Tag: trauma

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!)

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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. This year, my goal is to simply ‘be’… Be me, be kind, be compassionate, be loving, be hopeful… to just ‘be’ and to be comfortable with that… however it looks.

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

Please do… This is our community. To share your thoughts and experiences go to the comments and leave your message.*

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

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

Peace, Love, and Grief… Who I Am

Before I start today, I just wanted to do a real quick follow-up to last week’s blog… Wednesday evening, while driving home, I looked up and directly to my left was the biggest, most vibrant rainbow with another fainter one right next to it. Since this week has been filled with both emotional “sunshine” and “rain” (with tears consistently watering my eyes), I couldn’t help but smile. This is life – the good and the bad, the positive and the negative… It takes all the things to make a full life, and I really needed that rainbow to remind me of just how beautiful the tapestry of my life really is. (Just wanted to share that little story.)

Today, though, I want to talk about us – you and me… those of us who were left behind when the person we love died…

If you have ever been in therapy, then you know that you will spend a lot of time looking at and evaluating oneself… That’s kind of the point, right? Well, this week, I was delving into the idea of “who am I?” and how that can (and does) change throughout our lifetime. I found myself contemplating the idea that there are a lot of factors that can (and often will) spur those changes.

One of these factors is trauma… After all, most life lessons are found in the hard things… And depending on how we manage those lessons and the aftermath, the changes that occur may be good, or they may make our life even harder… I hate to admit it, but how that goes is really up to us – up to each individual.

For example, there were things that happened in my childhood. I can’t really say it “trauma”, but that was how my childish brain experienced and processed it. However, our family didn’t talk about stuff like that. It just wasn’t considered polite to have those hard conversations, especially between a child and an adult. Instead, we avoided them. (Again, remember, I am speaking out of what I remember and processed as a child. This is not a judgement on how I was raised.) As a consequence, I didn’t learn this particular communication skill, and as an adult, I have always struggled with those hard conversations or any communication around difficult topics.

That has become a part of who I am currently, but not who I am destined to continue being… See what I mean? I can change that inner quality if I choose to work on it… (which I have been, in case you wondered).

In other words, who we are within any situation shapes how we experience it, and our experiences turn around and reshape who we are. Also, while those experiences will always be in our memories, we can still reshape those memories or learn to look at those experiences in a different way – a way that allows us to grow.

For me, I experienced the chaos of my first marriage from the perspective of fear and self-doubt. As the years passed, those were the emotions that grew… So, those became the emotions that other people saw in me… Those became my dominant inner characteristics. However, they weren’t written into my DNA… They weren’t really me… Deep down, I knew there was so much more to who I am.

Honestly, it took me hitting rock bottom…It took me realizing that I didn’t care if I went to hell for divorcing, because in my experience at that point in time, my kids and I were already living in hell. That is what it took for me to decide to get strong, face my fears… and (ultimately) leave.

So, let’s talk about inner quality changes… In the three years it took to get divorced, I got help. I worked with a therapist and started to regain and embrace the part of me that believed in myself. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but during those three years, the patterns and behaviors that had led us to that point got progressively worse. My ex played all kinds of games – stalling, stalking, threatening, pretty much anything to make the process just that much more difficult. Admittedly, there were days when I fell back on those old characteristics, but there were more days when I relied on my newfound inner strength and determination – despite the terror I felt with each step forward.

Then, when Bruce and I got together, he saw things in me that I didn’t even know were there. With his support and love, I continued to change and grow. Over time, I started to drop the fear and self-doubt and replace them with confidence and determination.

Then, the worst happened. Bruce died… literally in my arms… I can’t even begin to explain the trauma of trying to save the person you love from death… and failing.

Every bit of ground that I had gained over our years together disappeared when he took his last breath… I lost it… I lost all of it, (plus a little bit more). I am pretty sure I spent the first year or two in complete shock… It wasn’t long before all the self-doubt and fear returned, and I imploded… Unable to bear the thought of what life might throw my way next, I became a bit of a recluse, which only made things worse.

However, I did seek help again, and over time, I very slowly began to do the hard work to get better…

Then, this year happened. I’m not in a place to give any details. (It isn’t my story only, and I am still praying that things will get better.) However, the losses I have experienced this year have once again rocked me to my core.

The beginning of the year found me on the brink of a nervous breakdown. Thankfully, though, my therapist is good, and my God is even better! My self-loathing and self-doubt were through the roof. Yet, the few people with insight in this situation gathered around me, and despite everything else going on, I felt loved. I knew that this time, I wasn’t alone.

