I sifted through photos of days gone by.
Each brought with it a memory.
Life was sweet, carefree, happy.
I was young- we all were.
Back then, I took for granted you'd always be here.
It didn't occur to me you'd be gone someday.
Through innocent eyes I viewed the world.
Dear Sibling, there is so much you need to know. In our deepest sorrow, we don't realize that you cannot read our minds, you cannot know our pain. We know you feel lost, alone and abandoned. You saw us change instantly at the loss of one of you and you waited for the 'us' you knew so well to return. We didn't. You needed us, but for once in your life, we were not there for you.
I am having de ja vue. The bench I am sitting on is hard. The air is cold. My younger brother is sitting beside me. My stomach is in my throat. The lights are bright and then I see him.
He is 56 and frail. His hair thinning and he grows it long, combs it back just like my father did. His glasses are the same as the last time I saw him. I was 16 then and 33 now.
I refuse to say goodbye.
I can't. I won't.
I'm afraid of the finality of that word.
I'd rather hold on to the thought
that I'd see you again.
It might not be today,
Grief is a Wicked Monster.
I miss your laugh, and I miss your smile
Someone to talk with for a while.
Because of the lack of empirical articles in the psychological literature, I decided to look into psychological reactions to grief and bereavement for my dissertation. I’m hoping to gather participants from a wide range of backgrounds and experiences. What follows is an IRB-approved welcome message and link to the survey. Thank you!
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Hello,
