survival – Peace, Love & Grief

Peace, Love, and Grief – Grief Survival

As I have said several times before, I am a “list person”. I love a to-do list. I love the feeling of accomplishment as I complete an item and check it off the list. Embarrassing as it is, if I didn’t put an item on the list, but still completed it, I will add it just so I can check it off. (I’m not sure what that says about me, but I’m sure it’s something “not quite right.” LOL!)

So… when Bruce died, you know what I did, right? I went on an internet search for a list of things to do to heal the pain… to get past the grief… to feel whole again. Let me say right now, there is no such list. (And if you find one, I will bet it is completely misleading.)

So why is my title “Grief Survival”? I will say that it is not because I have discovered a list – I have not. However, it is because there are small things we can recognize in our thinking, and once we start changing those, we can start to see a path forward.

Let’s start by looking at the pain of grief. Whether your loss happened slowly over time and you knew it was coming at some point or whether your loss was sudden and unexpected, the pain is real. The pain is intense. The pain is often overwhelming and paralyzing.

However, it isn’t pain that creates our suffering. (I know how crazy that sounds… just stick with me for a little bit more.) So, as I was saying…

Pain doesn’t create our suffering. It is the story we tell ourselves about that pain which creates our suffering. For example, when Bruce died, all I could see in my future were years upon years of days and days without Bruce. It never seemed to lift for even a moment. I found myself completely unable to see past the pain… All I could see were all those years stretched out before me alone… abandoned… without Bruce.

This made my pain feel never-ending, and I started telling myself (and believing) that my grief was permanent. It was (and would always be) a part of my life… a permanent part of me and who I am as a person. Nothing could change it. My future was set.

Some people refer to this as “freezing your horizon”. I love this phrase. For me, paints a very clear image of what this story I was telling myself was doing to my mindset and my future.

Then, (God love the man), I started exploring who Bruce was – deep down beyond the man that I knew. He was such a spiritual person, and soon I found myself reading the books he read and listening to the speakers he enjoyed. These were all things he had offered to me during our time together, but back then, I wasn’t ready to hear… At that time, life was good and I thought I already had all the answers… I was wrong.

It was taken years… Years of baby steps – but still many years of (slowly) moving forward. And what I have learned (so far) is this…

For way too long, my focus was on all the wrong things. I was focused on what was, what is no longer, what is missing… what is frozen and stuck. I couldn’t see a way forward, because I was still telling myself that there was no way forward… In front of me was only more of the same – pain and loneliness.

Then, a few years ago, things started to change… I started changing my focus. Instead of focusing on what is stuck, I started looking at what is changing – day by day, moment by moment. Sometimes big changes (like my career), and sometimes small changes like learning to laugh again without the guilt of Bruce not being here to laugh with me.

It sounds odd, I know, but I started looking at pain as my teacher – not my future. I started looking for the things I was learning and doing simply because I am still here… because I am searching for answers. I was looking for the good despite the bad… I was looking at the lessons that the pain was reflecting back to me.

When I did that, I also learned that whether I denied the pain or wallowed in it was the same basic action. It was me trying to control it by either shoving it down deep and ignoring it or by pulling it up front and making it the only choice on the menu. However, when I tried to control that pain, I only create more suffering for the simple reason that it became my only focus.

I couldn’t see any other options, because I only allowed myself to see this one… the pain. Over time, it became a habit. Yet, like any habit it could be undone – although it is hard and takes quite a bit of work.

Today, I want to share one of the things that seems to work, (at least for me). This is something very subtle, but the impact is huge. It has involved making a very tiny change to the story I tell myself…

Instead of telling myself, “I am grieving” or “I am broken”, which I did a lot, now, I tell myself that “Grief (or brokenness) is moving through me.” In other words, it isn’t a part of me. It isn’t permanent. It is just present in this current moment. I can recognize it, but I don’t need to embrace it.

This simple change takes the power away from the emotion by no longer declaring it as a permanent part of who I am. It then becomes easier to focus on the other things around me… the good things… the things that create peace in my mind and joy in my heart… I have even found that this is how I am handling all of the pain and chaos that seems to be permeating our culture lately… So, for me, this is how I am learning to survive – not just my grief, but also this wild ride called “life”.
_____________________________________________________
Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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

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… 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 – Grief Burnout

Well… I survived another year… Another year without Bruce… Another set of back-to-back special days. For those of you who have been on this journey for more than a year, you know that there are “special” days throughout the year that are just a little bit harder than other days, such as anniversaries, holidays, birthdays… I am sure you know what I mean.

