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Death Of A Parent Quotes

Browse 26 quotes about Death Of A Parent.

Death Of A Parent Quotes

“...he said when his mother was dying he had been certain she would not die, certain until he was not certain, and when he finally knew she was dying, was not sick but dying, he saw how much she wanted to live, until the pain took that from her, and she wanted to go, or did not want to go, but needed to go, needed to go even more than she wanted to stay, and he had not been ready for that, for his mother to need to leave, and it was a terrible thing to see.”

“Skinny as Mum was, she'd always had a good appetite, so when she couldn't eat her roast potatoes I knew the end must be nigh. [...] We opened our presents and Mum put a polka-dot shower cap on her head and let us take pictures of her in it, which was most unlike her, she liked to be a bit dignified about things. This was another indication that she knew she was dying. Other signs to look out for are when an elderly person starts giving away their things – usually about two or three years before they die – and if they insist, rather aggressively, on returning anything they've borrowed or get annoyed if you give them gifts – they don't want any more clutter.”

“Each man lives in his own universe and when he dies the world is over”

“In Sri Lanka, nothing succeeds like death-it is the ultimate validation. The man you hate in life becomes instantly your idol in death. Any neglected artist can take heart; reviled whilst alive, he only has to wait patiently for death to become the national hero he has always yearned to be.”

“...often he did not have the energy to think, but when he did, he thought of what made a death a good death, and his sense was that a good death would be one that did not scare his boy, that a father's duty was not to avoid dying in front of his son, this a father could not control, but rather that if a father did have to die in front of his son, he ought to die as well as he was able, to do it in a way that left his son with something, that left his son with the strength to live, and the strength to know that one day he could die well himself, as his father had....”

“I'd always written how grief was hollow. How it was a vast cavern of nothing. But I was wrong. Grief was the exact opposite. It was full and heavy and drowning because it wasn't the absence of everything you lost - it was the combination of it all, your love, your happiness, your bittersweets, wound tight like a knotted ball of yarn. - Florence Day”

“Only then did he hear the small gasp—a soundless cry—and feel his mother’s cold fingers tightening on his arm. He turned toward her. Saw the red stain spreading across the front of her dress where the sword had driven in. Through him. Through her. There, just above her heart. The too-small hole of a too-great wound. His mother’s eyes met his. “Rhy,” she said, a small, disconcerted crease between her brows, the same face she’d made a hundred times whenever he and Kell got into trouble, whenever he shouted or bit his nails or did anything that wasn’t princely. The furrow deepened, even as her eyes went glassy, one hand drifting toward the wound, and then she was falling. He caught her, stumbled as the sudden weight tore against his open, ruined chest. “No, no, no,” he said, sinking with her to the prismed floor. No, it wasn’t fair. For once, he’d been fast enough. For once, he’d been strong enough. For once— “Rhy,” she said again, so gently—too gently. “No.” Her bloody hands reached for his face, tried to cup his cheek, and missed, streaking red along his jaw. “Rhy …” His tears spilled over her fingers. “No.” Her hand fell away, and her body slumped against him, still, and in that sudden stillness, Rhy’s world narrowed to the spreading stain, the lingering furrow between his mother’s eyes. Only then did the pain come, folding over him with such sudden force, such horrible weight, that he clutched his chest and began to scream.”

“We all want to become more than we are, we want to live forever, that is why we hate death and create the afterlife.”