Tag: memories

Peace, Love, and Grief – Reflections

Just as Christmas quickly approaches, so does the end of 2023… Sometimes in the bustle of all that is the holiday season, we put off reflecting on the passing year until the last minute or once the new year begins. This year, as I try to be more mindful, I have found myself reflecting now versus later. This has been a year of loss and a year of gain… True to life in its purest form, 2023 has been a balance of both.

While I know this and accept this, the holiday season still holds its challenges. I still miss Bruce. I’d be lying if I said otherwise. I would give anything to have him here, but he isn’t… and he isn’t the only one who is missing. As I have written throughout the year, there are several people who have left my life this last year. It’s hard, and I grieve them all… not just Bruce.

Then, this morning, I read this:

“Our lives are always changing. Just as people come into our lives, they also leave – some gradually, others abruptly… Christmas is the perfect time to remember those who, for whatever reason, are no longer with us.”
~ Rev. Teresa Burton, Advent: The Sweetest Christmas, December 17, 2023

Each of us has experienced that sense of loss at some point in our lives. Sometimes those we love and care about leave because of life circumstances… maybe we just lose touch over the distance of time or space. Sometimes, that loss is not intentional, and sometimes it is… Sometimes there is the painful reality of changes in relationships, where someone decides it is healthier to part ways… Sometimes it is due to illness… or even death. No matter what the cause, none of it is easy, especially during the holidays.

This week, I have found myself reflecting on the people who will be missing from my home this season. As I said when referring to Bruce, no matter the reason for the distance or loss, it makes me sad… I hate it… I grieve it.

Earlier this week, I even found myself wishing things were different… Wishing I could have just one more hug from each of them. As I dwelt on it more and more, I found myself wanting to change the way things are… to resist the distance someone placed between us or to bring back those who have passed. I want a perfect world with a perfect holiday season. I want all “my people” in my home and for the space to be filled with nothing but love for one another.

In other words, I want to be in control and have it the way I think is best… But as I have been learning this year, that is not realistic, nor is it life. Plus, I don’t really want to manage everyone’s life… I know I don’t have all the answers. In fact, many times this year, I have thought my world was falling apart, only to realize as things played out, that God/the Universe has it all under control… In fact, often times, the best things have come as the result of what initially seemed awful.

So… instead of being in charge of anyone else, we each get to make our own choices, and honestly, I want it that way. We all need to find our own way on our own path… and we need to accept it when others make their own choices – even the ones that break our hearts… And that’s not easy. However, life is all about the ups and downs… It is about learning to navigate those hills and valleys… and still finding a way that exudes love and peace.

So that is my goal this week, as Christmas and the New Year approach… To reflect on the warm memories of those who have left my life… To appreciate those who are still in it… To send love and peace out into the world in a way that transcends distance, space, time, and physical or metaphysical planes. I want to continue this path to peace by accepting what I cannot change… Loving those who are gone… and appreciating what I do have by focusing on all those who continue to fill my world with love and peace each day.

“We must meet the experiences of life with the knowledge of their part in life. To do this is to have power over the events of life. We cannot stay in any place and say: ‘Here is where I want to be. I don’t want anything else to happen to me. I want to be away from the fret and worry of common life. I want to stay on this high mountain or in this ivory tower.’ This isn’t the way life is. This isn’t the way to happiness or contentment. Strange as it may seem, happiness, joy, contentment, and victory belong to the overcomer.”

~ Paul Hasselbeck, Heart-Centered Metaphysics

________________________________________________________

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 has been 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… And Just Like That, It’s Halloween Again

I can’t believe it is already Halloween… again! My goodness! Where does the time go? Throughout my life – while growing up, when my children were little, and while Bruce was alive, Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. However, the season always seemed to start WAY before December… In a way, Halloween has always marked the beginning of an entire season of fun – A time filled with holidays and big events with Christmas being the climax.

To this day, I am so very thankful for the last holiday season that Bruce and I shared. The memories from that year are so very precious now. Although at the time, it just seemed like another holiday season. With Halloween falling this weekend, I am reminded again, just how precious our time with our loved ones really is…

Until Bruce died, I never really thought of Halloween as a holiday with special memories, but I was wrong… As I look back, over the years I can find so many small things that still make me smile….

For example, when we lived in Michigan, there were no Trick or Treaters. We lived in a second-floor condo which required a code for entrance. There were no children in the building except my (then) teenage daughter and no way for anyone to enter. So, no one knocked on our door yelling, “Trick or Treat.” We didn’t buy candy, and other than the shenanigans at work, it was just another day.

Then when we moved to Florida, we decided to live in an apartment for the first year until we got our bearings. With the exception of my (then) toddler grandson dressed as a pirate and one group of teenagers (who knocked on our door at 10 PM) no one came. Again, other than the shenanigans at work, it was pretty much just another day.

Then, we moved to the house where I live now…

I knew there were a lot of children in the neighborhood, so I bought three of those huge bags of candy and tried to prep Bruce for what was probably coming. For him, it had been well over a decade since he had answered a door on Halloween to pass out candy. At the time, though, all he heard was “candy.” As soon as he realized I had hidden it somewhere in the house, it was “game on”… He went on a hunt despite my saying that it was for Halloween – not him.

