“I am trying to make
the best of it, but
if you want to know
the truth —
it breaks my heart
still, every day,
to live in a world
where there's
no you.”
“What does loss look like, in your body? Where is it? It feels like an air bubble stuck in your psyche. It feels like peering down into a deep hole. The vertigo of that. The potential for obliteration. It’s in your stomach. Your spleen. Or it’s just your heart losing its mind.”
Source: Sandwich
“Eternal bonds are formed on the battlefield.”
Source: Praying the Word of Grace: The Revival of a Grieving Father's Soul Through the Simple Practice of Scripture-Based Prayer
“I keep my photos in black and white because my life lost color after they died.”
Source: They Both Die at the End
“If we could communicate fully, there would be no need to communicate. If we could love perfectly, there would be no need to love. If we could finish grieving, there would be no need to live. If we could touch completely, there would be no need.”
Source: Your Emergency Contact Has Experienced an Emergency
“Grief can be a kind of exhaustion, after all.”
Source: A Botanical Daughter
“Life isn’t about getting everything right; it’s about finding the beauty in the messy, imperfect process.”
Source: Subversive Acts of Humanity : A Survival Guide for Choosing Evolution over Self-Destruction
“I put flowers on Algernons grave about once a week. Mrs Flynn thinks Im crazy to put flowers on a mouses grave but I told her that Algernon was special.”
Source: Flowers for Algeron
“Every night I want to be Heathcliff with Cathy tapping at the window. I want to be Hamlet on the windy battlements. I want the Flying Dutchman to dock. I want what everyone who has lost someone wants: a visitation.
Every second, someone dying is promising to come back from the dead. Every hour, waiting for it to happen, someone living notches up another hour lost.
For the Dead, time stops. For the living, time slows. I am in slow-motion now. It takes me twice as long to clean my teeth, half the morning to make coffee and wash the cup. When I go shopping, I don't remember what I need.
That's because it's you I need. I stare at the bag of potatoes, the packet of bacon. Absurd. Go home.”
Source: Night Side of the River
“How could I not go on talking to you? How could I not expect to see you when it's the end of the day? Our life together was many things, concrete, tangible things, that included bacon, potatoes, coffee and toothpaste, but it was also a pattern. We had flow, colour, texture. We were the originators and makers of the shared life that we worked on every day. Now, I have to work on it alone. What I have are memories. The past. The present is no longer a work in progress.”
Source: Night Side of the River