missing you – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief… A Tribute to a Friend

I spent this morning with old friends back in SC celebrating the life of a fellow teacher… But not just any teacher. This teacher was a nun that started at our school not long after I started.

I wasn’t raised Catholic, so the only experience I had with nuns before that was from watching The Sound of Music. (Silly comparison, I know.) This dear, sweet nun, though, wasn’t like anything from Hollywood. (Thankfully!) She was her own dear, sweet person, and this particular dear, sweet nun meant the world to me. She touched my soul in ways I am still realizing years later. You know, they say you will likely never know the impact you have on others… I think that is so true. While she (sadly) isn’t here to read it, I wanted to write her a letter to tell her just how much she meant (and still means) to me…

Dear Sister,

Today, so many of us who love you gathered to celebrate your life. I can’t believe you are gone from us. As much as I know about death, I think there was a part of me that childishly thought you would always be here. When I learned of your passing months ago, I felt a hole open in my heart… A hole only you can fill. I cried then… and I cried today. It is hard to believe I will never again see your sweet smile or hear you say, “My love, my dove, my beautiful one.”

I didn’t know anything about nuns when I first met you. I thought nuns were supposed to be demure and passive. You, however, showed me something totally different. You showed me that a woman can love God and still be a strong force in this world. You knew what you believed in. You knew what you expected in others. You held all of us to a higher accountability… And we wanted to be there… I know I wanted that mainly because you believed I could.

I remember when it came to the kids you had high expectations around discipline. You did not mess around, and made your expectations known with no room for doubt. I can remember when the 8th grade boys were in trouble, they would beg to be sent to anyone but you… Not because you were cruel, but because none of us ever wanted to let you down. Yet, once discipline had been handled, it was over, and you once again called them “your love, your dove, your beautiful one”. Your love for each and every child (and the rest of us) was completely unconditional, (and we all knew that – there was no doubt). No matter what transpired, you always had a smile, and a hug for each and every one of us.

I remember times when you and I disagreed… But it was okay. You stated your thoughts and opinion, but you never tried to make me concede. It was a conversation with differing opinions – nothing more. (Or maybe you tried, but I was oblivious! LOL!)

Even when our family was splitting up, you were amazing. It was a hard time for our family, because divorce is hard – even when it is the right move. Ours also carried the weight of domestic violence and (still ongoing) threats. While your views were more conservative than mine, you were still supportive to me and loving to my children.

To this day, I still find myself sharing funny stories about our days teaching together and the many nuggets of wisdom you planted for all of us. While my faith journey has taken me in other directions, my faith and belief in God is still firm and you had a lot to do with that, because you were a perfect example of God’s love here on earth.

Thank you! Thank you for all you did so many years ago, and for all the seeds you planted that have helped me through the years. You were an amazing lady and I will always consider myself blessed to have known and worked with you on a daily basis for so long (and through such a hard portion of my life).

I love you, Sister! May you rest in the peace and love of our God – the God you served and loved so completely!
_________________________________________________________
Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone… and some days, it can be just a little bit harder. I don’t think any of us wants to be on this path, 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 figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. This year has been filled to the brim with challenges, but my goal has been to learn to simply “be” – whatever that looks like in each moment.

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.

* 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… Like the Tides

The day is almost done,
And once again,
My heart is breaking.
The clock chimes –
Each stroke – a reminder of every year that has passed.
Each birthday celebrated with an empty chair,
And no one to blow out the candles.
The tears slide down my face,
And yet, I smile as I remember you…
Your laugh,
Your grin,
Your sense of humor,
But mostly,
Your love.
Happy birthday to the man
Who was my hero and my heart.
You are not forgotten…
You are missed… and still loved.
~ Linda, 2023

Happy birthday, Babe! I can’t believe another birthday has come and gone without you here… I miss you so much!

As I sit here on the beach thinking of you, it has occurred to me how the seasons of our lives come and go – like the ebb and flow of the tides… (No wonder so many poets and songwriters use that phrase.) There is no effort extended – life just happens – the good… the bad… and the in-between.

This year has already included all of that (and we are only in April!). There has been new life to celebrate and deaths to mourn. There have been times filled with love and laughter, and other times of tears and rejection… and all the stuff in the middle. You know… the normal everyday stuff that we tend to forget even though it probably fills up most of our days.

