support – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – My Yayas

This past week, according to the calendar, we celebrated International Women’s Day on Friday. I love this day. Not simply because I am a woman, but because it is a reminder to celebrate all of the wonderful women who have guided me and/or traveled alongside me on this journey. These women are my tribe. They are my yayas.

I know. What are “yayas”?

Well, in ancient Greece, yaya literally meant “woman”. In later years and other cultures, it came to mean one’s mother, grandmother, or even a female priestess. In a deeper perspective, one could say this word “represents the highest form of woman, achieved only through initiation, experience, and longevity.” (1) In more modern terms, yayas are defined as “a group of three of more women whose hearts and souls are joined together by laughter and tears shared through the glorious journey of life.” (2) This is the definition, I am using today when I say, “I am so very thankful for my yayas!”

Not all of my yayas are widows. In fact, that term would only apply to a tiny handful. However, that doesn’t mean the rest of my tribe haven’t known loss or pain… They have… They all have in one form or another. They have all known the pain that comes from deep-rooted loss… And while this isn’t what joins us together, it is what inspires them to travel with me on this journey, whether that is for one or two steps or for much longer.

They all seem to understand that “we must climb the hard side of the bridge to come down on the other side.” (3) They also understand that it is easier to climb that “hard side of the bridge” when you are not alone. Just having someone to lean on every now and then makes such a difference on that “hard side”. I can’t tell you how many times, on this journey, I thought I was alone. I would have sworn I was completely alone… but I wasn’t. They were there… In some form or fashion, they were right there.

Even though I might not have recognized that they were there at the time, I know without a doubt that they were. I know this because I also know that I could not have survived this journey without them… I struggled a lot in the beginning. I did not want to be here without Bruce. So, I know that each and every one of them made a tremendous difference in my journey.

Each one, at some point stepped up and took their place beside me. Some have coached me. Some have cried with me. Some have picked me up off the ground when I didn’t think I could take another step. Some showed me how to laugh again, and others showed me how to run head-long into the wind. The point is each one had a strength and a gift to offer that helped me get where I am today.

Research tells us that women do something that men don’t do. When times are hard, when our souls feel completely diminished, women will reach out to each other. We know and understand the strength that comes to each of us when we join together and hold each other up.

This is not something most men do. According to this same research, men tend to hide their hurt, and tuck it away. The idea of calling up their buddies to discuss their emotions and pain, is generally not done in male culture. (I’m not saying always – I’m saying generally.)

Maybe that is why women live longer… Because we share our burdens rather than struggle alone. I don’t know… I’m just guessing. But I do know this… If it weren’t for my yayas, I would not still be here. I could not have managed the pain of grief by myself.

These women are my heroes. They are my family, and they are my friends. They are my spiritual sisters and my beacons of light when the path seems pitch black.

They are my yayas… And I am forever grateful for every single one.

1 – Mom.com

2 – The Oogie Boogie Witch, FaceBook

3 – Unknown
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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

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Peace, Love, and Grief… My Heroes

I am well aware that I spend a lot of time talking about the challenges of grief and being a widow. I am sure it can come across as “poor me”, but that really isn’t my mindset.

Sure… Being a widow sucks… Losing Bruce sucks… I have my hard days/moments when I hate this whole thing and can feel pretty sorry for myself. You see, there are definite scenarios that most people who grieve have (or will) encounter… and some are not so good. I write a lot about these… Not to go on a pity rant, but to share my experiences week to week in an attempt to help anyone in the same boat know that their own experiences/thoughts/feelings are all “normal”. (As if anything about grief is “normal”.)

Personally, I remember when I started on this journey, I needed to hear other people’s stories, in order to make sense of my own. That is why I write this. So, I hope that makes sense.

That being said, today I want to talk about something a little bit different… I want to talk about the many heroes I have encountered on this journey… If nothing else, it can serve as a reminder to look for the positives, right?

There were heroes sent to me from the very beginning. First, there was the police officer who drove me to and from the hospital that awful night. He was young, and I can’t even imagine if he ever had to drive someone in a similar situation to the hospital. Did he already know Bruce was dead? Given that we waited for him to arrive to our home before the ambulance left for the hospital, I would guess – yes. Besides, I know he heard me calling my parents from the backseat and saying, “I think Bruce is dead.” I don’t remember much more about that ride.

However, I do know he walked me into the ER and explained who I was, because I was in shock. Then, he sat with me… the entire time I was at the hospital, he stayed close by – a strong, secure, quiet presence… I didn’t know it at the time, but I needed that. And when he finally drove me back home, he took his time, and gave me some safety advice about living alone… my “new normal”.

The next few heroes on this path were the family and friends who came as soon as they got the message. I remember my boss, at the time, was the first one here (at 3 am). I don’t remember any of our conversation, but I know she stayed with me until my son arrived several hours later.