For me, most of those “special” days fall back-to-back in the months of November through early January. It starts in early November with our wedding anniversary, then in quick succession there is Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, the day we met, New Years, and the day Bruce died – all within ten weeks.

In years past, I wasn’t so sure I would survive. It was always completely overwhelming. Then, add on the fact that the rest of the world is truly celebrating, and I don’t want to be the one who brings everyone else down. So, I always tried to smile my way through it in public, while grieving in private. (I can’t say I was always successful with the public part… Although, I tried.)

While each year has had its own challenges, looking back, I can see a consistent pattern of me being able to manage the grief a little bit better each year. There was the first year when I ran away to the Keys and stayed on a yacht to avoid the whole Christmas season. Then, a year or two later, I can remember actually singing carols again… and enjoying them. There were the years when my grandson lived here, and I was able to focus on him the whole season… So, growth – slow, but steady.

I’m okay with that… It has been slow, but it has also been moving in a positive direction. Step by step… year by year, I have slowly found myself learning to live again within the spirit of the holiday season. I must admit, though, that it still has its challenges.

Today, as I finally find myself on the other side of all those special days, I have to admit, I am absolutely exhausted! The emotional toll has left me completely spent. I believe there is a term for it, although I just heard it for the first time a few weeks ago… “grief burnout”.

The Cleveland Clinic defines burnout as “physical, emotional or mental exhaustion, accompanied by decreased motivation and performance.” Oh my gosh!! That is exactly how I feel… Physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted… to the point of not caring.

But… I have to care. Life keeps moving forward and so must I. So how do I do that??

I’ll be honest, after so many years of this, I knew it was coming. I knew how I would feel. While the rest of the world is spending January focusing on how to be a better person, I am just trying to come back from the tsunami of grief that has left me gasping for breath on the shore.

So… this year, I decided to have a plan… a self-care, self-love plan… A plan that gives me permission to rest for a while and not worry so much about new goals or resolutions. A plan that gives me permission to delay those for a month or two. Here is what I mean…

One of the big signs of burnout is fatigue. I am talking about the kind of exhaustion that makes it hard to even breathe, much less get up and do. So, my plan for the next few weeks is to rest… to do the things I can (or must) do, and not to worry about anything else. It will all still be there in a few weeks, and I will take care of it then. For now, if I want to go to bed one or two hours early, I will. Who cares? It isn’t hurting a soul, and I will definitely feel better in the morning.

Another sign of burnout can be apathy. For me, this means I need to be intentional about the things I am doing. It may (and usually does) mean I am doing a little bit less, but the things I choose to do are things I care about… Things that I believe matter or make a difference… Things that make me smile.

Lack of focus has been a big burnout symptom for me this year. Part of my daily routine is to meditate each morning. It helps me to get my mind into a good space before starting my day. However, the last few weeks I have struggled with this. Whereas I usually meditate for 30 minutes or more, I have been lucky to even sit still (much less meditate) for longer than 10 minutes. My brain just keeps going in 100 directions all at once. It has become a lesson in frustration every single morning. Yet, I haven’t quit.

I know that routine is an important part of gaining focus, so I am sticking with it. This morning, I even managed six minutes of meditation before my mind decided to take over. However, instead of worrying about the amount of time I didn’t meditate, I decide to be grateful for the six minutes that I did. (It’s all in the perspective, right?)

Finally, my daughter introduced me to an app for self-care. Its cutesy and colorful… and it makes me smile. It walks me through my daily goals and never makes me feel bad if I don’t hit each goal every day. Plus, we are able to support each other through our daily goals, by sending each other encouragement, hugs and “gifts”. So far, my goals have been very basic, I mean very basic – like “get out of bed”. I’m sure that sounds silly, but for right now, I’m so tired that this goal is harder for me than one might think.

I guess, because I had never heard the term “grief burnout” before, I never thought of this exhaustion and brain scramble as anything other than “grief brain”. Granted, most people use the term “grief brain”… Even I have used it many times.

