struggling – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief… When Things Get Tough

What a year! It is only May, and… WOW! 2023 has been rough… really rough… almost as hard as 2013, (the year Bruce died), but not quite.

I have lost so much this year. I have lost family, and I have lost friends… And my heart is ripped to shreds. I am almost to the point of never wanting to answer my phone or venture out into the world again, (but I am hanging in there for now).

I know this is just the way life is… In fact, I can’t tell you how many times I used to tell my kids, “life isn’t fair”, because it isn’t – not always. Sometimes, life is wonderful – full of promise and blessings. Other times, it is not… Sometimes it feels desperate and hard – like there is no way out… no light at the end of the tunnel. Yet, I know, somehow it all works out in the end… I just need to hang onto that.

While speaking to my counselor this week, I told her about the grief and depression, and how overwhelmed I feel lately. It has gotten so all-encompassing, I can’t seem to hold my focus on anything… Shoot, even in our short 30-minute session, I lost my train of thought three times (that I can recall), and she had to prompt me on what I was talking about. She was so kind and patient. Like a good counselor, though, she never tells me what to do or think… She simply states the facts back to me, asks great questions, and gives suggestions on how I might work through some of this.

I think this week’s struggles have had a lot to do with some not-so-good news I received last week. Nothing devastating or urgent. However, I definitely have some major decisions to make in the next few weeks and none of the options feel great. So, for now, I am in limbo, waiting… and praying that some small piece of wisdom enters my mind and puts my soul at peace with a decision.

Of course, through it all, you know what I have wished for, right? Yep… Bruce!

I wish he were here… I would give anything to feel his arms around me, telling me that whatever I decide, it will be okay… or to have his input… To hear him not tell me what to do, but to ask me the questions that allow me to walk through each possibility to determine which choice is right for me. He was always so good at that… Helping me look past what other people want or expect, and instead, focus on what I need with a clear understanding of how that choice may or may not affect others. Ultimately, though, making the choice that works best for me… God, how I miss that!

For now, I think “acceptance” is what I need to work on…

“Acceptance. That’s where many struggle. As long as they keep saying, ‘Life isn’t supposed to work like this,’ they’re stuck in their confusion and pain. Once they can say, ‘This is the way life is,’ they no longer need to answer the question.” ~ Cecil Murphy, My Parents, My Children

… To not worry and stress about what to do as much as remembering not to give up hope… To sit in the quiet and let go of all the worries that keep tumbling around in my head… And to know that the answers will come in their own time.
_________________________________________________________
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.

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.

Peace, Love, and Grief… Heartbreak

“I want to dig a hole with my bare hands and stay there in a field and in the damp cold, and tell the world that I am so angry, so sad, so longing, I can hardly breathe.” ~ Sarah Bessey, Out of Sorts

It is just a few days until the 9th anniversary of Bruce’s death, and I am struggling. I have cried more in the last week, than I can remember for a long time. I may tell the world I am fine… But on the inside, I am crumbling… absolutely crumbling.

Even though that date is still a few days away, already that seems to be the one thing I can’t stop thinking about. It’s so strange, I know. One minute I feel okay – I may even be laughing – and the next, all I want to do is cry… That’s all I really want to do – just let go and cry… and cry… and cry… until there are no more tears left to cry.

All I can think about is that night… Watching him die… trying everything I knew to help him… but failing… I failed! I called 911, did CPR, watched as EMS took over… And yet, that damn line on that machine stayed flat. No matter what they tried, it never moved. He was gone… I knew he was gone, but I didn’t want to know.

I remember the ride to the hospital, and the doctor’s words, “He’s gone.” I remember all of it – the lights, the smells, all the different people sent to “comfort” me… But there was no comfort. It was more like walking through a bad dream. You know that kind I’m talking about? The kind of dream where everything is just awful, and no matter how hard you try, you just can’t wake up. Everyone around you is busy and talking, as if everything were absolutely normal. But you know… it’s all wrong…

And it still feels that way. It still feels wrong to be here without him.

I hate this… I really do. I have so much I want to tell him… so much I want to share with him… But I can’t… And when I remember that I hurt and I cry all over again. The total despair I have felt since that night… the despair I can’t seem to shake seems to haunt the corners of every thought during this time of year.

Everyone else is talking about the new year and resolutions and new beginnings… And all I can think is I just need to survive this again… My world will never know the kind of joy we shared again… And when I realize that MY. HEART. HURTS.