Then, the rest of my family and Bruce’s family all arrived within the next several hours… (Heroes – all of them!) And from the moment she arrived, my dear sweet sister never left my side. She slept with me those first several nights and held me (or my hand) – simply to remind me that I wasn’t alone… I didn’t need to do this alone.

There is also Bruce’s family… Everything I have read says to expect the spouse’s family to eventually fade out of your life. I love them so much and was terrified of losing that connection. But no…Through the years, they have remained fiercely by my side – reminding me constantly that they are my family too… And I am theirs.

Through the years, there have been heroes who have held me up – some without ever knowing it and others in the most simple of ways, such as a kind message of love and encouragement. For example, one of my fellow teachers from my school in SC has consistently sent me messages of encouragement and reminders that I remain always in her prayers. I thank God for her… Those messages have gotten me through some truly rough days.

There are also people I supervised years ago in Michigan who sent me a “comfort blanket” last year. It has become my absolute favorite, snuggle blanket. I am all about textures, so when I am down, I find great comfort in it’s warmth and softness, as I remember that I am loved.

Of course, no list would be complete without mentioning my kids and my grandson. With the exception of one of my daughters (who happens to live in another country and I talk to weekly), all the rest live within an hour or two. All of them never fail to hold me up on those tough days, like holidays and anniversaries. If I want to be alone, they respect that. If I need company, they are happy to be here. Either way, they make sure I know I am loved… That means the world to me!

There are also my work friends, who are always willing to give me a big bear hug whenever needed. As well as my FB friends whose motivational posts can usually touch my heart when it is most needed. I even have one friend who is currently sharing her mental health journey. She was one of my first mentors in the corporate world, and here she is again leading with her own courage… And I am paying attention.

Finally, there are the people who have no idea what they mean to me… This includes my new woman’s group, my therapist, and so many others… You know what I mean – those people who never knew Bruce, but who genuinely care about me as a woman and where my heart is.

I think that is it… Not the end of the list, (because I am sure I have left off so many more)… But that is the point… These people… All of these people genuinely care about me and where my heart is… I am so thankful for and to each person who has supported me when I couldn’t support myself. All of you who have been patient in helping me learn to live life again. Each and every one of you is my hero… And I love you dearly!
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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.

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… Is Grief Really a Sin?

Just a few weeks after Bruce died, I started attending a “grief support” group in town. The truth is, though, it wasn’t really a support group. It was really a class (about eight weeks long) that met monthly at a church in town. (Because we should all be over our grief within eight weeks, right?) And while there were some really good pointers about emotions and changes to expect, there was a lot of that particular church’s dogma sprinkled in. For the most part, I ignored the dogma. I say “for the most part” because there were some things that were just plain hurtful, such as not allowing me pray out loud since I wasn’t a member of said church or insisting that their translation or interpretation of a particular verse was the only valid one. (insert many eye rolls here)

Instead, I chose to soak in the all of the other information – the real reason I was there to begin with. Then about week 6 (or so), the big “lesson” was the idea that “grief is a sin”. Period… end of discussion as far as the leader was concerned… but not so much for me. I was angry… really angry. So angry, in fact, I never returned… That was not what I needed. That was not support. The last thing a grieving person needs is guilt about their feelings of loss. That is a kind of crazy I was not interested in at all!

However, that little tidbit of “religious opinion” didn’t stop there. About that same time, while it had only been a couple of months, since Bruce died, I started hearing versions of this same opinion from a (very) few people around me. My response to their callousness depended completely on how I was handling my own grief in that moment. Most of the time, I just chose to separate myself from the situation for a time. (A “relationship vacation” is what I called it.) However, there were a few times where I let my opposing opinion be known with no doubt about what I thought.

So why am bringing this up now, so many years later?

Because it still comes up in my world… and it still hits me wrong and makes me angry. This last week, for example, I was reading a book on forgiveness. Somehow, the author got onto the topic of loss and grief and the emotions involved… Suddenly, there it was again… She went to that place where she stated that grief is a sin.

In her thought process, she said the same things I have been hearing for years… That emotions such as anxiety, worry, grief are all “sin” since they “demonstrate a lack of trust in God’s plan.” Argh!! Seriously?? That is infuriating! Anxiety, worry, and grief (just like joy, happiness, and contentment) are all just a part of our gamut of emotions we have humans… Nothing more… Nothing less.

You see, I believe that when we go around judging someone else’s struggles as a measurement of their faith, we are doing irreputable damage. Those religious “wisdoms” can drive people (people that we supposedly love) to push down their emotions and pretend they aren’t there rather than deal with them. And while I am sure there will be people who disagree with me, I firmly believe that God has never judged me in my grief, even when I was so angry I was shouting, cursing, and shaking my fist heavenward.

After all, God made me human. God gave me all of these emotions. Having those emotions and working through those emotions is called growth… I’m not sure what to called it when you don’t do that, but I can guarantee it isn’t healthy in the long run.