I will always remember the Cheshire Cat grin on his face as he walked back into the kitchen with a handful of chocolate. He had found the entire stash in the third place he looked. I couldn’t figure out how in the world he had found it so flippin’ fast! According to him, the fact that I am so short narrowed the hiding places down by more than half. Then, he just thought of where there might be enough space for three huge bags… All I can tell you is that by Halloween, I had to replace more than one of those silly bags.

On Halloween, he grouched every time the doorbell rang, and I laughed and poked fun at him for being a crabby, old man… The next year, our last Halloween together, was different, though. He was actually excited about the night and loved answering the door. I stood back and watched him as he talked to all the kids (even the teenagers). He even found a mask he had bought years before and tried to scare a few poor souls. It was such a fun night, and we both fell into bed laughing at the end of it.

Now looking back, I don’t know if he was just trying to enjoy Halloween or if he knew what was coming and wanted to leave me with some fun memories… Either way, that night warms my heart.

The next year was my first year without Bruce quickly, and the day became a challenge that I wasn’t expecting. To my mind, Halloween is a kid’s holiday. It really isn’t about adults or family memories… And to be honest, we had only had one really fun Halloween together. However, that first year showed me that Halloween would come to mark the start of what is generally a few rough months for me emotionally…

Journal: 10/31/2013
(morning)
“The first of the holidays – this one always feels like the “kick-off” for the holiday season. I don’t really feel like celebrating but I did buy candy. I woke up this morning, and I just feel pissed. I don’t think this will be a good day… not really looking forward to it – don’t really feel like festivities or anything like it.“

(night)
“Halloween without you, Babe! Too hard!! I miss you!! I keep thinking about you answering the door last year and all the fun. This year is hard, though. I am listening to Jimmy Buffet and wishing you were here… Six kids so far and I am crying. Maybe I should just turn out the light and call it a night.
So sad… just so very sad… What is – is. Nothing I do will ever change it. I feel like I shouldn’t be here, but I am… maybe one day I will understand why I am still here.”

Then, years later, I spent Halloween with my daughter and grandson.

Journal: 11/1/2015
“Hi Babe… This weekend was really good for me. I couldn’t be with you, but I was with people I love. I’m sure you would guess that we stayed very busy. You would have loved watching our grandson… he is more excited about his costume and handing out the candy, than actually going door to door to get any (which just cracks me up.) Afterward, there was an impromptu party back at the house. It was wonderful chaos – the house was filled with very tired but laughing adults and kids too excited to settle down.
Saturday included an Octoberfest at their school/church. You would have loved it – German food and beer. I only teared up once… when the kids performed their Fall music program. I know you were there… I know you were watching… but I still wish I could have seen your face. You and your little “Beaudroux” had such a close connection, I know you would have been beaming with pride.
The night ended with a dinner party at a friend’s house. It was fun, and they made me feel so welcome. I can’t say I like it, but I am getting (more) used to going to parties without you by my side…
It wasn’t until the wee, dark hours of the night when I was actually alone with my thoughts that the tears fell. My emotions were a little bit of melancholy, sadness, loneliness and (believe it or not)… guilt. I miss you, Babe. I still managed to have fun but then I feel guilty about that. Crazy, I know, but that is what I felt. I wonder if that is normal?“

Through the years, I have gotten stronger. While these next few months are still difficult ones for me, I have definitely gotten better at taking it one day… one moment at a time. I am better at enjoying the time with friends and family and cherishing the memories we are making together. I have also learned to give myself some grace… I have learned that it’s okay to feel what I feel… It’s okay to grieve the fact that my heart is broken because Bruce isn’t here to share any part of this anymore.

How we handle the big days can vary year to year, moment to moment. Sometimes we manage these better than other times… We’re only human, and this is a tough journey. What about you? How do you manage your big days? This journey is filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all. Honestly, none of us ever know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, (one holiday to the next), when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger, and that can make this journey feel so completely baffling and hard to navigate.

Thankfully, I know I am not alone. We are here for each other and, 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… Telling Our Story

“You have to tell your story, so people are aware and see the value you know to be real.”
~ Unknown

When Bruce was alive, we wrote a lot of notes, letters, and cards back and forth to each other. At least once a month he would turn to me and tell me that I should write our story… And that he couldn’t wait to read it. I used to smile, but I never took him seriously. All my life, I had been told I wasn’t much of a writer. Shoot, I had never even kept a journal… Yet, he was persistent and never gave up – suggesting it over and over.

“On my silent days, I miss you a little louder.” ~ C.C. Aurel

Then, he died, and my world went black. I don’t just mean dark… I mean black… Black like being in a cave when there are no lights… Black like not being able to see your hand in front of your face…. Black as in I had no idea how to move forward… I wasn’t even sure I could still breathe. In fact, I’m not sure I did for the first few weeks. I was raw. I was numb. I was in total shock.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t look at your picture and smile.
Or cry.
Or both.”
~ Dean Jackson

Sometime in that first month, my mom suggested that I keep a journal… Just a place to write down all my thoughts and emotions and get them out… A place to let it all go… A safe space to release everything inside that I couldn’t seem to untangle in my own mind.

That’s how it started… I just wrote…

Some of it was coherent, and some of it wasn’t. Some of it was sad, and some of it was very angry. I wrote things I wouldn’t (or couldn’t) tell anyone (and probably still wouldn’t). Sometimes I go back and read a page or two of those early journals, but I can only manage a page or two… The pain on those pages is more than I can bear to think about (even now) … But it is a good reminder of just how far I have come since then.

