precious memories – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Our First Family Holiday

Well, it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas in our little town, and I have started pulling out a few decorations here and there to get a jump on the decorating. Normally, I wait until the weekend after Thanksgiving to start all that, but there are already so many things on the calendar that I decided to start a little bit earlier this year.

Not that my decorating is what this week’s blog is about… It isn’t. At the same time, it is the decorating that sparked the memory that I want to share today… One that hits me every year as soon as the Christmas décor starts being pulled out of the boxes.

It was late September, when Bruce and I made the decision to get married. So then, Halloween weekend found my youngest daughter and I driving up to Michigan with a carload of our stuff and my middle daughter’s cat. Bruce and I were married about a week later… But we still had stuff back home, so the three of us traveled all the way back home to South Carolina a few weeks later, where we spent Thanksgiving Day with my family, loaded up a moving van with the final stuff we were taking with us, and traveled back to Michigan in time for Bruce to go to work on Monday.

Being the wonderful, generous people they are, Bruce’s folks lost no time in coming over on Monday (while Bruce was working) and helped my daughter and I unload the van and get settled in. Moving from a 3000 square foot home to a 900 square foot condo, though, meant that a lot of items were going into storage until we figured out what (if anything) to do with them.

I will always remember Bruce’s Dad laughing at me as he counted the number of boxes marked “Christmas”. I am pretty sure the number was somewhere around 20 (and that did not include a tree). His Dad, who was doing all the heavy lifting, just laughed and laughed as he carried yet another box into the house saying, “My goodness! You sure do love Christmas!”

By the time Bruce got home that night, the truck was unpacked, the furniture was in place, and there was a tower of Christmas boxes in the dining room waiting to be emptied over the next few days. Bruce chuckled as his dad continued to tease me. Then, he grinned and simply said, “I have some Christmas decorations too. Let me add them to the pile.”

Then, he proceeded to go into the closet and pull out one box… Yes, you read that right… one box… And when I peeked inside to see what he had in there, I saw one nativity set, one stocking, a Christmas blanket, and a tangled mess of Christmas lights… He just laughed sheepishly when he saw my face. “I’ve been a bachelor for 14 years. What did you expect?”

That week, while Bruce was at work, and my youngest was at school, I set to work decorating the house for Christmas. By Friday, with the exception of a tree, the house was decorated… It looked like Christmas had exploded in that tiny little space, and I was a little worried that my minimalist husband might not be too pleased.

I shouldn’t have worried though. When Bruce came through the door on that Friday, he looked around and grinned from ear to ear. Then, he took me in his arms and whispered, “You have really made this place look like a home… a real home… I can’t wait for my daughter to see this. She won’t believe this is the same place.”

After dinner, Bruce asked if we would all like to go to pick a tree the next morning. He suggested that we get that up and decorated over the weekend. While my daughter (who was understandably not thrilled at moving and having a stepfather) tried to act like she could care less, I couldn’t wait. We were going to have a wonderful Christmas… I just knew it.

So, early the next morning, Bruce tossed a saw into the back of his truck and the three of us piled into the front. There was fresh snow on the ground, but the truck was warm as we drove to what Bruce proclaimed was the “best Christmas tree farm in the state”. Once we arrived, the three of us piled out, Bruce grabbed the saw, I started inspecting trees, and my daughter did the “I’m bored and angsty” thing.

After several minutes, I called the two of them over to show them the tree I thought would be perfect. Bruce didn’t even look at it. Instead, he looked at my daughter and asked if she had picked one yet.
“What?” I asked.

“It’s tradition,” he responded. “In our family, the youngest daughter always picks the tree. Growing up, that was my youngest sister… She was always the one to pick the tree.”

“Seriously?”, I asked.

“Seriously,” he answered, as he turned back to my daughter.

Then, I saw my first Christmas miracle… My daughter’s face lit up as she realized the “gift” he was giving her… Not just a chance to pick our first family tree, but the gift of his family and her inclusion into their world and their traditions.