So… Here is my take on the whole thing whenever someone wants to tell me that this grief (and all it encompasses) is a sin… Life isn’t a tidy package all wrapped up with a pretty bow. Even when faith or religion are a part of your life, it’s still not easy or neat and tidy. It is a journey… for all of us.

In fact, the same author I was mentioning earlier even says that “Undealt-with pain and a mind at peace cannot coexist.” * This is exactly what I am saying… All of these emotions, even grief, must be acknowledged and dealt with… They have to be faced head on… And calling them a sin doesn’t promote that healthy healing we need for our self-development.

Besides, “If we have any chance at all of living at peace with others, we’ve got to first live at peace within ourselves.” * And that is exactly what I am working on…

* Lysa Terkeurst, Forgiving What You Can’t Forget

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

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

Peace, Love, and Grief… Support

After Bruce died, I knew I couldn’t do this thing alone. I knew I was struggling. I knew I needed support. So, one of the first things I did was to look for a grief support group. Most of the groups in my town met during the day, and since I was already back at work, that wouldn’t work for me. However, there was one group, a national grief support program, being offered at a church in my town. Admittedly, I was very angry with God at that point and not very thrilled about the religious aspect. At the same time, it didn’t sour me on the idea, and so I went.

From day one, it was made quite clear that because I was not a member of that church, my faith (and my anger at God), were immediately suspect. To be fair, I know a lot of people who have been through this program in other towns and found it quite helpful. However, in my experience here, this program was presented in such a way that that particular church’s dogma became interwoven and rather than being helpful, it became quite offensive. I wasn’t allowed to pray out loud, and was constantly being told that their Biblical interpretations were the only right ones. In fact, the night that I decided I had had enough, was the night they told me that my grief was a sin, and it was offensive to God… That was it! I just couldn’t do it anymore. I was done. I may not have the best self-esteem on the planet, but even I knew that was crap (for lack of a better word). Even my own self-compassion told me that was not support… That was not what I was looking for or what I needed.

So… Let’s talk a little bit about support today? What is isn’t… and what it is…

I can remember so many phrases that have been used through the years that, honestly, were not supportive. Some have been religious in nature and were used mainly in the first few months. These included things like:
“God needed another angel.” (Nope! I don’t think so.)
Or
“He is in a better place.” (Well, let me tell you, it’s not better for me.)

There are a thousand more like these, but you get the picture…

Then there are the phrases intended to give me “grief advice” that have continued through the years. These include things like:
“You need to move on.” (Seriously? Don’t you think I would if I knew how?)
Or
“You’re not the first person to go through this. You need to get past it.” (Yes, I know… But again, empty words, my friend, … empty words.)

Then there are the people who just drop out of your world. I get it (kind of) … This grief thing is very uncomfortable… Trust me! I’m in the middle of it. I know exactly how uncomfortable it can be. The thing is, when someone chooses to walk away, because my grief is hard for them to witness, then I have learned just how misplaced my trust and friendship were with that person. So… go… But please, don’t show back up months or years later and think we can pick up where you left. I have had the added grief of losing that friendship… And I’m not real interested in going through all of that again when things get hard again (and they will because that is just a part of life).

Then, there are the people who just want to pretend that this grief thing never happened. These people struggle to accept that because this loss, I am different… But look at me… I have changed. I can’t be who I was, because that person no longer exists. When I say “I can’t” or try to do what is emotionally healthiest for me, their response seems to fluctuate between impatience and downright anger. (I just don’t get this one at all.)

Trust me… All of these things… not supportive. But, thankfully, that’s not the end…

There are also the things that are supportive… And, honestly, it is a shorter list and requires way less energy…

As far as what to say… First of all, please realize that there is nothing anyone can say to really make it better. If one feels they must say something, the following felt much more supportive (to me):
“I am sorry” or “I hate this for you.” (Thank you… Me too!)
Or
“There are no words, but I’m here.” (Thank God, because I can’t do this by myself!)

Honestly, though, you don’t need to say anything. Just sit with me… Just walk beside me for a bit… or as the characters on Grey’s Anatomy did when their friend was grieving “lay on the bathroom floor with me.” (Figuratively, of course.)

As far as the rest goes… Please keep your judgements about what I should do or not do, how I should feel or not feel, etc. to yourself… Please… Just allow me some space and some compassion… Allow me to even have some self-compassion. Let me know that you support those things that help me heal, no matter how slowly (or how silly they may seem)… whether these things include tears or writing or small ceremonies on special days… or anything else…

I guess what I’m trying to say is that we aren’t looking for anyone to “fix” it or “fix” us… That can’t be done. We have to figure this out one breath at a time… All we really need from everyone else is your love and your compassion… And that’s it… That is support.

