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Recommended: Theories of grief
The first time I ever heard of someone close to me was passing away, I was six. I was hanging out with my older sister and her friend at the time. My parents had dropped us off at my sister's friend’s house because they had to go somewhere but didn't tell me. As the time passed, I was curious about where my parents had gone, so I asked my sister. Before I could even finish she had said the word “ Funeral”. She stopped herself and realized what she just said.
“Funeral?” My 6 six year old mind couldn't comprehend the word, so I repeated it a few times to my sister, saying it like it was a question. My sister and her friend stood there silently as I stood there confused.
“ Who died?” I had got the words to come out, I had finally understood the
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I was very confused and hurt at the same time. I felt so helpless at the time, but yet I didn't cry that moment. Why wasn't I crying, I had thought, she was my best friend. She was my babysitter’s daughter. I was hurt and upset and no one was there for me. My sister and her friend didn't pay attention, didn't comfort me, I was alone. I just wished Kristina was there with me, but I knew she couldn't be here.
When my parents came to pick up my sister and I, I ran to my mother's arms and my eyes started to water. She had just assumed my sister had told where they were, but she wasn't mad, she knew that she should have told me instead of wasting time not telling me. But now I see why she didn't tell me at the time, she just didn't want to hurt me. I was also so young at the time.
Over the course of a few months passing, and every time I went to my babysitter’s house, I expected her to come rushing over to me and hug me, and to hang out with me but she wasn't. It's like she was here one day then gone the next in the blink of an eye. My mind couldn't adjust to not seeing her when I went over. I became even more upset from when I was first told. As for my babysitter she would put on a smile for me, but I knew that deep down she wasn't doing well. I was happy to be spending time there at the house, yet it was upsetting to be there at the same
When I was twelve years old, a close friend of mine passed away. At first, I didn’t know how to process what was happening. How can someone I’ve known for the majority of my life be gone? But then it finally hit me. My friend was really gone. There would be no more days challenging
Death’s whisper traveled in my ear, wrapping around my mind, “I can take you away from this madness. Beyond this hell, that is life.” “Will it be more peaceful there?” I asked. “As serene as heaven above.” Possessive Depression responded. My heavy heart fluttered at the thought of serenity. No more painful days, or lonely, restless nights. No more of this living death. Anxiety murmured all my insecurities tempting me to make the decision, as every tick-tock from the clock he held, echoed in my brain, putting fear in me of things that will never happen. I thought about the invitation to eternal sleep, “I would finally be able to extract this smiling mask…” Thus, I decided to join the dance of death, done dealing with my dilemmas.
I figured someone had passed away, but I didn't think much of it. My father spoke to me in a very calm and soft voice with tears in his eyes. In between his words you could hear the hurt. He told me that my godmother had passed away. I sat there not knowing what to say, but could feel the hurt overwhelm me.