However, I think the term “grief burnout” may work better for everyday language. Why? Because many people have never experienced deep grief before, so the term “grief brain” means nothing. Yet, most people have experienced burnout at some point, so it automatically becomes something they can understand… something that may feel less uncomfortable because it is something they can relate to… Maybe.

Anyway, no matter what words you use or if you use no words at all… If the holidays have left you feeling emotionally depleted, please, love yourself enough to give yourself the gift of self-care… You are worth the investment.
_____________________________________________________
Grief is a daily challenge that changes us in ways we could never foresee, making this journey a difficult path for anyone. That is why I share the mistakes I have made, as well as what I have felt and learned along the way. Even sharing our stories of love and life can be helpful on this journey. We know learning to function on this new path is hard, and it is easy to lose our way or forget that we don’t have to do it alone.

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

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 Rug

Trauma… There’s a word that has been popping up in the media a lot lately. It is also a word that has been a part of my story since the first time I went to counseling. In fact, (not surprisingly), it was the actual reason for that initial counseling. But what is trauma…

Trauma is defined on the internet as “a deeply distressing or disturbing experience; emotional shock following a stressful event or a physical injury, which may be associated with physical shock and sometimes leads to long-term neurosis.” That is good… That takes into account the event and the effects. While not as complete, I have defined it for years as “unexpected chaos”… Either way, the event seems to happen with no warning and leaves nothing but destruction in its wake.

If statistics are to be believed, most of us have gone (or will go) through some type of traumatic event at some point in our lives. Some of us will go through several. Honestly, I had never thought about trauma being a piece of my life until that initial session, when my first marriage with its abuse and chaos was defined as traumatic, as well as the loss of our first child and the uproar between the families that ensued. Through the years, there, also, have been other “unexpected chaotic” events which have left their mark.

Each time, I have gotten back up – shaking and stumbling, but determined to keep going… and (seemingly) each time, once I have gotten back up and felt like I had my footing again, someone or something has pulled the rug back out from under me… again.

I have often bragged about the healing that Bruce brought to me and my kids… How his infinite patience and unconditional love allowed us the space to learn how to trust again… how to live again… how to be ourselves… (in other words) how to heal.

The day before Bruce died, he had worked all day. That night, as he ate his dinner, we sat and talked and made our plans for the weekend. We kissed goodnight and snuggled in the bed before falling asleep. To my mind, there was nothing to warn us of what was about to happen in just a few short hours. But happen, it did. Unexpectedly… in the middle of the night, I was awakened to the awful sounds of Bruce dying.

I struggled at first to grasp what was happening, but once I did, my survival instincts kicked in… I called 911. I unlocked the doors. I started CPR. Then, when EMS arrived, I stepped aside and watched as the reality of what was happening (or not happening) started to sink in. I watched the line on the heart monitor remain flat despite all the attempts to save him. I watched as our world fell apart and crumbled at my feet.

There is no doubt that for me this was the most traumatic event of them all…

I feel that I had barely started to heal from all that came before. I had just started to feel confident in who I am. I had just started to understand that adult relationships are supposed to be about balance, mutual respect, and compassion. It wasn’t about power plays or rescuing the other person from their consequences or fixing their world to suit them. I was just starting to grasp, embrace, and live my life with these principles when suddenly… Bruce was gone.

Once again, just when I was starting to stand confidently on my own two feet… just when I was willing to venture out as my own person, that rug was viciously ripped out from under me.

Almost immediately, I felt as if I were thrown back in time… I couldn’t seem to find any of that healing and confidence I had gained with Bruce. Perhaps, I hadn’t learned how to find that within myself yet… Or… maybe (because of the crisis created), I reverted to old patterns of survival. If I am honest, I think it was a bit of both.

I wanted to make Bruce proud. I wanted to “do it right”. I wanted to regain all that I had learned and put it into action… But I couldn’t seem to find my way. You see, I wasn’t just lost in this world without Bruce – I had lost myself.

In the decade since that awful night, I have worked hard to get back to a healthy place again. It has been a slow process… a long journey. There have been times when I thought I couldn’t do it – when I thought maybe “this” was just the way I was built. But… (thankfully) there have been more times when I have focused on Bruce’s legacy and realized that I am stronger than I think… If he believed in me, then I can too.

