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.

It's Hard to Say Goodbye
The lightweight aluminum screen door snapped tightly into place, and Gayla waited for her mother to enter before she could follow and close the door to the quiet fifth-wheel trailer. Shirley moved into the kitchen of the large recreational vehicle and Gayla stood just inside the door, unsure about what to do. Shirley at least was shuffling the Visitation book and other papers she’d brought home with her after the memorial service for William, but Gayla didn’t have that to occupy her.
By Lois Brand5 years ago in Families
A Pear Tree For My Grandfather
It was a cold, snowy night when my family got the call. The receptionist from the local nursing home called my mother to say that my grandfather (at the age of 82) had a heart attack and passed away. After my mother hung up the phone, she walked into the living room and sat down quietly. She blankly stared at the wall and didn't say a word for what felt like an eternity. Then, finally, after a long stretch of silence, she spoke.
By Megan 5 years ago in Families
The Pear Tree
The air carried a cool mist as the sun went into hiding. Time slowed as dark grey clouds invaded the sky. A chill washed over me as I stood outside the church doors awaiting an entrance. I braced myself. The man I loved and respected more than anyone in the world was just on the other side of the door. My grandfather was gone.
By Crystal Miller5 years ago in Families
Under the Pear Tree
Under The Pear Tree Written By: Madison Ann Hawkins Where to even start, a humble force of life that filled so many hearts. A foundation to a family, full of sweet kisses that overcame me. I felt so safe under that pear tree, strong and rock-solid, due to the incredible perseverance and strength, and the light in us that tree guarded.
By Madison Ann Hawkins5 years ago in Families
The little man under the pear tree
The little man under the pear tree I can’t tell what life lessons have sunken deeply into my soul. Your gone and no longer exist dad...Yet, those life lessons that you’ve taught me can’t be forgotten. I remember those moments eating pears under this great-big tree near snow lake. You always taught me about love, virtue, and the ideal life that one should pursue passionately. Dad, you are gone, and I will always love you with my whole heart. I cannot express so much of my love in words; however, how can I not do so with words... Since words are all I have left to talk to you. I am hoping that you can hear these words.
By Jose Medina5 years ago in Families
The Coming Cold
The air whispered softly to Charlotte. Morning dew perched boldly on every surface. It seemed the world was still asleep. Charlotte, however, was wide awake. Fear was so thick she nearly choked on it. She looked down at the faces of her two small children, warning them with her eyes, begging them not to make a sound. Her husband’s screams were violent, deep, demanding. He had come barreling out of the house just a few moments ago, belting out her name.
By Jerene Buckles5 years ago in Families
Angels and Irises
A Poet Imprisoned In the 1934, my great-grandmother Colice was placed in a mental hospital in Ogdensburg, New York against her will. She wasn’t mentally ill, only in the way, and today we’d just call her pre-menopausal.
By Nicholas McIntire5 years ago in Families
Lala Bird
I no longer look forward to your calls or text messages and can listen to our old song. I can drive by your mom’s place and our house, and for the first time since I lost you, I was able to go to our spot without breaking down. You were right, the way the old pond looked when it’s frozen over with a cap of snow. It's a perfect winter picture. The sunlight, glistening off the ice onto the flakes of snow, reminds me of the way your blue eyes would glisten when you were happy. Like the day we found out that you were pregnant with our son, your eyes were filled with so much joy, excitement, and terror. Still to this day one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen.
By ElRey Niffen5 years ago in Families
My Brother Visited My Dream
This is a dream that I had roughly 7 years ago about my late brother. About a month before this dream, my brother had committed suicide. It was an extremely traumatic time in my life, and it was one of the hardest things I have ever gone through. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and I couldn’t function normally. Then, I had this dream.
By Emily McDonald5 years ago in Families
Puppy Fuzz
Dear Michael, Today would have been your 33rd birthday. I remember your last birthday, like so many of the birthdays before it, spent down by the pond, jumping off the big rock and splashing with the bullfrogs. If I close my eyes, I can make myself stand right there in the tall grass, watching all of us cousins play, with Dad, and all our aunts and uncles nearby, helping to set up for a casual family party by the water. I can hear the low hum of Grampa's lawnmower in the distance as he makes his way down the path through the woods towards us. No doubt his wagon is loaded with picnic food: watermelon, corn on the cob, coleslaw and potato salad and barbecue chicken. And jello mold, of course. I always love seeing him ride across the field towards us, with his bad leg dangling off the side of the mower, a crooked wise-ass smirk on his face and a corny joke on his lips. You and him were cut from the same cloth, you know. Both too smart for your own good. I remember the day you earned your ironic nickname. Do you remember trampling through Nana's strawberry bushes in hot pursuit of a rabbit? When she caught a glimpse of you, covered in smooshed berries and her garden torn apart, she said to me: "If there were a patron saint of getting up to no good, your brother would be it. Hey that's what we'll call him, Saint Michael the Troublemaker!".
By Sharon Barrett5 years ago in Families
Eulogy for Eden
When he left me, I was still calling his name. Deaf or indifferent, what did it matter to me? My brother was halfway up the hill, no sign of turning back to help. I tried again to free my scarf from the barbed wire fence, but the sharp jacks just tore through my gloves. Between the cool snowflakes sticking to my eyelashes and the hot tears welling up, the world was losing focus. With my face and shoulder strung above the ground and the rest of my five-year old body stretching out toward the icy pond, I could feel the hum of low voltage close to my ear. I stopped trying to push through and sank backwards to my boots. I broke free of the plaid noose stretching taut between the wire and my neck. Jesse would be walking in the front door about now; my parents would be asking him where in the world I was. I stood by the frozen pond, staring at the red threads hanging there between the breeze and the twisted wire.
By J W Knopf5 years ago in Families
How I Survived The Loss of My Father
One of the hardest heartbreaks I've ever had to deal with was the loss of a parent. Ava Sol via Unsplash When my father passed, I had just turned fourteen. Our last conversation between us was a month prier when he called me for my birthday. Sometimes I can't help but wonder how his death would have made me feel if my mom never convinced him to make that call.. even now, almost nine years later.
By 'Lissa Stufflestreet5 years ago in Families