Tag: lonely

Peace, Love, and Grief – Absence

“The problem with death is absence.”
~ Roger Rosenblatt

Well, that says it all. I’m done.

Just kidding… well kind of… It really does seem to encapsulate the whole grief experience in a few succinct words… but I still want to linger with those words just a little bit.

Death brings up so many emotions in all of us, and those emotions can change not only each day, but with each breath. There have been times when I didn’t know what to do with all those emotions, especially in the beginning. For me, though, no matter what other emotions were in my heart, always in the periphery (if not in the foreground) were the feelings of loneliness and abandonment.

I know it sounds silly. Shoot, even to my rational mind, I know it is silly. However, from the moment I stood there and watched EMS working on Bruce, yelling at him in my mind to just breathe, but instead watching the line on the monitor remain flat, I felt like he had abandoned me. Logically, I knew better… I still know better. Yet, there is this part of me that I can’t deny which feels abandoned – left all alone to figure out the rest of my days.

Thankfully, I know better. I know Bruce would not have left me alone if he had a choice. I know he loves me… still. I know that feeling something doesn’t make it true. So, why? Why do I feel this way so often when I think about Bruce and this journey of grief that I now find myself on?

Well, the answer to that seems to go back a long way. Although, I honestly don’t know exactly where it comes from. However, I do know that feeling abandoned has been as much a part of me as my own DNA. It seems like there have always been people in my life who choose to use shunning as a form of “punishment” when they are angry rather than having the hard conversation to find a way through – either finding forgiveness or coming to an understanding that we can each live with.

Just to give you an example, my first husband could go for weeks (or even months) without talking to me whenever he felt angered or wronged in some way. The days would drag on and on, and I would fall deeper and deeper into depression and self-loathing… I would be devastated. I would lose all self-esteem as I begged and groveled for forgiveness. I can remember feeling so completely alone… and completely abandoned. Until one day, out of the blue, he would announce that he was “through being mad” and had decided to “forgive” me. No conversation… no understanding… nothing that spoke of love or caring.

At the time, I didn’t realize how emotionally abusive that was. However, after I left and began to heal, I figured it out pretty quickly. I came to understand that that was emotional abandonment, and no one deserves that… no one. I also swore I would never beg for someone to love me ever again.

With Bruce, I never did… I never had to because he truly loved me… All of me – the good, the bad, the silly, the irrational… all of me. I can honestly tell you that, because of Bruce, I know what unconditional love is and how wonderful it feels.

The night he died, though, all of those old, awful feelings from the past came rushing back… And to feel abandoned by this man who had loved me so deeply was beyond devasting.

However, life moves on… and I got help. Bruce is still gone; that won’t change. I still feel his absence each and every day. Sometimes, it is when I first wake up and realize all over again that I am the only one in the bed. Sometimes, it is when I come home to an empty house. There are also the times when I have exciting news to share or when my world feels like it is falling apart. No matter how much time passes, his absence can still take me by surprise, (as if that makes sense), and leave me with those same initial feelings of utter loneliness… and abandonment.

At the same time, I am getting quicker at recognizing what is happening and am able to remind myself that letting go “is one of the compromises we are forced to make in life”. * So, while my heart is broken right now, this is not the end… I still feel him beside me and see him in my dreams… I, also, know that he will be there waiting for me when it is my turn to say good-by here… Until then, I will miss him… and I will remind myself that absence is not always abandonment… Sometimes it is simply a temporary hole in my heart.

* Martha Whitmore Hickman, Healing After Loss
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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. 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.

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 – Alone or Lonely

Last week, I mentioned that the most difficult battles are those that lie within us. Because they are within us, those battles can vary from determining our next step on this path to searching for spiritual direction to dealing with past trauma… and the list goes on. There seems to be one element, though, that each of these battles carries… Because they lie within us, each has the potential to be emotionally charged… and that is where I need to be aware and be careful.

One of the biggest challenges that rears its ugly head over and over is that of feeling lonely. Being lonely is such an odd thing, which can lead to some awful experiences, but understanding the nuances involved can be a life saver.

I have always been an introvert… No, I’m not shy. I am referring to where and how I get my energy. For me, I recharge my batteries by being alone. It doesn’t take much, but I definitely need some time to myself each day or I tend to get a bit cranky. The good news… Bruce was the same. While we loved being together, we both needed that time apart, too.

During our marriage, it was not unusual for one of us to go somewhere at the end of a long day just to be alone for a little bit between work and home. For Bruce, it might mean a quick fishing trip off the pier or a quiet beer in a solitary corner of the local pub. For me, it usually meant going to sit by the water (ocean, lake, or river – it doesn’t matter to me) and contemplating life or just letting the sounds of the water calm my soul.

So… One would think that I would love my current situation, living all alone. To be honest, there are parts of it that I like. I enjoy the quiet. I find a respite in my favorite chair, looking out the window, and watching the world go by. For the most part, I can do what I want to do when I want to do it. Equally important, I do not have to do what I don’t want to do, either. In this sense, I truly enjoy being alone.

