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.
You Never Forget Your First Time
My Grandpa died last month, just like the typical way all grandparents do eventually, taking secrets and stories along with them. It never actually hit me I don’t think. Not the way it did everyone else. Or maybe it did and I just didn’t want to show it whilst everyone else was sobbing. In a way—that I wouldn’t admit to anyone—it was terrifying. I try to act like I’ve seen it all before and that I’m more grown up than I am. I’m totally adamant to other people that I’m okay, I’m fine, it doesn’t bother me. I’m not really sure why but honestly I never saw it as a bad thing anyways. Not until every time I was about to cry I had to force it back down my throat with a reminder that I had to be strong because my family needed me. I started to realise that it didn’t feel okay and it actually hurt to make myself “un-sad.”
By Sophie Young6 years ago in Families
Suicide
Death is painful, period. But suicide, it's different. Suicide leaves individuals with this void, this emptiness. With death, whatever the cause, it hurts; but for many, they have answers, maybe even a little more time with that certain someone. With suicide you literally wake up one day, everything's good, then the next your world was ripped out from under you. You don't know which way is up, down, left, or right. The amount of questions running through your head is enough to make a person snap. Why? How? Was there a note? When? Were they alone? Did they suffer? How is so and so? Could I have done more? Did I do enough? Why didn't they reach out? Did I miss something? A sign? The list is endless. To continue to function, you rely on medications: one, two, maybe even three different kinds including sleeping meds. Months/years later, you'll find yourself still asking questions, some the same some new. Suicide in my personal opinion and personal experience is a very different kind of death. It doesn't take that person's pain away, it's takes that person away and gives their pain to many others. August 25 used to be just another ordinary day, that is until four years ago. Four years ago my life changed. Four years ago my then 17-year-old niece committed suicide. August 25, 2013 is just as vivid in my mind as if it were yesterday. Still to this day I can hear my scream when my sister phoned us with the news. My fiancé grabbed me and my phone before we both hit the floor. You learn to mask the pain, hide it, function because you knew you had to. The anger, that's what had me; still to this day I'm pissed. I was only depressed oddly for a short period; thus I swore was because I was at peace with her passing. I carried no guilt, no regrets. She and I were close. Sisterly close. She confided in me, trusted me as I did her. When she died, I knew she was finally at peace. She wasn't hurt, angry, disappointed, bullied, pressured, hated, mislead, forced, these are a few of her feelings before she died. My anger towards her is still to this day my biggest battle. Because we had such a special bond. Because we told each other everything good or bad. Because we never judged and always loved. Because she knew I would have done any and everything to stop her and that's why she never reached out to me; she didn't want me to stop her. Because facing these harsh realities has nearly killed me. Because I'm pissed she felt taking her life was a better option than asking for help. Because on August 25, 2013 she died. A piece of myself died, as did piece of every single person in our family. Our family is not, nor will ever be, the same. I'm sure they'd all agree. Suicide IS NOT THE ANSWER. This is for anyone who thinks taking their life is the only option. Or taking their life will make everyone "happier." This is the side suicide doesn't see. This is the aftermath of suicide, the effect it has on its victims family and friends. Suicide is 100% preventable. Speak out, ask for help. Educate your minds, know the signs, know what to look for. Speak to your loved ones, ask questions, and never assume; looks are very deceiving. #suicideispreventable
By Sasha Shell6 years ago in Families
Everyone Else Was Grieving
Everyone else was grieving. I wasn’t. Who would have thought that the daughter of the man who died was not grieving? When it came time to say my final goodbyes, I stood by his grave. I stood by my family and friends... and I cried. Months go by, I am okay. I can do it. I can survive. Yet on days like today, I wake up with a hole in my heart and what feels like a bag of bricks sitting on my chest. Many times at night, I stare out the window, perfectly angled to see the moon. I know my father is always looking over me but that is not what bothers me. Is he proud of who I am? Is he mourning with me? I may not know those answers but what I do know is that I am trying my damn hardest just to get up and even take a shower. Even if getting out of bed for fifteen minutes, and I MEAN only fifteen minutes, then I can be proud of myself for taking a step towards a stronger tomorrow.