Throughout this time, there have been other traumatic events… Times when that dang rug was pulled out again… and again… and again… Each time, I have thought, “How do I do this without Bruce… It seems like I am always doing these things without Bruce.”

This year has probably been one of the hardest… It seems like one event right after another – piling up like a cord of wood… And this month even more so, as this round of rug pulling seems to be throwing my very way of life into chaos.

This time, though, is different. I have spent this year working hard on learning to “be” – to be kind, to be honest, to be genuine, to be healthy, to be hopeful, to be… me. I have also found a solid space within my own faith where I am confident, supported, and at peace…

Peace… That is something I have not felt in a very, long time. Sure, the slogan of this blog is, “There is a peace that comes with acceptance, and a love that is always remembered.” However, learning to live by that slogan has taken some time (and constant hard work).

Yet, after the initial shock of recent events, I really am at peace. Don’t get me wrong, things feel a bit scary and out of my control right now, but I am confident that there is a reason for what is happening. I am choosing to believe that there is something even better on the other side of this situation… And here’s the best part… One way or the other, I have to deal with this. My choices are to do it feeling like a victim with no control in my own life, OR to do it with the confidence that I will be okay. I have chosen the latter… I can do this!

(And while I am absolutely doing this for me, I, also, think Bruce is smiling down and so proud!)

________________________________________________________

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

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

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 – In the Beginning…

Last week, I talked about going back, reading earlier journals, and sharing some of my favorite memories. This week, I thought I’d share something different… This week, I thought I’d share some of my entries from those first few weeks. Between the shock of Bruce’s death and the impact of what that would mean to my future, it was a really hard time. I know the details of everyone’s experience are different, but that period of reality and adjustment is hard… for anyone…

One Week

Oh God! This is too hard! I can’t do it. God is expecting too much from me. It’s been a week – he needs to come back!

All last night I kept thinking that a week ago we were living our last few moments together, and we had no idea. I kept trying to remember his smile, his touch, that last kiss goodnight.

There are no regrets about how those last moments were spent. They were good. They were happy. They were normal… I just want one more hour – one hug, one smile, one more evening just snuggling on the couch. I need to lay my head on his chest while he strokes my back and tells me it’s all going to be okay. But I don’t get any of that, and it’s not going to be okay. I can’t even breathe without him. Oh God! How am I going to do this???

“When you’re grieving, that’s not the time to be brave or strong. You need to let it show.”
~ Zig Ziglar

Nine Days

This is awful! I’m so lonely. Today will be my first day alone… I’m scared…

It’s funny… when people came those first few days, they said they would stay as long as I needed them to… Now, nine days later, they are all gone. I guess it is just as well. I have to learn to be alone some time. I know they all have lives to get back to… I wish I did. I wish I could get in my car and drive back to my life with Bruce.

I can see how people die of a broken heart… This is way too wrong. We love each other – that won’t stop – I still Love him. Why take such a man? Bruce was such a wonderful influence on everyone he met. He was my exact match… I still love him so, so much!

“It takes strength to face our sadness and to grieve and to let our grief and our anger flow in tears when they need to.”
~ Fred Rogers

Ten Days

Last night was hard. Reality hit… I am no longer the center of anyone’s world. From now on, I will always be behind whatever else is going on in someone’s life. I understand that… it is the way it should be. At the same time, it is hard to know that there is no longer my Bruce, who loves me first and foremost. He had a way of making me feel so important. But that is gone, and I need to accept that… Is it okay to feel sorry for myself for a little bit, though? I hope so, because I just want to crawl in a hole. I know I am an emotional drain to everyone… I want to be happy, but it just feels so fake right now.

“There are things that we don’t want to happen but have to accept; things we don’t want to know but have to learn, and people we can’t live without but have to let go.”
~ Nancy Stephan, The Truth About Butterflies

Eleven Days

You’re really not coming back. That is so hard to understand… to accept. How do I pick up these shattered pieces and move on? I can’t. Please don’t ask me to – don’t make me. This is pain so great, so overwhelming that I don’t know how to begin. I can’t even pray. I can talk to you, Babe… sing to you, yell at you… but I can’t talk to God. I should… but the words aren’t there. I don’t feel mad at Him (at least I don’t think so). Yet, whenever I try to pray, there is nothing there. I can read verses and some even bring a moment of comfort… But I can’t pray.

