Tag: quiet

Peace, Love and Grief… Happy Birthday to You!

Before Bruce died, we always spent his birthday week with his folks on the Gulf Coast. He didn’t like parties or being the center of attention, so it was a great way to celebrate his birthday – just some chill time by the ocean surrounded by people he loved.

Once we moved to Florida, we started driving (versus flying) and would split the trip into two days. Bruce found this quaint, little hotel on the Apalachicola River where we loved to stay. The hotel was built on pilings and literally sat on the river. It was absolutely magical, and we loved it there!

This year as I was planning where to go for his birthday, I knew that was the spot… That was where I wanted to go. But, to save my life, I couldn’t remember the name of the hotel, so I went on a hunt. It didn’t take too long – just a couple of evenings on the internet… And I made my reservations.

As this week approached (with everything else going on), I began to worry… What if it wasn’t how I remembered? What if I got there and the memories were too much? I almost talked myself out of going… Almost… but not entirely.

I couldn’t remember the exact route Bruce would take to drive there. (I’m ashamed to say) I was never the one driving so I never paid attention to road names or the towns we passed through. But, I knew he didn’t take the direct route… He always took the back roads… So, Google could not be my navigator. I remembered the ocean was only feet from the road… For me, this part of the ride was as much a part of the experience as anything else. So, I went on line and just started looking at maps… (WOW! Who uses those anymore… LOL!) And I found it!

Then on Thursday, with my hand-written directions, some snacks and my luggage, I set off for my “Bruce’s Birthday Adventure”…

And it was fabulous!!

This river-front hotel and this small fishing town have not changed a lick! I was able to enjoy the most peaceful, quiet few days celebrating and remembering the man I love… The man who changed my life…

Hi, Babe! Happy Birthday! Just watching the magic of the sunrise on this precious day. I can’t believe the beauty surrounding me this morning. It’s as if the world took all that is you – all the love, strength, acceptance, joy and compassion – and made them physical within this sunrise… This daily miracle, which is mostly ignored. It started dark and quiet. Now, we are at first light, and life is waking up on the river. I can feel you here beside me – a smile on your face and coffee in your hand. : ) Quiet and strong, like the river at my feet. Life is so hectic lately, but it is in these quiet moments where I find my bearings. I’m not sure how this whole cancer thing is going to go – so far it is a chaotic mess. But, if I can manage to find these beautiful still moments with you along the way. I know I’ll be okay… I’ll manage through “whatever” as long as I can still feel you. I still love you so much. Today is yours and yet it feels like a gift to me… The day my angel landed in this world – soon to walk by my side and hold me in his arms… Even if it was only a brief moment in time, it was our moment… And it is where my heart remains.
~ Linda, April 2018

As I checked out to head home, the woman said, “Hope to you again next year!” Hmmm… Will I come back next year? Honestly, I don’t know… but I know it is where I was meant to be this year… And I have found a peace here that I desperately needed as I face the storm ahead.

Celebrating the lives of our loved ones seems to be an important part of this journey. I have to deal with Bruce’s death (I can’t avoid that part) but I want to focus on his life, because that holds everything good about him… That is where he loved us and where he made a difference. I know each of us remembers our loved ones differently – in our own way and in our own time. Today’s blog is simply my way of celebrating Bruce this year. Maybe this feels familiar… If so, we are here, you are not alone. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. *

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

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Peace, Love and Grief… Growing accustomed to the loneliness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am still growing accustomed to the loneliness…

Do you also know this feeling? Have you been where I am? Please feel free to share your thoughts and experiences, too. To do so, go to the comments and leave a note.*

Who knows… you may hold the answer for someone or just sharing an emotion can make us feel validated and bring us closer.

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

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

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