I miss sharing all of that with you… I miss laughing with you and crying with you… But mostly I miss all the in-between, normal, doing nothing with you.

Today I keep thinking about all those birthdays we spent with your folks. What a fun time! I miss that! We didn’t do a lot – the beach during the day and chilling with your folks at night… And yet, it was some of the best “doing-nothing” times that I can remember.

Then, we moved here, where the beach is practically in our backyard. (Well, not quite – but close enough!) Once we were settled, “doing-nothing” at the beach became our Sunday routine… God, how I miss that!

“Becoming still, I reflect on life-giving space to thoughts, memories, feelings, and ideas of where I have been and where I want to go.”

~ Daily Word, December 21, 2022

The thing is, I am still trying to figure out the “where I want to go” part. I am trying though, more than I ever have… I am “getting out and doing” as much as I am “staying put and not doing”. Honestly, though, I’m not too worried about any of it. After all this… if there is one thing I know, it is the fact that life has a way of placing us exactly where we need to be when we need to be there…. I just have to remain open to it… and all the possibilities.

This year has already held a lot of losses for me. I grieve what I have lost, which turns around and makes me grieve for you, too. What I wouldn’t give to feel your arms around me, reminding me that I am loved and it will all be okay.

I know, the more I sit here and write today, the more I start to feel sorry for myself, but I shouldn’t! I have been and continue to be so incredibly blessed… I have great friends. I have a wonderful family (both yours and mine) who love me, and rally around me when I need it… And you… I had you, Babe, and all the wonder and magic you brought into my life. Even now, I relish the precious memories day in and day out.

Thank you for that… and for still being my strength in one of the hardest years since you died.
I love you, Babe – now and forever!

I have been a long time on my own now.
I still hate it.
I miss your touch –
The gentle caresses that said, “I love you.”

I miss your smile and laughter –
The look in your eye that reminded me
Not to take life so seriously.

I miss your arms –
The way you held me close and
Made my fears and insecurities melt away.

I miss your friendship –
The unconditional love and acceptance you always put forward,
Which encouraged me to just be me.

In other words…
I miss you, Babe,
And I think I always will.
~ Linda, 2023

_________________________________________________________
Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. 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.

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

Peace, Love, and Grief… Father’s Day Without You

This morning I saw a friend’s post on Face Book about how today is even harder for those who are no longer able to wish their dad a Happy Father’s Day… How today is one giant reminder of all they have lost and will never have again… And my heart broke… For my friend and for all those in her shoes. Then, it dawned on me that after all these years without Bruce, I have never really thought about how today must affect the “kids” in Bruce’s life who saw him as “Dad” – not just his biological daughter, but my own kids, as well.

I know that must sound selfish on my part… I know they miss him. I know there are moments in their lives when they would give anything for him to still be here… to still be a part of their world. But to my discredit, I never really thought about how Father’s Day might affect them.

So, here I am planning out my day and deciding when the best time will be to call my dad and Bruce’s dad. At the same time, these kids that he and I love aren’t planning to call anyone, because the man they thought of “Father” is no longer here. And my heart breaks from them… and for him…

Hey Babe,
Happy Father’s Day!… Boy, do I wish you were here to actually hear those words. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I wish you were here for all of our kids… These five wonderful adults who were lucky enough to have you as their Dad… I would give anything for each of them to have the opportunity to hug and thank you for all you added to their world.

As the mother of four of these (now adult) children, I can’t thank you enough for what you added to their lives. Coming from a chaotic background where their biological father had his parental rights removed, my kids found, in you, a man who offered nothing but love… pure, unconditional love. What an amazing and precious gift!

At first you were just “mom’s boyfriend” … They were happy as long as I was happy. Then, you became my husband, and there was a small shift. They weren’t quite sure what to do with you… or where you belonged in their world. Yet, you made it simple, and took the lead by simply letting them be… and loving them for whatever that was. There were even times when they would challenge you, just to see how real that love was… Yet, you held strong. You never wavered. You never showed anything less than love and respect for all of them.

