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Grief And Loss Quotes

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Grief And Loss Quotes

“Odaan sighed, a slow, breathy huff that sent shivers down Ari’s spine. She could feel it all, the pain and the memory and the deep, aching loss that would never, ever be filled. And she felt a twinge of something else too – jealousy that he had been just a bit older, had just a few more years to learn his parents in a way she would never learn hers. Would her memories be crisper now, if she had been eight, ten, twelve when they left her? Would she still see her father’s face and hear her mother’s voice? She couldn’t bring herself to ask him.”

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Book:A Vision in Smoke
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“So when the man was only a few steps away, Robert did his best to imitate the yellow bird’s call. When the notes came out, they were not the same sound as the yellow bird’s – after all, they were sung in a frog’s voice. But whatever differences there were between his and the yellow bird’s sound, there was also an obvious likeness that was easy for the man to catch. For, by fate or good fortune, Robert had stumbled across a man who had a deep passion for music. And for a moment, the man froze in surprise at what he had just heard this small frog do.”

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Author:Steve B McGlaughlin
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“I think you did it because you were brave.” “Brave, is a big word, Robert! Too big. A word you would have to live up to if such a word was to find its way around to certain groups.” “But what you did was brave, Baz.” “But, Robert, the point is, I don’t remember how I did it. So please do not tell anyone what you saw – they will expect me to do it again. Can you imagine what might happen? And now look at my other leg. It’s shaking even more than the first one. I couldn’t run if I had to. You see what I face? Let’s head back now, in case the fox comes back.” “It won’t come back, Baz,” said Robert. “I wouldn’t.”

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Author:Steve B McGlaughlin
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“The other member of the small band of friends was Daisy, a fawn-coloured dairy cow with a lovely heart. She was a gentle, kind, dreamy soul, who loved nothing more than to slowly wander the paddocks, trailing her nose through the long grass in search of an eating experience she had once had years earlier. Her inability to ever recreate that “incredible grass eating day” was a topic she often returned to.”

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Author:Steve B McGlaughlin
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“Three, 300, or 3,000 - these are the number of unknown days, a week, a year, or a decade, each far too precious little and yet, poignantly too much at the same time, to see an irrevocably declined loved one languish and suffer. That fear-ridden, irreversible release lingers in the doorway, but hesitates for reasons we don't understand, leaving us to weep with a mixture of angst and gratitude all at the same time. It is finally ushered all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Better Place. When the time finally comes, we can be enveloped in a warm cloak of long-awaited acceptance and peace that eases our own pain. It quiets the grief which has moaned inside of us, at least some, every single one of those bittersweet days, weeks... or years.”

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Book:Paths of Fear: An Anthology of Overcoming Through Courage, Inspiration, and the Miracle of Love
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“Three, 300, or 3,000 - these are the number of unknown hours, days, a week, a year, or a decade, each far too precious little and yet, poignantly too much at the same time, to see an irrevocably declined loved one languish and suffer. That fear-ridden, irreversible release lingers in the doorway, but hesitates for reasons we don't understand, leaving us to weep a special cocktail of tears made of angst and gratitude, permeating us with some of the deepest emotions we will ever know. Finally, the release is ushered all the way in, to comfort and carry our loved one to that Better Place. It also envelopes us in a warm cloak of acceptance and peace that eases our own pain. It quiets the grief which has moaned inside of us, at least some, every single one of those bittersweet hours, days, weeks... or years.” Until that day of our own flying away, and beholding our loved one again, in that Beautiful Paradise.”

DeathSufferingPeaceAcceptanceGrief And LossDeath And DyingLoved OnesTerminal IllnessAging ParentsBittersweet Life
Book:Paths of Fear: An Anthology of Overcoming Through Courage, Inspiration, and the Miracle of Love
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“Insisting that life stay the same post-loss is essentially the same as saying, “Let’s just pretend this never happened.” That’s an incredible disservice to the person, place, or thing that you lost. Did you love what you lost? If you didn’t love it, was it important, significant, influential, or a large chunk of your life? Did you have hopes, dreams, or expectations attached to it? Then it’s worth grieving its loss. And that loss will change your identity on some level.”

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Book:Permission to Grieve: Creating Grace, Space, & Room to Breathe in the Aftermath of Loss
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“Grief is like a deep, dark hole. It calls like a siren. Come to me, lose yourself here. And you fight it and you fight it and you fight it, but when you finally do succub and jump down into it, you can't quite believe how deep it is. It feels as if this is how you will live for the rest of your life, falling. Terrified and devastate, until you yourself die. But that is the mirage. That is grief's dizzying spell. The fall isn't never-ending. It does have a ground floor.”

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Book:Carrie Soto Is Back
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“Birth and death are illusions. There is no beginning and there is no end. Before this life, we were alive in our parents. And before that, we were alive in our grandparents, and our ancestors before that. One thing gets passed on to another, one form changes into another, and just as in death, our energy passes on.”

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Book:Aloneness to Oneness: 22 Life Lessons to Change the Way You See the World
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“There should be a word for the ability to stop crying about a past pain even though it's still in you. There should be a word for living. Yes, that's it. There should be a word for continuing to live when a part of you has died. There should be a word that sums that up. And the longer you live, the more that word should become a part of you. Because the thing of it is, every day that the person is missed feels longer and there's nothing you can do about it. Nothing you can do to share the long, beautiful days which they are not a part of.”

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Book:People Like Us
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“He said my name aloud, but he was asleep. I crawled into his hospital bed with him again as best I could with all the extra paraphernalia in the way, and then the flood started. I began to cry a little bit, and then more poured out. I could not stop it. How could I know a gushing river would burst through the dam of appropriateness and strength I try to project and mix with the I-Love-Yous coming from my mouht and the giant tears I did not know were waiting behind my eyes? How do anyone's eyes stay in their head with such pressure swimming and bleeding onto a pillow? I Love you, Daddy. I am going to miss you, I thought to myself. "Good-bye," I choked out the words. "Good-bye, honey," said my sleeping, dreaming Daddy.”

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Book:The Path of Grief: & the Imagined Future
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