While it has taken many months, I have worked hard (with all of their support) and am doing okay. I have learned a lot about trauma – what it does to our brains, what it does to our psyche, what it does to us… It really does change us – even physically! Did you know that? I didn’t! Trauma actually creates changes in our brains and in our chemical make-up… Some of these are reversable, and others… well… we’ll see.

Here’s what I do know… Bruce believed in me, and the qualities he saw in me were there back then and are still in me now. I don’t need to remind myself that I am “good enough” … Instead, I need to remind myself that “I am good (period).” It’s okay if I cry and feel sad sometimes, as long as I turn around and remember that I really am loved… I do belong in this world…

I believe this journey of healing and recovery was made harder by Bruce’s death. It is a hard path to navigate alone. I would would give anything to have him here to help build me up on those days when I just can’t… And for me to do the same for him… I miss that… But… because he believed in me, I can too… Because he saw so many good qualities in me, I can too… Because he loved me… yep… I can too.

Bruce used to always say that what we do – our role in life – isn’t who we are. It is only a small part of what helps us become who we are… Such wise words… I have been focusing on those words a lot lately as I continue to evaluate who I am… My role through the years has changed many times – throughout both marriages, after my divorce, after Bruce died, and even now… Yet, that isn’t who I am… None of those roles are who I am… And I think Bruce would be proud of me because I am finally starting to believe that I am so much more than any of those… I am growing each day… And (surprisingly) I think I like who I am becoming…
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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

* 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… Finding Hope After the Why

“Why?… Why did you leave me here?”

I tend to ask that question a lot, especially on mornings like today. Mornings where it feels like the world is falling down around me… I know the world has never been a perfect place. However, over the last few days (months even) when I have woken up, the news has been filled, absolutely overflowing, with sickness, death, anger, violence, and division. You name it, it’s there and it’s awful. All I want to do is crawl back in bed and cry.

I won’t lie. When the world becomes more that I think I can handle, I find myself wishing above anything else to have Bruce beside me once again… Holding me tight and telling me that he’s got me… I am safe… Reassuring me that everything will be okay. That’s what he did… That is where I felt completely safe… But that was then, and this is now… He is not here… I AM alone…

I know this isn’t about me… I know I’m not an any immediate danger. There is no one threatening me in any way. In fact, our little town actually came together as a community yesterday (yes, everyone) to watch and celebrate the first manned rocket launch since 2011. Our many differences made no difference… Everyone stood as one – watching and cheering. It was such an inspiring contrast to so many other things happening.

Yet, it is those other events that I see on the news – illness, poverty, feelings and attitudes that have been brewing and dividing us for years – that breaks my heart. How do I reconcile what I see on the news happening in the communities around me with what I just experienced outside my own door? I know they are both real… And that scares me, too.

I know Bruce would say that the river doesn’t try to move the rocks, but flows around them… While I know he was talking about accepting life as it happens, I also know he wasn’t saying to accept maltreatment. His support was one of the biggest healing factors after the chaos and violence of my first marriage. He was a cautious man… my “gentle giant” who believed in being safe in a world that can sometimes feel out of control… Which is why I still find myself wanting him here… beside me… holding me… I want him to be the strong one for a while… I’m tired. (Yes, I guess, that probably does sound selfish. I’m just saying how I feel.)

Earlier this week, I listened to a Dr. Edith Eva Eger, and I must say that this morning her words are helpful. She is a holocaust survivor and a psychologist who deals with trauma… Something this country is overwhelmed with right now. I think that is what caught my attention… We have all had trauma in our lives. However, it is how we deal with it that makes the difference.

She talked about how trauma has two sides – the victimizer and the victimized… And she chose that wording carefully, because while a person may be victimized, that doesn’t mean you have to be a victim. Being a victim, according to Dr. Eger, is an attitude… And since an attitude comes from within us, that makes it a choice. Let me be very clear, trauma is real… Victimizers and victims are very real. It’s our attitude that determines our response, and our response determines whether we are victims or survivors.

The truth is we can find ourselves being victimized by all kinds of things – situations, people… and even our own minds. Yes, our own minds. Dr Eger talked about how when we allow ourselves to be in “victim mode,” we create our own “concentration camp” within our minds with ourselves as both the captors and the victims. She also said that each of us has the potential to be like Hitler and like Mother Teresa (not “or”) – no one is perfect… We all have good and bad within us. It is all about the choices we make… I know she is right… I know Bruce would say the same… to face whatever is before me with love, compassion, peace, and the presence of mind to remain calm and safe… To be true to who I am and who I want to be.