I will admit, it took me a few minutes to appreciate what was happening. However, after watching the two of them walk all over that farm until she finally found the tree she wanted, my heart softened. Then, watching him as he lay on his belly in the snow and proceeded to saw down “her tree”, I knew this was one of those precious moments that none of us would ever forget.

Many Christmases have come and gone since that year, and each one holds a precious place in my heart. Yet, that year will always stand out because that was the year that this wonderful man gave my family the gift of his family… and his heart.

Holiday Note: I will be taking a break next weekend, while I spend time with my family. I will meet you back here the following week.
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Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

Maybe this strikes a chord with you too. We would all love to hear your thoughts or your story. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or maybe a virtual hug, let us know. We are here for you… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

* 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 – A Love Letter

Dear Babe,

Happy Anniversary! As I went to bed last night, it hit me that this would have been 20 years… Wow!! That seems crazy. It feels like just yesterday, we were boarding that boat in St. Thomas and sitting down beside each other for the first time… An event that would forever change both our lives.

I remember the late-night talks on that cruise when we shyly held hands or kissed… I remember sitting on the dock, watching the stars come out as we shared the stories that had brought each of us to that moment… or how you kept saying that you couldn’t wait for your family to meet me, (which may have freaked me out just a little bit).

I can’t help but think about our first date after the cruise, when I flew up to Michigan in February, (because that is everyone’s dream destination in the middle of winter – LOL). Or, how about the anniversary we spent in Northern Michigan just so I could finally go on a true, old-fashioned sleigh ride? I am laughing remembering how you brought along several blankets and a flask of rum to “keep us warm”, and by the end of the day, you had to carry me back to our room and put me to bed. (Hot chocolate may have been a wiser choice.) LOL!

So many wonderfully, precious memories… and all with you… and me… and a little thing called, love. <3

This weekend, though, is all about that day when we told the world that we were in love and committed to each other. We had already made that vow to each other many months earlier, but on this day, we shared that commitment with our families and the rest of the world. We had both been burned badly before and were so scared, but our love was greater than our fears… So, there we stood in front of that judge and a few family members ready to spend the rest of forever together.

We were like two pieces of a puzzle that makes up this life – a perfect fit, despite each having had our own struggles. How many times did we lie in each other’s arms talking about how the other seemed to heal those parts of ourselves that had been hurt so deeply by others? … Not a one-way street, but a mutual love that healed two hearts at once.

I keep thinking back to our first dance on that cruise in the Caribbean, and then to the last one in our bedroom just days before you died. God, how I miss those moments!

I don’t care how much time passes, I don’t think I will ever understand why I am here and you are gone… It feels like some kind of awful mistake. My hope, though, lies in my belief that we will see other again… and I will run into your arms… and we will hold each other forever.

As I sit here today listening to “our song”, I find myself crying and smiling at the same time… So thankful to have known and loved you – this man who quickly became my hero… my knight in shining armor… So broken-hearted that you are gone… So blessed to have loved you and to have known your love in return.

As you used to say, “God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you!” *

I love you, Babe… and that’s forever!

* Rascal Flats, Bless the Broken Road
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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 – Where We Focus

Last week, I talked about how the ‘missing’ part of grief seems to remain. I stated that I wondered if it ever goes away, because I know I still feel it… Granted, it isn’t the debilitating, overwhelming emotion that it was in the beginning. Still, it is there… and it is just as real as ever.

So, as I journaled this week, I found myself pondering that very notion… Does the sadness – the missing ever stop? I don’t think so. I do, however, think it gets manageable, (for lack of a better word).

I think part of my quandary stems from something that I heard so often in the beginning… “It will get better with time.” While there is a certain amount of truth to that, it really doesn’t help as much as people may think. (At least, not for me.)

Here’s the thing… We live in a world of instant _____. Fill in the blank with pretty much anything. Let’s be real – we don’t really have to wait for very much these days. Almost everything can be attained instantly.

Can you imagine placing an order with Amazon and being told, “It will be there ‘in time’.” Or trying to purchase a plane ticket, but instead of listing arrival times, it just states that the plane will arrive ‘in time’. Or you get a new job, but when you ask about your start date, they reply with, “You will start ‘in time’.”