However, there is a space beyond being alone that is hard. It is a space of darkness that can take over my emotions before I even realize it is there… That space is called loneliness…

“It’s not being alone that hurts. It’s feeling like no one cares.”
~ Muriel, Netflix’s Virgin River

According to the internet, being alone is defined as “having no one else present”; loneliness is defined as “sadness because one has no companions”. So similar… but it is the sadness – the emotion – that makes the difference. Like drifting smoke from a low, smoldering fire, the sadness drifts into my world – unnoticed at first… and before I realize it, I am way down deep into the rabbit hole with self-pity and self-loathing becoming stronger and stronger with each breath.

I wish I understood what it is that triggers the sadness… Maybe that would make it easier to keep at bay. However, I don’t, and that can be problematic. I can’t tell you how many times, I am fine. I am alone and enjoying the moment. Then, there is a trigger. (That is the part I am still trying to figure out.) For whatever reason, as if someone has flipped a switch, I will suddenly feel totally and completely alone.

I usually find myself going through my list of family and friends in my head… “Who can I call?… Who might want to just chat?” Then, just as quickly, I talk myself out of calling anyone. Instead, I will convince myself that to call would be a bother. No one wants to talk to me… No one has time for me… They are all busy… They all have lives and families… They don’t need me to interrupt their time… (and on and on it goes).

I don’t know why I do it, but I don’t think I am alone in this. From what I have read, this is a normal part of widowhood. For whatever reason, we find it very easy to convince ourselves that no one needs us, no one cares, we are a bother… (You get the picture.) And that is where we do ourselves in. It isn’t being alone that is the problem; it is convincing ourselves that no one cares… That thought process becomes the problem.

I don’t know about you, but once I start down that path, I can spiral down quite quickly. Then, climbing back out of that spiral can take some time. It’s hard… It hurts… and sometimes I just don’t have the energy to fight it.

However, I have learned one thing that seems to help… I have a small handful of people that know this is a struggle for me. They also don’t mind being my go-to when life hurts, (and I do the same for them). It probably sounds silly, but as long as I remember to call one of these friends before I spiral too far, I am usually okay…

That is my challenge…. Remembering that I really do have people who love me, care about me, and are willing to “be there” for me before the pain gets too bad… In other words, I (not so simply) need to remember that I may be alone, but that doesn’t mean I have to be lonely.

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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. *

Peace, Love, and Grief… Love and Loneliness

Love and Loneliness… Those are two words we don’t often see together, right? Yet sometimes, the line between these two is a fine line…

I have always been a hugger. I love hugs. I love holding hands. I love snuggles. Physical touch speaks volumes to my soul… And kind, loving, physical touch brings me peace and makes me smile, because this is one of my “love languages”. *

Luckily, since Bruce and I had the same “love languages”, (touch and time), we fit… love and expressing love was easy between the two of us. We could sit for hours without speaking – just touching – and never say a word… never say “I love you”. Yet, we both felt totally and completely loved with each other.

Sometimes this looked like sitting on the beach with our pinkies linked, or riding in the car with his hand resting on my knee, or sitting on the couch holding hands, or snuggled up in bed each night. In fact, I don’t think either of us could walk past the other without a simple caress or touch… And words were not needed… There was simply so much love expressed in each simple touch.

So, when Bruce died, those loving caresses were gone… Our time spent silently saying “I love you” was over… I was (and still am) devastated.

It didn’t take long for loneliness to slip into my psyche. I wasn’t alone. Besides, being alone isn’t always loneliness… I just couldn’t figure out where I fit in, and the lack of those loving touches drained my “love bank” quite quickly, which left me feeling unloved, as well. So there I was – not belonging and unloved… that is where my grief settled in.

More than likely, there are several of you thinking that there was a simple fix for this – just ask for what you need… I know… I did.

Thankfully, the people around me who knew me best were very generous with their hugs. (Honestly, without those people, I don’t know where I would be today.) Even my co-workers were willing to give me a big, old hug most mornings… Then suddenly, it was 2020 and Covid hit. Seemingly overnight, we were all isolated. My hugs were greatly reduced… and I struggled.

Now, those days seem to be behind us… We are, once again, able to get out and be a community again. However, we spent so long in isolation, it seems that there are some changes from those days that appear to be a permanent part of our existence.

For example, we now tend to interact less and keep a certain distance – both physically and emotionally. I get it… Covid is still around and many of us don’t want to be sick. Also, I believe that after so many years of distancing, shaking hands or hugging now feels awkward… And not just with strangers or acquaintances, but with anyone we don’t live with or see on a day-to-day basis.

Shoot, even I find myself hanging back. As much as I might crave a hug or some kind of human touch, I have become acclimated to a world where this is no longer as socially acceptable as before.