This grief thing really IS hard, and honestly, while I have learned a lot, I still hate it. There are more good days than there used to be, but I still constantly find myself wishing for the past. Grief has changed me in ways I could never have prepared for, and in ways no one else might understand. Life on this path is sometimes filled with challenges I never imagined. And each time I think I have it figured out, something happens, and I find I haven’t figured it out at all. However, finding ways to stay grounded and remembering how blessed I am to have known Bruce’s love (even for a short time) has been my path to survival and healing. At this point in my journey, I am learning that while I remember the past, I must also keep looking at this life before me and recognizing the joy, love, and hope it still holds… Then, learning to hold onto that with everything I have.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… My Grove

Most of us have heard of the infamous redwood trees of northern California. They are some of the tallest trees in the world. These trees can reach heights of over 350 feet tall. This last week, however, I learned something new (to me) about these amazing trees. While their height is incredible, their root system is actually quite shallow. There is no tap root. In fact, their root system is only six – twelve feet deep, with a typical root only about one inch in diameter.

So, considering their size and lifespan, (these trees can live up to 2000 years), how on earth, (no pun intended), do they manage to stay upright? That seems impossible to me.

But here’s the trick… The root system on these trees spreads outward about 50 – 80 feet, and these trees grow in groves. In other words, their roots end up intermingling with each other, and they literally hold each other up! How amazing! And what a lesson for me!

There have been so many times in my life when things got tough, and I tried to go it alone only to find I couldn’t… I need the support of those around me… Those who love and care for me…In other words, I need my grove to hold me up, too.

When Bruce died, if not for the support of the people around me, I don’t know if I would have found my way out of the depression that accompanied my grief. The crazy thing is not only were they there for me, but I was there for them. What?

Yes… There were many times when I couldn’t figure out why I was still here without Bruce, when someone I love would call or come by because they needed me. Maybe all they needed was a listening hear or a hug, or maybe they actually needed a hand with something… It didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that I was needed… There was a reason I am still here, and that was important… It helped me as much (if not more) than it helped them.

This latest turn in my path has found me dependent on the people around me once again. Only this time, it has been mostly physical dependence. There are so many things I just can’t do right now due to the restrictions that go along with my treatments. But that’s really not all… This crazy cancer thing has taken a toll on me emotionally, as well.

In fact, this morning I found myself in tears… This Tuesday will be round three of chemo. While it hasn’t been as bad as I thought it would be, each round leaves me feeling like I have the flu, plus all the other side effects which seem to switch and change with each dose.

I was trying to explain my dread to someone this week… I’ve had the flu, but only twice in my adult life that I can remember. I remember it was terrible. But since there was a lot of time between bouts, I didn’t remember exactly what it was like when I got sick the second time. Plus, I didn’t know it was coming. But this… I know this is coming, and the memory is fresh… I am barely recovering from one dose when it is time for the next.

To be honest, I am already tired… Just thinking of doing this again (and again…) makes me cry. It probably sounds terrible, but I’m just over it… I don’t want to do this again. I am at a point where I just want to quit… And that is where my tears came from this morning.

I found myself thinking if Bruce were here, he would have a way of making me feel like we could do this… I know him… He would make me feel like he was carrying a part of this burden, as well. Then, I started thinking about why I agreed to do all this crazy treatment in the first place…

It is because I have people who love and care for me… I need them, and they need me. Our roots are as intermingled as those huge redwoods… And this week, as I go through another round of chemical cocktails and the after effects that linger for weeks, they will be here… They can’t do it for me, but I am not alone…

I have a grove to hold me up through this coming storm… And our love for each other is greater than my fear of what is ahead.

What about you? Did you or have you ever struggled with the idea of facing something that feels overwhelming? How did you come to terms with it? Or do you still need support in that area? Would you be willing to share your story or your thoughts?

We all know this isn’t easy, but you aren’t alone! We are here… Let us be your grove.

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… Grieving Differently

(To my own family – This is not a rant or accusation. It was driven by observing my own behaviors. Please know I am so sorry for any pain or hurt I have caused… I am so thankful for each of you and love you more than I can possibly express here!)

Everyone grieves differently… We have all heard that. Yet, knowing it and living it can be two different things… As with most experiences in life, we all approach grief from a different angle, because we are different. Even people in the same family will approach grief differently, and sometimes that is the hardest – to allow those we love to experience grief in a different manner from our own.

When you lose someone you love, everything you read and hear tells you to find support. For many of us, there is the assumption that our family will be the best space to find that support. And in some ways, that is true… But in other ways, the fact that we are family can actually make supporting each other harder.

Keep in mind, if it is a situation where everyone is grieving the same loss… the same person, then everyone is hurting… Everyone is looking for support and trying to make sense of something that quite frankly, may not ever make sense. Maybe we are so caught up in our own pain, that we forget to leave space for understanding and compromise towards those we love most. Instead, there can be an underlying feeling that we should all be grieving in the same way and healing at the same pace…

But we don’t. Even in the same family, we have different personalities and life experiences… And despite being in the same family, we are each grieving the loss of a different relationship.