That all sounds kind of ridiculous, doesn’t it? Which is exactly how the “things will get better in time” hit me back then. There is no direction in that statement… No “how-to”. While it does offer a smidge of hope, there is no specific date to look for in the future when it might not hurt so badly. Just an abstract – “at some point in time it will feel better than it does right now.” (Gee… thanks… I would certainly hope so.)

Then this week, as I was trying to figure out what had changed in my world to make it “better”, something hit me. I believe that our thoughts create our experience. In other words, what I focus on will affect my emotions and, hence, my experience of life.

I also know that in the past few years, I have worked hard to focus more on the good times Bruce and I shared, instead of focusing on the night he died or the idea of facing my future without him. (That does not mean those things never cross mind. They absolutely do. However, as long as I am mindful of them, those thoughts are less frequent and less intense than they used to be.

For example, when “our song” plays on the radio, I used to cry thinking about how he will never again take me by the hand, (barefoot in the kitchen), and hold me close as we dance to that song. True, I still think about all the times he held me close, and we danced barefoot in the kitchen. However, I work hard to focus on that memory and how wonderful and precious it is… not how those times are over, (because that is precisely what leads me down into the muck).

In other words, I try to stay focused on the good times and love we shared, not the absence of those things. I work hard to hold onto how thankful I am that he walked into my life and loved me, not the fact that he is gone.

I don’t know if that makes sense, or if anyone can even relate to what I am saying. I am sure there are other experiences and ways of healing on this journey. This is just part of my experience… A conscious choice that I have to make each and every day… To focus on life – how precious it was with him and the warmth of those memories… and, also, how precious each moment is now because I get to spend it with those I love.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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 – And on It Goes

Last week, I wrote about happiness… I think sometimes the Universe hears us and says, “You like that? Watch this!” Then, things happen that validate our own thoughts and make us smile… And that is exactly what happened for me…

I was at church last weekend and saw on that program that someone was singing “Bare Necessities”. I chuckled to myself thinking, “Well, that’s a first for me (at church, anyway).”

As the service progressed with the theme of healing and how much our attitudes and thoughts play into our healing – physical, emotional, and spiritual, I began to see where that song could fit, despite my negative, “churchy” attitude. (I hate it when I let old religious, self-righteousness jump in rather than being open to what the Divine is offering in the moment.)

As the gentleman got up to sing, joy – pure joy – filled my soul… my “happiness tank” was over-flowing. Not only did this man do an amazing job, but you see, Disney’s Jungle Book, was Bruce’s favorite Disney movie. In fact, truth be told, Bruce was simply a big Baloo, himself… He lived in the present. He lived simply. He didn’t anger easily or often. He never seemed to panic and could see the good in almost every situation.

As I sat there, memories… sweet, precious memories, of this wonderful man I love and how he chose to live his life, filled my heart and showed on my face. According to him, the sentiments in this song were how he had healed himself when he was younger and dealing with feelings of rejection and abandonment.

He used to tell me stories of how he had struggled with his emotions. However, after some time spent in self-reflection, (and a little help from his sister), he had learned a different way to “be” – a more spiritual, “let it be – let them be” attitude.

I think that was one of the greatest things he taught… no – showed me when he was here… The gift of trusting the Divine and seeing the Christ in all things and people.

So… as I sat there listening to that seemingly silly song, I realized, once again, that not only is being happy okay, but Bruce would also never want me to feel anything less – especially when I am thinking of him.
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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

Peace, Love, and Grief – Bittersweet Memories

Note: If you looked for me last week, I apologize. I was celebrating a birthday with my kiddos. Knowing how precious each and every moment can be, I chose to enjoy every moment making precious memories.

Last week, I was out running Christmas errands which took me 50+ miles from home. At dusk, I started making the trek back home. Christmas music played on the radio, while I made a mental list of all the things I still needed to do to get ready for Christmas. While I was still about 30 or so miles from home, I passed a Winn Dixie… While this is not where I do my grocery shopping, a memory of this specific store came flooding back into my mind… one that really could so easily be forgotten over time.