So, while I (rationally) know I am loved, feeling it is another story… And when you don’t feel loved, you don’t feel like you belong. Yes, I know these are just emotions – not reality, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

Thankfully, I have fabulous people in my life… People who have recognized this and reach out consistently. In turn, I am also pushing myself past my comfort zone, and getting involved in my community. These steps have become important for me… Steps I am taking to broaden that line… that line that appeared when Bruce died… that thin line between love and loneliness…

* If you have never read The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman, I would highly recommend it.
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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, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined. Each time I think I have it all figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. Life is filled with challenges for all of us. For me, my goal is to look at this year before me and (intentionally) hold onto the joy and the hope life holds.
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… Another Year

“Because when we experience the loss of a life partner,
we often lose someone who makes us feel seen, heard, and secure.”
~ Dr. Katherine Shear

I can’t believe it is a new year… 2021. I can’t believe I am facing another year alone… Another year without him. Some days it feels like it has been forever since I last hear his voice, and other days it seems like only yesterday I was lying in his arms. It doesn’t really matter, though because either way, my feelings are the same – I miss him.

I miss my friend. I miss my lover. I miss my “partner in crime.” I miss having someone around who (for the most part) gets me. (And when he didn’t, he was pretty good at either faking it or going along with me anyway.) It’s like there is another half to my soul, and he filled it perfectly… but now he is gone, and that space is a void.

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 2013

I am not an extroverted person. I’m not shy – I’m just not an aggressive conversationalist. I tend to listen more than I talk. But when I do talk, I like to be heard… Bruce was that person for me. He was the one who always made me feel heard. Even when neither of us was saying a word, I never felt invisible when he was by my side… A gentle touch of his hand or a certain look in my direction, and I knew that he knew… I miss that invisible, quiet communication.

I read an article this week about the loneliness of grief. (*) I think that is what I am dread the most… The loneliness that seems to go on and on. Yes, I have friends and family who love me, and I love them. We spend time together – we hang out, we laugh, and we genuinely enjoy being together. I’m not depressed. I don’t go around with tears in my eyes. I enjoy life, and we have a good time (even with all the craziness of this past year).

I guess what I’m trying to say it that it isn’t the same. If it were, there wouldn’t have been a space for Bruce to fill within my own soul in the first place. Sure, life is fun… I look forward to each day and what it has to offer. I make plans – I do things, and it is all great.

Yet, none of that changes the fact that this world is still a lonely place for me… without him.

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, 2020

* Here is the link for that article I mentioned: https://www.self.com/story/checking-in-podcast-grief-loneliness-loss

I don’t think it really matters if your loss is recent or if it has been a while, facing a new year can be hard. It can be a reminder that we are still here, and they aren’t. This can sometimes create an emotional roller coaster, because grief changes how we look at life and the world around us. It changes how we experience everything. Sometimes the best we can do is to just keep trying – don’t quit… don’t give up on yourself. And don’t be scared to reach out to others and ask for what you need. Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would 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.

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… Learn to Be Lonely

Learn to Be Lonely
Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
Learn to find your way in darkness
Who will be there for you?
Comfort and care for you?
Learn to be lonely
Learn to be your one companion
Never dreamed out in the world
There are arms to hold you
Your heart was on its own
So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived
Life can be loved
Alone
~Andrew Lloyd Webber, Phantom of the Opera

A few years ago, when I heard this song, it really hit home with me… I can remember my eyes filling with tears, and I thought, “Yes, exactly! That is where I am.” … Learning to live alone… and learning how to love this life despite being alone.

According to the dictionary, the word “lonely” has several definitions. The one that seems to hit home for me since becoming a widow is “Without others of a similar kind.” I believe it seems to validate why I often feel so lonely… because within my family and my closest friends, I am the only widow. There is absolutely no one who can understand exactly what this feels like. So, while I am around the people I love almost all the time, I am the only one that knows what this journey is like… how hard it can be… how lonely it can be…

And (while they may not realize it is still a battle for me), how determined I am to not just live my life, but to love it, too…

That really is the hard part – learning how to love life again…

I love the people I am with – my family and my friends. I love the laughter and adventures we share. I love taking trips together. I love simple debates and intimate conversations… I love all these things and more.

But there are still things I miss… Things which no one around me can replace…

I miss being held and feeling the safety of his arms. I miss looks across the room that convey an entire conversation without a word being spoken. I miss sharing a private joke and dreaming about our future together. I miss caring for and supporting each other. I miss hugs when I’m down or for absolutely no reason at all. I miss extra dishes in the sink and seeing his beer in the frig… I miss the way he wore shorts in the dead of winter and always cooked in his bare feet. I miss being greeted at the door with a glass of wine and dancing in the kitchen. There is so much… And I miss it all!

I am alone.
All alone.
No longer is there someone to listen at the end of the day.
No longer are there arms to hug me or lips to kiss away the hurt.
No longer is there someone to say, “I love you… That’s all we need.”
All that greets me is silence, emptiness and my own thoughts…
I am alone…
All alone…
And it hurts…
~ Linda, September 2013

I know life goes on… That is a reality I have had to accept over the years…

At first, I couldn’t imagine ever smiling again, much less laughing. I couldn’t imagine celebrating anything. I couldn’t imagine a day without tears or a night where I would actually sleep peacefully all night long. In other words, I couldn’t imagine that life could possibly continue and be worth living without Bruce to share it with.

