fabiochiu/medium-articles huggingface dataset:
Goodbye Gram
By: Connor Ryan
Tags: Year In Review, Loss, 2020, Grandma, Family

Goodbye Gram

“Keep the faith,” my grandma used to say.

I think if there’s ever been a year we’ve needed to hear that encouragement, that steady refrain of hope, it’s this one. And just in case 2020 hadn’t tested us enough, with a few days to go, my family lost our champion of that message. After almost 95 years, the voice we always heard and the embrace we always counted on is suddenly gone. The pain is hitting home and I’m thinking about what Grandma would say.

Through the sadness, I know there’s some comfort to be found in the spirit and the memories she leaves behind. Always with us, never really gone. It’s hard right now, but I’m trying to keep the faith.

Two of my favorite childhood memories are traditions everything else seemed to revolve around: summer vacation and Christmas dinner at Grandma’s!

In the heat of July, I’d return to her house sandy from the beach and she’d greet me with a “How’s my boyfriend?” — before gently reminding me to take my hat off inside. She never minded when I took her living room hostage and completely rearranged the furniture for whatever performance I had dreamt up. In fact, she always brought the loudest applause — just so long as I played “Blue Moon” on the piano.

She influenced the way I watched TV — learned a lot from those “Judge Judy” marathons — and even the way I ordered soda at “early-bird” dinners. “Could I have a Coke please, rocks on the side?” I must’ve been 7 or 8 and waitresses always seemed impressed, if not very confused.

On Christmas, the whole family gathered around Grandma. She was always the breakout star of our “12 Days of Christmas” singalong. Her parts varied, some years it was “Seven Swans a Swimming,” others it was “Five Golden Rings.” But whatever she sang, Gram always got the rockstar treatment as “GRANDMA! GRANDMA!” chants broke out toward the end of the night. She’d wave us off, but I could tell she really liked it.

She’s missed by many today and every day, but I’m so thankful for these for memories. Love you, Gram.

Keep the faith.
Keep Me Tethered Here
By: Solverv Gaul-Berrard
Tags: Loss, Writing, Poetry On Medium, Poetry, Verse

I was left alone, in the cold

Nights went by, slowly—with echoes

Of raindrops on a shattered pane

Succeeding, cascading, falling in waves

And shivering tides—I shifted

To absence, dropped the scales

Unbalanced and diluvian the clouds weighed

On my heart and the sky—you kept me

Tethered to your heart and though

It is now gone my chains still bind me to loss

Inescapable—your specter follows me

Wherever i hide, assuming your story has eyes

I find repose and recluse

I mourn—you

Are the shadows beneath my feet

And the sun too, the chimes and wind

You surround me, your ghost—darkly

Exudes the pain you brought with you

And bittersweet is the spectacle

Of your infusion—the living

You continue to grip slyly, as vines,

When will your branches

Suffocate my foliage—the last leaf fallen

That your void will be cleared at last

That I may carry

And you may rest
Keep Digging
By: Lori Mccray
Tags: Love, Loss, Loneliness, Joy, Poetry

(i typed this up single spaced with stanza breaks, but Medium has kerfuffled it up and i can’t fix it and the day is young, this holy-day, and am annoyed already. Ho Ho Ho).

Loss is a well dug by sorrow.

The deeper the Love,

the greater the loneliness.

Keep digging.

One surprising day,

you will tunnel

into Joy.

LBM 12/25/2020
5 Tips to Help Adults Dealing with the Death of a Sibling
By: Carla J. Curtis
Tags: Grief And Loss, Loss, Forgotten, Healing From Grief, Grief

Photo by Waldemar Brandt on Unsplash

For many adults, the death of a sibling equates to losing a best friend, confidante, voice of reason, advisor, peacemaker, and encourager with whom many fond memories are shared.

As a matter of fact, adults who have lost siblings are sometimes referred to as “the forgotten mourners” because in many cases little support is given to them. This is not necessarily on purpose. When siblings die, their parents, spouses, children, and grandchildren are usually the first people to be offered words of comfort and condolences. Yet grieving the loss of a sibling has at times been compared to having the same impact of losing a parent.

Although I have not lost a sibling, I have known, comforted, and offered condolences to enough people who have lost a sibling. During these times, I witnessed just how painful losing a sibling is to many people.

If you are mourning the loss of a sibling, here are some suggestions to help you get through the grieving process:

Remember, you are hurting too, so do not diminish the pain you are feeling about losing your sibling. Always communicate with your family members about how you are struggling. Your feelings matter. Seek help from others outside of your family to process your thoughts and feelings i.e. grief support group, therapist, clergy member, or trusted friends. Truthfully, your family members may be entirely too overwhelmed with their own grief to offer any support for you. Journal about how you feel about losing your sibling. Writing can be therapeutic. Writing down your thoughts can help release some of the pain you are feeling at the time. Create a nice memory book with pictures of you and your sibling and under each picture write a caption of why the picture makes you smile. Let go of the guilt you might have about something mean you said to your sibling or regrets you have about not spending enough time with him or her. In other words, it’s important to let go of any “unfinished business.” According to H. Norman Wright in Experiencing Grief, “Whatever is unfinished can be a barrier to moving along the path to healing.”