It was Christmas Eve 2012. I was already enjoying my Christmas vacation, but Bruce was finishing up his last day before we could enjoy a few days off together. I had spent the day wrapping presents and cooking – trying to complete all those last-minute things before Bruce got home.

I had finally finished all the things and, as I waited, I started a jigsaw puzzle to pass the time. About the time I would have expected Bruce to walk through the door, he called. He was sitting in a Winn Dixie parking lot. He had stopped to pick up some beer, but when he came back out, his truck wouldn’t start. He had fiddled with it, (but with no luck), and had already called a tow truck. Could I come pick him up, follow the tow truck to the repair shop, then bring us both home?

Not quite how I expected our Christmas Eve to go, but of course! So, I jumped in the car and headed out of town to meet him. Despite the 30-mile drive, I beat the tow truck, and we sat in the car eating WD fried chicken as we waited. When the truck finally came, Bruce and the driver took one more look and tinkered with the engine, before giving up, hooking up the truck and towing it to the nearest dealership.

It took about a week to get before the truck was fixed, and I drove him back to pick it up. Another week later… Bruce was dead.

It isn’t a memory with any huge significance. It was one of those inconveniences of life that just so happened to take place on Christmas Eve… Our last Christmas Eve… Maybe that is why it sticks out in my mind.

So, when I drove by that same Winn Dixie with Christmas on my mind, that memory instantly popped up in my mind… Our Christmas Eve dinner of fried chicken while sitting in my Honda waiting for a tow truck. His nonchalant way of dealing with something that very easily could have ruined his whole holiday… but no. He just shrugged it off as “one of those things”… No worries. I always loved that about Bruce… Nothing ever seemed to ruffle him. He not only took it all in stride… He could make it into something fun – a picnic on Christmas Eve with just us.

As all of the memories and feelings of that evening inundated my mind, the tears started to fall. I must admit, the whole thing had caught me by surprise. I drive by this Winn Dixie on my way to work and whenever I am running errands in this area.

I wasn’t expecting the memory or my reaction to it.

I turned off the radio for a few minutes and just let myself remember… The concern that his truck wasn’t working, and he was stranded, the laughter and warmth inside my car as we waited for the tow truck, and the way Bruce was determined that this setback was not going to set the tone for our holiday.

It isn’t a memory I think about very often. At the same time, I will always cherish that experience and the way he took something not so great and made it into a fun start to the holiday. I love that about him… Thank you, Babe, for being you, and for making sure that our last Christmas was a very Merry Christmas!
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Grief is a daily challenge. It changes us we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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

Walking with Bruce

Currently, I am in Colorado for business. I lived here years ago, but because of the circumstances at that time, I rarely went out to see the local area. This time seemed to be starting off similarly. Throughout the week, I was just too busy to really do any exploring – leaving the hotel around 6:30 am and returning about 12 hours later.

However, today I woke up to sunny skies and decided I wanted to do something… anything… outside. I wanted to see this place and be able to appreciate the beauty here that is so different than back home. My hotel is not too far from the local botanical gardens, which sounded perfect. I could spend a few hours outside in nature, walking trails with no worries whatsoever about safety despite being alone.

As I was walking up to the ticket booth, two women about my same age offered to let me enter with them on their pass. I didn’t know what to say at first. They quickly assured me that I didn’t need to stay with them… They have three passes and whenever they come, they always offer to let someone in… Today it was me.

(Before I go any further, let me just say… It was the most beautiful, joy-filled morning!)

Almost immediately upon walking in, precious memories started popping into my mind…

It was my second Mother’s Day with Bruce. Knowing that Mother’s Day was always a struggle for me, Bruce always made sure it was a day where I felt loved. (Although, to his credit, he made me feel loved every day.)

On this Mother’s Day, Bruce had made his delicious biscuits and sausage gravy for breakfast since it was my favorite. Afterward, he said he had a plan for the morning, but it was a surprise. All he would tell me was to wear jeans and my tennis shoes. No matter how much I begged, he wasn’t telling me anything more. Every answer came with a grin and was the same – “It’s a surprise.”