But…

I have learned to smile again. I have learned to have fun and to laugh again. I have learned to find new adventures. I have learned to be content in my own head. I have learned to try new adventures which push me beyond my comfort zone. In other words, I really am learning to live again… Only this time, I am learning how to do it without Bruce being physically by my side… without anyone to tell me how to make this work… without a clue of how to do this…

How? I can’t really say there has been a magic formula… All I know is every day I get back up, say a prayer for strength, put a smile on my face… and try again. In other words, it is an unending process to learn how “to be lonely” and still be okay… (It’s not an easy feat… It is a day by day challenge.)

However, down in my soul, I believe Bruce is watching… and smiling… and saying, “You can do this.”

Everyone deals with grief and the loneliness it creates in their own way and in their own time… These are only my thoughts and observations about this last year as I find myself muddling through life and tackling new challenges (some well beyond my comfort zone). Maybe grief has been that way for you, as well. Learning to navigate this journey tends to show us we are stronger than we thought we were, even when our loneliness leaves us feeling completely vulnerable.

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

* 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 Hardest Time of Day

I am alone… all alone.
No longer is there someone to listen at the end of a bad day.
No longer are there arms to hug me;
Or lips to kiss away the hurt.
No longer is there someone to say,
“I love you, and that’s all we need.”
All that greets me is silence,
Emptiness,
And my own thoughts.
~ Linda, September 2013

Here is the question, “What is the hardest time of day for you?” I was doing some reading about grief this week, when that question came up. As I sat and pondered it for a while, I realized that the answer has been an ever changing one for me.

When Bruce first died, any time I was awake was hard. Sleep was the only thing that gave me any relief from the pain of losing him. I was so numb and in shock that I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. Sometimes, I would just sit and stare at the walls for hours, while other times I would find myself wandering through our house looking for… what? I can’t tell you. He wasn’t there… I knew he wasn’t there. I was alone… I was all alone.

After a few weeks, I returned to work. I needed life to return to some kind normalcy. I also knew if I stayed home alone any longer, I might never be able to pull myself out of the dark hole I found myself in. It was at that point that the evenings became the hardest time of day for me.

Because Bruce had never been to my office. He had never been inside that space… Nor was he involved in that part of my day. So, that space felt somewhat normal. Since he had never been there, there was no expectation that I would miss him there. (I hope that makes since.)

However, the minute I turned the corner onto our street, I would see his SUV still parked in the driveway. My heart would leap a little, as I immediately thought, “Bruce is home!” Then, just as quickly, I would remember… And my heart would fall to pieces.

By the time I walked inside, the tears were streaming down my face. So many times, I would walk inside, collapse in the middle of the living room floor, and just cry… Where was he?! Why?? Why did this have to be? I couldn’t comprehend it. It was awful… And it was day after day.

Without you, this house is so quiet it is deafening.
Even the thoughts in my own head can’t drown out the quiet.
It is always here – waiting to swallow my sanity.
~ Linda, November 2013

But, as we know, life is ever changing… Like the waves on the beach, nothing stays the same. As for my life, it changed again a few years ago when my daughter and grandson moved in. No more deafening quiet… No more lonely evenings… Instead, once again, this house was full of noise and laughter and love. It was great! It changed everything about my world. It probably sounds crazy, but for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had a purpose again. It was absolutely refreshing!

Does that mean I know longer have “hard times?” Of course not! It just isn’t the central focus of every moment. My heart is still broken, and I still miss Bruce. However, my hardest time of the day now seems to be that time when I turn out the lights at the end of the day. There is something about lying there in the dark – alone. That is the time my mind turns to him. That is the time I will quietly talk to him… Wishing he were still here to listen… and answer… Wishing he could still hold me tight as we fall asleep… In other words, I find myself wishing for those things I know will never be.

Sometimes I wonder if I will ever stop grieving completely… I doubt it. When Bruce left, there was a huge hole left in my soul. I have worked hard over the years to patch it up… I have made a conscious (daily) effort at healing. Yet, deep down, I still miss him. And I believe that as long as I have moments alone, I will always have a “hardest part of my day.”

I wake up,
And I reach for you,
But you aren’t there.
I long to feel your warm body
Next to mine.
In my sleep, I try to snuggle closer,
But there is only empty space.
Each time, I am pulled out of my dreams.
Then, I am awake
With nothing but the realization
That you are gone.
How long will is this going to go on?
Will my soul
Ever be content to sleep alone?
Will my heart
Always reach out for you in the dark?
… Probably.
~ Linda, July 2018

How about you? What is your hardest time of the day? Or what are your triggers? Would you be willing to share with us, please? Would you tell us your story? This path can be a hard and lonely 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.

