precious time – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Time is Precious

As I write this, the Christian community is contemplating Good Friday. The day Jesus was crucified. The day Jesus died. The day those who loved him, those who called him “Teacher” and “Rabbi” witnessed his horrific death. The day his own mother watched him die a tortuous death.

According to the Christian tradition, that isn’t the end of the story, though. According to the Christian faith, Easter happened a few days later… According to those beliefs, Jesus didn’t stay dead… He rose again and lives still.

While I know that is what today (the day you are reading this) is about, that isn’t the part I want to focus on. I want to go back to that Friday… That death… That pain that all those who loved Jesus must have felt. They had no idea what was coming. All they knew was that this person… This man… Their friend… Her son… was dead… gone. Also, keep in mind, according to tradition, the sky went dark when Jesus died, because even God felt all the emotions of grief, including anger.

Today, I wonder if all those grieving people felt the same way so many of us do when we are grieving… That feeling of “I can’t believe they are gone”. I wonder if they said the same thing we all tell ourselves afterward… Time is so precious. I wonder if they second guessed those last days, weeks, or months like we tend to do… Did I spend my time with them wisely?… Do I have any regrets?… Is there anything I would have done different if I were given the chance to do even one day over again?

… I wonder if that is our connection in that story…

I have written that phrase so many times, both here and in my journal… “Time is precious.” I don’t really have any regrets about Bruce and my time together. That is probably because I think of regrets as things that are more negative like time spent fighting or being angry. That didn’t happen. As I wrote last week, our last week together was so incredibly normal. Yet, there are things I would have done different, if I had known that was his last week… month… or year…

I would have taken more vacation days and spent them with him. I would have gone with him that last Thursday to watch the sunrise on the beach. I would have spent more time listening… I mean really listening to what he said and what he didn’t say. I probably would have asked a million questions trying to get to know every last part of him before it was too late. I would have cried… a lot. I would have held him longer and kissed him at every opportunity…

But I didn’t know, and I didn’t do any of those things… Why?

I think that is because living your life like that would be kind of weird… That really isn’t how any of us live our lives. We love those around us, and we appreciate all that they add to our lives. At the same time, we each live the life we were called to live. We don’t drop everything in our world to focus on someone else (or at least we shouldn’t) because that isn’t healthy.

Yet, I still say it, and I still believe it… Time is precious.

So how do we live like we mean that?

I have spent the last decade since Bruce died, trying to make good use of my time. Learning how to be me and all that might entail… Figuring out my faith… Learning to accept and love myself… Learning to simply “Be” … Trying to be present in each moment… Trying to maintain relationships that are loving and healthy… Learning to forgive and let go, while still maintaining boundaries that allow me to live a healthy life… Not forcing relationships, but leaving the door cracked, just in case… Remembering that to be present in each moment includes feeling whatever is there, whether I am loving, laughing, crying, or discovering.

Do I always get it right? Of course not! However, that pursuit is what life is all about – figuring out all of these things that make us who we are is exactly what allows us to love the world and all that is in it. It is what allows me to see the divine in each and every person and connect with them at that point… even when we are getting everything else terribly wrong. It is what allows me to get up each and every morning and start again – fresh. It is why I call my aging parents every week, as well as my family that is so far away. It is why I don’t give up on those relationships that are currently upside-down or the ones that seem hopelessly lost.

The death and resurrection of Jesus gives us hope… It shows us how to connect to the Christ within all of us. The death of Bruce showed me that time really is precious. At the same time, it isn’t about trying to spend every minute with every person – I can’t… That isn’t realistic. Instead, for me, it is about living my purpose in each moment and touching those lives that want to be a part of mine… It is about creating those precious memories filled with love, because we know that tomorrow just might be too late… So, I will need to do the best that I can with this moment and this day… No pressure to do anything more… or anything less.

For me, I do believe that one day I will see Bruce again… I believe that one day he and I will celebrate our Easter… Our resurrection and transformation… Until that time comes, though, I have promised myself that I will do all I can to live each and every moment knowing how precious our time here truly is.
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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.*

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Peace, Love, and Grief… The Last Thanksgiving

(Note: This was written prior to Thanksgiving, but since that was on my mind, I am posting as written vs rewording for this “after the holiday” posting.)