“Some days I just sit and remember.” ~ Unknown

After many months, my journal became a place to share the things I was discovering about myself and/or my faith. It was also a place where I listed the things I was grateful for each day. Some days I was thankful for so many things, and other days, I might have just been thankful for being able to get out of bed to face another day. (That exercise became a great way to pull myself back out of a pity-party before I fell too far down into the deeper depression of grief.)

“Suddenly, she realized that what she was regretting was not the lost past, but the lost future, not what had not been, but what would never be.” ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

I’m not sure when it became a place to write daily letters to Bruce, but somewhere in that first year, that is exactly what happened. It was like a “Dear Diary”, only instead it was a “Hey Babe”. I knew he would never see them, but somehow it made me feel better to write it that way… I still do. Sometimes I share my day. Other times, I share my emotions or something I have learned. Sometimes I share a poem I read (or wrote) or sometimes it is a quote or a verse that touches my heart… Whatever is rattling around in my brain is what flows from my pen.

It helps… a lot… I think it has become my best (and cheapest) therapy yet!

A couple of years after Bruce died, a childhood friend came into town for a visit. I wish I could say it was a great visit, but honestly, it just wasn’t. However, I believe one good thing did come of it… This friend suggested I start a blog about grief – some place to share my and Bruce’s story… some place to share my experiences and feelings with other widows… Some place to let them (and me) know that none of us are alone. Our feelings and thoughts are normal (if there even is such a thing) for our situation.

Over the years, I have told my and Bruce’s story many times. I have also written about my fears, my joys, my frustrations, and my celebrations. This has been the space where I have chosen to share things I haven’t said in any other space. Why? Because this has become my safe space… A space I share with the people who understand where I am and how I got here. People who understand that while grief can make somethings clearer, it can just as easily skew our thinking… And they don’t judge me for it.

Thank you! Thank you for allowing me this privilege to share not only my thoughts but our story – mine… and Bruce’s… A story that has value for me… I know he may never get to read it, but I hope somewhere… somehow… he knows I have written it… I am still writing it… Just like he suggested so many years ago.

“I have to let go of having you by my side. Holding your hand, talking face to face. But I will never let go of loving you, remembering you, honoring you and missing you.” ~ Unknown

I miss Bruce, and I love telling his stories. He changed my world and continues to do so… even now. I know, it can be easy to feel like this journey is nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. Yet, our love for those we have lost is something we all share. Sharing our stories is 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, and 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… No!

This week I was reading an article about grief and loss written by Pastor John Pavlovitz. In the article, he talks about that moment when a person realizes they have lost someone they love, and that one word which seems to always emanate from their lips – “No.” Such a simple word, but the meaning, in such a time as grief, speaks volumes.

I remember the night Bruce died, and realizing the responsibility of calling everyone to tell them what had just happened fell to me. There was no one else to do it… I was alone. I had never done anything like this before. when I called, I didn’t even think to ask people if there was anyone else around. It didn’t even dawn on me. (Thankfully, there usually was.) Of all the calls I made that night, though, there are a few calls that still stand out in my mind.

One of the first calls was Bruce’s parents. I remember talking to his mother, and I think I will forever hear the echo of her horrified “No” when I told her the news. It was awful, and it encompassed everything I was trying to deny.

The calls to my two daughters who were closest to Bruce were made shortly afterward with pretty much the same reaction. It wasn’t just a quiet “no” of disbelief for my sake; it was a “no” for what it meant to them, as well… For a loss that felt like more than they could bear.

Talking to Bruce’s daughter was another call that still stands out in my head. We had been playing “phone tag” for almost 24 hours, before we finally connected. By that time, she knew something was up, but I don’t think she had the slightest idea what I was about to say. The shock and anguish in her voice broke my heart all over again.

Don’t get me wrong, I am pretty sure that almost every person I called that night responded with that same word, whether it was for me or them or both. However, those first few weeks are such a blur that these are the voices that still haunt in my dreams.

Yet here is the strange part…

From what I remember, “no” was not my response when the doctor told me the news at the hospital. Not that I wasn’t completely devastated… I was. I just wasn’t surprised. I knew before the ambulance ever left the house… I had witnessed his last breath. I had started the CPR. I had watched as the EMTs did everything they could, while the heart monitor line stayed flat. I sat and waited with the ambulance as we all waited for a police officer to arrive and take me – following the ambulance, rather than racing to the hospital… Plus, there were no sirens when we did finally make that trip. So, I knew… I didn’t want to know, but I did.

So, when the doctor came in to confirm what I already knew, I don’t remember saying anything except to ask if I could be with him for a while. Then, I stayed by his side until the Medical Examiner’s office came to get him – stroking his face and hair, touching his hands one more time… Actually, I think I was waiting for him to open his eyes and smile at me… Because, honestly, I knew he was gone, but I hadn’t accepted it or processed it.

That acceptance took weeks… I remember that it hit me about the time I brought his ashes home. I do remember the “NO!” at that point. I remember wailing in the middle of the floor in our living room. Looking around at our home… our world… and refusing to accept the reality that had been dealt. Knowing without a doubt that I could not move forward with him by my side. The horror of that moment in time will always be etched into my soul. I remember begging Bruce to come back… begging God to let him back… To let me wake up from this God-awful nightmare.