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… Lonely But Not Alone

As the Christmas season takes off with a bang, I find myself in a love/hate relationship with it… I go back and forth between excitement and joy for the season versus tears and sadness because Bruce isn’t here to share it… between feeling loved by my circle of family and friends versus overwhelming loneliness because the person I love is no longer here to by my side.

As we decorate our house or listen to Christmas music, each ornament and song stirs precious Christmas memories. When those memories circle around Bruce, I find myself either smiling… or crying. I never seem know which is coming… There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to any of it, (and it’s hard to control something you don’t understand). If I am with anyone else, then I really push myself to smile. I know this is a happy season, and the last thing anyone needs to deal with is my grief. But, whenever I am alone and the tears start, I let them come… At least for a little bit, because I need to let it out somehow.

While I don’t understand all the triggers, I know this – I am not alone, but I am lonely… and there is a huge difference.

Being alone refers to the number of people present… For example, one (just me) vs three (me plus the other people who live in my house). I have no problem being alone. I enjoy “me” time and seek it out at least once a week. However, I also enjoy having my daughter and grandson living here. I love their company, the laughter and relationships. I love the feelings of love and support which are a constant in this home. At this point, I am only alone when I choose to be alone… And I love knowing it is a choice.

For me, though, feeling lonely is something completely different… It is that feeling that there is something deep inside that is missing. I believe it is the longing for a specific relationship… One that was taken away without any warning… And to be completely honest, I DON’T LIKE IT! NOT ONE BIT! Even after all this time, I still don’t like it! I would still give absolutely anything to have Bruce back… even for just one more hour… one more moment together.

It is the longing for that relationship… for that person which makes me feel lonely. I believe there will always be a part of me in every moment that will long for Bruce. I know it sounds hokey to say “he completed me.” I know we should “be whole individuals” on our own… But I also know humans are relational. Rare is the person who goes through life absolutely alone (with no one else) and still remains happy. We need other people… We need deep, intimate relationships.

For me, Bruce was the person with whom I shared that deep intimate relationship. He knew and understood me… He knew things about me, no one else will ever know… And yet, he still loved me… I miss that… I miss the way we could share a look and know exactly what the other one was thinking. I miss his hugs and his gentle touch. I miss his smile when he was up to no good, and his laughter when life touched his soul. I miss looking into his eyes and seeing nothing but love in return. I miss the way he believed in me, and supported whatever adventure I wanted to pursue next. I miss all of this and so much more… I miss him…

And that is what makes me feel lonely.

So while there are others here who love me, and I love them, there will always be someone missing – Bruce. And for him, I will always feel lonely… There will always be a part of me, that is missing… a part that feels incomplete and lost.

Lately, I have been better at managing to keep my lonely moments to those times I am alone. However, I guess, this season of love and family also carries many triggers for that loneliness. I do know each year, this season holds more joy and fewer tears than the year before. However, I doubt I will ever get used to the idea of celebrating Christmas, (or living this life), without Bruce…

And even though I am not alone, and I am very loved, there will always be a part of me that is lonely… Please, be patient with me…

I miss you, Babe! <3

I am so thankful for this virtual group. Our support for each other always touches my heart, and I feel close to you through the experiences we share. Is there anyone else out there who is experiencing that loneliness I am talking about? Please share your thoughts and stories, so others will realize what they feel is normal too… We are all dealing with some extremely 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

* 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… This can’t be the man I love

Some days I am just lonely… I could be in a crowd of people or with a group of dear friends, but knowing that Bruce is gone – I feel lonely. Today is one of those days. I remember another one of those days. The day I picked up Bruce’s ashes from the funeral home… That day I felt the most alone I have ever felt – both physically and emotionally.

I need to start this story by going back… back to the hours, days and weeks after Bruce passed away. Some of these memories are sketchy, which is normal due to the shock the body experiences at times of such trauma. But because I almost immediately started keeping a journal, most of these early experiences were captured there. When I reread these entries, I find that I remember some of it, have absolutely no recollection of other parts of it, and still other vague, foggy memories are triggered as I read what I wrote and felt.

Our last time together was on a Friday night. Bruce passed away in the wee hours of Saturday morning. When the Medical Examiner’s office came to pick up his body from the hospital a few hours later, I was preparing to leave. Someone handed me a card with the Medical Examiner’s information and told me I could “call tomorrow to make arrangements” for Bruce’s body. In all honestly, I had no idea what they were talking about. Now, it is obvious, but at the time, I was so lost and confused… in complete denial and incredibly overwhelmed.

Most of my and Bruce’s family started arriving at our house later that morning and on into the evening. I don’t remember a lot about who showed up when, but I do remember bits and pieces of those first few days.

I remember my sister showing up with tons of tissue, which was brilliant on her part because I never used to keep this in my house. (Now I keep it in every room since I never know when I’m going to need it.) I remember my Mom and sister cooking and waiting on everyone there… meal after meal. (They worked so hard!) I remember the awful, quiet when nobody knew what to say, because there was nothing to be said that would make any of us feel better. I remember people saying they would stay for as long as I needed them. (Which, of course, was an impossible promise.)