Then, after only a few short months, you became that person they trusted… that person they went to for advice. Even now, years later, they occasionally tell stories of going to you and how you always responded by guiding them – never telling them what to do. You never demanded that they listen to you or do as you said. You simply offered advice (when asked) and gave them the respect to make their own decisions.

You showed them how to be a man who loves his family above all else. You showed them what a healthy, loving father looks like. In such a short time, you filled a gap that none of us even realized needed to be filled… And once it was full, there was no going back. There was no way to stop loving you… And while they still called you by your name, they introduced and referred to you as their “Dad”… Because you were… and are… and always will be their “Dad” – the man who loved them during those tough years when they weren’t even sure how to love themselves.

I can never thank you enough for that. That was a void I could not fill. I could love them as their mother, but I couldn’t love them as a father… But you did… without any hesitation… You made it look easy as you stepped up and did what no one else could…

Thank you, Babe! Thank you for loving ALL of us! … And Happy Father’s Day!

I love you… forever and always!

———-

I say it every week… Loss is hard, and the grief we are left to figure out is even harder. But this is a journey where I am continuously learning about life, faith, and love. There have been some great life lessons on this journey, but I hate that losing Bruce is how I got here. After all, I didn’t ask to be here… I didn’t ask for any of this. As the years pass, I can honestly say that there are more good days than bad as I learn those things that seem to bring me a little bit of healing each day. Through it all, though, I still find myself wishing for a world where Bruce is here beside me. So, I will continue to allow myself the space I need to heal and process this life without him. Thankfully, at this point in my journey, I am learning that I am not alone – thanks to you!

In fact, none of us need to be alone, because we have each other. It is our love for those we have lost that brings us together into this space where we can share our experiences. I believe the sharing of our stories is so important… I believe it is healing and helps us to process that avalanche of emotions that grief brings us. Do you have a story to tell? I believe we can find courage and strength in one another’s stories. I believe we can offer each other empathy when we open our hearts to one another. I don’t know about you, but it makes me feel better knowing there are others out there who understand what I mean, and what I feel. It’s nice to know I’m not alone… Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Dear Bruce

I feel like I’m swimming in the dark.
On a moonless night, my frail arms and legs thrash about in black despair.
I can’t see where I’m going or where I’ve been.
I can’t see the danger lurking beneath the surface,
But I know it’s there.
I am terrified of losing what little independence I have left.
I grope for a glimmer of purpose to keep me afloat,
But I cannot find it.
Floundering. Gasping for air.
In thick water, I can feel but cannot see.
Then I sense your voice speaking to me stirring my soul:
“Look up, child.
Put your feet on the rock bottom.
It is solid ground. Holy ground.
Stand up and live.”
~ Missy Buchanan, Talking with God in Old Age

The anniversary of Bruce’s death was this past week, and as many of you know… I was struggling. First, I want to say, “Thank you!” Thank you to the many friends and family who reached out to me. Your support and love are what not only carried me through the week, but also made a huge difference in my ability to come out feeling okay on the other side.

And since that day was the focus of my week, my letter to Bruce seems to be the best thoughts I can share with you today…

Hey Babe!
Nine years… My that’s hard to believe. Sometimes it feels like it happened yesterday, and on other days it feels like forever. It’s strange, I know, but this year has been especially tough. I still miss you so much it hurts to even breathe at times. Yet… here I am… still here… So, there must be a reason.

It’s funny but I learned a few things today… First of all, even though I feel very much alone in all of this, I’m not. There are a lot of people around me who may not totally “get it”, but as the saying goes, “Compassion does not require understanding.” These are the people who are here for me… They care, and they love me.

I am not alone.

Second, grieving is a long process… and that’s okay. As long as I am moving forward and grounded in my reality, it is okay to take as much time as I need. I don’t need to rush through it or squash down my feelings to make someone else more comfortable. I, also, don’t need to throw it in anyone’s face, but it’s okay to work through this on my terms and in my own way.

Third, I’ve been saying for years that I wish I could just spend a day dealing with things my way – spending the whole day in bed crying if I feel like it. (Something I have never let myself do before, mainly because I am too scared I would never be able to stop and get back up.) Today, however, I stayed in bed most of the morning – crying, talking to you, and just getting a lot of crap off my chest – stuff I’ve been holding in for a long time. Then, I took my time doing only what I wanted, when I wanted… and it felt great!