In my first marriage, I remained a “victim” for 20+ years before I finally left. However, even then, I stayed a “victim” in my own mind for many more years, as I allowed my ex-husband’s words to terrorize me. Thankfully, Bruce was the voice of reason that helped me change the “talk” going on in my own mind and the hope that helped me work my way out of that mindset.

Still, it didn’t end there… That mindset is a tough battle to overcome…

When Bruce died, I must admit that I didn’t just grieve for him… The first few years found me in a dark, dark place… I was definitely in “victim-mode” as I struggled with the reality of his death. Back then I did a lot of “why did you leave me here” type thinking.

As you may remember, last week I wrote about those years, the legacy Bruce left behind, and how I am learning to embrace it. This week has pushed me a little farther… It has been a “do you believe it enough to live it” kind of week. Dr. Eger was a fabulous reminder of how important it is to put my money where my mouth is… How to handle the “captors” in my own head and not let fear and frustration take over my mindset… All the same things Bruce had said and would continue to say if he were here.

So… That is where I am… Yes, I would give anything to have him here… Yes, I asked his picture again this morning why he left me here to figure all this out by myself… And, more importantly, while I still miss him terribly, I know I am fine… Life is good, and I can do this!

So… This has been my week. What about yours? Do you ever find yourself in “victim mode” and struggling to get out? It’s normal… That is a rabbit hole that tugs us further and further down, until we force ourselves to look at the world from another angle, and that’s not easy. We would love to hear your story and share a virtual hug. If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

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

* 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… Looking for Signs

“Well, that’s it. You see what you want to see, and you hear what you want to hear.” ~ Harry Nilsson, The Point

When Bruce died, I read and heard about so many people who received signs from the people they had lost. Since it didn’t seem to be everyone, I figured, who knows… Maybe Harry Nilsson got it right… Maybe we see what we choose to see or ignore what we choose to ignore. As for me… I was hoping for signs… Even to this day, I continually look for signs from Bruce… And he has sent them. Signs that he is here. Signs things will be okay. Signs that let me know I am not alone.

One of the first signs I recognized was pelicans…

I have always loved pelicans. They are a symbol of sacrificial love and are often seen depicted in churches. After Bruce’s memorial, I was awestruck as a flock of 21 pelicans flew overhead. In that moment, it seemed so right… A great reminder of Bruce’s love – unconditional and sacrificial – never one to put himself first. Even today, whenever I see a pelican, I find myself whispering, “I love you too, Babe.”

Other signs have included objects (with some significance to Bruce and I) being moved. (I’m a bit picky about where things belong, so I definitely notice when something is moved.) For example, a friend gave me a worry doll after Bruce passed away. It lays on my bedside table in front of my lamp. One morning when I awoke, it was missing. I looked on the floor, but it wasn’t there. A few hours later, as I sat down to write in my journal, I found it. It had moved across the room, onto my desk. It was sitting in the center of a palm-frond Cherokee rose given to me by Bruce when we were on a vacation in SC.

Another sign involved our foosball table. Bruce and I loved playing foosball. Whenever we played, he always flipped his men nearest his goal, so he wouldn’t block himself, if he took a shot. When Bruce died, I was alone… I wasn’t playing foosball. As I mentioned, I am a bit particular, so I would always make sure the men were lined up precisely. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I would walk by the table to find his men flipped upside down in “true Bruce fashion.” (Granted, now I have an 8-year-old little boy in the house, so I no longer pay attention to the foosball men.)

Then of course, there was the butterfly dream when this whole cancer thing first started. Because of that dream, butterflies have come to symbolize Bruce’s presence and guidance throughout this ordeal…

I live in a small town. While we have a cancer center, my care there was not instilling confidence or trust. My questions were not being answered. Instead, I was consistently told, “This is how we treat all cancer here. Just do it.” But that didn’t work for me… I’ve done my homework, and I know there are different treatment options out there. Breast cancer is not a cookie cutter disease with one cookie cutter treatment.

So, the more I was dismissed, the more I dug in my heels. Finally, a saint within the system recognized my frustration, and I was given a referral to a (very large) breast cancer clinic just a few hours away.

As we walked into the first building 2 weeks ago, my sister nudged me and pointed… There on the wall was a mural of butterflies larger than me. I smiled. Maybe this was a sign… It sure felt like it. We took the elevator upstairs to the breast clinic. There on the wall was a metal sculpture of hundreds of butterflies. At that point, I knew this was where I needed to be… This is where I could relax in the hands of doctors who would treat me with the latest knowledge, treatments… and respect.