Please don’t go. Please let me wake up and this be some horrible, horrible nightmare. I don’t think I can survive this. Everyone says I am doing great, I’m gonna be okay, I’m strong, etc.… But I don’t think so. This feels like more than I can bear. My heart lay in pieces… I can’t even breathe, and to move feels like a mighty chore. Survival is such a fight right now… It’s just that you were my whole world, and now my world is gone.

“Sometimes, all I can hope for is that I’ll feel more hopeful tomorrow.”
~ Martha Whitmore Hickman, Healing After Loss

There are so many things about Bruce that I miss even now. We had so many dreams of what our life together would be like, but for whatever reason, I was left here to figure all that out alone. In the beginning, I didn’t think I could survive this… but, somehow, I have. Whenever I feel like I can’t go another step, I remember him – his confidence, his smile, his love – and somehow, I feel a little less lonely and that next step a little less impossible. Remembering Bruce… remembering the love we shared… and I know that the love I still feel within is far greater than any I have ever experienced… and to have never experienced this love would be so much worse than this pain I feel now.

Thank you, Babe… Thank you for making such a huge difference in my life.
________________________________________________________

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

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

Peace, Love, and Grief… It’s Okay to Feel What You Feel

“… Emotions such as grief, fear, and despair have gained a reputation as ‘the dark emotions’ not because they are noxious or abnormal but because Western culture keeps them shuttered in the dark with other shameful things like personal bankruptcy or sexual deviance.” ~ Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark

Did you know that according to the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual IV, also known as the “psychiatrist’s Bible”, patients who grieve longer than two months are considered depressed and it is suggested that prescription drugs should be considered for treatment? Good grief! Are you kidding me?? That has got to be one of the most ridiculous things I have ever read!

Honestly, at the two-month point, I was just beginning to realize that this was not a dream… There was no healing those first few months… I am pretty sure I was in shock during that time. I don’t remember a lot, except being thankful for a daily routine of working out, going to work, returning home, dinner, and bedtime. (Then, getting up and doing it all over again the next day.) Being able to simply “do the next thing” in my day without thinking about it was what kept me functional.

We all are different… We heal differently… We grieve differently… And we all have a different timeline for those things. For anyone to decide that everyone should “magically” be healed within a certain (very small) window, is just silly.

For me, I know for the whole first year I was simply focused on breathing… just surviving from one day to the next was my goal. I couldn’t think any farther ahead then the next moment.

I remember dreading all the “firsts”… For me, that order was the first Valentine’s Day, his birthday, Easter, summer and the beach, our anniversary, Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, New Years, and the awful anniversary of his death. I dreaded each one for weeks before the actual day. Then, trying to figure out what to do… how to spend the day… or if I even wanted to recognize the day at all was overwhelming.

Most of those days, I ran away and ignored the world…

I remember traveling alone for the first time. It was a business trip, but it still felt strange… No one to take me to the airport. No one for me to call and say, “I made it here safely.” No one to greet me when I got back home. It was hard… I especially remember trying to just get my breathing under control as I drove to the airport in the wee hours of the morning.

I also remember wearing black for that entire first year. To the rest of the world, it probably wasn’t even noticeable… everyone wears black these days, and as a woman in the business world, it just looked like any other professional woman in any other office. The thing is I didn’t do it to make a statement… It was simply a reflection of how I felt at the time. It wasn’t until somewhere in the second year, that I started to realize the color was starting to set my mood rather than reflect it. Then, I knew that it was time for me to stop… but not before that.

I have written many times about people being uncomfortable with my grief and wanting me to “put it aside”, so to speak. I’m not sure if that is for my benefit as much as it just makes them more comfortable not to be confronted with it. (I understand… It’s hard to see someone you love struggling with sadness and grief.)

In fact, many of you have written to me stating the same thing. Yes, we are sad… We are grieving… But the best way to heal is not by ignoring those feelings or shoving them down deep inside. Honestly, I found expressing my grief really was best for me… And I did so with my writing, by sharing stories, in my dress, in my paintings, and so many other ways that I can’t even begin to name them all.

