Grief Quotes - Page 4

I keep finding myself stifled by the company of others and then crippled by loneliness when I leave them. I am terrified and I don't even know of what, because I have lost everything already.

You attend the funeral, you bid the dead farewell. You grieve. Then you continue with your life. And at times the fact of her absence will hit you like a blow to the chest, and you will weep. But this will happen less and less as time goes on. She is dead. You are alive. So live.

Relationships take up energy; letting go of them, psychiatrists theorize, entails mental work. When you lose someone you were close to, you have to reassess your picture of the world and your place in it. The more your identity was wrapped up with the deceased, the more difficult the loss.

How many times can a heart be shattered and still be pieced back together? How many times before the damage is irreparable?

I waited for dawn, but only because I had forgotten how hard mornings were. For a second I'd be normal. Then came the dim awareness of something off, out of place. Then the truth came crashing down and that was it for the rest of the day. Sunlight was reproof. Shouldn't I feel better than I had in the dead of night.

My idea of God is not a divine idea. It has to be shattered time after time. He shatters it Himself.

Each of us has his own rhythm of suffering.

I know that it's easier to look at death than it is to look at pain, because while death is irrevocable, and the grief will lessen in time, pain is too often merely relentless and irreversible.

Saving You

The darkness takes him over,
the sickness pulls him in;
his eyes - a blown out candle,
I wish to go with him.

Sometimes I see a flicker -
a light that shone from them;
I hold him to me tightly,
before he's gone again.

When it comes to death, we know that laughter and tears are pretty much the same thing.

Grief is love turned into an eternal missing

Oh Julie, wouldn’t I know if you were dead? Wouldn’t I feel it happening, like a jolt of electricity to my heart?

I have lived with you and loved you, and now you are gone. Gone where I cannot follow, until I have finished all of my days.

Parting is inevitably painful, even for a short time. It's like an amputation, I feel a limb is being torn off, without which I shall be unable to function. And yet, once it is done... life rushes back into the void, richer, more vivid and fuller than before.

Not only had my brother disappeared, but-and bear with me here-a part of my very being had gone with him. Stories about us could, from them on, be told from only one perspective. Memories could be told but not shared.

The bird is gone, and in what meadow does it now sing?

It’s odd, isn’t it? People die every day and the world goes on like nothing happened. But when it’s a person you love, you think everyone should stop and take notice. That they ought to cry and light candles and tell you that you’re not alone.

He wipes tears off my face and then snot. He uses his hands. He loves me that much.

Ten years, she's dead, and I still find myself some mornings reaching for the phone to call her. She could no more be gone than gravity or the moon.

...what happens when you return
and find nothing
but a hollowed shell,
shingles and floor,
walls and echoes
and the light that lead you here
has now burned out
and the ones who built it
have traveled afar
and you cant go to them,
no matter what shoes you wear.