Fourth, I love spending time at our beach and in our home, because I can feel you in both places. I went for a long walk on an (almost) empty beach. I went to the spot where we had your memorial service and where your ashes were scattered off-shore. I could almost feel you beside me. Yet, when I am here in our space, whether it’s porch sittin’ or in my reading chair, or in our room… I do feel you… I know you are here, and I know you can hear me when I talk to you. I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

And finally…

“Not everything that’s been taken from us was by the hand of God. But when I mentally place each and every loss in His hands, it can be redeemed… Loss is never the end of the story.” ~ Lysa Terkeurst, Forgiving What You Can’t Forget

I’m counting on that, Babe… I love you – Always and Forever!!

Grief is hard. It changes us in ways we could never have prepared for, and in ways no one else might understand. This journey is not an easy path for anyone… and this week for me, it was definitely a little bit harder. I don’t think any of us wants to on this path, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Life is now filled with challenges I never imagined. Each time I think I have it figured out; I find I don’t at all, despite the years since Bruce passed. This past week held a huge challenge for me. My goal now, though, is to let myself feel what I feel. At the same time, my other goal is to look at this life before me and find the joy and the hope life holds… And to hold onto that with everything I have.

Thanks to you, 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… Contemplations

I have good friends.
I have good family.
I am in a good place.
So, why does it still hurt so bad?
~ Linda, 2021

Hi Babe,
It’s odd how life just continues to plug along… Some days it feels like only yesterday you were here, and other days it feels as if I have been alone and missing you forever. This is that time of year that gets hard for me… all the holidays plus so many of our special days… Sometimes I just sit here in the quiet… waiting… listening… wishing I could hear your voice just one more time… But I don’t… All I hear is the never ending quiet. A quiet that at times brings me comfort and at other times threatens to swallow me.

I love looking around and finding odds and ends that remind me of you. Sometimes it is a little memento of a special time we had together, such as a shell picked up while diving on our honeymoon. Or maybe just seeing your tools still in the garage… waiting. (You would be proud. I’ve learned how to use a lot of them.) Then, there are your books – books on fishing and sailing, books on health and working out, books on travel, and books on philosophy. Many of them I have read by now, and the others just make me smile because they are so completely “you”. Somedays I just love picking up a photo album, curling up on the couch, and thumbing through… remembering the days and moments caught on film – how absolutely precious these are to me now.

I miss you so much, and I don’t know if I will ever get used to living in this world without you… Which is kind of strange, since we didn’t even have that much time together… only eight short years. The thing is you changed my world so much…

Before you, I can remember crying and wondering if I would ever know what it was like to be loved… really loved… There was so much hurt and pain left by my first marriage. I had been convinced (by him) that I wasn’t worth loving. But then you came along, and suddenly I was loved – totally and completely! Everything I had ever imagined or wished for came true with you… I knew it was rare… I knew it was a precious gift… What I didn’t know was just how short our time together would be… That has probably been the hardest part to accept – our life together had practically just started, and just as suddenly, it was over.

Sigh… (It’s times like this that I have to remind myself to breathe.)

I miss you, Babe… More than you could ever know. And I love you… I will always love you – Always and forever!

I miss you.
I think of you and my heart warms.
So then,
How do I face tomorrow?
How do I face another day without you?
My heart was broken into a thousand pieces when you left.
How am I to pick it up and move forward?
I still don’t know…
~ Linda, 2021

I say this every week, because I believe it is important… this is not an easy path for any of us. It is not a path I ever saw myself on, and you probably didn’t either. I don’t think any of us wants to be here, but this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. 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, 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.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Sometimes It’s Still a Struggle

This week, has been a little bit hard…

Hi Babe!
It’s getting closer and closer to your birthday. (Not that I need to tell you that.) Each time I think about it, though, I feel sad that you are no longer here to celebrate your day. I am so sorry… Sorry that I still miss you – that there are still times when I seem “stuck” somehow. But I am even more sorry that I couldn’t save you that night… And because of that, you are gone.

I know that everyone says there was nothing I could have done… Yet, somehow I still blame myself. I try no to dwell on it, but there are still times, like today, when I just can’t let it go. You were always there for me… and for my kids. I constantly said you were my hero… my whole world.