The surprise ended up being a series of trails along a lake that was less than a mile from our house. It was so beautiful and peaceful. Being spring, the flowers were just starting to bloom. There were swans in the lake, along with several beaver damns. Being Mother’s Day morning, there didn’t seem to be another soul around. It was just the two of us, and it felt like heaven.

We walked and talked for hours. Bruce shared how this was the space where he felt closest to God, not in a man-made building but out in nature. I couldn’t agree more. It was a beautiful day… and one we repeated often over the years. This space became one of our favorite places to spend a Sunday morning.

So today as I walked along the seemingly endless, meandering trails, I could almost feel Bruce right there next to me. I can’t even begin to explain the joy and comfort I felt. Even now, as I write this, I can close my eyes and remember… I can feel my hand in his… I can hear his voice telling me that he wanted to spend the rest of his days… with me… like this… together…

Me too, Babe… me too…
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

Peace, Love, and Grief – Mindfulness

Note: I apologize for missing last week. I was on vacation with my son and just wanted to stay focused on our time together.

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For anyone who has been reading about my journey over the years, you know that this has been a long road for me. While my grief has been centered on the loss of Bruce, part of what has made this struggle so hard was that I never learned how to grieve in the first place. The few times in my life where I did experience loss, it was presented to me in the form of what I would call toxic religion. (Just sayin’.) With each loss, it was presented as a “celebration” because that person was “in a better place.” Tears and grief were placed in a category of non-faith… They were paramount to sin and were to be stifled…

But when Bruce died, I couldn’t do that anymore… The pain was too deep… At the same time, I couldn’t even begin to process my grief over the loss of Bruce until I went back and learned to process all the other losses from my past… I guess it is no secret that this has taken me a little while.

It is like the pendulum swung completely the other way… I went from not knowing how to grieve to not knowing how to stop grieving. I knew I needed help… No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t quite figure it all out on my own. I needed help…

It has not been a secret that over the past few years I have been working hard in therapy… It started as a recognition of things within myself that I wanted to change, and has become a whole lot more… The biggest piece being the work we have done around PTSD and the different traumatic events that have kept me stuck emotionally.

I am learning that…

I am enough… I really do have control… I am strong and my strength comes from the Divine within; all I have to do is be still and connect to the truth.

In other words, it is about being mindful… About finding the wonder and awe within the present moment. It is about remembering those precious memories from the past, but not remaining so focused on them that I miss what is happening right in front of me. It is about finding the love in each moment and each person on my path.

Yes, I still miss Bruce. Yes, I would give my soul to have him back. Yet, I also know that he is gone… No amount of wishing is going to bring him back. I can relive those precious memories a million times in my head, but that is never going to change the fact that they are still only memories… No more.

I have also come to realize that if I am here, there must be a reason… and that reason must be for a greater purpose than grief. So… more and more I am working to stay present in the moment… To feel the love of those who choose to be in my life… To find the joy there and to create even more precious memories…

This is where life happens… And after all we have been through, we know how precious each moment here truly is…

“Mindfulness Is paying attention on purpose, in the present moment, nonjudgmentally. It’s seeing things as they are not as we prefer them to be.” ~ Nelson, Ronka, and Lang, Designing & Leading Life-Changing Workshops
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. Learning to take it one day/moment at a time is all any of us can do.

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

Peace, Love, and Grief – Memory Lane

Before Bruce passed, I had never kept a journal before. However, when he died, one of the first things my mother suggested for the grief I was struggling with was to start a journal. I had no idea what to write or how to put all the feelings I had on paper in such a way as to be helpful. Yet, the minute I picked up a pin and opened that first blank book, the struggle was gone. My mother was right… This was going to be my outlet.

In the beginning, I write several times a day… There was so much weighing on my soul that I needed to simply get out. While I no longer write daily, I do write consistently. I guess with no one around to talk to, this is still a wonderful outlet for me.