On the other hand, if your siblings are still living and you have unfinished business with them, remember that life is always presenting us with opportunities for new beginnings. So, why not, reach out today.

Lastly, always remember to be patient with yourself as you go through the grieving process. After all, healing takes time…
The Goodbye That Never Ends. In 2016, I lost my younger…
Tags: Loss, Grief, Sibling Loss, Tragedy, Death

The day after Christmas, my brother-in-law told my husband he was moving out. He wanted to start over. On December 30th, the cops knocked on the front door. My brother-in-law had passed. I had to break the news to my husband while he was at work. I had to tell him that his best friend in the entire world is no longer with us. He is now at peace, I pray. It’s so hard to see kind, honest people leave Earth at such a young age.

One of the hardest thing to watch was people pushing my husband’s feelings aside. They tried to force him to “get over it” after a month. Those words were said to him so nonchalantly. I’ve also started to notice that people focused on the parent’s grief and neglected the siblings. Based on research, I’ve learned that sibling grief is often ignored and they are often the forgotten survivors. Yes, the parent lost a child that day. But, this brother lost his other half — the only person who was by his side through everything and have the same memories from childhood to adulthood. The two boys were only about 13 months apart. They lived together until my husband turned 23. All of their lives, they were often left home alone. Starved and beaten together. No one will never understand my husband’s pain and the only person that could has left him.

What people don’t understand is that if siblings are close and suffered through their life together, it forms a bond stronger than others. Together, they learn the pain of disappointment, loneliness and abuse. The demons that lives inside one may often haunt the other as well. The day I passed the news to my spouse, I knew I was going to grieve for two people — my husband and his brother. I watched as the husband died piece by piece, day by day.
Prose: Not A Girl
By: Abigail Nordan
Tags: Conversations, Friendship, High School, Loss, Recovery

CW: Anorexia

I lose sleep trying to outsmart it, I sweat trying to outrun it. I don’t stand a chance against it — a starving thing will always find its prey. It pierces you with beady eyes that pop out of its head, it flashes you a gaping, cracked-lipped smile, baring its browning teeth and sallow gums. Its gaunt, emaciated body is covered in dark and grisly hair. When it finds you it waves you a morbid hello with spindly fingers and yellow nails. It moves more stealthily than you or I ever could.

I don’t know what it is that’s chasing me, but it’s definitely not a girl. First it was only a memory, one that I could repress, then it started to invade my dreams, now it poisons all my waking moments.

I walk through my school, and it’s there.

I open my phone, and it’s there.

I look in the mirror — it’s there.

It’s always a step ahead of me. It stalks me in time with the drumming of my heart in a deadly, delicate dance. It knows me intimately, far below my surface — I suspect it’s jealous of my insides. It claws at them as the void inside its hollow body deepens.

I desperately want to make it make sense.

Whatever this creature is, it should be dead.

Its muscles should have collapsed.

It should have frozen solid.

Its bones should have cracked and shattered.

Its brittle body should disintegrate at the slightest touch.

I’m starting to think its fragility is the only thing keeping it alive. Some people don’t see what I see (lots of boys my age have a wild attraction to this thing. They see weakness and therefore still see the girl).

I want out of this predatory foxtrot.

I don’t think the scary, starving thing can talk — not in a way that matters — but the girl could. Her voice was grating but her words consumed me. Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I can still hear her say it — I’m just not hungry. And I believed her.

There’s so much meat on my bones that I look at my reflection and often wince with shame. It’s not the monster I see that haunts me — it’s the girl I couldn’t save.
This Christmas, Celebrate the Lives of Those We’ve Lost
By: Melissa Bee
Tags: Personal, Loss, Self, Grief, Nonfiction

This Christmas, Celebrate the Lives of Those We’ve Lost

Photo by Jan Huber on Unsplash

Reflections of better days

As the lights on the Christmas tree twinkle, I stare out the windowpane and watch the snow fall, thinking of you. The tears have drenched my face, on and off, all day. I know there will be many more days like this to come.

You’re gone.

There is agony in saying out loud that you are no longer here. I wish it weren’t true. Truth hurts, they say. Your death brings a new meaning to this saying. I feel the earth tremble from your loss as the soul holds a painful sadness.

I can’t believe your smile has been permanently put to rest. My heart aches and I don’t know how to accept that I can’t hear your voice anymore.

You remember how we talked about everything? I do — I always will. We disagreed, more often than not, but you never judged me. We’d laugh about the stupidest things, and I still remember the first time we met. You never settled for my frown, you demanded my happiness. That made me mad sometimes, but you made me happy.

When you walked into a room, you were like the moon under a dark sky, lighting up the way. Now, you are in the sky.

I know I’ll learn to let the time pass without you, but it’s only because I have no other choice. You taught me everything except how to live without you. Learning to live without you will be the hardest lesson I’ll ever have to learn, but I shall lean on time — one day we will meet again.
Loss
Tags: Loss, Poetry

Energy has to be preserved

Is this the measure we deserve ?