At the same time, I also remember feeling his presence next to me and a quiet voice in my soul saying that he would be by my side for as long as I needed him. In the beginning, I hung onto that promise like it was oxygen. Through the years, I have felt him less and less. I am guessing maybe I am adjusting, and (maybe) need his constant presence less than I did. However, there are a lot of days (several lately) where I have reminded him of his promise and let him know I need him… still… And when I have the privacy, I still sit in the middle of the floor, and cry “no!”

“No” for him… “No” for me… “No” for us… Just “no!”

Having been through more trauma than I would want to remember, I can honestly say that grief has been the most challenging journey I have experienced – maybe because it breaks you down to the roots of your soul. Sometimes I believe, we feel like this journey is nothing more than a very lonely path, especially since it is so different for each of us. However, our love for those we have lost is something we all share.

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.

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… Things I Miss…

Throughout this season the memories seem to come fast and furious. Each tradition… each decoration holds a memory. While at the same time, we are busy creating new ones. I become nostalgic when those memories are from my own childhood. My kids and I often find ourselves laughing at some of the memories from their childhood. When the memories involve Bruce, I find myself missing him and wishing he were here. And the funny thing is most of the time these are all happening at once.

For example,…

I can remember my grandfather stuffing everyone into his car and driving us downtown to see all the lights. When my kids were little, I kept this tradition… Every Christmas Eve, I loaded all the kids into the car, and off we went to see the neighborhood lights. When Bruce and I got married, he knew right away how much I love Christmas lights. (Mainly because I don’t hide it very well.) I remember how excited he was that first year when he continued the tradition and took me to one of those huge drive-through light displays. In fact, we went every year, even when we moved here to Florida.

To this day, that is still one of my favorite traditions… In fact, the other day on our way home from dinner, my daughter took a short detour. Suddenly, there we were driving around looking at lights. It was wonderful… and at the same time, I just kept wishing Bruce were there, too…

Decorating the tree is another one… As a kid, I used to love decorating the tree. My parents always waited until mid-December, and by that time, my excitement level was over the top. With my own kids, we always bought our tree the weekend after Thanksgiving, and started decorating it right away. Each of the kids had their own “special” decorations that they loved to put on the tree, so it was a process… But it was a fun process.

When Bruce and I got married, he added another tradition… We didn’t just buy a tree. According to his family tradition, we went to a tree farm where the youngest child picked the tree. That first year it was my youngest who got to do honors. Then, Bruce laid on his belly in the snow and cut it down. (Just thinking about that day, makes my heart warm.)

Eventually, it was just the two of us, so we changed it up a bit. Since we had met at Christmas time in the tropics, we decided to change out the fir tree for a palm tree. This new tradition was original, and it was perfectly “us.” Every year, even since he died, that palm tree has been strung up with lights… And it makes me smile.

Now, there a is child in the house again. So, we are back to the huge fir tree with all the decorations from when my kids were little, plus all the new ones collected through the last few years. It is overloaded, and it is beautiful. I love how it smells. I love the lights. I love the decorations and the stories they hold. I love all of it… and at the same time, I just keep wishing Bruce were here to love it, too…

Then, there is the music… I love Christmas music! I have sung in choirs since I was about three years old, and Christmas time always meant special songs and special performances… As a child, I loved the white robes with the huge red bows, as much as the Nativity costumes where I inevitably was dressed as an angel complete with halo and wings.

As an adult, I also directed choirs, so there was a whole new excitement and preparation for the season. (Actually, I think I just enjoyed the excuse to start listening and singing Christmas music much earlier than would otherwise be acceptable.) Either way, through the years, Christmas became synonymous with Christmas music – there was never one without the other. Christmas always meant rehearsals and concerts… Music seemed to fill every extra minute (if there even is such a thing) during this season.

After Bruce and I were married, even he learned to love the Christmas music… His favorites were the Charlie Brown Soundtrack and the John Denver and Muppets Christmas Album. I used to love coming home to find one of those playing on the stereo, and him humming along as he cooked… It was simply perfect!

After he died, I stopped singing… I just couldn’t do it anymore. It took a couple of years before I could sing again… And it was Christmas music that re-ignited my heart and my voice. For the first few years, I hadn’t been able to even listen to it. Then one year, as I was driving, John Denver and the Muppets singing The Twelve Days of Christmas came on the radio. Without even thinking about it, I found myself singing along… and smiling. It seemed that while I had lost my passion to sing when he died, somehow, here he was giving that gift back to me years later.

This year, I am simply humming… Due damage to my vocal folds from the radiation treatments years ago, I can no longer sing. I can hum though! So, even now, Christmas music is playing just about 24/7… and I am humming along with every song, while my grandson, (who now knows all the words), sings along. I love it! It makes me smile all day long… and at the same time, I just keep wishing Bruce were here, too…

I love this season. I love everything about it…. I simply wish Bruce were here to share it… Just one more time… Just one more season… Because that is what I miss most – sharing all the things I love about this season with him.