This week, while filling out some paperwork, I found myself in need of some dates that were foggy at best inside my own head. My journals, though… they list almost every important event over the last decade, so that is where I went… And while I was perusing through, I found myself walking down memory lane as I read through the entries.

In the beginning, I was so scared of forgetting all the wonderful moments Bruce and I shared, that I started recording them in my journals. I am so glad I did, because there were stories and events that I had not thought about for years. In fact, reading these entries has been such a bittersweet experience, I thought I would share a story or two with you, in Bruce’s honor. After all, as long as his story is still being told, he is not forgotten…

January 20, 2013

On the first cruise where I met Bruce, we danced and danced – all night, every night. I was so excited to take the same cruise the next year as our honeymoon (with two of my kids in tow – LOL). However, on this second cruise, Bruce would not dance at all. He simply wouldn’t. In the cabin one night, I was upset and (actually) crying. (I had been so excited about a “repeat” cruise.)

“But I don’t need to dance now. We’re married,” he said. He wasn’t trying to be mean; he was just being honest… and a guy. He did finally dance with me… once. However, it was pretty clear, he didn’t want to. Through the years, he danced with me quite often – barefoot in the kitchen… but rarely did it last a full song.

Our last Christmas together, as we were figuring out new traditions (just for us) in order to adjust to “childless” Christmases, I told him that one new tradition I wanted was for him to dance one full song with me on Christmas. He actually laughed out loud, but he didn’t say yes or no. As for me, I knew how he functioned… I wasn’t going to get an answer. I would simply have to wait and see.

Christmas day came, and it was fun… There were gifts (of course), skyping with family, kayaking, drinks with the neighbors, and a (very) small traditional Christmas dinner. As we went into the bedroom for bedtime, I told him that I still wanted my dance. He smiled, nodded, and asked, “What song?”

I quickly put in Jim Brickman’s song, The Gift, since I’ve always told Bruce he was the best Christmas gift ever. He loved it. We danced with tears in our eyes – each of us overwhelmed by our love in that moment.
I will always treasure that dance. It wasn’t the last dance. (He actually danced with me repeatedly just a week later on New Years – all on his own.) However, this moment was private, tender… like dancing with my Prince Charming… and it ended in a kiss that I will always remember.

January 24, 2013

The story of the spoons… Oh my goodness! Keep in mind, this story is about two people who love each other, but also have a whole lifetime of living very different lives with very different ways of communicating.

So… I am a stuff person. Not like a hoarder, but I do like things that carry an emotional attachment (as long as each thing has a place where it belongs). Bruce, on the other hand, was a minimalist. (For the record, I’ve learned to find a balance between the two.) Keep in mind that when we married, I moved from my 3000 SQ Ft home to his 900 SQ Ft condo, which meant leaving most of what I owned behind. Now, take a moment and just let that sink in… As you could guess, there were times (in the beginning) when my invasion of “stuff” made him crazy.

On one such day, I came home from work to find him a wee bit crabby. On the counter, he had a long silver box, which he slid toward me as he asked, “What is this?”

“A Charleston rice spoon,” I replied warily – not quite sure where this was going.

“Do you need it?” he asked.

(Now, for those who aren’t familiar, a Charleston rice spoon is something every Charleston girl receives on her wedding day… It is tradition… It is a big deal.

“Yes,” I answered. “It means a lot to me. It is part of my heritage. It is traditional.”

He sighed. “Well, do you have to keep it in the kitchen?”

“It’s a spoon,” I answered, getting annoyed.

“Could you keep it somewhere else?” he asked with a bit of attitude.

“I guess,” I responded… At that point, the wheels started turning. Then, while he was in the shower, I removed every spoon from the kitchen and hid them in my dresser drawers. After all, if my spoon didn’t belong in the kitchen, then obviously no spoon belonged in the kitchen. Plus, all week, he had been talking about making French Onion Soup the next day.

“Let’s see him eat that with no spoon,” I thought to myself. “Ha!” (Yes, very petty and passive-aggressive – I am very much aware.)

The next day, I came home from work to find Bruce eating the soup with a measuring spoon. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Eating my soup. It’s good. Want some?” he replied nonchalantly.

