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Grief And Loss Quotes

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Grief And Loss Quotes

“When we grant ourselves permission to grieve, we make the experience of grief something we recognize, something we welcome into our lives. We allow it to show up the way it wants to through feelings, identities, and actions. We write our own expectations and stories. Our grief becomes ours again and we become more ourselves again because we actively choose to experience grief.”

“While grief invites us to feel the full spectrum of human emotions, it also invites us to deepen our love for ourselves. That means feeling exactly how we’re feeling in every moment. That means meeting and embracing the darkest, ugliest, most conventionally “unlovable” pieces of ourselves and acknowledging that yes, even grief belongs to us, too.”

“you can’t skip the uncertainty of not knowing who you are. You can’t skip the reality of having an uncertain identity. It’s often the hardest part of grief, because unlike shifting feelings that can resolve themselves in minutes or hours, shifting identities can take years to resolve. Sometimes who you are is “suspended” for a very long time before you feel like you’ve found solid footing again.”

“I stood laughing in the kitchen because for the first time since my mom had died, I saw my whole self in my grief. I embraced her and let her be what she was. I didn’t reject her life, and I didn’t reject her in mine. I allowed her to show up as the messy, heartbroken, rage-filled nut that she was...and I loved her. I was delighted by her and humored by her and honored to be in her powerful, awesome presence.”

“Asking our emotions to stay predictable, easy, and flat in grief is like asking the ocean to be a smooth, glassy, back- yard pool. It’s just not possible. Can you imagine an ocean that didn’t roar and crash into the shore? It wouldn’t be an ocean, would it? We allow our humanness in grief by giving ourselves permission to experience our feelings in their fullness as they surface.”

“Grief does not want to force itself into a life, a body, or an identity it has outgrown. Grief does not want to take shelter in a new life, a new body, or a new identity it is not ready to call home. Grief wants to be given time, space, and support in the in-between. It wants to be given room to help you decide who you are in the aftermath of loss without the pressure to decide RIGHT NOW.”

“Grief looks, feels, and shows up differently to each person. Just like no two losses are alike, no two griefs are alike, either. You cannot know the full depth of another person’s experience and they cannot know the full depth of yours.”

“When Death, or adverse Fortune's ruthless gale, Tears our best hopes away, the wounded Heart Exhausted, leans on all that can impart The charm of Sympathy; her mutual wail How soothing! never can her warm tears fail To balm our bleeding grief's severest smart; Nor wholly vain feign'd Pity's solemn art, Tho' we should penetrate her sable veil. Concern, e'en known to be assum'd, our pains Respecting, kinder welcome far acquires Than cold Neglect, or Mirth that Grief profanes. Thus each faint Glow-worm of the Night conspires, Gleaming along the moss'd and darken'd lanes, To cheer the Gloom with her unreal fires.”

“There is an ocean of silence between us… and I am drowning in it.”

“When you experience loss, people say you’ll move through the 5 stages of grief…. Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance ….. What they don’t tell you is that you’ll cycle through them all every day.”

“I miss that feeling of connection. Knowing he was out there somewhere thinking about me at the same time I was thinking about him.”

“I would have followed you to hell and back... if only you'd lead me back.”

“I have poured my heart out …. And now I am empty.”

“I didn’t love you to seek revenge. I didn’t love you out of loneliness or unhappiness. I didn’t love you for any of the misguided reasons that time might convince you I did. I just loved you because you’re you.”

“It’s times like this…. when it’s over a year later and I’m still crying over you that I want to turn to you and say: See…. This is why I asked you never to kiss me.”

“I try to do something positive – I socialise more… But deep down I know the truth. An entire world of people can never replace the one that I’ve lost.”

“They say “Follow your heart”…. …. But I can’t follow you where you’re going…”

“It is the deepest of wrongs I am driven to write…. And losing you was one of them.”

“The only place I ever felt at home was with you. There isn’t a place for me anywhere anymore… I’ve been evicted.”

“Remember me a little while, Pause in the orchard where we often walked, When days were longer and the world was ours. Say, "Cara, please!" one last time, and smile. From beneath the apple tree, Glance up to where I once looked down at you. Wear, just once more, The look that said I was your love, And you were mine until my end. I knew it all the while. Miss me, but not for long. I was your joy, Don't let me be your woe, So remember me, and smile. Then let me go.”

“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”

“I loved him not; and yet, now he is gone, I feel I am alone. I check’d him while he spoke; yet, could he speak, Alas! I would not check. For reasons not to love him once I sought, And wearied all my thought To vex myself and him: I now would give My love could he but live Who lately lived for me, and, when he found ’Twas vain, in holy ground He hid his face amid the shades of death. I waste for him my breath Who wasted his for me! but mine returns, And this lorn bosom burns With stifling heat, heaving it up in sleep, And waking me to weep Tears that had melted his soft heart: for years Wept he as bitter tears. Merciful God! such was his latest prayer, These may she never share. Quieter is his breath, his breast more cold, Than daisies in the mould, Where children spell, athwart the churchyard gate, His name and life’s brief date. Pray for him, gentle souls, whoe’er you be, And oh! pray too for me!”