By Alexa Stephanie6 years ago in Families
Pink Clouds
When I was nearing my tenth birthday, my older sister Ingrid had just turned sixteen. She attended the school across the street from our church, where the teachers allowed you to call them by their first name and art was an integral part of the learning curriculum. I practically begged Ingrid to show me her homework, and after teasing me for being a dork, she would pull pages upon pages of beautiful sketches and colorful paintings out of her book bag. And once my mother had tucked me into sleep at night, I would wait to hear Ingrid give a kiss and hug to my parents before going into the room across from mine for bed. Some nights, it took what seemed like hours for my parent's to go to sleep, but every time they did I would tiptoe over to Ingrid's bedroom and crawl in her bed.
By Megan Leahey6 years ago in Families
Snowflake Memories
Experiencing the death of a loved one is hard, to put it plainly. My first real experience with death was my mom when I was five years old. It is difficult to process feelings of any kind at that age. Let alone something as profound as death. It has taken years to comprehend and accept my feelings and emotions. I am, at long last, finally able to write down those feelings in a way someone looking in from the outside would understand. Perhaps, this will help anyone else dealing with a similar loss; just as writing it has helped me.
By Anna Themas6 years ago in Families
How to Cope with the Death of a Loved One
With April coming up, it has been nine years since my dad passed away from a tragic automobile accident. It's not been an easy nine years. Some days are worse than others, especially around the holidays. That's when it seems to be the hardest.
By Susan Whallon Meeks6 years ago in Families
Death...Why Did You Come?
What should have been a relaxing Sunday afternoon after work became the nightmare I never wished for. From this day forward all our lives would be changed forever. Death is hard and death brings sadness, but unexplained sudden death is different in so many ways.
By Claire Johnston6 years ago in Families
Our Miscarriage
I have always wanted to have a chil, but I never really gave it much thought until 2014-2015. I was working as a cashier at Walmart and this lady came through my line with her newborn baby girl in the car seat, and she was just glowing; she was smiling so big at the baby, singing to her as she patted the baby's feet together, and talking in a baby voice. You could tell that she was enjoying being a mommy. It warmed my heart for a bit, but I went on with my day, but as my shift went along I noticed more and more babies and toddlers coming through my line. Not every parent was full of joy like my first customer, but even the angry parents seemed to enjoy having a "minnie-me." That's not what made me want to have a baby though. This one lady had two cart fulls of groceries and about six kids and a baby with her. "Boy, you have your hands full today," I said to her, thinking that she had other people's kids with her, but she told me those were half of the bunch and that they were her kids. I looked at her with complete shock as she laughed and told me the story of how she has thirteen children, I couldn't believe it and asked her what made her and her husband decide to have so many children? The lady had told me that after having about three, they had decided to keep having more because they brought so much joy to them. I saw the joy and the glow in her face as she just hummed a tune to her baby and held his hand, making the loud, echoing store be still just for a moment in peace. That moment I had a sudden urge of wanting to be a parent. I thought maybe it was just baby fever, but ever since that day I still want to be a parent.
By Kaela Roettger6 years ago in Families
The Day I Lost My Grandma
March 4, 2002, I found out that my grandma had passed away. I thought it was all a dream, until I saw the look on my mom's face. All I could do was lay on the floor and cry all night long. I loved my grandma so much. Every time I would go visit her, she and I would go out to eat and have a very good day together. She spoiled me to death. My grandma taught me how to cook a lot of her best recipes. My grandma was a very short, funny lady. She got along with everybody. All her neighbors loved her. She never had problems with anybody. My mom and I cherish so many memories of her.
By Shante Hernandez6 years ago in Families