This is not a rant… I am referring to all of us… myself especially. For if I am honest, I must admit I have felt this way, too. As with everything else in grief, this part of the journey is a roller coaster, too… Not always one way, yet not always the other way either. There are days when I can easily be the one offering support and able to listen. While I may not completely understand what someone else is thinking and feeling, I can empathize and recognize their grief as being just as legitimate as my own.

Yet, there are just as many days when I want to scream and yell that I am hurting, too – and in that moment, my pain feels worse than anyone else’s possibly could. Sometimes, I want to roll my eyes and stomp my feet and walk away. I don’t want to listen… I want to be heard. I don’t want to be understanding… I want to be understood.

I am embarrassed… All of this is hard to admit, but I promised when I started this to be honest here… To share my experiences as they happen.

From what I have read, heard and experienced, while we will usually allow other people the space they need to grieve, families tend to expect each other to grieve in a similar fashion… For whatever reason, we tend to be less patient with each other, and that can create a truly volatile atmosphere which has the potential to be damaging to everyone.

“Lastly, family members will need to understand that while their closeness may be supportive in their grief, it also can make them likely to displace blame, anger, and other hostile feelings onto one another, to avoid communication for fear of upsetting the other, or to place irrational demands on each other.”

~ connect.legacy.com

Another part of the problem may be something called the “multiplier effect.” This occurs when the grief of one family member triggers the grief of another (or all). In the beginning, this is normal as everyone’s grief is so acute. However, as time passes and each individual moves through grief in their own way and time, this effect can create impatience with one another. While the paths of our grief journey split off in different directions, there seems to be a part of us that wants to “stick together as a family”… to grieve in a similar fashion – following identical paths.

However, that isn’t possible… Logically we know, we are all individuals with varying needs, but it can be hard to remember we are each grieving the loss of a different relationship. We know we don’t like others to tell us how to feel in our grief, but we also need to remember not to do the same to those we love either. Instead, we need to allow each other the space to feel what we feel and to express it in the way that will work best for each of us…

Put simply – we need to remember to offer what we would like to receive… love, patience and someone willing to simply be there in our hardest moments…

Learning to navigate through this journey is different for everyone… For many of us, the changes in us created by our grief can be confusing and overwhelming to ourselves and others. Learning to be open to new possibilities can feel impossible at times and at other times, this is what gives us hope. We all move through it at our own pace and in our own way… and we each have our own experiences that help us make it through. If this feels familiar, we are here… you are not alone. If you are someone who needs 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. *

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… For our friends and family

Did you know… 800,000 people are widowed each year?

Did you know… 700,000 of those are women?

Did you know… most widows live in poverty? (Over 115 million world wide)

Did you know… for the past thirty or more years the rate of poverty among elderly widows is consistently three to four times higher than elderly married women.

Did you know… “death of a spouse” is listed as the #1 stressor on the stress index scale and is considered one of life’s most devastating events?

Did you know… 60% of those who lose a spouse or significant other will experience a serious illness within 12 months?

Did you know… insomnia is one of the most common symptoms for a grieving spouse?

Did you know… if a man survives his 50s, he will likely live to “old age?”

Did you know… The average age of widowhood is 55, and 75 percent of women will be widowed by age 56?

Did you know… most widow(er)s lose 75% of their support base when their spouse dies?

Did you know… after 3 – 4 months most of the remaining support fades for a widow(er)?

Did you know… most widow(er)s lose touch with their in-laws within a year of a loss?

Did you know… scamming and manipulation are common practice toward the widowed?

Did you know… it really is possible to die of a broken heart? Widow(er)s have a 30% elevated risk of death in the first 6 months after their spouses died.

Did you know… almost half the women over 65 years of age in the US are widows and about 7:10 of these women live alone?

Those are the statistics, but let’s talk about the real world… Oh wait, that is the real world.

These are not pretty numbers… They do not reflect what Hollywood tells us. Instead, they tell us the truth… They tell us the reality of many of your loved ones’ lives.

Do you know someone who is widowed? More than likely, they spend most of their time alone. More than likely, they fall into many of these statistics. It is also more than likely they will not tell you. I know because I fall into many of these numbers just as so many other widows I have met on this journey.

While every statistic is not true for every person, you might be surprised to know what is true. To give you an idea, I will share “my statistics.”

When I read these numbers, immediately I know I am blessed. I have a wonderful job with retirement plans for the not-to-distant future. While I do not live in poverty, many of the women in my initial support group were unable to support themselves and were losing their homes. Several were looking for room-mates… someone to share expenses, or a room to rent in someone else’s home. They couldn’t make it alone financially, but their families were not able (or willing, in some cases) to help either.

I have not been seriously ill since Bruce died. We were both into health and fitness, and I have continued that practice to this day. I learned a long time ago that exercise produces endorphins (a natural, self-produced, “feel good” chemical)… and goodness knows, I can definitely use that!