The constancy

The Heat

The lifetime measured in a shared heartbeat

All transmuted when the bond is broken

To a dark dream

Unbearable even when unspoken

Pupils plagued by memories of light

Eyes dilate for shade

Haunted by bright phantoms of paradise unmade

Permanence was the grand illusion

Transience was its dissolution

Knowledge gave no wisdom in this case

Why else seek the warmth of a setting sun on our face ?
322,022
By: Michael Phelan
Tags: Coronavirus, Loss, Grief, 2020, Covid 19

Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

322,022 people and rising.

One hundred 9/11's.

Younger people who won’t have the thrill of getting fake ID’s which won’t work, causing them to walk the streets of Manhattan until dawn. Those who won’t be eyewitnesses to the future of hip hop, freeze their asses off standing in Times Square on New Year's Eve or get to an age where they’d appreciate Sinatra and Scotch following a life they are proud of.

Older folks whose hair won’t fall out or turn grey, won’t dance at their children’s weddings, won’t take nine years to rebuild that ’72 Pontiac GTO, won’t travel the world, or write the great American novel.

We each go into 2021 emptier for their losses, but hopefully having learned a thing or three.

May they Go in Peace and not in vain.
Christmas 2020
By: Kristine Gunkel Houghtalen
Tags: Christmas, Loss, Covid 19, Poetry, Spirituality

A Poem for the times

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

The veil became thin

As the melody touched my soul

A time of joy filled with such sorrow

No time for shields or fences

To deflect the pain of others

The world rejoices with hope

For a better tomorrow

As tears fill the emptiness

Left by those who were taken

By the smallest of thieves

Darkness creeps inside our minds

Hatred fills the silence

Between each peal of the church bell

Ringing in the birth of hope and peace

For an undeserving world touched by grace

The spaces left behind

Have left room for light to shine

Through our deepest darkest sorrow

Perhaps we can see the divine

For the veil is thin this Christmas
everywhere
Tags: Breakups, Love, Loss, Poetry, Romance

I love to put my scattered thoughts on paper, but I now wish to put it in one place in order to help some people find comfort in knowing they’re not alone.
How Sometimes Fallouts Hurt More Than Anything.
Tags: Friendship, Loss, Fallout, Healing, Friends

Fallout hurts as bad as breakup(yes)

I always had a hard time letting go off people who were close to me ,be it family,friends or anyone I’m close to for that matter. But specially in case of friends, it has never been my cup of tea.

I never had someone to call my best friend for more than a couple of months or sometimes a year when I’m lucky, since i was a child. So on the basis of too much of experience in this area, I can say ‘those who say fallouts doesn’t hurt as bad as breakups do are big fat liars' .

Why? You’ll only know and understand it totally once you’ll experience it. Specially when a person leaves you with no closure,these different scenarios you are making up in your head about ,where did you went wrong?

This question haunts you for so long and the desperation for closure you carry in your eyes is real. Those arguments you are having with that person in your head and in worst cases having dreams about them,where you both have patch up again.

To be very honest ,I have been through every phase I have discussed above, but the one that kills you slowly from inside and makes you hollow is the one where you see your bond fading , you witness it over the phone screen from all your chats and that pain in your heart ,when you know no matter how hard I try, nothing is gonna be same again.

It kills you inside, It eats you up. Doesn’t that sound like a freakin' real breakup. I go through severe anxiety when I doubt about my appearance , behaviour and my ability to be a friend, A good friend,I mean how bad I must be that no friend lasts more than a while.

But at the end only one thing helps;

“People may come for a reason,but in life,

Everything happens for a reason”

So you should never stop believing in this beautiful bond even it fails you million times,its worth it and it exits.
Leftover Love
By: Natasha Srivastava
Tags: Relationships, Life, Love, Loss, Heartbreak

Feels like an eternity has passed

Since I heard your voice

By now, I should have forgotten

how it even sounds,

But I haven’t

The sing song ‘I love you’ of yours

Still echoes in my head

Even though I deleted

All the voice notes I had of it

I don’t look at your pictures anymore

Yet, I remember your face with such clarity

That I can describe

Every contour and every edge

I remember how the soft curls of your hair

Felt between my fingers

The curls I didn’t really like

Yet loved, so much

I still picture you in our favourite

White & blue striped tee

And straight out of bed face

Because that’s how you look,

Every time I dream of you.

Which is very often.

You don’t send me pictures

Of the morning skies anymore

So I make it a point to wake up

And breathe in that sight

Every time the rain pours heavily

Down the glass of my window

My heart goes back

To our first airport ride

On that stormy night

I relive how we held hands,

Fingers entwined, just not letting go

My eyes tear up again

Just like they did in that moment

When you had kissed my forehead

Right before you left

When you had kissed me

Like you’d keep doing it

For a long, long time.

In the fleeting moments of everyday

I’m reminded of these tiny,

Little parts I have left of you

Triggered by the most random things

From your kind of coffee

To your brand of whiskey

And usually, I catch myself smiling,

For just a second

Just until I remember,

That a beautiful, happy memory

Is all you will ever be

It’s crazy the way this works, isn’t it?

How I have none of you, and yet

My heart is still all full of you
(in)security
By: Laurie Young
Tags: Women, Hair, Hair Loss, Loss, Insecurity

Photo by Ekrulila from Pexels

Strand by strand it circles the drain.

Fragments of former self lost in each lock.

Longing to feel the weight again.