As we pulled into the parking lot of the funeral home, I felt the knot in my stomach tighten. Just a week ago, my ex-husband Rick, had brought our children back from a fun-filled vacation. They had spent two weeks exploring Tennessee, visiting amusement parks, and flying over the Smokey Mountains. He had brought them back to Ohio, dropped them off at my new house, and had asked to see the dog that my daughter adopted at the humane society. I had taken him to see the dog, she seemed uncomfortable with his presence and growled. Still he had lingered, talking about their trip and his plans for the next time he saw them. The conversation and pleasantries were hard for me to force. Years of living with someone who was manipulative and had abused
The ride home had been the most excruciating car ride of my life. Grasping this all new information, coping with grief and guilt had been extremely grueling. As my stepfather brought my sister and I home, nothing was to be said, no words were leaving my mouth.Our different home, we all limped our ways to our beds, and cried ourselves to sleep with nothing but silence remaining. Death had surprised me once
At that time, I had never experienced the death of someone I knew. It seemed like something that happened to other people, not me, but it happened. He was one of my dad’s best friends and my dad was devastated. I didn’t hang out with Eric a whole lot, I mainly babysat his kids, but when I did, it was a great time. I didn’t really grieve when he died. I was sad that he died, but I was more sad for his wife and kids. I visited them a few times after it happened, and it was heartbreaking. His oldest child, Lily, had horrible nightmares and she was sleep deprived because of it. She was barely functioning. She was nine. When I was nine, the worst thing I thought could happen to me was having to go to school everyday to see this girl who always picked on me. I think that has to be a child’s worst nightmare, to lose a parent. Eric’s second oldest child, Dalton, stopped talking for weeks and he wouldn't eat. And Laythan, his youngest, was confused about the whole situation, but he was so young that he won’t really remember his dad. And his wife, she hasn’t been the same since. For a long time after he died, she would cry whenever she saw my dad because Eric loved him like a brother. It made me sick to see how much pain came from this, and if I could go back, I would make sure this never happened. There were many ways we tried to help them while they were grieving, but we couldn’t help them in the way they wanted to be helped; We couldn’t
This is crazy. Why am I afraid? I’m acting as if this is my first funeral. Funerals have become a given, especially with a life like mine, the deaths of my father, my uncle and not my biological mother, you would think I could be somewhat used to them by now. Now I know what you’re thinking, death is all a part of life. But the amount of death that I’ve experienced in my life would make anyone cower away from the thought. This funeral is nothing compared to those unhappy events.
In the process of reading chapter two, I immediately thought back two years ago. I had the worst Stressor. I've had in my only 16 years of living. My great grandmother, who I lived with along with my mother, my whole life. She passed from stomach cancer. September 14 2013, I remember getting out of the shower with a smile on my face, and my grandmother casually walking in and said "Granny died at 2:34 this morning. I'm going to Chicago and I'll come back the day before the funeral. " My family works in the funeral industry but we do not own a funeral home and we have never buried such a close family member of ours. With my Step father and my mother losing their minds, and my little sister not knowing how to process this and my aunt just down right disappearing, I had to handle this. I was 14 at the time and I was calling on older friends to take me to the bank, finishing arrangements, picking clothes, doing the memorial video and the catering because none of my family offered to cook. I was panicking and literally running from place to place because I was trying to get things done. I was eating more and sleeping less, and from
As you were not able to live with grief and did not have the childhood of your dream, you will offer this opportunity to your children. You will hope that your children admire you and think that they have the most beautiful, kind and caring mother.
I just sat and did not dare move, like a deer in headlights and tears rolling down my face to my chin and dripping into my hands one by one. My mom asked me if I was okay and I just asked, “Can I go to Kayza’s?” Kayza was the only person I wanted to be with, and she would know what to say and how to comfort me. She said no, so I went and sat with my mom, hugged her and began to sob.
I still don't know why it had to happen to me. I always kept what she did to me a secret until i couldn't keep it secret any longer. When i was younger my parents got a divorce. Not to long after the divorce he got with a women named Sam. Everything was going really good
I asked my friend if I could come over to his house and hang out. Shortly after I arrived there my sister called me and she started to talk about Roxie, I yelled at her telling her that she was going to make my cry again. She agreed, I could hear her crying on the other end of the line. Guilt, the thing that made me cry. I hated keeping up with Roxie and taking care of her so she could have a happy life.
My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.
She told me that mom needed to tell me something. She proceeded to tell me that my father had had a heart attack and that I had a choice to come down to the hospital or not to come. She told me it was a scary sight, and if I didn?t think I could handle it that I should stay home. I was overwhelmed with fear and grief at that moment that my mind just stopped working. I remember thinking all I wanted was to be with my mom and my dad.
Even though I clearly remember all the sanity me and my little family went through. I never wanted them to know their mother just up and disappear on them. I took a deep breath and was about ready to tell them the whole truth. They already knew too much. But right before I could speak, I became suddenly unspoken-less. They gave me this look, not a look of sadness, more like a look of pride and honor. They both huddle close to me and gave me a hug. The words that came from their mouths next. I 'll never forget