I have had sleep issues since Bruce passed. For the first year or so, I would wake up most nights at the exact same time I was awakened the night he died. (Trauma related, I suppose.) Now, that only happens a few times a month. Most nights, while I go to bed in time to get 8 – 9 hours of sleep, I usually wake up every couple of hours and remain awake for 30 minutes to an hour each time. If I can manage 4 – 5 hours total, it is a good night.

Bruce was only 52 when he passed away, and I was 51… I believe that covers those two statistics…

I did lose MOST of what I thought would be my support base. However, I gained many new friends who have been by my side day in and day out. They have become my “trusted few,” and I am forever in their debt.

As for my in-laws, they are wonderful. I was terrified of losing touch with them (and told them so) after Bruce’s memorial. However, after 3 years, they are still as close to me as ever, and I love them so very much.

Since Bruce died, I have definitely encountered my fair share of scammers and manipulation. It is amazing how many people are quick to take advantage of someone in a vulnerable state. Some of it has come from phone calls or sales pitches. (Those were easy to recognize.) Other situations have come from people I thought were my friends or acquaintances who I thought genuinely cared. These are harder to recognize. However, I have gotten better at it… or maybe I have just learned to be a lot more cautious. I used to trust anyone until they proved (several times) they shouldn’t be trusted. Now I hold back on the trust until I am sure of their intentions.

I have not died of a broken heart (obviously), although I certainly thought I would the first year. My blood pressure is slightly higher than before (although still very normal). Now, (years later), good health through natural healing is my goal.

I live alone and spend most holidays alone. However, I consider myself blessed. Even though we are a scattered family, my kids make sure I am “covered” for the “big ones,”… and I am learning new ways to celebrate the others. What never ceases to stun me into silence, though, are the people who say they are jealous of my solitude… Inside, I shake my head… They have no idea! I always want to tell them there is a difference is choosing solitude and being thrown into it unexpectedly.

As for me, I really am adjusting… slowly. In other words, each day I am learning to to be a little more okay by finding the blessings in my circumstances.

But what about your neighbor, friend or family member? Do you see them or their situation in those numbers? Is there anything you can do to make a difference? Are you willing to do that?

Please… don’t be afraid to reach out and make a difference…

Do you want to share your story or your thoughts? 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… The other side

… Show me I’m not alone.
~ Linda, February 14, 2014

This week was a little bit unusual for me. Call it a lesson or a reminder – whatever you call it doesn’t matter. What matters is I needed it… I needed to be reminded what it is like to be on the other side of loss. The side that is looking on; the side that wants to be supportive but isn’t quite sure how.

At the beginning of the week a friend of mine lost her daughter. My heart broke for her as she dealt with all those crazy emotions that make up grief… all the while trying to be “brave” for everyone around her. Why do we try so hard to hide that pain? Why do we feel the need to “protect” the world from something we will all experience at some point in our lives?… I don’t know, but we do.

In an effort to say something, I found myself wanting to say all those cliches that drive me so crazy. I may have even said one or two before I caught myself. How ridiculous is that? After all this time, I know better… but so many of those phrases are so ingrained in us. After all, this is what we’re “supposed” to say, right? And I wanted so badly to lift her pain – to make her feel better.

I found myself trying to convince her to feel better before I started actually listening to myself. Then I shut up because I remembered… I remembered what is was like to lose little baby Matthew and what is was like to lose Bruce. I remembered that all I wanted was someone to let me feel whatever I was feeling with no judgement or words. Someone willing to just be there… Someone to just listen or hold me while I cried.

A few days later I came across a scene on my way to work that shook me to my core. My drive is about an hour on a two lane highway through the marsh. As I came around a bend in the road, I saw several police cars, the County Coroner and a small sedan with the back passenger door open – all parked on the side of the road. There was no apparent crash or people. “Weird,” I thought. Then I saw something laying on the side of the road. Then I saw three of them… bodies (not even covered to protect them from the rain).

I have no idea who these people were or what transpired there. All I know is I started to cry… I cried for the people laying there. I cried for their families. I cried for the policemen and the men working this scene. But mostly I cried for all of us… for this world that can’t seem to figure out how to live in peace with one another.

Then there was today… I spent today with two men – George and Bob. I was working as a volunteer at an event for homeless vets. While this event is intended for our homeless veterans, no one is turned away. It is a one day event in which the homeless from several counties are offered food and clothing. On top of that, our homeless vets are offered such services as health screenings, job placement and benefits counseling.

As our homeless enter the event, a volunteer escort greets them. We spend the day with these men and women. We eat meals with them and help them find the services they need but most important, we are their friend… We talk to them and listen to their stories.