Sure enough… my questions have all been answered. I have been given options… And my choices have not been second guessed. But that’s not all…

This past week, we were there for my pre-surgery work-up. I walked into the hotel room feeling apprehensive and a bit sad – still wishing more than anything, that Bruce were here beside me. I put down my bags and looked around. There on the wall was a beautiful painting of a pelican… A whispered, “Thank you, Babe… I love you too,” instantly escaped my lips.

And while I know I won’t be able to feel Bruce physically beside me tomorrow, I still know, without a doubt, he is here… And in my heart, I know I am where I am supposed to be, because he sent me here.

While everyone deals with loss, grief and life in their own way, sometimes new trauma is that much harder to handle simply because those we loved are no longer beside us… It can feel lonely and overwhelming. However, being open to the signs that our loved ones are still with us, can have a miraculous affect on our outlook. These were my thoughts and reactions this week as I prepare to undergo surgery and the follow-up treatments. Maybe something in this feels familiar… Perhaps you too have experienced something similar. If so, we are here, you are not alone.

If you would like to share your experience or if you need a helping hand or even a virtual hug, let us know… we are here for you. To leave a comment or story, go to the comments and leave us a note. * Who knows… your story may the answer for someone else.

Quick Note: I am not sure how this next week will play out, and if I will be able to post next week. Please know that I will do my best to be here. Thank you for your good thoughts, prayers and positive vibes as I prepare to “fight the good fight!”

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… How I deal with a “family” holiday

“Trauma creates change you don’t choose.

Healing is about creating change you do choose.“

~ Michelle Rosenthall

Thanksgiving is one of those holidays that in my mind is a “family” holiday. It has always been a holiday where family comes together and the day is centered on playing, the sharing of stories, laughter and love. As a child, my family always spent the day at one of my grandparents’ homes. I loved playing with my cousins and listening to the grown-ups talk.

In my first marriage, we lived too far away from either of our families, so the day was spent with friends and strangers who would have otherwise spent the day alone. Everyone pitched in and the day was spent sharing what we had… food, stories and friendships.

When Bruce and I were married, I loved Thanksgiving! Because we were in Michigan, we usually spent the day with his family… until we moved to Florida. However even then, we always managed to have someone in the family with us for Thanksgiving… even if only for a few hours.

However, when Bruce died everything changed…

The first year I couldn’t bring myself to celebrate anything. I didn’t feel thankful. I was still hurting too much. The idea of celebrating a “family” holiday, when the person I love was gone was more than I could handle. I wasn’t interested… Just the mere idea of the day hurt.

So instead, I ignored the holiday completely. I spent the day at a theme park with my youngest daughter and her friend. Most of the day is a blur… But it created the distraction I needed, while still allowing me to spend time with someone I love.

The next year, I was still hurting but there were things I was thankful for… especially my family. It felt right to celebrate the day again. This was the year I spent most holidays with my second daughter and grandson’s family. The effect of that little Bubba on my healing was (and is) amazing.

Last year, the third year, I traveled to merry old England to spend the holiday with my oldest daughter and her husband. A first it seemed so odd to celebrate Thanksgiving in a country that does not share this holiday. Yet, it soon became fun as everyone else seemed eager to pitch in… They were so curious and more than happy to help us find all the “traditional foods” we needed for our feast.

This year was different… It was my fourth Thanksgiving without Bruce, yet it was most like the first. That probably seems a little strange since now I have a home once again filled with love and people. However, this was my daughter’s first year without her son (my grandson). He had left the weekend before to spend the holiday with his father. This was a first for all of us. It felt strange and wrong… There was definite grieving for a family (and a tradition) gone.

While we knew we could have still had a “traditional” meal, we both felt the day would have been too empty without our little Bubba. So, we left as well, and spent the holiday at the beach… Instead of turkey and stuffing, we feasted on meat, cheese, bread and wine. Instead of a room filled with family, there were two of us…

There were tears and a bit of sadness… I missed Bruce… and I missed having that little guy to make me smile… to give us hugs and tell us that he loves our little family. However, all was not lost… There was also relaxation, great conversation, laughter… and the knowledge that we would be a family again in just a few short days.

That day was yesterday. How happy we were (and are) to be together again… Things feel right today with this little Bubba filling the house with his endless love. In fact, the only thing still missing is Bruce…

This year was my fourth Thanksgiving without him… my love, my Bruce. I would love to be able to say that it has gotten easier through the years, but that would be a lie. It is still just as hard. I still miss him… I still cry and grieve for him… The only difference seems to be the tools I have learned to help me through this grief…

And many of those tools I learned from my littlest Bubba – His innocent love of life reminds me that life goes on… And it is up to me to find those things worth celebrating.

What about you? Did you or have you struggled with celebrating the holidays after your loss? 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?

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