#grieving loss

“I believe tears are a language that God not only speaks but also understands.” Esther Fleece Allen

only more of it, an obesity of grief,

you think, How can a body withstand this?

Then you hold life like a face

between your palms, a plain face,

no charming smile, no violet eyes,

and you say, yes, I will take you

I will love you, again.

- Ellen Bass, 'The Thing Is'

Having a randomly sad day today. I’m almost at the end of a big project that has been stressing my poor ADHD brain for a long time, and I think I’m emotional because I’m relieved.

Sadness comes in waves these days & I couldn’t be more grateful that it’s not an all day every day thing anymore. People really couldn’t go on if grief stayed at the same extremes as it was at the beginning. It hasn’t changed in size but my life has expanded far past it with new memories, and these days only happen sometimes now.

My poor brain has well-travelled grief tracks though, and something small will bring everything back up again, just as overwhelming as it was with every loss.

But poetry is such a comfort. Seeing my own experiences put into words in a way I’ve never been able to do easily reminds me that this is the human experience.

Grief – Getting To The Core And Finding Peace

As a person strives each day for solace, when experiencing the process of grief, they must try to make sense of how to get to the core of their grief. Grief does not have a set timeframe or a prior arrangement. It can begin before someone’s final death, or after a sudden death or an untimed loss of anything considered important to one’s life. Here we hope to give some thoughts on Grief – getting…

Reality Check: On Death and Dying #death #grievingloss #loss #dying

One of my favorite quotes is from a book called, What Happy People Know by Dan Baker. “Every moment that’s ever been, or ever will be, is gone the instant it’s begun. So life is loss. And the secret of happiness is to learn to love the moment more than you mourn the loss.” Notice Dr. Baker doesn’t say, “But the secret of happiness…” He says, “And the secret of happiness is…”

Dr. Baker knows, with…

Please don’t take away my grief or try to fix my pain. The best thing you can do is listen to me and let me cry on your shoulder. Don’t be afraid to cry with me. Your tears will tell me how much you care.

Please forgive me if I seem insensitive to your problems. I feel depleted and drained, like an empty vessel, with nothing left to give.

Please let me express my feelings and talk about my memories. Feel free to share your own stories of my loved one with me. I need to hear them.

Please understand why I must turn a deaf ear to criticism or tired clichés. I can’t handle another person telling me that time heals all wounds.

Please don’t try to find the “right” words to say to me. There’s nothing you can say to take away the hurt. What I need are hugs, not words.

Please don’t push me to do things I’m not ready to do, or feel hurt if I seem withdrawn. This is a necessary part of my recovery.

Please don’t stop calling me. You might think you’re respecting my privacy, but to me it feels like abandonment. Please don’t expect me to be the same as I was before. I’ve been through a traumatic experience and I’m a different person.

Please accept me for who I am today. Pray with me and for me. Should I falter in my own faith, let me lean on yours. In return for your loving support I promise that, after I’ve worked through my grief, I will be a more loving, caring, sensitive, and compassionate friend-because I have learned from the best.