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Mourning Quotes

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Mourning Quotes

“Adam Kuambiana umerudi nyumbani ulikotoka, ukiongozwa na imani na mwanga wa wale uliowapenda na kuwapoteza. Hatuwezi kukumbuka kwamba umetutoka bila kukumbuka kwamba uliishi, na kwamba maisha yako yalitupa kumbukumbu nzuri tusizoweza kuzisahau haraka. Jumanne, siku ya kuuaga mwili uliokuwa ukitumiwa na wewe, wengine watasema Kwa heri lakini mimi nitasema Asante! Asante kwa sababu ya kipaji chako. Asante kwa sababu ya kujitahidi kwa kadiri ya uwezo wako wote, kutoa sauti kwa wale wote waliokuwa hawawezi kusikika. Asante kwa sababu ya kuacha dunia katika hali nzuri kuliko ulivyoikuta wakati ukiingia, na Asante kwa sababu ya maisha yako. Tukiendelea kuomboleza kifo cha Adam Kuambiana hapa duniani, wengine wanasherehekea kukutana naye huko mbinguni. Mchungaji wa uhai wa wote Mungu wa mbinguni ailaze roho yake mahali pema peponi: Yeye ni mwandishi wa hadithi ya maisha yetu na ndiye aliyeandika ukurasa wa mwisho wa hadithi ya Adam.”

“Mourning is the experience of grief that we have when something we had a deep connection to has ended. It is the feelings that we go through and the ways we express our sadness and emotions. It is both an internal and external experience that makes us feel like we are barely able to control anything happening, even ourselves and our emotions.”

“Acknowledge that some moments are just plain awful―desperate and gloomy and painful and miserable and nothing at all but anguish. No truthful, cheerful thought in the world will fix it. So let me cry awhile. Don't try to find a sunbeam where a shroud of darkness encloses me. Let me mourn. Then, after the storm, when the tears have run dry and my eyes choose to open, I will look for your rainbow of hope.”

“My Angel Sleeps by Stewart Stafford My angel sleeps, do not disturb, Painless and gorgeous in repose, In resting flight, I still see her, Her embryonic features now froze. Many times, she called me father, And hastened me to her side, Entwined as one, no one to part us, Now, the earth's youthful bride. Let me cast more soil upon you, To soften your final resting place, My heart's core I leave with you, To claim back when face to face. © Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”

“Thus ages pass, and men after men. Mourning voices of women weeping. So the world passes; day follows day, and the dust gathers, his tomb crumbles, as time gnaws it, and his kith and kindred out of ken dwindle. So men flicker and in the mirk go out. The world withers and wind rises; the candles are quenched. Cold falls the night. It's dark! It's dark, and doom is coming! Is no light left us?”

“Pain puts us in close contact with ourselves. When we are wounded by loss, we become vulnerable. It’s in that place of helplessness and hopelessness that we are broken open enough to receive light—emotions like comfort, peace, and hope flow in alongside grief. It’s as if loss shatters us so much that we have no choice but to experience heartbreak and hope simultaneously. Where we most hurt is exactly where we will best heal.”

“Wie ich heimschritt bemerkte ich mit einemmal vor mir meinen eigenen Schatten so wie ich den Schatten des anderen Krieges hinter dem jetzigen sah. Er ist durch all diese Zeit nicht mehr von mir gewichen dieser Schatten er überhing jeden meiner Gedanken bei Tag und bei Nacht vielleicht liegt sein dunkler Umriß auch auf manchen Blättern dieses Buches. Aber jeder Schatten ist im letzten doch auch Kind des Lichts und nur wer Helles und Dunkles Krieg und Frieden Aufstieg und Niedergang erfahren nur der hat wahrhaft gelebt.”

“What disappears with the death of a friend? Solomon wonders, standing in the field threatened by the storm. The funeral is over, the survivors have left, Caesar's body has been buried in the earth to which he devoted his last years. One of the things we lose, thinks Solomon, is the person we were with them, the parts of us they brought to life. With such an old friend, we are also stripped of the memory of what we once were.”

“For those whose life together is not one shiny, sunny thing, and often a mixed blessing, Mercury is the natural ruler. We were not easy, you and I. You were trouble and I am difficult. You were faithless and I am fixed. You said you had struck gold when you met me--but you loved bonds that could be broken--gold dissolves in mercury just as salt dissolves in water--but, in reality, nothing is lost. Death, though, is a different reality. You are dissolved. Into what? Into time, into space, into the leaky container that is me, who will also dissolve into time, into space. No. 80 on the Periodic Table, you are gone. But before I take up my role as the long-suffering one--the gold-band-wearing survivor who was always there and is still--I am aware that mercury makes possible the extraction of gold from poorer-quality ores. You brought out the best in me.”

“A very wise dog woman once told me that dogs find owners, not the other way around. They pick you and they choose to stay with you. In that way, they are also giving you the end of their life. The deeper the bond, the harder it is to say good-bye. I know I'd rather have any amount of time with a dog I love and suffer the mourning than not have the time at all.”

“Grief is not a disorder, a disease or sign of weakness. It is an emotional, physical and spiritual necessity, the price you pay for love. The only cure for grief is to grieve.”

“Mourning after an absent God is an evidence of a love as strong, as rejoicing in a present one.”

“Honor thy Father and thy Mother was once said, but then someone said: What if I don't know your Father? A still voice said: Does that makes him the devil? He is still someone's Father, his name has been changed, but his story is the same. Why hate when we should Celebrate. In this world of two's, you got the Mourning Son, and the Daughter of the Night. They both equal light once you make it through the night. Now, wake the funk up!”

“Temporary feelings of regret are a normal part of the mourning process. This helps us retrieve our lost dreams. If we hold on to regret, we risk trapping ourselves in a prison of unrealized dreams from which it is difficult to escape.”

“There is an art to grieving. To grieve well the loss of anyone or anything--a parent, a love, a child, an era, a home, a job--is a creative act. It takes attention and patience and courage. But many of us do not know how to grieve. We were never taught, and we don't see examples of full-bodied grieving around us. Our culture favors the fast-food model of mourning--get over it quick and get back to work; affix the bandage of "closure" and move on.”

“Sentimentalising is anathema, as far as I am concerned. It leads you into ethical problems about violence and killing and eating meat. The whole world becomes topsy-survy if you impose moralities that were evolved within human society on what a blowfly or what a parasite does... there are lots of emotions you can deduce from an animal's behaviour that are correct, but when you start saying it's feeling guilty or thinking or a loved one or mourning, you must be very careful of those feelings.”

“I know few Christians so convinced of the splendor of the rooms in their Father's house, as to be happier when their friends are called to those mansions... Nor has the Church's ardent "desire to depart, and be with Christ," ever cured it of the singular habit of putting on mourning for every person summoned to such departure.”

“Mourning has become unfashionable in the United States. The bereaved are supposed to pull themselves together as quickly as possible and to reweave the torn fabric of life. ... we do not allow ... for the weeks and months during which a loss is realized - a beautiful word that suggests the transmutation of the strange into something that is one's own.”

“The force behind the movement of time is a mourning that will not be comforted. That is why the first event is known to have been an expulsion, and the last is hoped to be a reconciliation and return. So memory pulls us forward, so prophecy is only brilliant memory - there will be a garden where all of us as one child will sleep in our mother Eve, hooped in her ribs and staved by her spine.”