Tag: miss

Peace, Love and Grief… What I miss

I smile when I remember you…even through my tears.

~ Linda, October 17, 2013

For the most part, I function in a positive zone… most days, I am okay. I can smile and laugh and live in the moment. However, I still have days where the grief and sadness are dominant… The past few days have been that way. I just feel sad. Plain and simple, I miss Bruce… I miss so many things about my life with him.

This isn’t the same as a pity party… I’m not caught up in feeling sorry for myself. I am accepting of my reality… I am just sad. I don’t know how to explain it, but there’s a difference. I guess the best I can do is to say there is no “poor me” factor involved. I just miss him.

When you lose your partner, you lose more than just a person. That person filled so many roles… so many spaces in your life. I miss all those things. I always say that Bruce was my hero… and he was. He was also my best friend, my rock and my anchor… He brought stability to my life. I have spent most my adulthood going from one crisis to the next, but not with Bruce. Life took on a peace and fullness that I miss as well.

There wasn’t a lot that bothered or irked him. He was a firm believer in letting go and moving forward. I miss that optimism and strength… The idea that whatever had occurred would be okay because of what still lay ahead.

While I am getting used to going places alone, I still hate it. When I’m out with a group, I feel like an extra wheel… that friend that no one quite knows what to do with. I miss going places with him – side by side… always together. I miss sharing those places and experiences with each other.

I miss going out to eat together. We always sat on the same side of the table so we could still hold hands (or snuggle if it was a booth). (Yea – that probably sounds goofy but I loved it!) I miss that he would always order an appetizer while I ordered a full meal. Then when I got full (which was pretty quick), he would finish off mine… always letting me pick what I wanted, then  laughing as I pushed my plate toward him after only a few bites.

I miss going to the beach together. We didn’t even talk that much… We both enjoyed the silence as we sat next to each other holding hands and watching the waves or snoozing.

I miss cooking together. There was something fun and romantic about sharing a space that is really meant for one. I also miss the days when one of us cooked (usually him) and the other (usually me) sat at the counter – watching and talking.

I miss snuggling on the couch after dinner – either in silence or watching TV. It didn’t really matter. Just being together, breathing each other in, was the best part of those moments.

I miss those days when he got home first and would greet me at the door with a glass of wine. OR when I was on the phone with someone and getting stressed, silently, he would come with a grin and a glass of wine.

I miss playing games and knowing that he would never just let me win. He might play sports left handed to give me better chance (LOL!) but he was just as competitive as I am. Whoever won had definite bragging rights for days.

I miss having someone who loves me even when I am wrong. Knowing someone has your back, no matter what, is amazing! Whenever I was frustrated with myself, Bruce would just take me in his arms and hold me. He never reiterated my mistakes… I was already well aware of whatever I had done. I just needed to know that someone still loved me… and that it was him. He never left me doubting his love. It was always there…

Now I do all of these things alone… with only memories to fill the space next to me.

Countless research has shown that in a healthy marriage/partnership the partners put each other first… over children, over other family, over careers… over everything else out there. You are each other’s priority. I miss that… I miss having and being a priority.

Don’t get me wrong, I am loved. I know that without a doubt. But I am not (nor should I be) first on anyone’s list. The other side of that is I no longer have that special person in my life to take care of, either. (That is a tough reality.) Without Bruce, I only have me looking out for me… that feels really strange and really wrong.

I have a friend who lost his wife a few months before I lost Bruce. I remember asking him how he was doing one day and he responded, “You miss the little things… that’s where the relationship and the love came from.” My experience says he was right.

I don’t think there is an answer for any of this… it is what it is.

This is my journey. Some days the road is smooth and the sun shines… other days the road is hard and I can’t see the sun. The only thing I know to do is breathe and take it one step at a time… allowing myself to feel what I feel – knowing that a better day is ahead… somewhere.

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… Growing accustomed to the loneliness

There is a song from the musical, My Fair Lady** that goes like this:

I’ve grown accustomed to her face
She almost makes the day begin
I’ve grown accustomed to the tune
That she whistles night and noon
Her smiles, her frowns
Her ups, her downs
Are second nature to me now
Like breathing out, breathing in
I was serenely independent and content before we met
Surely I could always be that way again and yet
I’ve grown accustomed to her looks
Accustomed to her voice
Accustomed to her face**

Well, change the “She’s” and “Her’s” to “He’s” and “His” and that seems to be my dilemma. Bruce seems to always be in my thoughts… always a part of of me. In so many ways that is comforting, but it also creates a loneliness that I can’t seem to shake – no matter how hard I try to pretend it isn’t there.

I’ve spent the past 4 weeks with family. It has been craziness and chaos compared to my “normal” life… in other words, it has been wonderful! Don’t misunderstand, even with the commotion of a 5 year old boy (“Almost six, GG!”), I have had my moments of loneliness and grief. The difference is the fun and love-filled distractions that I have felt.

This week, though, it was time for them to go home… now it is quiet… overwhelmingly quiet… deafening quiet… a quiet that is completely filled with loneliness. It is a time of readjusting (again) to my “new normal.”
Only it’s not so new… why do I still feel so lonely. I’ve always been one to cherish my “alone time”… It’s where I regroup and gather my energy. But this is different… There is no choice in this and there is no end. It is what will always be.

Have you ever driven through Kansas? It doesn’t matter what road you are on, it all looks the same. It goes on and on… and on – no turns; no change in scenery. That is what this loneliness feels like… no matter how far down the road I look, it is the same… there appears to be no hope for anything different.

Today my eyes kept leaking… I was determined not to cry but the tears were just as determined to find their way down my cheeks. I just miss him.

I miss his smile and the way his eyes literally sparkled whenever he was happy. I miss just laying in his arms, looking into his eyes and talking. I miss watching him BBQ on the porch in his barefeet while dancing. I miss his kisses to start each morning and his hugs at the end of a rough day. I miss holding hands in the car and while we watched TV. I miss cooking together on Sunday nights and feeding each other as we worked together. I miss it all… all those little things that you grow accustomed to… All those things that are no more… All those things that will never be again.

Now the challenge is how to grow accustomed to this loneliness. It has been 2.5 years. Most people just assume I am “over it.” Only my closest friends and my kids can tell when it is a rough day. The rest of the world has done what it should – it has moved on… why can’t I?

Why do I still want him to be here when I walk through the door? Why (every morning) do I still look beside me in the bed to see if he is there? Does anyone ever really grow accustomed to this? Or do we just get really good at pretending? I remember my grandmother lived another 20 years after my grandfather died. Even then, she would have days where she would wear his sweater because she “needed to feel him hugging her.” I know that feeling…

This week is a struggle but unlike when Bruce first died, now I know that I will grow accustomed to this loneliness (this unending quiet) again. I know that I will smile again… I will laugh again. I will have good days and bad days… again. (Hopefully, more good ones than bad.) I have no expectations from other people at this point. That would be ridiculous… life moves on, and they all have other needs – other concerns. This is my journey… my story. I have to figure this one out.

Until then, my eyes may leak a little more than I want them to, and people may tell me I am too emotional… That’s okay. I am still moving forward… I am still making progress.

I am still growing accustomed to the loneliness…

Do you also know this feeling? Have you been where I am? 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 or just sharing an emotion can make us feel validated and bring us closer.

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.

** “I’ve Grown Accustomed To Her Face” was written by Alan Jay Lerner; Frederick Loewe