This can be a hard, confusing, emotional season when you are experiencing deep grief. Grief changes how we look at life and the world around us. It changes how we experience the holidays. This can make it hard to celebrate and even harder to be joyful. Yet, it is in remembering and finding those blessings that we are able to celebrate at all.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. What are the things you miss most about the way you shared this season with your loved one? Have you had to make any changes in order to navigate this season? How do you manage those? We would love to hear your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Those Quiet Moments That Meant a Lot

There are so many things I remember about Bruce that make me smile… So many gestures that I still miss. In fact, each time I think about them, they still warm my heart. This week there has been one particular gesture – one thing he always did – that I have missed like crazy…

Let me start by saying we had a great marriage. I was a second marriage for both of us. (Bruce always laughed and said that the first time was just practice. LOL!) I like to believe that because we were older when we married, we were a little more laid back… more patient… less inclined to argue about things that just didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Neither of us expected the other to change or be a certain way… We just loved and accepted each other “as is.” Now, that doesn’t mean, we never argued or disagreed. Of course, we did! That’s normal when you live someone… As they say, if you both agree ALL the time, there is no need for one of you.

This was a concept that I struggled with in the beginning, though…

My first marriage had been such a dysfunctional mess, and that was all I knew. In that first marriage, when we argued, it was likely to either end in an explosive, physical display of my ex-husband’s temper or he would completely shun me for weeks and sometimes months. (The worst part being his expectation that the children do the same when he was around or risk being on the receiving end of that same temper.)

So… When Bruce and I had our first few disagreements, I didn’t know how to respond. I knew he was a completely different man, but I still automatically panicked – worried that things might be the same with Bruce. It was a mindset that had formed over 20+ years, and it was hard to change. I can’t tell you what those early disagreements were about, because I really don’t remember. We were two people learning to live together, and there were bound to be a few bumps in that road.

Of our first disagreement, all I can remember is me sitting down on his recliner and crying – unsure how or if I should express my thoughts to him. The next thing I knew, Bruce was kneeling on the floor in front of me. He took my hands in his and leaned forward until his forehead touched mine. Then, we sat like that for quite a while until I could manage to stop crying. Then, in his ever-gentle voice, Bruce said, “We are going to disagree sometimes, and it’s okay… It doesn’t change our love for each other. It’s just a sign that we need to talk about something and figure out how we got here.”

The second time it happened, I still wasn’t secure enough to express myself. Instead, I went to our room to cry. After a few moments, Bruce followed me in. Once again, he took my hands in his and leaned his forehead to mine. As we stood there, forehead to forehead, I finally managed the courage to say, “This is hard… I didn’t know it would be this hard.” He didn’t move, but I could feel him smile… another gesture that reassured me that it was okay to say what I thought.

Through the years, we had our disagreements, and every time the conversation afterward always started with Bruce taking my hands and leaning in until we were forehead to forehead… a gesture that almost instantly calmed my heart. In fact, over time, he used that same gesture whenever I was upset or anxious about anything (not just when I was upset about us). It was like magic… It was as if by touching me in that way, all the calm reassurance in heart and mind was transferred to me…

And, I miss that…

These last few weeks, with everything happening around us in this crazy world, I have felt so anxious. Between political issues (that desperately need to be addressed) to other issues being made into political issues (which are in no way political at all), I have felt quite overwhelmed at times. There are days when I read the headlines and can’t believe we are where we are. Then, there are other days when I am too anxious to even look at the headlines…

What I wouldn’t give to have on of those moments again… For Bruce to take my hands in his and lean in until we are forehead to forehead… So many times, these past few weeks, to get through a “moment,” I have just closed my eyes and remembered… It is almost as if I can feel him take my hands… I can feel him touch his forehead to mine. Then, I stay completely still… taking in the moment… reliving the memories of those gestures… Until once again, my heart is calm. Then, I can open my eyes, take stock of my reality, and move forward…

And in my heart, I whisper, “Thank you, Babe! Thank you for teaching me that there is magic and power that comes from a loving touch in a still, quiet moment.”

This grief journey can be a hard one, and it is different for everyone… The many ways we experience it are as diverse as we are. We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… We are all different, and just doing the best we can in a world that can feel overwhelming at times. What about you? Are there memories that help you get through the tough days? Would you like to share your story or ask a question? Do 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… Makin’ It Through the Holidays

“I miss you” … I think this has been my mantra for the past couple of weeks. Don’t misunderstand – I have smiled and laughed. I have enjoyed my time with my kids. I have loved cooking and decorating and shopping and playing Christmas music… I have loved all of it… But… I miss him…

With every dish I cook, I think about whether or not it was one he liked, and how many times we debated whether or not the sweet potato casserole with brown sugar and pecans on top counted as a vegetable (me) or a dessert (him). We never agreed but laughed every time!

With every ornament, I am reminded of our first Christmas together when he pulled out his one box of decorations… and I pulled out 18 boxes. Our tiny little condo was over-stuffed with Christmas. I thought he wouldn’t like it, but instead he grinned from ear to ear and said it truly felt like Christmas for the first time in a very long time.

With every shopping trip, I find myself looking for him and thinking about the gifts we gave each other over the years. There were years when we gave each other “traveling adventures” to new places… And other years when we were content to just have the gift of being together.

And… With every Christmas song played… I either laugh and sing because he loved the music as much as I did (or he pretended to) … or I cry, because each song seems to remind me of him and of some precious memory together.

And to be honest… all of this reminds me that another year has passed… He is still gone… And once again, I am spending another Christmas without him…

So, what do I do? … Well, for the last few days, I have cried… a lot. I seem to wake up crying. Then, I cry in the shower. I cry as I drive to and from work. And I cry when I crawl into bed at night.

I know it seems ridiculous… Emotionally, I have really come so far (or so I thought). But everywhere I look, I see and experience things that I want to share with Bruce… But he isn’t here… And so, I am reminded over and over again that he is gone… and I am alone.