It seems like every year, (even though on all the other days, I feel I am doing better), these days are a struggle. They are a reminder of my greatest loss… and my greatest failure.

I know I need to pull myself together. I need to make myself think of other things. Yet, I think that in order to pick up the pieces of my heart and move forward, I may need to let myself spend a few days feeling what I feel without worrying about what someone else thinks.

Yes… it has been nine years. At the same time, though, it still hurts like it was yesterday. I don’t know how to stop that hurt… All I know is I still love him… And I believe I will always love him.

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 time of year, for me, it is 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 next few week will hold a huge challenge for me. My goal 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.

Peace, Love and Grief… Things You Taught Me, Part 1

I spent this last week at a spiritual retreat on the coast of Georgia. What a blessing! It was a week of quiet and deep self-reflection. It was a time to think and process without all the noise of daily life and routines… And more important, it was a week of healing. Over the next few weeks, I hope you will humor me, as I share some of what I experienced there and how it has impacted my grief for Bruce and this path we call life…

I spent most of my life caught up in a religion of rules and exclusivity… A religion of “believe or burn” … a religion of fear and distrust… At least, that was the way I experienced it. While I had made my fair share of mistakes, I thought I was doing okay… I was trying to be “devout” and do the “right things.” Then Bruce died, and my world fell apart…

How could a God who loved me, give me this wonderful gift of a man and then just as quickly take it away? Why would he do that? What kind of love is that?

I struggled with those questions (and more)… My grief journey soon included not only my grief for the loss of Bruce, but also, a grief for the loss of my faith. Bruce was gone… My faith and trust in God were gone. I wanted Bruce back more than anything else, but my faith wasn’t something I wanted to think about… I was done.

However, several months later, I had a dream – a dream that started this journey and led me back home to a place in my soul where I had never been before.

Day 1 Reflections:

Hi Babe,
I am supposed to be thinking about whether or not I believe God made me for himself, and if I believe God is big enough for me… That is a big question.

Years ago, I would have said, “No.” After you died, the God I had been taught to believe in was not enough… because I was not enough. I didn’t believe he loved me as I was… And that led to more confusion. I couldn’t understand why he made me (or any of us) at all, if he couldn’t love me as he made me (flawed and imperfect). If I can love my own child – flaws and all, why couldn’t he do the same with me? So, no… I didn’t trust him – not at all.

Then in a dream, you told me, “God is not the God of your parents. He is so much more… And he loves you. He created all of you… each part, and he loves all of you.”

It took me years to move past a concrete religion to a spiritual faith… And you led me there, Babe. Through your legacy, you led me to speakers and books that slowly showed me a different way to believe in God. Now… finally, your statement made early in our relationship makes sense… “Yes,” you said, “I am a Christian, but not in the same way you are.” At the time, I prayed for your soul… When honestly, you had the answer I needed.

Thank you for being my teacher, especially over these past six years.

Dear God, my love,
Thank you for this morning. Thank you for a faith of connection and love versus do’s and don’ts/who’s in and who’s out. Thank you for all the things that led me to this place… on this day… with these people. I am here this week, learning that I am not alone… That is my miracle today, and I am so very thankful. It is so wonderful to know, I really can trust you, even when life feels like it is falling apart around me… I just had to find you. No, you found me (when I was ready). And as you told me, “Linda, don’t worry. If you miss me (and I did for so long), I will find you… And you did.
I love you… Always and Forever!

It’s funny how those we love can still direct us even after they are gone. Bruce left a legacy that I am still unraveling and is still influencing my life… That is a blessing I never expected or knew could exist!

What about you? Have you ever found yourself reading their books, listening to their music or the things that influenced their lives? What have you learned? This journey can be so very hard, but it is even harder to bear alone. I believe we are in this together. None of us are alone, because we have each other. Please feel free to reach out and share your story or thoughts. To do so, go to the comments and leave 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

Thank you.

Peace, Love and Grief… The perfect Christmas

As I write this week, it is still several days before Christmas. I am off work and enjoying a few precious moments of quiet. As I sit here, signs of this year’s Christmas season are all around me… the tree, the lights, decorations, nativity sets, Mickey (our Elf on the Shelf), the Advent wreath and of course, Christmas music playing in the background… sounds like the setting for the perfect Christmas special or commercial.