My point, though, is this… If you are grieving, then do so with no apologies to anyone else. Let yourself feel what you feel. Then, be honest about those emotions so you can keep moving forward. Like me with the black clothes… It was a good thing in the beginning because it let me express myself in my own quiet way. However, once I realized it was no longer an expression of my feelings, but instead was swaying my emotions, I knew it was time to stop…

That is what I mean… It’s okay to feel what you feel… And no one has the authority or right to tell you when to stop… You just keep doing those things that help you move forward… Even it it’s baby steps… And that’s okay!

Whether you are new to this group or whether you have been visiting with us for a while, I am sorry for the reason you are here. I hate it for you… and for all of us. This is not a path any of us want to be on. Yet, here we are. This journey is an odd one – filled with challenges we never imagined. We never know from one day to the next, or one moment to the next, when another wave of grief will hit or what will be the next trigger. That can sometimes make this journey feel even more lonely. Yet, there are other times when I know I am not alone at all. We are here for each other. This journey holds both challenges and peace-filled moments for each of us. Yet, it is actually our love for those we have lost that brings us together to 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… It’s Not Always About Survival

It’s funny how life just keeps plugging along no matter what… The last few months have found me readjusting once again to a different life now that my daughter and grandson have moved out. It’s just feels weird sometimes – so different from the last few years of constant companionship and life with a little boy. I smile, though, watching their new family bond grow deeper with each passing day… (And knowing they are just up the road, doesn’t hurt either.)

At times, though, I am reminded of the time after Bruce died when I had to adjust to living alone. It was so different then. First of all, it was all so completely unexpected. One night we were laughing and making plans, and within just a few, short hours, he was gone. The suddenness of that loss was more than my mind (and heart) could manage. At the time, I wanted to badly to “grieve well” … I wanted to heal and move on (whatever that meant).

My desperation to wake up from this nightmare and my struggle to accept reality were completely at odds with each other. I didn’t want to be mad… I didn’t want to cry all the time… I didn’t want to feel the way I felt.

At first, it was strictly about survival… Getting up and facing each day… Going through the motions of life, such as working, eating, sleeping, and breathing. Each thing I had to do seemed to take all of my energy. There was nothing left to think about what might be next. It was strictly a matter of surviving each moment before moving to the next.

Brene Brown says that when we try to numb the “hard” feelings, we end up numbing everything… She is right! I am pretty sure that is exactly what happened during the first few years. In an effort to control the utter anguish I was feeling, I ended up turning off everything… It was the only way to survive. I remember walking around as in a fog, and in the moments when I let myself feel anything, I felt it all… There was no middle ground… During that time, it was definitely “all or nothing.”

Slowly, after working with a wonderful coach, I learned how to manage all those big emotions a little bit at a time. I wasn’t doing great, but I was definitely doing better. Then, I was blessed to have my daughter and grandson move in. Suddenly, I wasn’t alone… and life wasn’t about me. It felt good to invest in someone else for a while. The healing that happened during the years they lived here was miraculous at a minimum. I am so grateful for that time and all I learned.

Now, I find myself on the other side of that temporary arrangement, but things are different this time…

This time, I don’t feel abandoned or lonely. Three of my four children live nearby. We talk and visit quite often. (Those are the things that make me smile the most.) Also, during the time they were living here, I found myself pursuing my own spiritual awakening and path. So now, when those waves of grief appear (and they still do), I have that relationship to give me solace.

This morning, I was blessed to meet up with a friend for breakfast. We had such a great time – talking, laughing, and just chatting. While we sat there, I realized something else…. I have always known I am an introvert, and I tend to just keep to myself. Since Bruce died, though, I have done it more and more… probably because it feels safe. However, the fun I had this morning made me think… Perhaps, now is a good time for me to stretch again… To get out and do things – fun things… To make new friends and reconnect with old friends…

While somedays life really is about survival, it doesn’t have to be that way all the time. When Bruce died, I thought my life was over too… In some ways, I wanted it to be… I couldn’t imagine a future without him. But now… Well, I miss him… But I want to enjoy this life I still have. I know that Covid will present a bit of a challenge right now, that’s okay. I can still learn to find things that bring peace to my soul… I’m not sure what that will look like, but for today, I am content to learn that breakfast with a friend can be just as good for my soul as spending a quiet afternoon on the porch.