The first year I volunteered, it was a few months after Bruce died. I found myself wanting to do something for someone else… I wanted to forget about my own loss and spend some time focusing on someone else. I went with the intention of helping them… of making a change in their world. But every year, I find that I am the one that is blessed. I always know in my soul that I have gained so much more than I have given.

Today when I met George, he barely talked at first. In fact, the first thing he said to me (that was audible) was “I hate women.” I was a little surprised but not insulted. I just smiled and told him that if he would like we could go back to the front and find a gentleman to walk with him instead. It would be fine – it was no problem. “No,” he said. “I think I might like you okay.” Then he paused for minute and said, “It’s people I don’t trust… I haven’t really talked to anyone in about 10 years… You seem okay though… Maybe I won’t mind talking to you.”

So we sat down to breakfast and I listened. I listened to George tell me his life story. A story of how he had gone from being a Navy man, husband and father of three “beautiful” boys to the man he is now – a man who lives in a tent way back in the woods… alone.

He doesn’t beg for money. (He was very adamant about that.) Instead, he goes early in the morning (before the rest of the world is awake) to find money that people have dropped in the parking lots of bars. He says he can find anywhere from $1 – $10 a day. “People are clumsy after they have been drinking,” he told me. “They reach in their pockets for their keys and never notice when money falls out, too. I can usually find enough to buy some food.”

He was so proud to share pictures of his tent and his friends. His tent is extremely tidy and furnished. (It was like something out of Swiss Family Robinson.) His friends are the racoons and the cats in the area. He has named all of them and described each one and their personality. We talked all morning and on through lunch before he was ready to go back home.

It was then that he insisted on giving me a gift – one of the new items he had received today. I kept trying to explain that I didn’t need it. “I know that,” he said. “But I want to give it to you anyway…” Then, very quietly, “It’s my way of thanking you if that’s okay.”

I feel so blessed this evening as I write this. I know without a doubt that George and Bob were in my life today for a purpose… a purpose they will never know. Isn’t it that way for all of us? We never know whose life we are touching or affecting.

Whether we are the ones dealing with loss and being supported or the ones trying to offer support, it doesn’t matter. What matters is showing each other we are not alone.

It is the relationships and people in our lives that matter and make life worth living. Even if our words or actions come out wrong or clumsy, it is better than doing nothing. As long as we never lose our connections to one another – our relationships with each other – we can learn to lean on each other, support one another and survive our losses.

Because this is our community, 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 else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… Here comes the sun

For most of this week I remained in the same sad mode I was in last week. That isn’t normal… Usually I shake it off after a day or so. I’m not sure why this melancholy mood stuck around… but it did.

It seems weird to me that after 2.5 years, I can still feel so sad… It is a sadness that goes all the way to my core. And sometimes, I am at a loss as to how to shake it.

This week I closed the door to my office to “deal with it”… But that didn’t work. So I opened my door to talk to the world and try to forget… but that didn’t work either. I wrote in my journal, worked in my garden, went to the beach, and played the piano – all in an effort to get it out… but nope – nothing.

It’s been too long to still think anyone wants to listen to me cry. So instead, I tried telling jokes or listening to everyone else’s issues and stories. This week, I celebrated birthdays and new jobs and listened to bad days and arguments… but still this grief and sadness continued.

My kids just happened to be calling more this week. (I guess God put it a bug in their ear on my behalf.) To be honest, they have been my biggest blessing… especially this week. One of my neighbors noticed that my house was staying closed up and came on over to sit with me a while… she, too, has blessed my week more than she will ever know.

I posted on my personal Face Book page that I felt lost… I did. I wasn’t depressed. I was sad… I’m still grieving – There’s a huge difference in my book. Some people get it… others want to fix it. They all mean well, but I’m not broken, so I can’t be fixed. This is a journey, and sometimes I am just looking for some extra support when I am struggling.

Some days I ask God to help me… other days I am mad at him all over again. Is this normal? I don’t know… probably. Who knows what is “normal” when it comes to grief.

The hard part for me is that I don’t have anyone I am particularly close to that has lost a spouse. My parents and Bruce’s parents are both still here. My sister and Bruce’s sisters are still happily married. None of my closest friends or my coach have ever lost a spouse. So many times I find myself wishing my grandmothers were still alive so I could talk to them. They would have some good advice, I’m sure. As it is, I really don’t know who to ask what is normal… so I am lost… and I am very much alone.

I’ve read so many of the books, and there are some great ones out there. I’ve researched grief (because research is whatI do) and found a lot of good solid information. I did the support group thing… and found it wasn’t my thing. (I wasn’t real comfortable sharing my deepest feelings with a room full of strangers… that was a nightmare for me!)

Ultimately, I believe it comes down to this… time. Yep – time. And for anyone grieving the length of time will vary. For some people, it may be a few months; for others, it may take years. We’re all different. This week I discovered that according to research, the average time for a widow to feel strong and ready to move ahead is 12 – 14 years… and that’s an average! Wow! That speaks volumes to me.