That really makes me laugh, because these few quiet moments are not the norm… I don’t know about everyone, but many of us find our holidays filled with chaos, noise, shopping, and go-here-go-there craziness. I believe it’s the reason we all laugh at the Grinch’s frustration with the Christmas season… We completely understand how he feels, because we live it!

But why do we do it? For whatever reason, we seem to have bought into the Hollywood version of a “perfect Christmas,” and, we seem to believe we can create that perfection by all this “doing. Personally, I think we have been led horribly astray.

As I have written several times, I spent my first Christmas without Bruce trying to ignore the holiday. Without him, I knew I would never have the perfect Christmas… Without him, I didn’t want any Christmas at all. It was going to be too hard… There would be too much pain involved. So, instead, I sat on the sidelines watching everyone else “do” the Christmas dance… too busy to notice anyone who might not be celebrating… anyone who might be hurting.

The strangest part was I knew that had been me for so many years, as well. It was quite the eye opener. It didn’t take me long to realize all those years when I was trying to achieve the “perfect Christmas,” I always seemed to fall short… until Bruce.

Bruce lived such a simple life… “Things” were not important to him – people were… And Christmas was no different. He loved the decorating and the music, but he wasn’t willing to participate in all the craziness, shopping crowds and running around.

When we lived in Michigan, Christmas was about family. Sure, we woke up and exchanged a couple of gifts, but the excitement was centered around going to his folk’s house for the day… Nothing fancy – just lots of delicious food, great conversation, family games and tons of laughter.

When we moved to Florida, that tradition was gone… At first, we floundered to create new ones… Okay, actually, I was panicked that Christmas would be “ruined,” but Bruce took it all in stride. He simply created new traditions that sometimes included friends or family who were visiting and other times only included the two of us. Yet, it never seemed to matter. Somehow, Bruce who never got caught up in all the hoopla always managed to create the perfect Christmas.

I think that was the reason for my anxiety that first year without him… How could I do that without him?… I was pretty sure I couldn’t, so I didn’t even try. The next few years, I gave a little more effort to celebrate, and while those years were good, it wasn’t the same… However, the scary part was I found myself “doing” more and more to create the “perfect Christmas,” even when I knew that wasn’t the answer.

This year, having a child in the house has brought a lot more “doing” into our house, as well. I find myself wanting to create the “perfect Christmas” for him. Yet, the more I “do,” the less perfect it feels. Then, this week it hit me – something Bruce figured out a long time ago and lived daily… not just at Christmas…

This is not a perfect world and there is no “perfect Christmas.”

If this world were perfect, there would have been no need for the birth of that little baby 2000 years ago. Yet, even He didn’t come to make this world perfect… He simply came to bring us love… To show us what it looks and feels like when love is real and genuine.

Two thousand years later, that is all we need to do… love. To create the perfect Christmas, we don’t need to “do” all the things on a list dictated by the world around us…

Instead, simply do the things that bring you joy and make it easier for you to show others you love them… The rest of it? Let it go!

I still miss Bruce every day, and it is unlikely my world will ever feel “perfect” again without him. But, I am learning I don’t need a perfect world… Instead, I can carry on the legacy Bruce left behind. I can let go of impossible, exhausting expectations, and replace them with simple, quiet moments filled with love…

The same love that filled a manger over 2000 years ago.

With that in mind, my prayer for all of us this Christmas continues to be…

“May we each take the time to love, laugh and celebrate… May we slow down and reach out to those around us who may be hurting… May we be willing to simply hold a hand, give a hug, or listen…”
“May each of us be willing to simply BE the love and acceptance each of us is seeking from the world around us.”

Merry Christmas from my imperfect, love-filled home to yours!

If you are struggling with celebrating the holidays after your loss, please let us all be there for you. If you have any ideas that have helped you through the holidays, please share them here for others. This is our community… Let’s reach out and be the compassion we each seek.

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… Decorating and grief

Note: Just moments before posting my blog last week, we had a “milk meets computer” incident. Thank you for your patience as we worked to get back up and running this week.

For anyone grieving, the holidays are tough… They just are. I wish I could share some great “tricks” to help you through this time, but honestly, there are none.

The first year, (as I’ve told you before), I completely ignored the holiday. I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t do it. There were some who tried to push the holiday on me by inviting me over to surprise me with their decorations and music… That didn’t work. In fact, it only upset me more. There were others who tried the guilt approach by reminding me that the holiday is based on faith, and is not about me or Bruce at all. While true, it is still a holiday with traditions built around those we love, so this didn’t work either. In fact, it actually just made me question my faith.