To add to all this, there have been several conversations around me lately that have caught me a little off guard. There was one conversation amongst my friends, where they were discussing what they would do if their spouse died. Would they remarry? Would they date? How would they live their lives? Each of them with a firm opinion.

Now, first of all, this conversation was not about me in any way. It started as a conversation about someone else’s loss. But they went on and on for (what felt like) quite a while, talking about what they would do… or not do. I listened but didn’t add anything.

What could I say? None of them knew me when I was married to Bruce so many years ago, and they were completely oblivious to the fact that I had (and was still) dealing with this exact scenario.

Truthfully, I wasn’t offended, and I did contemplate saying something… I wanted to tell them that no one has any idea how they will respond to the loss of a spouse until it actually happens to them. However, I didn’t… for a few reasons.

First, it would have fallen on deaf ears. After all, most of us are pretty sure we know how we would respond to someone else’s circumstances. It is normal, and as many times as we learn the lesson that this is wrong, we all still seem to do it.

Second, it would have created a very awkward, sudden stop to the conversation. I experienced a lot of this during the first few years after Bruce died. I couldn’t seem to control my mouth and would throw my two cents worth into these conversations. I’ll just say that I found it does some damage… It creates a wall, and just isn’t worth it, not in my book anyway….

And finally… Who am I to judge or correct? After all, before Bruce died, I thought many of the same things they were saying.

So, I sat and half-listened… I felt a little bit rude, but I couldn’t fully engage, because I was struggling to control my emotions… They wanted to say what they thought, and I needed to control what I knew.

There have been several of these types of conversations lately, and I could go on and on explaining each one. But why? They all carry a similar theme – people contemplating how they would live their life as a widow(er) – a topic which they really know nothing about… So, what do I do?

Well there are two sides to this… One is the quick – let it go… Which I have learned to do a lot of over the years. After all, contemplating what you would do in a situation you have never encountered is just human nature. What do I know? I only know what I have done, not what anyone else might do.

“Learn to be okay with people not knowing your side of the story.
You have nothing to prove to anyone.”
~ Unknown

And the other part of the answer came this week in the form of a 10-year-old boy – my grandson…

As we were driving home earlier this week, he was telling me about his day at school and all the 4th grade “news of the day.” At one point, it dawned on me… He had originally said it was a great day, but in his tales, he was really focusing on a lot of negatives.

At one point, he even said, “Do you know what really bugs me? It’s when someone…” And he went on in great detail about what bugs him.

“Did that happen to you today?” I asked. “Did someone do that to you?”

“No,” he said, “but I hate it when it does happen.”

“Well, baby,” I said, “It sounds like you are looking for things to be upset about. Everything you have shared is negative… It sounds like you are focusing on the wrong things.”

Then it dawned on me… So am I… For the past few weeks, consciously or not, I have been focusing on all sad things – all the things I am doing without Bruce.

Last year, I was so happy to be alive… I missed Bruce, but I was so happy to be with my family and to be healthy again, that was my focus. But this year I have somehow fallen into the old trap of focusing on what is missing and what was… not on all the blessing and what is. While I would like to deny it, I have looked for things to be offended about in conversations, rather than chalking it up to human nature and not knowing any better… and then letting it go.

Now what? well… I am resolved to take my own advice. My goal is to look for the blessings and to see the joy in each day… Yes, Bruce is gone, and it’s okay to grieve that. But I am still here… surrounded by family and friends who love me… Maybe it’s a good thing that they just see me as me (not as the perpetual widow), and they love me and support me just for being me…
I am blessed beyond words, and this is a season of joy… and that is to be my focus going forward this season.

What about you? Does any of this strike a chord with you? How do you handle the holidays? Do you find memories around every corner? Do you struggle to focus on the positives around you, too? Maybe you have found a different way to cope… 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Celebrating Our Anniversary

This week held our anniversary. Rather than writing something new, I think the best words to describe how I feel are the ones I wrote to Bruce…

Hi Babe!

Happy Anniversary! Fourteen years… Wow! Today marks the date when I have celebrated just as many anniversaries alone as we did together… That feels really strange… I can’t even wrap my head around it.

Yesterday I woke up crying and had to fight the tears all day. Everything seemed to remind me of you, and the idea of celebrating alone… again… was just too much for this heart to bear. Plus, the weather has matched my mood – dark clouds and overcast all day yesterday and rain all night. This morning there has been a lot of dark clouds and drizzle with small breaks of sunshine… just like the way I am feeling – sad and crying, yet, so joyful to have experienced our love and wanting to celebrate that.

I went for a walk on the beach where your ashes were scattered, just to talk to you for a while. (Now, I am just sitting out here writing to you.) Sometimes it feels like you are right here beside me… I would swear I can hear you and almost feel your touch. But then, I look around, and I am all alone. Today, there is absolutely no one else out here… Just you and I. I suppose it is because of the weather, but it’s nice to be just the two of us.

The ocean is so wild today. There are so many waves, and they are crashing in on themselves in a fury… Maybe that is just a little bit of what I am feeling too.

I keep thinking of so many memories of us here on this beach… So many Sundays spent holding hands and watching the waves for hours. There was a magic here for us, that still lingers… I miss that… I miss you!

Sometimes I wonder if this “missing you” will ever stop. I wonder if my life will ever feel whole again. Or if I will always feel like the rudder is missing, and I am just drifting.