I think sometimes it is easy to forget how much we need each other. Yet, for me, I am reminded every single day when I wake up to face the empty side of the bed, how much I love and need the people around me. How important each on is to me… and how short and precious each moment is. I know that the next moment isn’t promised… which also means neither is the next Thanksgiving (or any other holiday).

I love the holidays. I haven’t always been able to say that, and it has definitely taken some time. However, I am learning to love them once again. Don’t misunderstand… holidays are still hard without Bruce, and there will always be a part of me that just wants to hide away. But… I also know that when I make myself push forward and spend time with the people I love, it is good.

This week, as I contemplate the upcoming holiday, I have found myself trying like crazy to remember my and Bruce’s last holiday together. It has taken longer than I thought, but as I get older, I guess those memories either start to run together or are lost somewhere in the recesses of my brain. So, it has taken a few days of racking my brain, but I have finally remembered…

In the years we lived in Michigan, (except for the first year), Bruce and I always spent Thanksgiving with his family. I love those memories – the food, the laughter, the teasing, the games, and (of course) all the love.

By the year 2012, though, we had lived in Florida for a few years and were still trying to figure out how we wanted to build our new holiday traditions down here… away from family. That was the year, we decided to go out to dinner rather than cooking a feast for only two people. I had tried to make a few reservations, but every place I called was full. I was ready to give up, but not Bruce.

One day at work, while listening to the radio, Bruce heard about some restaurant near the airport that still had openings, had great reviews, and would have TVs set up with football playing. LOL! Bruce was sold and came home to let me know we now had reservations.

Also, that year, my youngest daughter was going to be in town (at the parks) with her boyfriend’s family. They already had plans for most of the day, but we decided to all get together for breakfast. Then, they could go have fun in the parks, and we would have plenty of time before our dinner reservations to get hungry again.

Breakfast wasn’t fancy, but it was fun. We laughed and shared stories. Then, when it was over, I struggled… It was hard to say goodbye… I don’t think any of us could get enough hugs to last us until we would see each other again.

Bruce and I, then, spent time at one of the restaurants at Riverwalk – enjoying some wine and beer and (of course) some football. We took turns calling our folks to talk and wish everyone a wonderful holiday. It was very chill and really nice to just sit and enjoy each other. Dinner followed soon after. Then, we were back home getting ready for work the next day.

It wasn’t anything major… It was a pretty quiet holiday… But it was nice, and we were together. We got to see some family and talked to the rest. It wasn’t like before nor was it like the commercials on TV, but it was still nice… It was still us… together… We were content… We were happy.

And… We had no idea it would be our last Thanksgiving together. In my mind, it was just one more Thanksgiving in what was (and would continue to be) a long line of holidays spent together…

Now… this week, as I remember all of that… especially the part where we had no idea that it would be our last Thanksgiving, I know just how precious this time is. I know that four years ago, after spending a year fighting cancer, I had my own doubts about whether or not I would see another Thanksgiving… But I have… And the gift of that time with the people I love has meant the world to me.

I still struggle through the day… I know that on holidays, I tend to self-medicate (bad, I know) and get lost in my emotions. I know that I must work at being social. I know that my mind isn’t always focused on what is happening around me and I have to constantly remind myself to be present. Most of the time, in the past, it has felt like walking in a dream, where everyone else thinks all is well, but somehow I know it’s not… I don’t know if that makes sense, but it’s the best way I know to describe it. It’s just plain hard… and I’m still not good at it, but I am learning.

The other part of the holidays is the part leading up to it, which is why I am writing this now versus later… For people who are grieving, it seems like the anticipation of what is about to happen can oftentimes be harder than the actual event itself… Not always – but often. This week, it has been hard to keep myself from spiraling down. To constantly remind myself that I am not alone. That my kids and my family will be there… We will be together, and we will have fun… I can do this… I must do this.

So… Since I am writing this before the holiday, I hope yours is a good one. I pray you are able to focus on the love around you versus the empty seat at your table, because… let’s be honest… None of us knows if there will be another empty chair next year… And if that should happen, I don’t want to regret a holiday wasted on what was instead of what is…

Happy Thanksgiving and may God bless your day and those you love!
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All of us on this journey know that it isn’t easy. Congratulations to each of us for each day we have survived and moved ahead (especially the holidays). We know that loss can be traumatic, and the grief and life we are left to figure out is hard. We have learned that healing takes time… There is a lot of trial and error, and it moves at its own pace. Thankfully, though, there are moments and actions we can take to refresh our souls and guard our joy. There are also challenges where we learn that we are stronger than we think we are… Both of these provide moments where I learn a little bit more about faith, life, and love.