Thank you for the opportunity to share my story with you today. I know that sometimes this journey can feel so lonely. Yet, there are other times when I know I am not alone at all. We are here for each other. While this journey holds its own challenges and peace-filled moments for each of us, it is our love for those we have lost that brings us together to 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… Surviving Versus Living

“Last night was rough. Woke up numb this morning. Praying God will hold to his promise and heal my pain. Where is God? I am abandoned. I have been angry, I know… I am trying. I remember once when was so mad at Bruce. He just reached out and hugged her. At first she resisted, but he wouldn’t stop hugging her. Instead he said, ‘You need this hug. You need to know I love you.’ … That is what I need from God…”
~ Linda, Feb 2013

Surviving versus living… That is where I found myself after Bruce passed away. I believe that conflict eventually becomes the choice of every grieving person. In the beginning, I remember the pain was so intense it took everything in me just to keep breathing. Getting out of bed and moving through my day was a moment by moment miracle. The basics of survival, like breathing and eating, which normally are done without much thought, not only required thought, they required will-power. It took everything in me just to survive.

I felt so very alone and isolated. None of my friends or family had been through this… I didn’t know who to turn to or how to ask for what I needed. Yet, I knew I was not the only person to have been on this path. I knew it because of the quotes and Bible verses that kept popping up around me, such as:

I am bowed down and brought very low;
All day long I go about mourning…
I am feeble and utterly crushed;
I groan in anguish of heart…
For I am about to fall,
And my pain is ever with me.
~ Psalm 38: 6,8,17

Maybe it sounds weird, but it brought me a bit of comfort to know others had gone before me on this path. Others knew how deep this pain could be… Maybe I was not so alone after all. Because of my faith, I also found promises of hope in verses such as:

My sorrow is beyond healing.
My heart is faint within me…
Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no physician there?…
‘For I will restore you to health and I will heal you of your wounds,’ declares the Lord.
~ Jeremiah 8:18,22 and 30:17

AND

Then you shall call and the Lord will answer,
you shall cry for help and he will say, “Here I am!”
~ Isaiah 58:9

And yet, I still seemed to feel utterly abandoned and alone… I still felt like I was merely surviving for a very long time. I did a lot during that time in an attempt to heal… I attended a support group, started journaling, continued running, did a lot of reading and expressed myself through painting and gardening. Yet, even through all of that, I just couldn’t quite get past merely surviving.

It is said that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Well, I must agree. I believe I did all of those things in preparation for my teacher…

It was ten months later when I started making the turn from mere survival toward truly living again. What was the trigger? Someone (a stranger) reached out and as my mother would say “entered my life to become ‘God with skin on.'”

It started simply as a guest speaker at our office. As a business and life coach, she started the session by asking us to decorate a banner with words stating our purpose, why we were there or how we felt about our life. I simply wrote, “survival.” As soon as she spotted it, she came behind me, drew a big heart around my one word and wrote “support.” With such a simple gesture, she had become “God with skin on” for me and given me that “hug” I had begged for months earlier.

Then, she offered me the unconditional support I needed by taking it a step further…

She quickly became my coach, and because I was ready, my teacher. It’s funny but we rarely talked about my grief. We talked about Bruce, my family, work… We talked about life. She reminded me that I was not alone. She reminded me that I needed to look for God in all things or I would never see God in anything. In less than 6 months, she taught me the difference in survival and living.
She re-introduced me to life… my life… and I am forever grateful.

At this point I want to be sure I am perfectly clear. Grief is real; it is individual; and it is not selfish. To avoid the time needed to work through your emotions and self reflection is not healthy… It is absolutely necessary. However, when the time is right (and it will be different for each person), the healing, (the movement from mere survival to living life), can begin.

So what makes the difference in living versus merely suviving? It is finding the divine energy within each of us. Then, using that source to become a divine reality for someone else by simply being the love and acceptance we are seeking from the world around us.

In other words, it is using the love within us to move from a place of “self” to a place of service.

Polish your heart
so that it reflects
God’s love
to the world around you
~ Linda, February 2016

What about you? How did you find your way on your grief journey? Did you ever feel like you were merely surviving? 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?

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