What I know for sure is I need to just be patient with myself. I need to stop pushing myself – if I feel sad, then I feel sad. When I feel happy, then (yay) I feel happy. Go with it. Feel what I feel – one moment at a time… just be careful not to drop too low or drag anyone down with me.

Thursday night I stumbled across the video below. I’ve always loved this song and this particular rendition has touched my heart. Since Bruce died I’ve said that there is hope in divorce but not in death, but this song reminds me that there is always hope… as long as I believe in it.

http://jewishstandard.timesofisrael.com/israeli-duos-perfect-here-comes-the-sun/

Because this is our community, 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 else.

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

Peace, Love and Grief… It’s not a competition

Please…
Please don’t judge my grief;
Don’t compare it to someone else’s.
You see what I choose to let you see.
(Except in those moments when it overflows and pours from my soul.)
I may smile.
I may walk with my chin up,
But you do not know what pain is growing on the inside…
consuming my soul.
It may be easy to sit where you do and decide I am fine;
But you would be wrong.
You see what I choose to let you see.
My pain is here; it is real.
I deal with it all day – everyday…
Do not believe the mask I wear.
~ Linda, June 17, 2014

During the first year after Bruce passed, I found myself getting angry at some of the things people said. During the second year, that anger subsided as I learned to think with less emotion and began to realize that people truly meant well… They just didn’t know any better. I know now that most of the words spoken were meant to console or “help me look on the bright side.” Unfortunately, what might be consoling to one person is not necessarily consoling to another. Separating the words from the intent and only responding to the intent has helped me grow and respond with love. What I hope to achieve today is an understanding of why one perception of loss can leave the griever feeling isolated even more.

One of the few statements that will still trigger an emotional (aka – angry) response within me, occurs when someone tries to compare the grief of two different people and thus, two different losses. Please, believe me when I tell you that if you were to ask anyone who is grieving, they would be quick to tell you that this is not a game… And, if it were, they would rather not be participating.

The year Bruce died, was a hard year for our little office. Several people lost family members. We lost husbands, partners, parents and children. About 6 months after Bruce passed, a co-worker went through the horrendous experience of losing her son in a senseless accident. Not only did she live a mother’s worst nightmare by having to make the decision to say “good-by”, but because it was not his fault in any way, she also spent months fighting for him in the judicial system. She is such a brave woman, and I am extremely proud to be her friend.

Since we were both experiencing such deep-felt grief at the same time, we shared a lot… many mornings found us praying for each other and sending words of encouragement back and forth. (I hope she realizes that she is still in my prayers – even today.)

The competition I mention was never between her and me. The competition seems to have been in the minds of some of our co-workers. Ironically, it seemed to be those who had never lost a child or a soul mate (a loss that impacts not just your heart but your day-to-day life).

Almost immediately, people began saying to me, “Well, at least you can remarry and get another husband. She can never replace her son.” Or “Well, at least you don’t hurt as much as she does. The pain of losing a child is so much worse.”

Really? I’ve lost a child and I’ve lost my soul mate… the relationships were different and the pain was different. But I would never say that one is less or more painful than the other. I am aware that these people were trying to help. Their intention may have been to console or to be the “voice of wisdom and positive thought.” I truly believe they meant well, and I appreciate their attempt to help me feel better.

My questions, however, would be…

1. Is there a way to measure grief?
I don’t believe you can measure it. No one knows for sure how or what I (or another person) feels. When we are grieving, we let the world see what we choose to let them see. I would bet most people have no idea that almost 2.5 years later, I still cry at least 2 – 3 times a day… and that’s a minimum. I still wear our wedding rings close to my heart each and every day, and when things get rough and when I sleep, I hold them tightly in my fist. I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around the reality of losing Bruce. I don’t know if I will ever completely accept it.

2. And what do they mean replace Bruce?
One might remarry… Then again, one might also have another child. My point is no matter what else you might do, you can never replace a person. Each person is unique and your relationship with them is unique. They will always be a part of your soul and live deep in your heart. Yes, I am lonely… but it is Bruce that I miss. I don’t want just anyone – I want him. But since that is impossible, I still find myself grieving. I still question why he is gone. I still light a candle for him each morning. I can still remember what it feels like to be in his arms. Craziest of all, I still think of myself as married, and I still think of him as my husband. Honestly, I don’t know if that will ever change.

Here is what I do know…

If your grieving, people will probably say things that are just wrong. Take a breath and remember that they mean well.
If you are trying to comfort someone who is grieving and you don’t know what to say, that’s okay. You need to say anything – just be there. That means so much more than anyone could ever realize.
Finally, please understand that people who are grieving, would rather not be grieving (period). So, if you feel the temptation to compare our grief – to make it seem like a competition – please don’t. It is hurtful and invalidating.
We would beg you, please, don’t compare us… just support us.

Because this is our community, 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 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