I, also, remember being asked if I knew “what Bruce wanted”… which I did. Whenever he and I had these discussions, Bruce had always said he wanted to be cremated and have his ashes scattered in the ocean. As he put it, he “did not want to sit on a shelf somewhere.” He didn’t want a viewing or a church service… He hated being the center of attention, and even in death, he wanted everything to be simple. But that was pretty much all I knew. It’s not like we ever really thought this was going to happen any time soon… We had never sat down and wrote out a plan.

At some point on Sunday, Bruce’s Dad (who is one of the dearest people I have ever known) asked if I had called a funeral home yet. I was stunned! ME? I was the one who was supposed to do that?? I don’t remember exactly what I said or how that kind, dear man answered me, but a short time later, I found myself looking in the Yellow Pages for a funeral home in a town I barely knew.

I didn’t know one funeral home from another, but opted for the one that was less than a mile from our home. I remember the man who answered told me no one was there that day, but he would have someone call me first thing Monday morning. “… By 10 am, ” he assured me. I don’t know what I expected to hear when I called on a Sunday, but it seemed odd that I couldn’t even set up an appointment… and stranger still was the amount of time I would have to wait to even start making any type of arrangements.

Monday morning came and went with no call. By mid-afternoon, I finally called again and was told, “Oh yes. I got your message. But we got busy here and I forgot.” Since customer service is a huge part of my own job, I was a bit appallled. Even if he did forget, why would he say that to someone who is already dealing with a tragedy?? At this point in my journey, I know I should have just called another funeral home. However, at that point, it didn’t even register that I had options.

A short time later, my sister, Bruce’s sisters and I went to the funeral home to meet with the director and “make arrangements.” All I remember is he asked so many questions… and thankfully, Bruce’s sisters were there to answer – I couldn’t remember anything. (I don’t think I could even spell my own name.)

I remember giving the funeral director permission to write the obituary. (Never mind, he didn’t know Bruce at all). All I knew was I couldn’t do it. I also remember choosing the container for Bruce’s ashes. I knew I would be spreading his ashes in the ocean, so he wouldn’t need a permanent container. The one I chose had a picture of an ocean sunset (or sunrise, I suppose) on it. I had noticed it when we walked in, and it reminded me of our trips to Key West. That was the only thing I remembering feeling confident about… everything else is just a blur.

Within the next day or two, my Mom and Dad left. Over the next few days, when his ashes were still not back, his family and my kids needed to leave, as well. The only person who remained was my sister. God love her! She stayed for as long as she could, but she has a family and responsibilities too… And eventually, she needed to go home as well.

I don’t really remember saying goodbye to anyone. I do remember walking back into the house after my sister left, and for the first time since that night being completely alone… and scared. I didn’t think I could do this… I didn’t want to do this. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me… Anything but this!

In my journal, I wrote:

Can we just begin again? Can I have these 8 years back? I know they were great, and I don’t really have any regrets – we hardly ever fought. I just want the time back! I want to feel his arms around me, a kiss on my neck from behind. I want to wake up on a lazy Sunday morning and make love knowing neither of us needs to hurry and go anywhere. I want to fall asleep in his arms. I want to skip the dinner dishes to snuggle with him on the couch. I miss hearing him call me “Babe” and Micheal, “Boudreaux.” I miss his empty beer cans on the counter and his mess in the bathroom. I miss the sureness of him sitting in his easy chair every morning – drinking tea, doing sudoku, watching the news and letting his heating pad do its magic on his back. I miss his strong hugs, his friendship, and his cheesy smile when he was trying to “pull one over on me.” I miss him. Please, send him back. I need him… I need him soooo much. Please, God! Don’t make me do this!

On the afternoon of January 23, the funeral home called… Bruce’s ashes were finally back and I needed to go pick them up. I didn’t really know my neighbors well enough to ask anyone to go with me, so I went alone.

I… was… terrified! This was too real! Too final!!

When I got to the funeral home, the death certificates weren’t complete, so I refused them. The secretary who had called and was assisting me, grudgingly took them back and started complaining that she had been out, she wasn’t feeling well, no one had told her anything… blah, blah, blah…

Really?? All I could think was, “My husband is dead. Why are you complaining to me? I really don’t care.” Of course I didn’t say that… Instead, I apologized that no one had told her, that I had inconvenienced her, and that she didn’t feel well. (Ridiculous!)

Then, to make matters worse, she tried to give me the wrong ashes. (Holy cow!) She kept insisting that the 5 small metal urns she was holding were Bruce. However, I saw the container I had chosen on the back of the shelf. I refused the ones she was trying to hand me and pointed out the correct one, explaining that I had chosen a temporary urn, since we would be spreading his ashes in the ocean.

After a frustrated sigh, checking and rechecking the tags and paperwork and a (never-ending) monologue about what she wanted done with her own ashes, she finally took Bruce’s ashes off the shelf and put them into a shopping bag – complete with the funeral home logo!… I was so horrified! A shopping bag??!! Do these people also put their logo on the sides of their caskets?? I was completely disgusted… It felt so commercial… so irreverent… To put it simply, it was just plain wrong!