Such security it once held.

Regret emerges from the shadows.

Foolishly taken for granted.

Layers of femininity stripped away.

A battle cry to feel whole again.

Always expecting the worst.

How far I’ve come.

I wonder if it’ll ever stop.
I’m Not Ready
By: Naomi Leilani Acosta
Tags: Loss, Grief, Grandfather, Poetry, Memories

The warmth from

Her hands receded

Where it went

I know not

I placed three fingers

Under her jaw bone

On the left side of her neck

There was no pulse

For what ever reason

I was still not convinced

I called her

By the only name

I ever knew her by

“GRANDMA, GRANDMA!!”

Basically screaming in her face

Reality was starting

To set in

But I refused to give in

To the belief

That she was gone

I grabbed both

Her shoulders

And shook her violently

“GRANDMA.., GRANDMA.., GRANDMA!!!”

A minute and a half later

I finally called

An ambulance

A sting of guilt hit me

“I should have came yesterday.”

I expected

To see her sitting on her couch

Listening to her bible stories

With her bible

In lap

She’d always say

When I came through

The back kitchen door

“Hi, my girl! I missed you!!”

Today when I got in

The house was dark

Not a single light was on

It was quieter

Than usual

It was as if

She, herself

Gave the house

Life

I feel my heart

Down in my stomach

A dread

Washing over

My face

Icy tingles

Throughout my body

Oddly enough

It’s not fear

Hovering over me

It’s something worst

I think

It might be

The beginning

Of grief

Zero hope

Of ever

Seeing her face again

When she would laugh

Her fingers

Combing through my hair

While we talked

About past relationships

Of old loves

The smell of eucalyptus oil

On her wrists

A warmed crock-pot

Full of her

Delicious chicken papaya soup

Her strong, loving embrace

Every time I was

About to leave

To go back

To my dorms

“Grandma, I’m not ready to let go, please don’t leave me.”
grief
By: Alexandria Romei
Tags: Feelings, Loss, Sadness, Grief, Suicide

there is no poem to be written

when there are no words to speak

when I am speechless

wrapped in the deepness of grief

when I am emptied of my sweetness

sitting here in salty tears

tears because there’s nothing else to do

besides cringe and sob

nothing heals this type of pain

besides staying in the depths of it

feeling every nook and cranny

of longing, sorrow, heartache, and misery

feeling it all when I could do a million things

to escape or hide

to distract from the ache, to delay the grief

in the feeling of feeling these feelings

I wonder who I am when my weakness is the world

when I crumble at remembering I’m a human

who am I when the only thing I can feel is

uncomfortable

I hate this feeling, this emotion.

when I’m fearful, I get physical to release

when I’m sad, I cry and feel it all with grace

when I’m ecstatic, I tap into and act from my heart

but this, this is inescapable

incurable

it feels like fate

I wonder where in life I went so wrong

to feel this way

I am overwhelmed, underwhelmed

going numb from the heartache of reliving

all the times my heart shattered into bits

“I can not, will not live this life in this body

for one minute longer

I want to leave, need to leave

take me away

I am ready to gracefully exit

Goodbye Earth, Goodbye humans, and my human self

Goodbye, the body of Alexandria and the life we created

Goodbye material things and memories

Goodbye sunshine, moonlight, smiles… and the world’s evil

Goodbye.

“I’m sorry” -my goodbye note

relief, yes this would bring great relief

I shouldn’t though

I mean I really really shouldn’t, I can’t.

I can turn all the reasons I should not into the reasons I should.

this is a good idea.

this is a plausible, actionable idea in fact.

something I could act on

I really might do this”

the climax of relief

truly considering ceasing to exist as I know my human self

wow.

best feeling I could ask for in the moment

like a drug, I can’t say no.

like an addiction, I can’t foresee another way out.

the sweet relief brings me back into

the painful now but now a little less so now

at least now I’m not trying to go

so that’s an improvement from

a few minutes ago

at least now we’ve worked through some pain

I feel lighter from the baggage

heavy from the leftover sadness,

the guilt that follows,

and the questioning of self-worth I’m left with

but at least I’m planning on staying

so it’s not that bad

from here I can live

I can grow a branch or two in the way I choose
The flame
Tags: Loss, Divorce, Poetry

Pale December, I wore the time like a coat that year

You were my match, and I was the flame

But as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared

My heart went cold and only ashes remained from the blame

The flame was gone, but the fire remained

And the hollow echo of his love stayed in me

But if the fire’s out, baby, how are you going to keep me warm?

And my warm is giving way to winter, like a passion fee

Pale December, I wore the time like a coat that year

You were my match, and I was the flame

But as the embers of the summer lost their breath and disappeared

My heart went cold and only ashes remained from the blame

And the hollow echo of his love stayed in me

But if the fire’s out, baby, how are you going to keep me warm?

And my warm is giving way to winter, like a passion fee

And the cold wind was born

And my warm is giving way to winter, like a passion fee

And the cold wind was born

And my warm is giving way to winter, like a passion fee

And the cold wind was born
Health Officials Provide Community Session on Coping with Bereavement and Available Support
By: Steven E Zimmerman
Tags: Bereavement, Loss, El Paso, Death, Texas

EL PASO, Texas — The City of El Paso Department of Public Health (DPH) and Emergence Health Network (EHN), the community’s largest mental health services provider, have partnered to provide bereavement guidance and counseling support resources to those who lost loved ones due to COVID-19.