I truly can’t believe it’s been fourteen years since we were married. I’ll always remember that day… How nervous we both were to be doing this marriage thing again – something we had both sworn we would never do again. I remember the night before… I was terrified! I kept thinking about my first marriage – all the chaos and abuse… and how I had lost myself somewhere in the struggle to keep peace and just survive. The idea that it could happen again was terrifying!

I remember you holding me close and telling me we didn’t to get married… We could just be together… You told me that you loved me and that was that. We didn’t need a piece of paper or anyone else’s approval for that. Looking back, I think that was all I needed to hear – a reassurance that it was a choice, and you would always love me… either way.

I remember every moment of the next day. Going to the town where you grew up to eat lunch, buying our wedding champagne flutes to toast our big day, setting up for a mini-reception at the condo, getting dressed, going to the courthouse waiting what felt like forever for our turn with the judge, your Dad joking with us and trying to ease our nerves, our families being there to support us, and… the actual ceremony.

I remember holding your hands and looking into your eyes the entire time. (It was as if no one else were even there… Just the two of us in that moment.) You held my gaze and filled my heart with peace knowing this was right… That feeling has never left me.

Marrying you was the best decision I ever made, and I will celebrate this day for the rest of my life!

I love you, Babe – Always and Forever!
Me

What about you? How do you handle those special days of the year? Do you celebrate? Do you cry? Do you have mixed emotions? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts? 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… Trying to Build a Better Boat

This year is different.
I can’t explain it.
My heart is still shattered.
The tears are still falling.
But this year,
I just want to remember…
I want to look at photographs
And gaze deep in your eyes.
I want to remember
The laughter
And the gentle moments when you held me
And whispered, “I love you.”
I want to close my eyes
And go back to that first hello…
That first kiss.
This year there seems no need for ceremonies…
Just time alone…
With you…
~ Linda, January 2019

Well, I did it… I survived this week… one of the hardest weeks on the calendar for me. This week held the anniversary of Bruce’s death. Only one moment in time, but a moment that changed my life forever.

The first year, I wasn’t sure what to do. My sister had the foresight to know I shouldn’t be alone, and lovingly came and spent the weekend with me. We didn’t really do anything formal – a trip to the beach and a crab dinner (one of Bruce’s favorites).

The following year, I knew I wanted… no, needed… to do something different… something more. We made Tibetan prayer flags for the garden, as well as baskets filled with flowers, incense and charms to represent special things about Bruce to place in the ocean. I even wrote a letter to Bruce to place in the basket. Two of my daughters were able to come join me, and we headed to the ocean for a special ceremony of sorts. Plus, toasts at all his favorite fishing spots and meals at all his favorite restaurants. And to finish the night – a little Jimmy Buffet to sooth the soul.

This tradition I kept up for several years. Then last year, I decided to change it up just a little… First, the prayer flags were in such good condition, there was no need to make new ones. I also decided I wanted to travel… Traveling was how we met and what we loved to do, so I decided to make that a new part of the tradition. So, off I went to another beach south of here. It was a lovely weekend. I still brought flowers and beer to the beach. I still wrote him a letter. I still ate at places I believed he would have loved, and I still finished the night dancing to Jimmy Buffet.

This year, though, things are very different. Perhaps it’s a result of spending the last year fighting to survive, but as I wrote a couple of weeks ago, I have felt very different in my grief these past few months. I don’t really know how to explain it… I still miss him. However, so much of the time before the cancer diagnosis, I just felt like I was going through the motions of life. Whereas now, I actually feel enthusiastic about living my life.

In fact, have you heard Kenny Chesney’s new song, Better Boat? I love it! In fact, I relate to it so much, it has become my mantra song over the last few months… It just seems to truly describe where I find myself emotionally…

… My how the last few months have changed

I’m smilin’ more despite the pain…
I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
If it’s working I don’t know
When I get done the thing may not float
But I’m learning how to build a better boat
~ Songwriters: Travis Meadows, Liz Rose

So that’s me lately… Just constantly trying to “build a better boat.” In fact, that’s where I found myself this week… I knew I would be sad, and I knew there would be tears, but I also knew I needed something different… Something more quiet and less formal. I also knew I knew I wanted to be in “our” home this year… No traveling – I’ve spent enough time away from my family and traveling for treatments this last year. So, when I woke up that morning, I still had no idea… I was going to play it by ear… And here’s how it played out…

My journal:
January 2019 – noon
“Hi Babe!
Well, maybe I should be but I’m not so mad today… Sad – yes… Missing you – definitely… Wishing you were here and knowing you would love this time together today – you bet!

I didn’t (couldn’t) go to our beach today. It’s still closed due to the government shutdown. All week I’ve been hoping it would open, but no… Anyway, I drove up to Daytona instead. The beach ramp for cars is closed (high tide), but that’s okay. It’s kinda cold anyway, so I’m sitting inside the pier restaurant (Crabby Joe’s). You used to love this place! I’m at one of the high-tops overlooking the water, which is beautiful today. I can even feel the waves rocking the pier. And if I close my eyes, I would swear I can feel you right beside me… Because that is where you always sat… Never across from me – always beside me with one hand on my leg or holding my hand… I miss that….

You would love this today! I know you would be all about this place and simply spending time together.

