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  1. What a beautiful post. It is amazing that the placement of words can be so inspiring and comforting. Thank you for sharing your gift (and your life) with all of us.

  2. Brenda, You have created a wonderful safe haven here where people can come together and share their deepest most painful feelings of loss, and maybe, just maybe feel a tiny bit better knowing all who are here reading their stories feel their pain and are here to offer any help they can.

    Thank you for sharing your wisdom.

  3. Out of all the books I read after my son died, one called A Time to Grieve (by Carol Staudacher) was the most helpful and meaningful. Just thought I’d pass this along, in case anyone is interested.

  4. This was the first link that popped up in my news feed. I felt compelled to read it since I gave birth for the first time to my beautiful son on Monday and buried him Friday. I wake up daily feeling ripped in half not knowing how I make it through each day.

    1. What a terrible loss. To get to know him just a little, aside from the time he spent inside you, only to lose him. An unimaginable loss. You will feel ripped in half, chewed up and spit out. There’s really nothing to do but get through it the best you can. The point is just to get through the day, however you can. We’re here for you. I’m an email away.

    2. I’m so sorry Janele. I hope you have some people around you who love you and can support you as you grieve the loss of your little son. I have had a daughter pass away, and I have gotten a lot of comfort from reading Brenda’s posts about grieving. It doesn’t matter the age of the loved one who was lost, or even if it was a child, a husband, a sibling, a parent, or a pet, the feelings of grief can be similar and the main thing is to find people who simple want to share and give support and not push you to move faster through the process than you can go. This blog is a good place to find that kind of gentle support.

  5. What sorrow and support I am reading about today. This is a good blog for so many persons. Thank you, Brenda. The quote by Leonard Cohen is one of my favorites.

    My deepest sympathies to Elaine, the comment above, who just lost her son, as well of the other losses noted.

    1. No one wants to be in this club. The club of the grieving. But at some point, everyone will be a part. To love is to eventually lose. A natural but brutal part of life. It doesn’t matter if the death is sudden or you know it’s coming. It doesn’t matter if it’s a person or a beloved pet that shared you life with you. You just have to keep going until you’ve walked through to the other side. That is what grief is all about.

  6. Since losing my son, Joseph Anthony Suarez, 4 weeks ago (5/29/18), ive searched and searched various blogs and mom grieving articles, i am officially in this club of a grieving parent! I came across your site and it has given me the motivation ( what little i have) to write. Joe was my only son, he was my first born, he died suddenly and very unexpectedly. Monday, 5/28/18, he came home and left to go hangout with friends…Tuesday morning 5/29/18, i received a call my son was deceased. I am still in disbelief after 4 weeks. I have his ashes in a Urn on my dresser on our bedroom. My heart shatters every day..my body shakes when i think too hard..his birthday is 8/31. The monday after his Celebration of Life..i almost died. I wanted to be with my son. But..i am still breathing. I have 2 daughters (24 & 20) plus a 2 yr old. granddaughter. Not Today…it wasnt my time. I feel so empty. Joe was my “person” we were extremely close. This pain..its unbearable.

    1. Hello Elaine, I am so, so sorry for the passing of your dear son Joe. My daughter, Kaitlin, died at age 29 in August 2016. I will tell you this much — you already have great wisdom within you and you’ve spoken it — “But…I am still breathing.” Hang onto that phrase, repeat it often, write it on post-it notes and put them everywhere to remind you that you are still capable of breathing, and you need to keep breathing. You can still breathe, and it is what you are supposed to do. It might be all that you can do. Do it for yourself and for your daughters and granddaughter and even for your son. They all need for you to keep breathing. If you can’t form any other coherent thought, can’t accomplish anything else, just do that much — keep breathing.

      Also, there is so much wisdom in your phrase, “But…I am still breathing'” that I am going to write it down myself and maybe even embroider it on a pillow or something, so I see it every day. I do sometimes still forget to take a breath, and find myself feeling frozen in shock. Just like Brenda is doing with her posts on grief, you have given others some helpful and wise information, even in the midst of your deep grief and pain. Thank you.

    2. It is unbearable. The book I referenced is helping me. Just reading wise words from other people. Writing my thoughts is helping me, because that’s always how I’ve made sense of the world. The life and breath gets sucked out of you, like you’ve been punched over and over. We’re all here for you.

    3. Elaine (and Lynx) – I hope you see my reply. I am so sorry for the loss of your children. It is beyond horrendous. It is a loss that NO parent should ever, ever have to go through. I lost my firstborn son, Philip in September 2009. He was 21 years old. If either of you ever want to email me to talk – I am here to listen. You may email me at [email protected].

  7. Dear Darlene and Janice , Losing a husband, helpmate and soulmate is the most devastating blow that women in very long marriages have to deal with daily. Your husbands found goodness and greatness in you and that is why your marriages stood the test of time. Allow others to help you through your grief and work through the acceptance stage of grief. May God bless you and help you mend your broken hearts.

    1. I can’t even imagine being with someone that long and then losing them.

    2. Sometimes it’s not just about the length of the marriage, but the intensity of it. I just lost my husband of 5 years. The pain that I feel having lost my best friend , my soul mate, the father of my children, is razor sharp. I feel like the future that we planned has been stolen , the man I dreamed a dream of growing old with is gone, and I find myself sadly questioning all that is good in the world.

      1. My heart…for you…..
        Five years of closeness is long… I’m breathing in… imagining your pain…that only you exactly know….
        Agony… ache constant pain……
        Man I hope a single thought, nature moment animal…. places a slight smile for a nano second on your face this day…
        You have my human support…. I love you…as the next tear inevitably comes…. know this….you survived another painful minute, second… n you are an idy biddy amount closer to a state of peacefulness than you had been……
        I can’t empathize but can strongly attempt to sympathize…. I wish it were 2016 myself… for you… (for me)…. breathing, breathing…. supporting…as I too receive support…..
        Shalom…….(till nxt time)
        Cm

      2. Yes, I know how you feel about not knowing about good in the world. You wonder, you question. Because that is natural. What you are feeling is perfectly natural. Let yourself grieve, ask your questions, just get through the day for now.

  8. I lost my husband of 48 years recently. Only those who have experienced such a traumatic loss can understand the deep sadness that the void creates. I so empathize with you and Darlene. I read something the other day that is so true….losing my husband put a hole in my world that I walk around during the day and fall into at night. Love and blessings to you and Darlene.

    1. Oh so true. Nights, the silence, the going to bed alone, all is hushed but the beating of my own heart and the memories swirling thru my head, the loneliness of not being able to reach out and hold a piece of my world that is lost forever. Love to you and all who share in the grief. Thanking Brenda for sharing.

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