Then, one night – one moment – you needed me… and I failed you…

At first, I couldn’t even comprehend what was happening… I just thought you were dreaming. It took a few moments before I realized I couldn’t wake you. I finally turned on the light and tried again. Even once I finally made the decision to call 911, I was second guessing myself. What if you woke up and were upset that I had made a big deal over you…? You hated that kind of thing.

Then, I had to make sure the door was unlocked so the paramedics could get inside… And I had to find something hard to slide under your back, because you were too big, (and I was too small) to move you off the bed. Finally, I had to figure out how to actually get that thing under you. It took everything I had to lift you enough to slide it under you. It wasn’t until then, that I was finally able to start CPR.

So much precious time was already lost at that point…

I couldn’t tell you how long it really took – I have no idea. It was probably less that a minute, but it felt like forever. It felt like one of those dreams where you know you need to run, but your feet just won’t move… It’s like your shoes are made of concrete, and your brain is screaming at you to hurry up and move… But you just can’t!

I tried… I tried to hurry, but there was another part of me that just kept thinking this had to be a dream – a God-awful, terrible dream!

I can remember straddling your body and doing compressions on your chest… I can remember thinking that help was never going to get there. I can remember the voice of the 911 operator walking me through every motion and assuring me that help really was coming. I can remember looking at your face and begging you to open your eyes and look back at me…

But the problem was – you were already gone. I don’t think I realized that, though, until I watched the paramedics work on you. I remember exactly where I stood… and watched… I can remember… But none of it felt real… A life filled with this much love couldn’t end like this, could it?

I know I cried, because I can remember holding tissues, but I don’t remember how they ended up in my hand. I remember being asked a lot of questions as I stood there – watching – but I couldn’t tell you even one of the questions I was asked. I can remember the flurry and speed as they worked, while at the same time there was this other part of me that was so disconnected and kept thinking, “What a mess. I will need to clean this up before I can go to the hospital.” Please, don’t ask me why I thought that… I was probably in shock. I still didn’t think any of it was real… It just couldn’t be how “we” would end!

(deep breath… and another)

That was exactly how it ended… with you gone… and with me always wondering if I could have done something more to save you…

I am so very sorry, Babe! My heart is ripped to shreds… I still love you so very, very much… And that is forever!

This grief journey has been one of the most difficult experiences I have ever had. It has broken me down to the roots of my soul and has taken me years to feel some semblance of “normal.” Most days I think I am doing pretty good, but sometimes (like now) I am struggling. I have to really push myself to stay out of the rabbit hole. I know it is 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. 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

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… All I Want for Christmas

“All I want for Christmas is you.” ~ Mariah Carey & Walter Afanasieff

Today, I sit here listening to the Christmas music on the radio and staring at the lights on our tree. It’s beautiful… It’s all so beautiful.

So why am I crying?

After all, my entire life I have loved this season. I love everything about it… But this year, I am struggling to find the Christmas spirit. I’m trying! I really am, but it feels so elusive this year… What’s wrong with me?

Despite the craziness in the world right now, our family has been so blessed this year. We have loved having this time together as a family. Instead of spending our days rushing from one thing to the next, it has been so nice to just enjoy the simple things like family walks, playing games, doing puzzles, and even making up our own crazy, three-person version of badminton. It’s all been pretty fun… And now with the holidays, we are relearning how to enjoy this season without all the parades and parties. Instead, we are keeping this simple too. It’s different, but I love it. I do! It’s great!

So why am I struggling?

I know part of it is that despite the years, I still wish Bruce were here to share it… I hate that he is gone. I hate doing this without him (again). I would give anything for just one more holiday season with him. That is really all I want for Christmas – to be able to share all the things I love about this season with him just one more time… But that isn’t to be… And that makes me sad.

I have found myself crying every night this week. It’s not just that I miss Bruce – although that is a huge piece of it. It’s more than that. You see, most days, I can almost feel him next to me, and that brings me a certain peace… Many times, that is what gets me through those days when the world around me feels overwhelming, as well as those nights when I find myself reaching out in the dark to find emptiness beside me.