The bottom line was – I wasn’t ready. Grief is one of those things that is different for everyone. We each need to go at it in our own way… and in our own time. While I knew this in my gut, it was difficult to express it in such a way that others could understand.

The next year was slightly different… I felt braver… I wanted to participate in Christmas. I remember…

Journal Entry – Dec 2, 2014
“Hi Babe… feeling down… really struggling and missing you. Yesterday was okay – good actually… Until I started some Christmas decorating last night. : ( I thought I was ready. I thought I would be okay, but it broke me. I didn’t do Christmas last year, so this is my first time unpacking this stuff since you died. And since this box represents our last few weeks together, the memories are bittersweet and the tears seem to be endless. All I managed to get out were two nativity sets, the light brick and the stocking holders. (What am I going to do with those?) Hang one stocking? Do I hang yours? I don’t know what to do there… What do I do? I cried myself to sleep and woke up still crying. I’m not very good at this whole widow/grief thing. I can’t seem to just “move on.” I still love and miss you so much! How can this be my life? How can you be gone? How does someone with so much love and life just cease to exist? I don’t think I will ever understand this.”

“I keep remembering how much you loved Christmas – all the decorations and the music… your big ole grin when you watched me decorate or when you put on the Christmas music; your big smile that first Christmas when you laid on your belly in the snow to cut down the tree my youngest had picked; how much you loved all the treats and how excited you got about getting me the “perfect” gift. You loved the fact that this season was all about family and that was what you celebrated. When we were in Michigan, your folks would be there for the whole month and we would spend as much time as possible with them. This was also the time we would spend a week with my family back home. All that is gone now… It was you, Babe. You brought the magic to our lives and now you’re gone. Now I don’t know what to do. I’m so lost… I thought I could do this, but now… I don’t know.”

It was hard that year, but I figured it out – I did hang both stockings. Beside Bruce’s, I placed a small box of paper and a pen. I used these to write down special memories of our Christmases together, and placed these in his stocking.

For me, this really helped. In fact, this has become my tradition. It means a lot to me to see his stocking still hanging there beside mine. In fact, I think it is the most active stocking hanging there.

Each year since Bruce passed has brought challenges of their own. It is always a moment by moment holiday – half survival… half celebration.

This year, however, has brought a new grief to the picture…

This year I have been blessed with a house full, as one of my daughters and my grandson now live with me. Last weekend we managed to set up the stockings, the Christmas china, several nativity sets, the Christmas village, and the tree with lights (but no decorations). It has been a festive week filled with laughter and music.

I’ve loved it. However, I’ve still had my private moments of tears… Of overwhelming memories and those moments when I know he would have loved spending this holiday with his little Boudreaux. For me this seems to always result in tears and missing Bruce down to my very core.

This weekend as we started to decorate the tree, grief reared its head again, but this time it was my grandson’s grief. As we pulled out ornaments, he wanted to hear the stories behind each one. He smiled and laughed and hung them on the tree… so excited. Until…

About halfway through the box, he pulled out an ornament with three snowmen – a Mommy, a Daddy and a baby – and under each one were their names… Just last Christmas, they had still been a family. As he held the ornament in his hands, his eyes filled with tears. Then, still clutching the ornament, he threw himself into his mother’s arms and wept.

He has only recently come to realize that divorce is forever… This has been a hard fact for him to accept. In fact, I believe he has only just started the real grief for the loss of his family as he knew it… And just like anyone grieving, he has a mix of emotions, which can be overwhelming for a little boy, especially at a moment like this.

On this particular night we held him and listened… simply listened as he cried and told us how he felt.

Then he asked if he could still hang that ornament because he loved the way it reminded him of his “old” family. I thought of Bruce’s stocking hanging just a few feet away for the very same reason… Then, my daughter and I looked at each other and without hesitation agreed.

In the days since that night, he has taken that ornament down, held it, cried and rehung it several times. It is his way of grieving this holiday… and just as I learned with my own grief…

We all have to go at it in our own way and in our own time… I still need to hang Bruce’s stocking and my grandson needs to hold an ornament… and that’s okay.

If you are struggling this holiday season, please be kind to yourself. Do what you feel is right for you… and simply let the rest go.

If you are struggling with celebrating the holidays after your loss, please let us all be there for you. If you have any ideas that have helped you through the holidays, please share them here for others. This is our community… Let’s reach out and be the compassion we each seek.

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