When gripped by sadness so great that it threatens to devour me, I turn to music. David Gray's White Ladder got me through a very, very tough 2000. Years earlier, Jackson Browne's Late for the Sky was on an endless rotation in late 1983. More recently, Dire Strait's Romeo and Juliet has been a godsend (it remains one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard). I hope as you work through your grief, your own musical touchstones give you solace and hope for the future. You deserve it. Take care, Michele.
Michele, as you share your grief so eloquently in your postings, I can feel your pain. We readers feel your pain. You are able to express what so many of us have been unable to express so clearly in our times of grief. I want you to know that life can and will get better for you. At the appropriate time, make a list of activities that have worked for you in the past, and when ready, get out there and engage. Meanwhile, keep writing. You need to give yourself time to grieve for Ren, who was your last connection to your family of 4.
In my experience, grief like this is like a physical injury. It will heal, but it might always ache when rain is coming. It grows less acute, becomes a familiar part of you that you might not think about every day, but it does not disappear. There are some things thay only the passage of time can help. I am so sorry for your tremendous losses. Hang in there. I'm rooting for you.
When gripped by sadness so great that it threatens to devour me, I turn to music. David Gray's White Ladder got me through a very, very tough 2000. Years earlier, Jackson Browne's Late for the Sky was on an endless rotation in late 1983. More recently, Dire Strait's Romeo and Juliet has been a godsend (it remains one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard). I hope as you work through your grief, your own musical touchstones give you solace and hope for the future. You deserve it. Take care, Michele.
Sending good thoughts sister and no it doesn’t go away but it becomes a livable ache verses an electric shock. Walks in the sunshine, and forest help.
Michele, as you share your grief so eloquently in your postings, I can feel your pain. We readers feel your pain. You are able to express what so many of us have been unable to express so clearly in our times of grief. I want you to know that life can and will get better for you. At the appropriate time, make a list of activities that have worked for you in the past, and when ready, get out there and engage. Meanwhile, keep writing. You need to give yourself time to grieve for Ren, who was your last connection to your family of 4.
In my experience, grief like this is like a physical injury. It will heal, but it might always ache when rain is coming. It grows less acute, becomes a familiar part of you that you might not think about every day, but it does not disappear. There are some things thay only the passage of time can help. I am so sorry for your tremendous losses. Hang in there. I'm rooting for you.
we live with and beside and through it
grateful for you for the minutes of light. and hoping the minutes grow, lengthen. x