In an effort to help the community learn about bereavement coping mechanisms, Emergence Health Network in collaboration with the Department of Public Health will host two community sessions in English and Spanish on Wednesday, Dec. 23, 2020. The English session will begin at 6:30 p.m., followed by the Spanish session at 7 p.m.

“Many members of the El Paso community have suffered the loss of loved ones due to the COVID-19 pandemic. Losing a loved one is associated with risk factors which can lead to prolonged grief disorder, post-traumatic stress, and other poor bereavement outcomes among relatives,” said Public Health Director Angela Mora. “Bereavement is a natural part of the human experience, but it can understandably be intensely painful, and can negatively impact physical and mental health.”

WHAT: Bereavement Coping Guidance Sessions

WHEN: Wednesday, December 23, 2020

6:30 p.m. (English)

7 p.m. (Spanish)

WHERE: Download the free Microsoft Teams application and join on the meeting on your computer or mobile app by clink on this link.

Or call in (audio only):

(915) 213–4096

Phone Conf. ID: 275 033 460#

The two sessions will be led by mental health professionals, Luis Chavarria, MBA, QMHP-CS, Manager of Community Education, and Gomecindo Lopez, LPC, Director of Community Recovery Center. They will be discussing how the community can benefit from bereavement services and provide referrals for support groups for bereavement counseling.

For more COVID-19 information to include testing, vaccination, data and prevention, visit www.epstrong.org.
dea
By: Kim Kimberlin
Tags: Death, Loss, Messy Essays, Fuck Covid 19

what do you say when there’s both nothing to say,

but everything to say?

how do you say goodbye?

i watch one parent say goodbye to her parent and hope i’ll never have to do the same.

and yet not one of us can escape this.

death.

what do you say when you’re angry

but there’s nothing left to do?

except wait, watch, listen, hope, pray, to whom, whomever’s listening.

i hope whomever is listening will have grace on us.

i hope whomever is listening shows grace to you, too.

because so many of us have faced it this year,

the death of loved ones gone too soon.

and yet what is killing us? our own humanity and lack of care for the other.

the other.

always the other.

why don’t we see that we are the other. the other is us. we’re one and the same.

there is no other.

her and i, we had our differences.

and so, indifference, i wondered if i might feel indifference for when this day would come but no,

oh no.

i’m just so sorry we weren’t closer.

all i can hope for,

for her — my dying grandmother —

myself, my mother, our families,

and for you,

is peace when we’re faced with our mortality.

that’s all i want for her now,

peace.
Great Sex
By: Terry Trueman
Tags: Sheehan, Love, Loss, Epic, Poetry

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On Regret
By: Maggie Harrison
Tags: Regret, Love, Loss, Grief, Family

via www.tobemagnetic.com, original source unknown.

Guilt

I was mean to my dad the night before he died. That’s a true thing, a fact, not an opinion. He tried to talk to me and I was in a bad mood and I ignored him. There was no fight, no reason to be upset with him. I was irritable and he was there. The next day, he wasn’t.

It’s impossible to make some things pretty because they aren’t. There are bottomless, uncomfortable, harrowing regrets, the most painful of truths because they aren’t just thoughts. They were real. They are real.

Regret, when we live in it, is staring out the window, dark-circle-eyes wistful and empty, broken songs on repeat, pulse weak. Or it’s anger, heat, getting loud and apologizing and getting loud again. Ultimately, either is staring into nothingness, vast and infuriating. Regret is a taker that always remains empty.

The show is live, no edits. All there is to do is be honest and, with care, try your best to forgive.

The Follow Up

We fought a lot. There were other days we weren’t so nice to each other. He was still alive the next day.

There were perfect days, he was still alive the next day.

And then there was the day, early June, humid air and blue sky above, that he wasn’t.

Should haves are pointless. Should haves will kill you. Should have or shouldn’t have taken a certain opportunity, held back a sharp tongue, walked away, gotten on that train without a clue or care where it was going.

Whether by your hand or not, a film reel lies still somewhere, its contents untarnished, un-manipulated, unmoving. No judgement, no interpretation, completely uncut. Time’s hands are less steel, more cement; you can break it, maybe, and take the pieces you want to take, but you can never melt or mold it into something new.

I mean, you can, but that’s also called lying. Some do this to manipulate others, most do this to self-soothe. We’ll rewind the same remix until we’ve heard it so many times that to us, it’s the original.

Regret is useful only when we’re a student of it. It has the capacity to show us where we might have hurt someone or hurt ourselves, where we made ourselves too small, it begs us to look, look, please, at two screens: the full story and our story, side-by-side. We blink, the world gets blurry, and we open our eyes to a massive mirror, held an inch from our face. It’s confrontational, but not ill-meaning.

We should have been nicer. I should have been nicer. (Whisper to myself here, remember that should haves will kill me and if I only make space for the should haves there’s no room to welcome the wills and won’ts.) You can strip it to the bones and put it all back together, then do it all over again, but understanding without action is futile at best, hopeless and vain at its worst. We choose if regret is tyrant or teacher, because if it’s present at all, there has to be something to learn, and in that we find forgiveness, bit by bit, until we have it memorized.

