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.
The nightmare I had become my reality.
It was around the first of the year Feb or March of 2003, I was only 13. My mother and I lived in town in a mobil trailer. My mothers room was at one end of the trailer and My room was at the other end. She says I scared her, I imagine It would have scared anyone, I woke her up screaming in my sleep. She ran to my room and started shaking me saying "krystal, baby wake up It's just a bad dream". I remeber I was drenched in sweat, crying and shaking. My mother was standing at the side of my bed, trying to get me to come fully awake and realize It was a bad dream, the whole time she was telling me "It was ok I was just having a bad dream." I got awake looked up at her, she said "baby are you ok?" What did you dream?" she said; I just looked at her for a min and then My reply was "I had a dream daddy died momma!" she said; "oh baby Its ok, Its was just a bad dream.
By Krystal Rowden7 years ago in Families
An Unforgotten Man
It was 1984. I asked my girlfriend to the movies, as were the case when people dated (no Instagram, no Facebook, no texts). We sat in the theatre, holding hands, deeply enthralled in the story, waiting for the climax. Does he win the girl? Will she stay with him? The heroine does not but then the song plays at the end. I watch it wanting the song to end because my eyes well up as some unforeseen force hits my chest causing me to rush out with my girlfriend. The words to that song still affect me, but for different reasons. My girlfriend and I grew closer as she thought of me as a more sensitive soul. I felt for the yearning of a movie fairy tale ending. My feelings were not attached to the heroine but to my hero.
By Tomas Alejandro7 years ago in Families
Death
We had just been together last Wednesday, I was thinking of how I wanted to know more about him and his life before he was taken away by death, but I was also looking at him and admiring him as the person I knew him to be. It was not out of sorts for me to look at my family and acknowledge their Divine beauty, but the way I was looking at him, a part of me knew what was going to happen in just a few short days. My last memory with him was perfect.
By Mandy Salcedo7 years ago in Families
The "Lullabye" My Parents & I "Sang" To Each Other. First Place in Behind the Beat Challenge.
I elder-cared my parents for 9 ½ years. Knowing nothing about what this journey would hold, I signed up immediately to be their care-giver when my parents started to show signs of not being able to take care of themselves. It would be my gift back to them for being the amazing, supportive, and loving parents I’d known all my life. They were married for more than 65 years; a testament to how they loved and lived for each other like there was no tomorrow. I wanted to be able to keep them together for their respective last chapters and those tomorrows that were then waning. My task was to courageously, if I could, hold their hands as we three walked this holy path at dusk; Could I calm their disquiet as they lost their footing, couldn’t keep their focus, or scrambled their thoughts while losing their physical abilities as well? To call this journey sacred would be true. And, from my perspective, it would also be like stepping unto a roller coaster I had no idea I would be riding. All my good intentions, with wanting to honor my parents by protecting, assisting, and living with them, certainly did not make up for the lack of sleep, the stress, and frustration I would feel in the process of mainly caring for them all by myself, while working outside the home as well. To watch my parents age and lose their faculties, or for my Dad to go deaf was difficult enough, but when either of them began to question my intentions, my judgement, or my love for them in any given situation – those moments were emotionally heart-wrenching. I still felt emotionally drained even knowing full well that those moments were a bi-product of them losing their ability to think critically. My work was in not taking things personally, and staying open to the present; because that’s when grace would arrive. Sure enough, one of those moments of grace or divine intervention occurred, in the later years of my elder-caring. I had a camera/monitor set up so that I could make sure if my parents got up at night I would be alerted and get up and assist them. One evening, I heard/saw that my Dad was getting up and as I walked from my room to my parent’s bedroom, I saw a beautiful, white, glowing, silhouette of an Angel greeting me at the foot of their bed. I wasn’t afraid or daunted by this heavenly body at all. I did blink, but the beautiful Angel stayed until my attention turned to my parents again. It was a stunning, moving image, one that I didn’t question as being real. Overall, I felt protection and a feeling of affirmation that all was in divine order. “Of course,” my inner voice was saying, there were angels around overseeing this chapter in our lives. My parents, “my angels” were being protected. Along with that protection, I’m convinced that this divine being that entered our space transmitted some energy to me as well, to let me know that I was being watched over too, so I could feel support and continue my care-taking assignment with renewed energy and love. The song that came into play, after that angel sighting occurred, was within a year of my Dad passing. It came on the radio as I was driving to work – it was “Goodnight My Angel,” by Billy Joel. I hadn’t heard that song before then and Billy had debuted this song in 1993, which was 24 years earlier. Obviously, this was my time to hear it, to be soothed and comforted by it.
By Kathleen Thompson7 years ago in Families
Speaking OUT - Part 1. Born in Pain.
Pain. For the longest time I wasn’t sure where it was coming from. I was in pain all the time, even now I’m in pain. I didn’t get by a car or fall off a horse. I didn’t join a wrestling team or play much sports. But still this pain all over, did I sleep walk ?
By She’s just HURT. 7 years ago in Families
Your Little Girl
Daddy, remember all the times I came running to you when I got hurt? I called for you when I needed help getting up. Remember when I would follow you around like a little duckling? I would walk right behind you when you cut the grass. I was always outside with you by your side when you worked on the cars. I was out "helping" you all the time. I wanted to be just like you when I grew up. And I know you said you wanted me to be better than you, but to me you were and still are the best man I have ever met.
By alexandria Urrutia7 years ago in Families
Never Really Goodbye
To be quite frank, time is a bit of a strange concept when it comes to losing a loved one. Especially when they meant the universe to you & to so many others out there in the world. Time becomes irrelevant, days turn into months and so on. What I find most relevant in this circumstance are a few things, gratitude being one of them. Then there is the need to be present in this moment. If there was anything my Mum tried to teach me repeatedly was to be present in this moment, because this moment is all we are ever going to have.
By David Pascoe7 years ago in Families
I Am Penelope
Carrying each strand of thread from one end of the table to the other, I begin warping the loom, wrapping each loop onto the wooden peg. My studio, quiet today, feels less bright somehow—colors of various yarns muted and joyless. Maybe the overcast sky is to blame.
By Emily Wallace 7 years ago in Families
“Mr. Jones & Me”
My name is Adrianna Rose O’Daniel and I am a medium. I was born in 1988 and have felt energies around me all my life. It was not until my younger brother Nick’s suicide in 2014, that I realized what I was experiencing, and ALSO confirmed I was not secretly insane. Nick was 24 when he shot himself, at an age I believe one can feel the most pressure as well as lost. Looking back 6 years ago, I was definitely lost, and way too busy managing a restaurant. Because of Nick’s suicide, I could finally make sense of my synchronicities, my gifts and then learn how to use them to help myself and others. Fortunately my brother loved music and festivals, so a lot of my brother’s messages come from songs, and one song in particular reminds me he is always energetically supporting me. That song is called “Mr. Jones”, by the Counting Crows.
By earth angel rose tarot 11117 years ago in Families