“Why are you eating using that instead of a real spoon?” I asked, chuckling to myself as I tried to keep a straight face.

“I think all the spoons are dirty,” he said. “This was all I could find.”

OH MY GOSH!! I laughed so hard at myself!! He never noticed the spoons were gone… or he didn’t really care. Either way, it didn’t phase him a lick.

He was always that way – totally oblivious to my drama! (Which I learned quite quickly to give up.) What a great man! I love him so much! I don’t think that will ever go away!!

“The friends that we have lost do not repose in the bosom of the earth, but are buried deep in our hearts, and it has been thus ordained that we may always be accompanied by them.”
~ Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo

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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone. I don’t think any of us chose to be here… I know I didn’t. Yet, this is where life has landed us for now… This is where we are. Our lives are now filled with challenges we never imagined and emotions that feel overwhelming at times. So often, I think I have it all figured out, only to find that isn’t true at all. Despite the years since Bruce passed, my life is still filled with challenges, as I am sure yours is too. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘be’ and to be comfortable with that… however it looks.

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

Peace, Love, and Grief… Triggers

Can we talk about triggers today? Oh my gosh! Before Bruce died, I had no idea how many triggers there would be… There have been things that I would have never guessed would be a trigger, but they are. Do you know what I mean?

In the beginning, the triggers were everywhere – all around me and all the time.

If I saw a couple together holding hands or being affectionate – trigger! All I could think about was everything I was missing and would never have again.

If I saw a couple arguing – trigger! Didn’t they know how precious our time here is? That tomorrow isn’t guaranteed for any of us? Why would you waste even one moment being angry about something that probably won’t even matter tomorrow or be remembered in a year?

If I was walking through the grocery store and saw Bruce’s favorite beer – trigger! I couldn’t get past the knowledge that I will never again buy that beer for him or taste it on his lips.

If I was listening to the radio and “our song” (or any song attached to a special memory) came on – trigger! Such precious moments that are over and gone.

So… many… triggers!

As time has passed, the triggers are less frequent but not less intense. In fact, this last week or so, (for some crazy reason that only the Universe knows), has been filled with triggers.

It started with a book my boss loaned me. I didn’t know anything about the book. I had never heard of the book. I didn’t ask to borrow the book. She happened to bring it to me and simply said, “I just finished this and thought you would really connect with it.” So I read it.

At first, I didn’t quite understand what she thought I would connect with. The main character was only in her 20s, and that was a long time ago for me. However, as the storyline progressed, I realized this main character was in an abusive relationship. (I literally had to put the book down and pull myself together emotionally several times while reading.)

Yet, not only did I connect with the abusive portion and all that it entailed, there was also the hero in her life that offered her the safety of a loving relationship (just as Bruce did for me so many years ago). The book was great, but it took me several days to push down all the domestic violence memories and remind myself that I am safe now. (Although, admittedly, without Bruce I still struggle in that department.)

Then in the next book I was reading, one of the main characters had a heart attack, and that particular chapter was told from his viewpoint. For me, it felt like I was reading about Bruce’s death with Bruce telling me the story. I can’t lie… It was really hard to read, and the tears would not stop. All the memories of that night and my own feelings of failing him flooded back and filled my soul.

Later in the week, I was watching a movie with a friend. She warned me beforehand that there might be some parts that would trigger me. (Thank you, my friend!) But I wanted to watch it anyway. As the movie progressed, I slowly came to realize that the mother in the movie was dealing with a recurrence of breast cancer and was dying. (Yes, one of my fears.) At the point where it all becomes crystal clear, she is lying in her husband’s arms crying and telling him how scared she is… All he can do is hold her close and kiss her.

True, this never occurred between Bruce and I because I got cancer after he died. But I found myself feeling a little bit jealous that he was never able to do that. I needed him back then and would have given anything to have had his love and support when I went down that road. (Yes… I do realize that the movie is fiction and being jealous is silly. However, I cannot control how I feel, only what I choose to do with those feelings. So, I am just being honest here.)