It’s weird – maybe good – but this year is so different. In the past, I had (no – needed) a “ceremony” for today… But this year, that didn’t feel right. It was right at the time, but this year, I just wanted to enjoy the day and remember you… remember us.

The memories are flooding in. I can feel the tears in my eyes and a few have fallen, but mostly the memories make me smile. I love remembering… I love giving my “permission” – perhaps selfishly – to simply spend today focusing on you and us…

5 pm
As I sit here, all I can think about is how blessed I have been. Yes – there have been hard times… even some really sucky times… But through it all, I have survived… I have come out on top knowing I have experienced great love… your love…

9 pm
I have thought about you so much today… So many memories… So much love. I’ll never understand why… I’ll never know what life would be like if we could have lived out our dreams together… I just know my heart is still shattered… I love you. I will always love you… And I have been blessed to have known a love like ours…”

I ain’t lonely, but I spend a lot of time alone
More than I’d like to, but I’m okay with staying home
My how the last few months have changed
I’m smilin’ more despite the pain

I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
I’m learning how to build a better boat

I hate waiting, ain’t no patience in these hands
I’m not complaining, sometimes it’s hard to change a man
I think I’m stronger than I was,
I let God do what he does

I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
Around the waves I can’t control
I’m learning how to build a better boat

I breathe in, I breathe out
Got friends to call who let me talk about
What ain’t working, what’s still hurtin’
All the things I feel like cussing out
Now and then I let it go
I ride the waves I can’t control
If it’s working I don’t know
When I get done the thing may not float
But I’m learning how to build a better boat
~ Songwriters: Travis Meadows, Liz Rose

What about you? How do honor your loved one’s memory? Does it change year to year? Or are there certain traditions you incorporate each year? What do you do to remember? Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

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

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

Peace, Love and Grief… My Biggest Fear

This week marks the anniversary of mine and Bruce’s last week together… And to make it even more real, the dates line up to the day of the week exactly as they did that same week six years ago. When I woke up this morning, I found myself trying to remember every moment of that week. It was such precious time, and we had no idea what lay just a few short days away.

The trouble is the distance between that week and this one… and my own memory…

When Bruce died, and this journey began, I was terrified. There were so much hurt and so many unknowns. How in the world was I supposed to learn to navigate this path on my own?… Well, time has passed, and thankfully, with each passing day, I learn a little bit more.

But there is one fear, I can’t seem to shake. In fact, as time goes on, it seems to be my biggest fear… It is the fear of forgetting.

From the moment he died, I swore that as long as I had breath in my lungs, his memory would stay alive. I refused to forget him, or to let the world forget he had been here, too. Perhaps that is a part of my reasoning for writing this blog… I know it is why I keep a journal.

It is the reason we write down our Christmas memories with Bruce and slip them into his stocking, (which I still hang next my own). And why his pictures still grace the shelves throughout our home. It is why I still wear his jacket on chilly nights and smile whenever I see his favorite beer on a menu or a store shelf.

These last few months, I have even begun to recognize some of my own healing as I find myself looking at pictures and (rather than crying), I can beam with delight at the memories involved. These things (and many more) are what I choose to do to keep Bruce’s memory and legacy alive… It is my way of expressing the love I still feel for him.

But…

There have also been some changes over the last few months which is fueling my biggest fear… The fear of forgetting… And the cancer treatments of this past year don’t help this situation at all. (Allow me to confirm that “chemo-brain” is a very real and very frustrating thing.)

So how does that play out?

Well, I struggle to remember what his voice sounded like. I have two videos of Bruce – one is silent and in the other, he only says one word, … “almost” and he laughs. I find myself watching it over and over just to hear that one word… just to hear the joy in his laughter and see the smile on his face.

I struggle to remember what his arms felt like and how it felt to lay in them… To remember the comfort and security I always found there. While I have gotten stronger and more self-reliant this year, deep down I miss the strength I found in those arms, and I am frustrated as I struggle to recall how that felt.

I also struggle to remember what it felt like to hold his hand… His hands were so much bigger than my own. I can remember we rarely interlaced our fingers because it would hurt my hands. Instead, he would hold my hands like a child’s and ever so gently rub the back of my hand with his thumb.

I want to remember the exact color of his eyes and the way they wrinkled when he smiled… Or to remember the things that made him smile… I want to remember how his eyes twinkled when he was up to no good and how it sounded when he said, “I love you.”

I want to remember all of it… But between the cancer treatments and growing older, that seems to be getting harder and harder. I am terrified I am forgetting… And that makes me even more sad.

Normally in the past, I would spend a lot of time this week at “our” beach where his ashes were spread off shore. I would sit there for hours… remembering… writing… and just talking to him. But this year, due to this government shut-down, that is not an option. Our beach is closed, and I can’t even get close to that space which is so precious to me.

I’m not sure how I will spend this week, or how to overcome this fear… All I know is this is my biggest fear, and it seems to be coming true…

But one thing I will always remember – I love him… And I will always love him…

“’I miss him every single day,’ I said… ‘It’s gotten to the point where I can’t hear his voice anymore and I’m so afraid I won’t remember what he sounded like when he’d say, ‘I love you.’ And I don’t ever want to forget.’” ~ Donna VanLiere, The Christmas Hope

What about you? What is your biggest fear? Do you ever struggle with forgetting? Am I alone on this one? Would you like to share your thoughts or ideas on how you deal with your fears? Or what you do to remember? Would you be willing to share your story or thoughts? To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

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

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

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