember when I lost little baby Matthew, and people said, “You can always have more.” Yes, I did have more, but not one of them was baby Matthew. Each person and each relationship is unique – trying to replace or swap one for another does not seem healthy to my way of thinking.

5. “Time heals” … That’s laughable. Sure, I have learned to manage my grief better. I have learned more appropriate ways and times to express my grief. However, the pain of losing Bruce is just as strong and real as it was the night he died. Time hasn’t healed anything. Instead, it has simply given me enough experience to learn how to live with my feet in both worlds – the world of grief and the world of life.

6. “The stages of grief are a path” … First of all, my understanding is that these were initially written to give voice to the stages a person experiences when they learn they are dying. Over time, people started applying these same stages to all grief, which in a lot of ways makes sense. However, if you think for one minute that they present one at a time and in order, that is a fallacy. Yes… at some point you will experience all of them, but it is not a clear, straight forward path. It is more like a jumbled up, knotted ball of string. You get what you get at any given time, and (hopefully) you figure that part out before you encounter the next jumbled up mess.

I am sure there are more of these, and I am sure I will think of more as soon as I post this. Yet, these are the ones that have hit me hard this week. Phrases that others love to say, thinking they are being helpful, and with zero understanding that each person’s path and experience is different… and the best we can (and should) offer is patience and love while those sitting in grief find their next step.
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Grief is a daily challenge that 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. 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

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Furthermore, any comments determined to be hostile in nature will be reported to the proper authorities. Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… Time Moves on But My Heart Doesn’t

Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
Other times I smile and laugh at the thought of our memories.
You were always that way…
making me smile or laugh when I wanted to cry…
when the pain was so bad.
Now my heart hurts…
truly, physically hurts with the missing of you.
I feel your soul;
I know you are here.
But I need to see your eyes and your smile;
Feel the comfort of your arms.
I want to breathe in your presence
and feel your love in all these things.
But that isn’t to be…
All I have are the memories;
The memories of our love…
And…
Sometimes I can’t breathe for the pain of it.
~ Linda, Oct. 19, 2013

I remember when I wrote that poem. It had been 10 months since Bruce died. For the rest of the world, their lives were back in order. (At least, that was my perception.) But, not for me. My life was still upside down. I was still experiencing all the ” dreaded firsts,” and I still had 2 more months to go before I would finish that “first year.”

I don’t know why, but there is a notion or a feeling that if you can get through (aka survive) that first year, it will all be okay… You will feel better… Life will start to feel normal again.

That, my friends, is a lie.

I remember starting that second year with so much hope that I would feel better – cry less and hurt less; laugh more and live “normally” again. But what I found was after that first year, I still grieved… I still cried, and I still hurt. Life was marching forward, but I still seemed to be out of step with the rest of the world. I tried to laugh more… I tried to live a “normal” life.

But… what was “normal?” How could I live a “normal” life when I still hurt so bad?

On January 23, 2014, (after the one-year anniversary of Bruce’s death) I wrote:

Good morning, Babe… Sad today… miss you so much. I know I’m doing better ’cause I have more and more good days, but today I am sad… went to bed sad, cried most of the night and woke up sad… Something about walking into the bedroom and knowing that I was crawling into this bed without you… again, was too much. I just miss you! I try not to let myself dwell on it too much because it gets me too down, but other times, I need to let it out… It’s been forever since I felt the touch of your love, Babe.

A few days later, on February 4, I wrote:

Hi Babe! Loving you this morning… I cried myself to sleep (again) last night. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever not cry myself to sleep… or miss you so bad my heart feels like it will rip in half. Still kinda teary this morning. The thing is – now (because it has been more than a year) I feel like I have to hide it… It is so frustrating!

And three years after he died, I found myself still struggling and wrote:

Hi, Babe! I am really missing you tonight! How can this be real? Here I am – 3 years later – and still half expecting you to walk through the door – or – to wake up and find this has been one horrible nightmare. I sit here at my desk looking at pictures of us and I remember all the smiles and all the love. I’ll never understand why it had to end or how to make the hurting stop. I think… No, I know, what we had was so special and I’ll never stop loving you! It took us so long to find each other that we never took ‘us’ for granted. I have no regrets for how we spent our time together. But I never thought our time together would be so short. It went by so fast.

Even now, as the six-year anniversary of Bruce’s death is on the horizon, I find that I still miss him… and it still hurts… I’ve just gotten better at shoving it down deep when I am with others… Only feeling free to feel what I feel when I am alone (and writing).

In fact, I’ve written about it several times over the past few weeks. I still miss Bruce so much and going through this current challenge without him has been beyond hard. When I am scared or frustrated, I think about how wonderful it would be to feel his arms around me and to hear him whisper in my ear, “It’s going to all be okay.” To feel that I was a priority to someone who loved me unconditionally… To feel that I could cry when I needed to without worrying about being “strong” or being a bother… To be totally and completely honest about my fears…

But, Bruce is gone… Time has moved on. Life has brought (and will continue to bring) more challenges… And I must learn to take each one in stride without Bruce by my side.

Why am I sharing this? What is the point?

My point is this – the pain never really goes away. It is as if you broke a leg but never had it set correctly… it just healed as it was. You learn to live with it… You learn to laugh and walk and maybe even run, but it is never the same.

Over the last few years, I have learned to crawl, then walk… and even run. I have learned to laugh again. I have learned to dance again. I have learned to live life again. I have learned to trust that God (or the universe or whatever you want to call it) has not abandoned me, is not against me nor am I being punished… In fact, I truly believe, God loves me and has my back.

I know I was blessed… I know I still am. The fact that we had a life together at all was a miracle. But the sad reality is Bruce’s purpose on this earth was completed before mine. (Oh, how I hate it that!) But I have come to understand that my life now is determined by my perspective… And my perspective is my choice…

I know there are still lessons for me to learn (like this current path) and a purpose for me to explore. (Otherwise, I wouldn’t still be here.) But, I also know I don’t have to let go of my love for Bruce in order to do any of those things.

In other words, time does move on… Life moves on… but my heart… well, my heart doesn’t have to…

If you have experienced loss, you have probably learned lessons, too. This is our community, please share your story with us. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving a note.*

Maybe you learned something different… There is no one right answer. 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.