And finally…

One evening this week, I was sitting in my reading chair (not reading). I was simply sitting there, looking at our space, and missing Bruce (a lot). I had been silent for quite a while. However, when I found myself looking at a picture of him fishing at the beach, I simply said out loud, “I miss you, Babe”. Suddenly, the Alexa in the kitchen started playing Jimmy Buffet’s song, “A Pirate Looks at 40”. (To clarify, JB was our favorite. We went to several concerts through the years, and spent many nights simply dancing barefoot to his tunes in the kitchen.) I didn’t know whether to smile or cry when it happened… so I did both. (I don’t know that this was necessarily a trigger as much as a comfort to my soul after all the other triggers, and I am so grateful for it.)

Honestly, I don’t think the triggers will ever stop being a thing. I also believe that time does help me manage those triggers better and better. For example, in the beginning, I had to wear sunglasses almost everywhere I went so people couldn’t see that I was crying. Now, I am pretty good at pushing the tears back, (or keeping them to a minimum), and moving on… waiting to contemplate whatever trigger happened later when I am alone to write it out and/or think it through. I can’t say dealing with triggers gets any easier with time, but I do think over time I am learning to work through them in a much more healthy way… which is a step in the right direction.
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Grief changes us. This journey is not an easy path for anyone. Learning to function on this new path is hard, 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.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Remembering the Good

I can’t even begin to count the number of self-help books and articles I have read since Bruce died. I seem to always have one that I am reading and the next one waiting on the bedside table. In the beginning they seemed to all be about dealing with grief, and over time, that has grown into many “side” topics that still relate back to grief in some fashion (at least, for me). Shoot! Even when the topic has nothing to do with grief, I seem to always find some tidbit I can apply that helps my grief journey move forward, even if it is only a baby step.

When Bruce first died, all I could focus on was the fact that he was gone, and I was alone. Nothing else seemed to sink in… Nothing else mattered. Everything in my mind was centered on the absolute awfulness of the entire situation – all the years left to be alone, all the holidays and special moments that would never be… The future looked bleak… Life wasn’t supposed to be like this, and yet, this was all I could see.

Back then, I felt so lost, even prayer was something I couldn’t find the ability to do. People would say things to try to make me feel better, but I couldn’t hear the love in what they were saying. All I could hear was what felt like judgement or a complete inability to understand what I was going through. I can’t even tell you how many times I heard that I needed to learn to look for the positives in all this – to rejoice and be thankful.

Excuse me?? NO!! I couldn’t do that any more than I could bring Bruce back… (And believe me, if I could have done either of those things, I would have.)

As time has passed, I have learned a few things about this journey… They aren’t big. They are quite small, but for me, these have made a huge difference in my ability to navigate this path just a little bit better.

1. God never said to be thankful for all circumstances. The verse actually says to be thankful in all circumstances. In other words, this verse is meant to be a reminder to look for the blessings around us, even when we are in the middle of something awful… like grief. It was never meant to be used in judgement or to make us feel bad about where we are emotionally. It is simply a sign on the journey… a reminder… nothing more.

2. As time passes, I think less and less about that terrible night when Bruce died. I haven’t forgotten it… I will always remember every last detail. However, I don’t think about it all the time. Instead, I find myself remembering all the good times… all the sweet memories we built together… all the love I felt when we were together… That is where my mind goes these days.

3. And because that is now where my mind tends to stay, I am finally able to pray for God to help me accept what I have to accept… To understand that death is as much a part of this life as breathing. You see, as long as I was focused solely on the negatives, I couldn’t remember the good things, and I couldn’t vocalize that prayer. Yet, when I am focused on the good things, the negatives turn out to be not so powerful, and I can breathe.

I’m not sure where along the line things changed, but this week, I realized that I have finally come to a point where the good memories greatly outweigh the sadness at least 90% of the time. That’s pretty good, don’t you think? I mean, sure… It has taken me a while to get here… and I still have a ways to go… But in the meantime, I will celebrate and accept the joy of remembering the good, and be thankful that I am learning to accept what I have to accept.
_________________________________________________________
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.