Once I was back in my car, I remember looking at the container and thinking, “This can’t be Bruce! How can the man I knew and loved be in this small container.” I didn’t dare look inside… I knew I couldn’t handle that. Instead, I placed the container in my lap and literally wailed all the way home. It was the most UNreal experience I’ve ever known.

Once I got home, I place his ashes on his dresser and lit several candles around it. Then, I sat vigil for the next 24 hours (or so). I remember thinking I didn’t want to leave him… I couldn’t leave him… I needed to stay right there and protect him. I can’t explain why this seemed so important at the time, all I know is it did. For whatever reason, I needed to do this.

20160221_175502-1

As I sat there, I wrote in my journal… Here is a small sample:

I toast to you, Bruce.
 the best man who ever lived.
You taught me love and kindness.
You taught me to live life and not just work.
You taught me that even when family makes you crazy, it’s okay. They are wonderful and to still love them.
Be happy, Babe! Don’t sail too far away – wait for me, again…
I love you!

During those hours, I remember one thought kept going through my mind over and over, “How can this be Bruce?” Surely he was more than this dust sitting in front of me. I remember wondering, “What is it that makes us who we are? Is it our soul? What is a soul? What is our spirit? What is it that makes us who we are?”

I can’t say that I have all the answers, but over time, I have come to know this for sure…

The part of us that makes us who we are, whether you call that spirit or soul, is not physical. Like our thoughts and emotions, it cannot be seen or held or touched. Instead, it is an energy that we put out into the world. It is just as real and just as present as our physical bodies, maybe even more so… but it was not in that container of ashes. Those ashes were only the “physical Bruce.”

And I love Bruce’s spirit… his soul… his energy… and according to what I believe, that part is eternal…

Do you have a story to share? A story about coming to terms with your loved one’s death? If so, please share it with us… This is OUR community. Feel free to share your thoughts and experiences by going to the comments and leaving 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

* 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 other side

… Show me I’m not alone.
~ Linda, February 14, 2014

This week was a little bit unusual for me. Call it a lesson or a reminder – whatever you call it doesn’t matter. What matters is I needed it… I needed to be reminded what it is like to be on the other side of loss. The side that is looking on; the side that wants to be supportive but isn’t quite sure how.

At the beginning of the week a friend of mine lost her daughter. My heart broke for her as she dealt with all those crazy emotions that make up grief… all the while trying to be “brave” for everyone around her. Why do we try so hard to hide that pain? Why do we feel the need to “protect” the world from something we will all experience at some point in our lives?… I don’t know, but we do.

In an effort to say something, I found myself wanting to say all those cliches that drive me so crazy. I may have even said one or two before I caught myself. How ridiculous is that? After all this time, I know better… but so many of those phrases are so ingrained in us. After all, this is what we’re “supposed” to say, right? And I wanted so badly to lift her pain – to make her feel better.

I found myself trying to convince her to feel better before I started actually listening to myself. Then I shut up because I remembered… I remembered what is was like to lose little baby Matthew and what is was like to lose Bruce. I remembered that all I wanted was someone to let me feel whatever I was feeling with no judgement or words. Someone willing to just be there… Someone to just listen or hold me while I cried.

A few days later I came across a scene on my way to work that shook me to my core. My drive is about an hour on a two lane highway through the marsh. As I came around a bend in the road, I saw several police cars, the County Coroner and a small sedan with the back passenger door open – all parked on the side of the road. There was no apparent crash or people. “Weird,” I thought. Then I saw something laying on the side of the road. Then I saw three of them… bodies (not even covered to protect them from the rain).

I have no idea who these people were or what transpired there. All I know is I started to cry… I cried for the people laying there. I cried for their families. I cried for the policemen and the men working this scene. But mostly I cried for all of us… for this world that can’t seem to figure out how to live in peace with one another.

Then there was today… I spent today with two men – George and Bob. I was working as a volunteer at an event for homeless vets. While this event is intended for our homeless veterans, no one is turned away. It is a one day event in which the homeless from several counties are offered food and clothing. On top of that, our homeless vets are offered such services as health screenings, job placement and benefits counseling.

As our homeless enter the event, a volunteer escort greets them. We spend the day with these men and women. We eat meals with them and help them find the services they need but most important, we are their friend… We talk to them and listen to their stories.

The first year I volunteered, it was a few months after Bruce died. I found myself wanting to do something for someone else… I wanted to forget about my own loss and spend some time focusing on someone else. I went with the intention of helping them… of making a change in their world. But every year, I find that I am the one that is blessed. I always know in my soul that I have gained so much more than I have given.

Today when I met George, he barely talked at first. In fact, the first thing he said to me (that was audible) was “I hate women.” I was a little surprised but not insulted. I just smiled and told him that if he would like we could go back to the front and find a gentleman to walk with him instead. It would be fine – it was no problem. “No,” he said. “I think I might like you okay.” Then he paused for minute and said, “It’s people I don’t trust… I haven’t really talked to anyone in about 10 years… You seem okay though… Maybe I won’t mind talking to you.”

