I still loved Granny. It flowed out of my chest. With Granny gone, where would my love go?
death death-of-a-loved-one love
On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend's life also, in our own, to the world.
life death confidence world living life-and-death promise friend death-of-a-loved-one fates
Staring out to sea, I finally forced myself to stop thinking of her as someone still somewhere, if only in memory, still obscurely alive, breathing, doing, moving, but as a shovelful of ashes already scattered; as a broken link, a biological dead end, an eternal withdrawal from reality, a once complex object that now dwindled, dwindled, left nothing behind except a l like a fallen speck of soot on a blank sheet of paper.
death memories death-of-a-loved-one
What attention would death pay to his pathetic voice? He was powerless without her.
death death-of-a-loved-one
There will always be a part of you that misses her. You'll see something that reminds you of her and want to tell her about it, only to realize she's not there anymore. Then you'll feel her loss all over again. (Ravyn) You're not helping me, Ravyn. (Jack)I know, buddy. But you will eventually make peace with yourself, and that's the most important thing. Eventually, you'll even be able to smile again when you think about her. (Ravyn)
death loss death-of-a-loved-one
Once ruffle-skirted vanity table where I primped at thirteen, opening drawers to a private chaos of eyeshadows lavender teal sky-blue, swarms of hair pins pony tail fasteners, stashes of powders, colonies of tiny lipsticks (p.39)
poetry death memoir death-and-dying mother verse poetry-quotes cancer death-of-a-loved-one
Oh. She heard it too-no waters coursing, canyon empty, sun soundless- and the beast your life nowhere hiding (p. 103)
poetry life death memoir conflict death-and-dying letting-go healing hate poem mountains grieving poems mother grief son daughters verse memoirs cancer dying death-of-a-loved-one new-york alcoholism death-and-love
I could simply kill you now, get it over with, who would know the difference? I could easily kick you in, stove you under, for all those times, mean on gin, you rammed words into my belly. (p. 52)
.. Gripping the rim of the sink you claw your way to stand and cling there, quaking with will, on heron legs, and still the hot muck pours out of you. (p. 27)
poetry life death memoir conflict death-and-dying healing hate poem mountains grieving poems mother grief son daughters verse memoirs cancer dying death-of-a-loved-one new-york alcoholism death-and-love
Blue-gold sky, fresh cloud, emerald-black mountain, trees on rocky ledges, on the summit, the tiny pin of a telephone tower-all brilliantly clear, in shadow and out. And on and through everything everywhere the sun shines without reservation (p. 97)
poetry death conflict death-and-dying healing hate poem poems mother grief son daughters verse memoirs cancer dying death-of-a-loved-one death-and-love
I'd much rather be hold up with a ball of yarn, tucked inside the safety of the house with my mother. Out there, you must come to grips with the rot and bone, bloom and disintegration. It's part of the world, this ruthlessness, this severed leg, this sun-bleached skull. I can't really stand it. All the signs point toward change, and all that means is death. - 140-141
death-and-dying grief death-of-a-loved-one
And then I feel guilty, because I know all these offers are made in vain. I know I cannot get my mother back healthy for a day... My mom is sick, sick and dying, and no bargaining will change that. And it's in all the books, bargaining, which makes me embarrassed. Look at me grieving my textbook grief. - 150
As I walk through the redwood trees, my sneakers sopping up days of rain, I wonder why bereaved people even bother with mourning clothes, when grief itself provides such an unmistakable wardrobe.
death grief death-of-a-loved-one
When my husband died, people kept telling me not to cry. People kept trying to help me to forget. But I didn't want to forget.. So I realize, that if it's hard for me, how much harder it must be for you.
inspirational-life memories remembering death-of-a-loved-one
When his wife was at his side, she was also in front of him, marking out the horizon of his life. Now the horizon is empty: the view has changed.
marriage death-of-a-loved-one
It was one of those rare times when remembering the dead was more inmportant than tending to the needs of the living.
death-and-dying memories remembering death-of-a-loved-one
They sat quietly together for a few minutes, Joe holding Fiona's hand, Fiona sniffling. No flowery words, no platitudes passed between them. Joe would have done anything to ease her suffering, but he knew nothing he might do, or say, could. Her grief would run its course, like a fever, and release her when it was spent. He would not shush her or tell her it was God's will and that her da was better off. That was rubbish and they both knew it. When something hurt as bad as this, you had to let it hurt. There were no shortcuts.
death death-and-dying sorrow unhappiness death-of-a-loved-one
It was the sound of a thousand hungry children crying, ten thousand widows tearing their hair over their husband's graves, a chorus of angels singing the last dirge on the day of God's death.
sorrow death-of-a-loved-one
Where did my friend go? Was there a place they all gathered, the lost and self destructive? Was there a room they put them in? Necks burnt with rope or holes in their skulls. Beach-water bloated. I will know this at the end of my conversation with life. I will speak and laugh until my tongue falls out and then I will know this. I will know because he will tell me when I see him. How will I enter the theatre? With a hole in my head or exploded by sea. Wrists.
suicide death-of-a-loved-one
Because it was all I wanted to fucking know. It was all I wanted to know in this fucking world: where did the beautiful boys go? Where did the beautiful boys go? Where the hell did they go?
Nothing mattered and nothing existed and nothing would. I could twist this wheel and GO towards that wall. I could swing this thing into a truck (HEAD ON). You were everything to me. Come back and I will tell you.
He was dead. No trace of pain, no sufferings, no victimization.
inspirational death-and-dying death-of-a-loved-one
There are things far worse than death, for when it comes to us it is final. What lies beyond it is a matter of faith in what we had hope for.
death death-and-dying r-alan-woods death-of-a-loved-one
There came a moment in this journey when I freely realized that the lives most of lead are small. Important, but small. Our radius reaches family, clients, friends for whom we do selfless and amazing feats. But our sphere of influence is local.. So our illnesses/deaths are small, too. Not unimportant. Just local in nature.. - 209
death-and-dying death-of-a-loved-one
They say that a part of you dies when a special Loved One passes away..I disagree..I say a part of you lives with your Loved One on the other side.
moving-on inspirational-love death-of-a-loved-one death-and-love
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