Thankfully, as the years pass, I can honestly say that there are more of good moments than bad. Each day, I continue to learn more and more about those things that seem to help me heal and move forward – like sharing precious memories. So, I will continue to allow myself the space I need to heal and process this life without my love… without Bruce. 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… Not a Day for Celebrating

“I haven’t heard your voice in years,
But my heart has conversations with you every day.”
~ all-greatquotes.com

It’s hard to believe another year has passed without him… Eight years… I have struggled with this reality this week, and my emotions are all over the place.

Mostly I miss him… I sit and listen to music that we always had playing here at home, (Jimmy Buffet, Kenny Chesney, Bob Marley, and Rod Stewart). Each song invokes another memory… A moment in time captured in my heart. This week, that has meant the tears well up in my eyes and slide slowly down my cheeks. At this point, it feels like all the air has been squeezed out of my lungs, and my heart hurts – literally hurts. I usually end up just sitting down on the floor, either trying to pull myself back together, or I find myself talking to Bruce and telling him how hard this is… And asking why he had to leave me here… without him.

I have also laughed this week as my family has shared stories and memories about this man we all loved. I love to hear my grandson, who was a mere three years old when Bruce died, tell a story about Bruce. More than likely, he is remembering stories he has been told, but to hear him tell them, makes me smile… Actually, it makes us all smile.

There has also been another emotion this week. One I used to feel a lot back in the beginning, (but was too ashamed to talk about). Not one I usually have now-a-days. Yet, I have definitely felt it more and more lately… I’m talking about anger. I’m mad. I haven’t been mad – really mad – at Bruce for dying in years. However, with the chaos happening in our country, I am.

I’m kind of ashamed to admit it, but I am…

When Bruce was here, I always called him my gentle giant… He was one of those people who wouldn’t hurt a flea. That is unless his family was threatened. Then, that was a different story. He would do whatever he felt was necessary to protect those he loved. It didn’t happen often, but more than once I watched as he did exactly that… It might mean something as small as installing additional locks around the house or putting himself between me and whatever threat he felt was around. Then again, it might mean taking on a group of men down in the islands with no thought to his odds since there were four of them and only one of him. Whatever it was, though, he seemed to always feel like it was his job to ensure that those he loved were safe.

This week as I have watched the news and all that has unfolded (so far), I am scared. I am scared of where all of this may lead… I’ve said for years, this was the direction we were heading, but I have prayed I was wrong… Evidently, I wasn’t… And now, I have to face whatever is coming without his protection… And I know it’s silly, but that makes me mad.

And I don’t understand…

Tomorrow will include a lot of memories from our last day together – from the kisses as we left for work in the morning to the kisses as we crawled into bed that night. Then, I have to face Tuesday… It will be 8 years since I awoke in the wee hours of the morning to the sounds of Bruce dying… Once again, I will relive those horrific hours of calling 911, doing CPR, the ride to the hospital, the doctor telling me he was gone, sitting with his body in disbelief, the ride back home, walking into the house, seeing the disarray left by EMS…. And wandering throughout the house, not knowing what to do… Not even sure if I could even take the next breath.

I always take these days off from work. I have to… Not to celebrate… This is not a day for celebrating. A celebration is the furthest thing from my mind. It is a day of absolute and total grief for me. It is day of trying to make sense of something that makes no sense. I don’t think it will matter how many years pass, this day will always be a reminder of how much I loved him… and how much I lost… A reminder that life can change in a breath, and the best we can do is to hang onto those we love while we can… because we never know what the next moment will bring.

I don’t think it really matters how long you loved someone… I think grief is more about how much you loved them. Each year, we must face the anniversary of that loss, and it is hard. It is a reminder that we are still here, and they aren’t. For some of us, this can create an emotional roller coaster. As for me, I thank you for the continued opportunity to share my feelings and experiences with you… (Like the ones this week.) It makes me feel as if 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.

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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

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