grief
Losing a family member is one of the most traumatic life events; Families must support one another to endure the five stages of grief and get through it together.
Letting Go
How long should it take to pack up a life? Is there a time limit? Can we just keep everything forever? 2021. Spring is in the air. Well, not here--we just had a blizzard. Whee! But I have friends around the country who tell me "Spring is in the air!"
Paula ShabloPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Alchemist's Practice Chapter 4
Edric awoke with a terrible aching head. His previous night's revelling came back to him with a vengeance. His arms and legs ached, though he couldn't think of why that could be, and his stomach churned without his movement.
Jeremy McLeanPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe death of a spouse is different than others
There is something that sets the death of a spouse apart from all others you love who die and that is intimacy. There is a level of connecting that you don’t have with children, siblings, or other relatives. You sleep in the bed with your husband or wife for years or decades and make love with them. Side by side, skin to skin you lay each night. Your significant other knows places on your body that no one else will ever be aware of. You might shower or bathe with your spouse and do other intimate things that are not part of your relationship with other people.
Cheryl E PrestonPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe Eye of the Cardinal
Through the eye, we discover the connection between the physical and spiritual realm. Any new venture or work we take on brings us new experiences, insights, and understanding of ourselves and the world around us. In order to achieve what many think is impossible, we must be willing to step into the unknown and embrace the mystery. By letting go while stepping into the blindness of night, we discover a new light that reveals a power within which guides the self into the magnificent wonders of the universe, mother nature, the divine, and the all seeing eye of God!
Bobby BushnellPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesBuck's Row
Buck’s Row. I hate this street, my mother brings me here often, I’m not sure why, she always says “This is where mummy works, darling.” She never tells me what she does, only that she keeps people happy. She leaves me round the corner, out of sight, there’s a row of arched windows and I sit in the third closest to mummy. “Stay here, Georgiana, don’t move a muscle, mummy will be back by the by.” She says, tucking a blanket tightly around my shoulders. The arches provide a bit of privacy from passers-by while I lie there till morning. Sometimes I come in close neighborhood with frightening drunken men but mummy never leaves me without a whistle to call her with and she always comes to my rescue. “Why can’t I stay with Mr. Thomas, mummy?” I asked, pulling on her bonnet strings. Mummy had just gotten a new bonnet, it was dark colored with velvet round the edges, I thought it was awfully handsome. “Mr. Thomas can’t look after you, when he’s sleeping, now can he?” She kissed my forehead and turned round the corner. Mr. Thomas is mummy’s friend, we live in his flat, his hands are always black from smithing in his shop below and he turns my yellow curls black when he ruffles ‘em, Mummy says I look like a ragamuffin, I take that as a bit of an affront. Mummy says he isn’t my Papa, I don’t remember much of me real Papa, the only memory I have of him is when I was a little one, three years ago, only 5 years. He and Mummy were awfully vexed with each other, Mummy accused him of something terrible and he struck her across the cheek. She woke me that night and told me not to make a sound, she walked a long time with me wrapped around her waist, tucked inside her overcoat, it was nearly morning when we made it to Mr. Thomas’s shop, he had been kind to her and she felt safe with him. We haven’t left since.
Hanna PopePublished 3 years ago in FamiliesCheyne-Stokes Respirations
He fell on July 19th, 2019 while walking the damn dog. After people in the 70’s fall and break a hip, their life expectancy is typically three-to-six months. However, the end did not begin with the fall. His gasping for life began years ago, perhaps even before I was born. Smoking didn’t help but innate self-uncertainty, insecurity, unfulfillment fueled the breaths of discontent.
chris miskec-rhymes-with-whiskeyPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesThe emotions connected to grieving a spouse
As I write this my husband has been dead one week and we had his service yesterday, My emotions are all over the place and I’m going with them. Up down and all around this has been a rollercoaster ride and I want off. At times I’m in shock and want to scream because my life partner of 45 years is gone. I only spent the first 17 years of my life without my late husband and that’s a lot to reflect upon.
Cheryl E PrestonPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesGrief must be dealt with alone
Once you announce a loved one’s passing, the condolences begin. People call, text, visit, inbox and instant message. They give cards, some with money, send flowers and load you up with food. This is commendable and appreciated but it does not go on forever. Once the casket is closed and the deceased laid to rest, however, things begin to change. It’s true counseling is available and that some people may keep up with you for a while. What is also real and factual is that thetr are some things you must do alone.
Cheryl E PrestonPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesI am now a widow
My husband passed away this week and we had been married 40 years and together 45. To say I am devasted is an understatement. This man was in my life every day for 4 decades and now I feel lost without him. I know I will make it but there are so many things that are different now that I am a widow. I feel vulnerable to situations that I did not pay attention to before. I brushed off men who flirted because I had a man, but things have changed. As I was getting into the car today I saw a neighbor with 3 other males sitting on his porch. I wondered if they knew and would they be looking at me differently?
Cheryl E PrestonPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesI love my wife
Romance Sacrifice. Martin Phillips the perfect example of a man’s man, caught up in something he was frightened of. He was only thirty seven, he had so many other plans. He would like to think that people saw him as a loyal honest man, he certainly tried. Oh, sure he did the big tough job as a builder, he spent four nights a week in the gym, and loved his Saturday night pint. But underneath the exterior there was a family man who loved his wife dearly.
Nigel DougillPublished 3 years ago in FamiliesA Christmas Miracle
The snowfalls softly as I walk to my car and start it. The night sky grey, lit up briefly by the few houses on the street that put lights up. Our house is one of them, red and green lights spiral around the four trees on both sides of the yard, Santa in his sleigh on the roof. Every year I like to put up as many decorations as I can, my two kids love the little wonderland it creates. The snow crunches beneath my feet as I get close to my car. I open the door and as soon as I turn it over the sound of the local Christmas station playing “Baby it’s cold outside” for the tenth time today fills the silence. My breath a mist as I sing along and turn the heat up. The song ends and next is, “I want a hippopotamus for Christmas.” That’s my cue to head back inside, I check my watch for the time, I still have plenty of time before I need to get to the station.
The Angel of Florianópolis
His name was Rafael, the same name as my brother. We met occasionally in the middle of the night while I was waiting for the sunrise to take the first bus back to the camp. I was living in a tent in the far South of Florianopolis Island, among nomad-hippies. He was a restaurant worker in Lagoa da Conceicao, an area with bars, night clubs, restaurants and an amazing lagoon next to the sea.