The last few days, though, I haven’t felt that… I haven’t felt him near me. I haven’t felt that peace… I feel like I am on my own, (which I know, I technically am)… But it feels different. It’s hard to explain.

When Bruce died, I felt lost… abandoned… completely hopeless. I didn’t really care what the next day held, because no matter what a day might hold, it would be without Bruce. However, as time has passed, I really have learned to feel hope again… I have learned to appreciate the brevity of life and the preciousness of each moment. I think that is why I am struggling with the season this year… There is an inner struggle between missing what was and appreciating what is.

I treasure the memories of our Christmases together. Yet, I don’t want to miss out on the memories we are making this year. I know this time is precious too… I just wish there were a way to have it all – Christmas now… but with Bruce, too.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yXQViqx6GMY&ab_channel=MariahCareyVEVO

I know it’s okay to feel what I feel. I know I can’t work through a feeling, if I don’t allow myself to feel it in the first place. So, I guess, I will keep this simple too… I will be good to myself. I will surround myself with people who love me and understand. I will ask for lots of extra hugs and patience, as I find my way through my emotions and this season.

In the end, I know I won’t get all I want for Christmas. No matter how hard I wish it, Bruce will not be here. That is reality. However, I truly believe that over the next few days, I can find that spirit of love and hope because of the people around me… People I love… People I treasure… People I keep close to my heart…

The holidays can hard, confusing, and an emotional roller coaster, when you are experiencing grief. Grief changes how we look at life and the world around us. It changes how we experience everything. This can make it hard to find the Christmas spirit and even harder to celebrate. Sometimes the best we can do is to just keep trying – don’t quit… don’t give up on yourself. 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… 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… The Holidays

As the holidays draw closer and closer… I find myself in a quandary trying to figure out how to take the next step…

“Hey Babe!
Such a week! The holidays can be so much fun… and yet, still so hard… like an emotional roller coaster. Some days, I literally bask in all the family, holiday craziness. It is so fun to share this season with the people I love and to see Christmas through the eyes of my grandson, who is finally old enough to recognize our family traditions and truly help (not “help”) with the decorations. I love it! It makes my heart so joyful!

We have Christmas music playing from the minute we wake up until we finally go to bed at night. And even though I am no longer able to sing (vocal cord damage from the cancer treatments years ago), I still try to hum along as best I can. We haven’t managed to get the tree up yet, but we will… Besides, the family time has been the best!

Then, the next thing you know, it happens. I find myself thinking about you, Babe… and that first Christmas… I remember decorating the condo while you were at work. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait for you to come home… But when you walked in, you literally stopped in your tracks and just stared. No words… no expression on your face.

“Oh no!” I thought. “I’ve ‘messed up’” …. I was so scared you hated it! But then, you got the biggest grin! I remember you hugging me so tight and saying something like, “This absolutely feels like Christmas! I think these are the best Christmas decorations I have ever seen. Thank you! Thank you for bringing the joy of Christmas back into my world!”

… At this point, I cry… I cry because now my joy is gone…

Then, I look around at our current situation and think, “You would love this! You would be so excited to watch our grandson and share all that this season has to offer with this precious boy.”

And if I am going to be honest (which I am), there also have been a few times this week when I have been angry… very angry… I am almost ashamed to admit it, but sometimes I am so mad at you, Babe. You died too soon! And you left me here… alone… And honestly… that pisses me off sometimes! My heart breaks! You were too young! It was too soon! We didn’t have enough time! … And sometimes, I don’t think I will ever get used to this.

Life without you is hard… And the holidays without you is even harder. I don’t know why it was decided that this was our path. It still feels so wrong… Our love was so complete, and our time was too short. So many nights this week have ended with me sitting in the middle of our room – crying and wondering why... And knowing there will never be an answer to that question.

But… life goes on… This season still has a few more weeks. I know there will be more triggers, more memories, and more emotions. That means there will be more joy… and more tears. But for now, I will try to feel you next to me… experiencing all these precious moments with us.

I miss you, Babe, and I love you… Always and forever!”

If you’re like me and missing someone this Christmas, this song is dedicated to you…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0yFXfAGl17M&list=RDQMD96WatA2lck&ab_channel=ThePianoGuys

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 changes have you had to navigate on this journey? 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.