I promise, this is optimistic. All I’m saying is that it’s okay, or it will be. It will be.
Heartbreak Is a Bitch
By: Galit Birk
Tags: Loss, Grief, Haiku, Poetry, Heartbreak

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Living A Mother’s Worst Nightmare
By: B. Kiddo
Tags: Parenting, Loss, Karma, Motherhood, True Story

If you were to ask any mother what would be her worst nightmare involving her children, you might hear a few different answers. An accident, an illness, or maybe even death. It could be something small, like the child having more of the father’s physical features than her own. Or something big like potentially not being able to care for the child properly. For me, it was my very own childhood that shaped my greatest fear as a mother. It would eventually become my reality, turning my life into an actual nightmare. You see, when I was 4 years old, my mother lost custody of me and my two little brothers. She was 23 years old, a single mother of three very small children and struggling to make ends meet. A lot of different factors went into my brothers and I being removed from our mother’s care. We’ll save that story for next time. Today’s story is about how that moment changed all of our lives forever. My mother was devastated. Not only did they remove us from her care that very day, but they couldn’t find anyone who would take on three small children and so we were split up. My youngest brother who was just under a year old at the time was sent to live with his father, and was largely kept away from my mother and us after that. My middle brother was placed in the care of our aunt, who shared a close bond with my mother. And I was placed with my great grandmother, who at the time was caring for her elderly mother, my great-great grandmother. We went through the subsequent court procedures, and they gave my mother an allotted time to complete certain goals in order to gain back custody of her three children. Try as she might, luck wasn’t on her side. She got pregnant with my sister during that time and failed to complete her tasks. This left my brothers and I feeling quite jilted. We watched as she prepared for my sister’s birth and a year and half later, my youngest brother. We couldn’t help but to be a little jealous and slightly resentful, even though our mother remained a presence in our lives. When I became a teenager, my mother and I butted heads a lot. I remember telling her that I’d never be like her. I would never lose my children and if by chance I did, I would definitely get them back. I would never leave my children to wonder what they did wrong and why mommy never came back for them. Words I regret to this day…
The only role?
By: Sundy Gilchrist
Tags: Growth, Estrangement, Motherhood, Loss

The only role?

I sometimes ponder on the reasons why adult child estrangement is seemingly on the increase……

For me, the rejection by our adult children is because they perceive that their parents have ‘failed’ them in some way.

Their expectations on what ‘should’ have been available to them as children and young adults has not been their experience.

People who have yet to ‘wake up’, tend to blame others for their needs and wants not being met, and parents, especially mothers, seem to be an easy target.

In some ways it comes across to me as a human evolution……we are the only mammals that make our young dependant on us for such a long time…..

And if we haven’t got an Estrangement going on, the opposite problem often is a ‘failure to launch’ one. Sometimes parents continue to ‘support’ their children into their 30s and beyond…..

I seek to raise awareness of the problem.

My reason for doing this would be to help estranged parents to see that being a parent is just one aspect of our lives and not the whole reason for our existence.

It’s a role. And like any role it comes to an end. And if we have been a successful in our role, the child doesn’t need us any more.

Whether they want us in their lives is a different conversation…..

Part of the problem, I believe, is that we parents are increasingly needy of our children for our sense of self worth. There is something in many of us that needs our children to like us, appreciate us, value us.

It’s my belief that we have to find that for ourselves and allow our adult children to decide for themselves the value that they give to us…..and in doing so, give value to themselves.

Much love

Xxx
Tiny Footprint
By: Sabine Vekemans
Tags: Loss, Awakening, Spiritual Growth, Poetry, Scribe

This poem I wrote in honor of my deceased baby daughter.

In hindsight, the biggest scar in my life - the loss of my baby daughter 21 years ago - also turned out to be the greatest gift. Because she kept calling me to descent from my head to my heart. She invited me to connect myself to my intuition again. Since then my feeling journey began. Leading to the revelation that nothing shows up for nothing. That even in my biggest loss, my deepest grief or pain, there is a message of light. It led me to reconnect with my daughter on spirit level, who’s guiding me from the other side. Would I have found this consciousness if I had not lost her?

I felt called to share this poem here today - December 21th 2020 - the day of the Winter Solstice. A time where the veil between dimensions is thin. A time where we are more open and connected with the energies of the Earth. The Solstice marks the beginning of a new season depending on where in the world you live. And a new season always brings transition. Today stands out as a powerful day, not just because of the Solstice, but also due to a very rare alignment taking place this year known as the Great Conjunction. All over the world events are being hosted to energize the heart of Gaia - mother Earth - with our love and light. That appeals to my mother-heart, hence my poem today.

Thank you for reading, may 2021 bless you in every possible way.

©️ Sabine Vekemans 2020. All Rights Reserved.
Him.
By: Jes Hill
Tags: Poem, Love, Loss, Aesthetics, Poetry

Him.

The taste of cheap chapstick,

The scent of hearty wood smoke and cinnamon.

The feeling of his lips on mine,

and my heart pounding inside my chest.