So we sat down to breakfast and I listened. I listened to George tell me his life story. A story of how he had gone from being a Navy man, husband and father of three “beautiful” boys to the man he is now – a man who lives in a tent way back in the woods… alone.

He doesn’t beg for money. (He was very adamant about that.) Instead, he goes early in the morning (before the rest of the world is awake) to find money that people have dropped in the parking lots of bars. He says he can find anywhere from $1 – $10 a day. “People are clumsy after they have been drinking,” he told me. “They reach in their pockets for their keys and never notice when money falls out, too. I can usually find enough to buy some food.”

He was so proud to share pictures of his tent and his friends. His tent is extremely tidy and furnished. (It was like something out of Swiss Family Robinson.) His friends are the racoons and the cats in the area. He has named all of them and described each one and their personality. We talked all morning and on through lunch before he was ready to go back home.

It was then that he insisted on giving me a gift – one of the new items he had received today. I kept trying to explain that I didn’t need it. “I know that,” he said. “But I want to give it to you anyway…” Then, very quietly, “It’s my way of thanking you if that’s okay.”

I feel so blessed this evening as I write this. I know without a doubt that George and Bob were in my life today for a purpose… a purpose they will never know. Isn’t it that way for all of us? We never know whose life we are touching or affecting.

Whether we are the ones dealing with loss and being supported or the ones trying to offer support, it doesn’t matter. What matters is showing each other we are not alone.

It is the relationships and people in our lives that matter and make life worth living. Even if our words or actions come out wrong or clumsy, it is better than doing nothing. As long as we never lose our connections to one another – our relationships with each other – we can learn to lean on each other, support one another and survive our losses.

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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Here comes the sun

For most of this week I remained in the same sad mode I was in last week. That isn’t normal… Usually I shake it off after a day or so. I’m not sure why this melancholy mood stuck around… but it did.

It seems weird to me that after 2.5 years, I can still feel so sad… It is a sadness that goes all the way to my core. And sometimes, I am at a loss as to how to shake it.

This week I closed the door to my office to “deal with it”… But that didn’t work. So I opened my door to talk to the world and try to forget… but that didn’t work either. I wrote in my journal, worked in my garden, went to the beach, and played the piano – all in an effort to get it out… but nope – nothing.

It’s been too long to still think anyone wants to listen to me cry. So instead, I tried telling jokes or listening to everyone else’s issues and stories. This week, I celebrated birthdays and new jobs and listened to bad days and arguments… but still this grief and sadness continued.

My kids just happened to be calling more this week. (I guess God put it a bug in their ear on my behalf.) To be honest, they have been my biggest blessing… especially this week. One of my neighbors noticed that my house was staying closed up and came on over to sit with me a while… she, too, has blessed my week more than she will ever know.

I posted on my personal Face Book page that I felt lost… I did. I wasn’t depressed. I was sad… I’m still grieving – There’s a huge difference in my book. Some people get it… others want to fix it. They all mean well, but I’m not broken, so I can’t be fixed. This is a journey, and sometimes I am just looking for some extra support when I am struggling.

Some days I ask God to help me… other days I am mad at him all over again. Is this normal? I don’t know… probably. Who knows what is “normal” when it comes to grief.

The hard part for me is that I don’t have anyone I am particularly close to that has lost a spouse. My parents and Bruce’s parents are both still here. My sister and Bruce’s sisters are still happily married. None of my closest friends or my coach have ever lost a spouse. So many times I find myself wishing my grandmothers were still alive so I could talk to them. They would have some good advice, I’m sure. As it is, I really don’t know who to ask what is normal… so I am lost… and I am very much alone.

I’ve read so many of the books, and there are some great ones out there. I’ve researched grief (because research is whatI do) and found a lot of good solid information. I did the support group thing… and found it wasn’t my thing. (I wasn’t real comfortable sharing my deepest feelings with a room full of strangers… that was a nightmare for me!)

Ultimately, I believe it comes down to this… time. Yep – time. And for anyone grieving the length of time will vary. For some people, it may be a few months; for others, it may take years. We’re all different. This week I discovered that according to research, the average time for a widow to feel strong and ready to move ahead is 12 – 14 years… and that’s an average! Wow! That speaks volumes to me.

What I know for sure is I need to just be patient with myself. I need to stop pushing myself – if I feel sad, then I feel sad. When I feel happy, then (yay) I feel happy. Go with it. Feel what I feel – one moment at a time… just be careful not to drop too low or drag anyone down with me.

Thursday night I stumbled across the video below. I’ve always loved this song and this particular rendition has touched my heart. Since Bruce died I’ve said that there is hope in divorce but not in death, but this song reminds me that there is always hope… as long as I believe in it.

http://jewishstandard.timesofisrael.com/israeli-duos-perfect-here-comes-the-sun/

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.