Looking into his eyes

Is the only time,

I’ve ever believed

in

any kind of god.

J.

Follow for more :)
Excellent description of an extraordinarily painful event.
By: Lezlie Christian
Tags: Womens Rights, Loss, Womens Health, Internal Conflict, Reproductive Rights

Excellent description of an extraordinarily painful event. There is no mechanism in our culture to support women who experience this, whether intentional or natural. The pain is very real, and while it dims it will never go away. I’m sorry, but I appreciate not feeling quite so alone.
The Necklace
By: Nicole Brown
Tags: Love, Loss, Life, Poetry

Poetry

Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

The Necklace

that I wore a necklace made of

beads

of your honors on a mantle, and

beads

of more baby’s born oh

beads

of sweat on a humid night

your hands (God I miss them) holding my hips down,

us

blessing the folds of the thickened

summer pavilion

lightning bugs bouncing all around

that I still feel the coolness and weight of these stones

against my collarbone

these phantom pains

of a life I never lived
Is it Really Possible to Embrace Change?
By: Embrace Your Life Coaching
Tags: Work Life Balance, Loss, Change, Pandemic, Mental Health

Mental Health in the Mainstream

I want to be bold — I believe the mental health stigma has lessened because of the pandemic.

Why do I say this? I say this because people are talking about mental health and wellbeing in everyday conversations! We end conversations by saying, “Take care. Be safe”. We wait to hear the answer and listen to how people really are doing. We reach out spontaneously to check on each other and we share more of the truth.

We all have had low days since March, and as a result we have personal experiences that are recent and relatable. We have seen people in leadership positions come out and show their emotions and be vulnerable.

Because of the pandemic, we can now identify with how it feels to experience varying degrees of anxiety, depression and know the reality that you can’t will yourself out of it. It will shift and in the process we have learned new ways to adjust our expectations, cope and have been tested repeatedly.

A recent article surveyed people unhappy at work and are considering changing careers as a result of the pandemic. The people who were unhappy felt unsupported at work. Those people most satisfied with their employers were the ones who felt most supported in managing work life balance and mental wellbeing during the pandemic.

Talking about mental health is becoming the norm in the workplace. Nice.
The Loneliest Chair
By: Shannon Pike
Tags: Poem, Love, Loss, Change, Death

The Loneliest Chair

Photo by Sam Moqadam on Unsplash

I sit in the corner of the room with you,

in what feels like the loneliest chair,

Like a hot seat made to break you down,

or cause you great despair.

I try to make some sense of it,

the shock just won’t reside,

There’s nothing I can do here now,

my hands are surely tied.

I cannot take your pain away,

or reverse your early fate,

That’s a fact I’ll have to live with,

it’s all too little, too late.

So I’ll sit in this corner,

in this lonely chair,

Hold your hands and kiss you,

this last moment we will share.

In loving memory

Author’s Mother.

SLP: All rights Reserved.
Love Poem
By: Terry Trueman
Tags: Survival, Pain, Love, Loss, Poetry

Learn more. Medium is an open platform where 170 million readers come to find insightful and dynamic thinking. Here, expert and undiscovered voices alike dive into the heart of any topic and bring new ideas to the surface. Learn more

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What do you do when you want one thing so desperately, yet it costs you something you’ve treasured…
By: Ravyne Hawke
Tags: Relationships, Loss, This Happened To Me, Family, Decisions

What do you do when you want one thing so desperately, yet it costs you something you’ve treasured and adored? Earlier this year, I began a renewed relationship with my sister. We’d been on rocky terms for decades. She’d hurt me repeatedly in the past and my adored cousin knew this. He cautioned me to stay away.

My sister is the last of my immediate family. I wanted a relationship with her because I had been alienated from my brother before he committed suicide. I didn’t want her to leave this life thinking I hated her.

I didn’t heed his advice. And he, having been hurt by almost everyone in the extended family, had been hurt by me and dropped contact, permanently with me.

While I have my sister back, I mourn the loss of my cousin — the one person who knew me and accepted me. A deep, painful loss.
Fear
By: Sam R
Tags: Loss, Scared, Hurt

Fear

When you lose something in your life, we can’t comprehend the impact it will have on us. We can’t predict what we think we will react or feel like after. We can’t assume that we will be okay because even if you spend months or years convincing that you will be, when it is finally taken from you, part of you goes away with it. Part of you is ripped and stripped from you, taken from your grasps unexpectedly. It’s like watching something fall and going to catch it but even though you know where it is and you know where it will end up, you still allow it to slip through your fingertips. You watch it leave your control in slow motion, as if everything else doesn’t matter and you become numb for a couple moments. You watch everything crumble and you watch it disintegrate like it was never anything to begin with. Those who believe they are okay are fools to believe that. No one is ever okay, there is always something that is discarded in their head. That haunts them and remains something keeping them walking on eggshells. Keeps them constantly thinking, overthinking every little action they take because they are afraid to repeat history; and even with this caution, they are still somehow doomed to relive their trauma just embodied by different events or people. No one is ever okay because to be okay is to mean you are okay with everything that has happened. Some learn to cope, and others are forced to cope. Those who learn to cope tend to be happier than those who are forced to cope because learning to cope allows them to channel their energy into something they found and like while being forced to cope creates this environment for the person that is unsettling, unnatural. Being forced to cope with something leads a person more often than not to coping in an unhealthy way. I wish I knew that you should never assume your reactions to sudden changes in your life. I wish I put my efforts more towards myself rather than those that didn’t care about me. I wish I knew what I wanted so I could set a clear path for myself to work towards that goal of mine. What others do is not your responsibility and I wish I learned that a while ago.
On Grief
By: Elyse Wright
Tags: Love, Loss, Grief, Writing, Poetry

Photo by Thomas Kinto on Unsplash

To feel pain is to be alive,

But, grief is a different type of agony.

For loving so deeply for so long demands attention.

Reminding us our greatest loves are also our greatest losses.

- I miss you
The Magician
Tags: Soulmates, Loss, Passion, Love And Sex

The Magician

Photo by Taya Iv on Unsplash

When his gaze falls upon her

She becomes transparent

He sees into her, and

All those pieces that have

Never before been visible

To the naked eye

When he listens

To her speak

Her voice is sweeter

Her words weightier

Her dreams livelier

Her hopes loftier

He keeps the key

Close to his heart

When he unlocks her

Out come spilling

Her secrets, her fears

Her unfulfilled desires

And then she hears

The long lost sound

Of the music

Of her own heartbeat

His touch goes deep

Deep under the layers

Of her skin

Into her being

With him, she feels

Lighter, brighter, worthier

At night, when she’s

Wrapped up in him

And him in her

Who she’s been all day

With others, disappears

And then she comes alive

As she comes undone

When he enters her land

Her mind, her body, her soul

He finds parts unknown

Undiscovered

Ignored, left behind, walked over

By other visitors

And then she glows

She shines, she sparkles

When he turns on the light

Inside of her
Loss
By: Erika Fischer-Laine
Tags: Death, Loss, Hope, Strength

Photo by Ellie Burgin from Pexels

The final soldier,

The victory blow,

The air growing colder,

The star alone in the sky to glow,

It’s a long fight to the end,

It’s a big step to make,

It’s a battle to live and see your friends,

It’s promise many despair to break.

When you are outnumbered it is a loss,

When you have little to offer it is a shame,

When you embrace the time of death as your boss,

When everyone – living and dead – forget your pain.

Held up a shield for the final soldier,

Blocking the victory blow,

The air stopped getting colder,

Plenty of stars in the sky to glow.

The fight is coming to an end,

It was a large step to make,

You won the battle to see your future generations and your friends,

It is not a full promise, but an insight to take.

When you have your own strength, it is not a loss,

When you have a small gift, there is no shame,

When you accept that your journey is your boss,

When everyone – living and dead – accept and ease your pain.
Our Time Has Come
By: Franco Amati
Tags: Prose, Love, Loss, Poetry, Scuzzbucket

Photo by icon0.com from Pexels

It’s run its course

this love of ours

The final go around

is what this is

The hugs are scarce

Kisses rare

You barely look me in the eye

I won’t redecorate

after you take your half

This will remain a partial dwelling

because there’s no rearranging

what we started

into something whole again

Forward is the only way

even if I can barely hobble

in that direction

My mind yearns to go back

to a place that no longer exists

The place that was full of talk

and your warm embrace

Our time has come…

I thought maybe we were

an exception to the rule

that all things come to an end

But I was wrong

You proved it

Our time has come
Rust
By: Lakshmikanthan Muralikrishnan
Tags: Thoughts, Loss, Rust, Words, Poetry

loss of words!

photo by author <Lakshmi Kanthan Muralikrishnan> — click on the name if you’re interested in more such pictures!

words unsaid —

lumps of raked up thoughts

choked forever

in his numb throat

words

cooked up,

for fine occasions,

or for somber days;

words

never uttered

for want of admiration;

for the fear of admonition;

words

stacked safely

in his head

spilling into his

now quiet larynx;

wanting to get out —

without the Maker’s will!

words,

gathering dust,

cobwebs and husk —

words

laid to rest

to rust

in his bloody throat;

put to waste

to wither

far away beyond

his forgotten existence.
a small piece of our story
By: Lizzie Mobilio
Tags: Love, Broken, Loss, Broken Heart, Heartbreak

i was right, i was so right it’s scary. you’re gone and now who’s gonna save me? when i met you, you were going through a hard time and everyone knew. they all joked and so did you, but you interested me from the beginning. the complex story behind you to uncover, and after uncovering the parts i did i can admire your bravery more than anything. but as we got closer, it seemed you get better as i got worse. you were what pulled me out of that. you showed me that there’s always a bright side. you were my bright side. you were my smile. you were my air on the days i felt like i couldn’t breathe. you were my escape. you were my home. i don’t like being away from home, i never have. maybe it’s because i’m scared of what i’m missing out on or what i could lose. i think here it’s about what i could lose. and i was right. i lost you. you’re gone and so is everything that gave me hope in myself. you truly were the best part of me when i could barely recognize myself. you picked me up and put me back together but i need you a little longer. maybe some closure would’ve been all it took to keep me together. but all i know is that everyday has gotten harder and harder since the last time we talked. i’m homesick. please let me go home.