letters-to-my-dad03 - Tumblr blog

[letters-to-my-dad03]

[letters-to-my-dad03]

“Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it.”

—

Joan Didion

[letters-to-my-dad03]

“The thing about losing a loved one that no one tells you. The part movies don’t show and people don’t usually write about. The dirty little secret of death in the modern world is that when someone close to you goes, when they’ve left you, they don’t leave a void, they don’t leave a hole or a gaping open space into which you can pour your grief. They leave paperwork. They leave releases you have to sign, and to-do lists you have to cross off, and hundred different decisions you have to make at the absolute last time anyone should expect you to make a decision about anything. People die and they leave a mess behind. And it’s that mess, that wreckage, that grief comes. You sort through it. You catalog it. You stumble over a joy that had been misplaced. You uncover a hurt that had been left to rot. You go through piles upon piles of meaningless garbage and think it’s all getting better and easier, until suddenly the stack shifts and you cut your heart on the hidden razor blade of some unanticipated memory and you’re bleeding all over again. People die and their stuff stays. And someone has to clean it up.”

— (via just–someone)

[letters-to-my-dad03]

The harsh reality is that tomorrow is going to come, whether you like it or not. It’d going to be the same day, he’s just not going to be there.

[letters-to-my-dad03]

What it’s like to lose a parent

You aren’t prepared. You didn’t get to say everything you wish you could say to them because it’s too late. They were literally half of you, and you are no longer the same person. Actually, you don’t even care about who you are anymore. There’s very little you care about because reality doesn’t feel real. It’s all a blur. Because a world without your parent isn’t a world you have ever known, and now everything is different. People don’t understand your pain. They judge you, try to tell you how long you are allowed to grieve or how sad you are allowed to be or what should make you feel better. Get mad at you for not being okay. Ignore those people, they have no idea. It hurts. It will never not hurt and that’s okay. Grieve as long as you need to. Give yourself space if you need to. Cry when you need to. It’s a rough time right now and you need to take care of yourself and that’s okay. 

[letters-to-my-dad03]

“So, imagine we’re all born with a set of feelings. Some are broader or deeper than others, but for everyone, there’s that ground floor, a bottom crust of the pie. That’s the maximum depth of feeling you’ve ever experienced. And then, the worst thing happens to you. The very worst thing that could have happened. The thing you had nightmares about as a child, and you thought, it’s all right because that thing will happen to me when I’m older and wiser, and I’ll have felt so many feelings by then that this one worst feeling, the worst possible feeling, won’t seem so terrible. But it happens to you when you’re young. It happens when your brain isn’t even fully done cooking—when you’ve barely experienced anything, really. The worst thing is one of the first big things that ever happens to you in your life. It happens to you, and it goes all the way down to the bottom of what you know how to feel, and it rips it open and carves out this chasm down below to make room. And because you were so young, and because it was one of the first big things to happen in your life, you’ll always carry it inside you. Every time something terrible happens to you from then on, it doesn’t just stop at the bottom—it goes all the way down.”

- Bea from Red, White and Royal Blue

[letters-to-my-dad03]

Sometimes I forget that you’re dead and I get the urge to talk to you only to realize you’re not here. Sometimes I hate myself for being so used to life without you. It’s already become a norm and I feel really guilty for that. I just can’t fathom how your just gone and that I’m never going to see you again. I wanted to see you grow old, I wanted you to walk me down the aisle, I wanted you to meet my children. I just wanted you with me always

[letters-to-my-dad03]

I sit with my grief. I mother it. I hold its small, hot hand. I don’t say, shhh. I don’t say, it's okay. I wait until it is done having feelings. Then we stand and we go wash the dishes.

-- Callista Buchen, from Taking Care

[letters-to-my-dad03]

I realize that I was triggered today because as my grandmother sat there and made me feel like shit, I kept waiting for my mom or my brother to say something. I was waiting for them to jump in and defend me but they said nothing. And it made me wish for you because you would always stand up for me, no matter who it was you were always there to fight for me, to stick up for me. And when my mom and brother said nothing I just felt so alone again, and it was a stark reminder of how much I need you. My mother will never choose me over her mom and I never gave a shit before because at least I had my dad on my side. But he’s gone and I don’t fucking have anyone and I’m just so fucking miserable

[letters-to-my-dad03]

Grief

Grief is not your aesthetic. It is not your plotline to use. It is not an interesting piece of your character’s past. It is not a research topic. Grief is not yours to learn about.

Grief is not simple.

Grief is watching everything you knew getting shred right in front of you in one swift moment. Grief is losing the world beneath your feet and the life in your lungs. Grief is more than an emotion. More than a feeling.

Grief is a living hell.

No, it’s far worse than hell.

[letters-to-my-dad03]

I think people don't understand how much grief affects. Before grief, the days are warm and filled with happiness and sunshine, carefree and magical. After, well its a cold dark and empty world. Every emotion is covered by a dark cloud. Happiness is no longer carefree. Sadness is no longer a moment, its eternity.

[letters-to-my-dad03]

[letters-to-my-dad03]

[letters-to-my-dad03]

It's ok to grieve. It's also ok if you're just surviving - just getting by - that's understandable. Do your best to take care of yourself and ask for help when you need it.

[letters-to-my-dad03]

The day you died, a part of me went with you.

People still say to me that it gets easier with time or that everything happens for a reason or your struggles only make you stronger. I don’t want it to get easier. I don’t believe it will make me stronger.

Before you left, I was strong because you taught me to be but losing the bravest part of yourself takes some of that strength away. I’m okay with that.

Losing you has made me vulnerable, more sensitive and, honestly, a little weaker… and I’m proud of that.

I am proud that I was lucky enough to have someone love me so much that when they left, they took part of me with them.

You were my real life superhero. You fought for me, believed in me, and loved me in ways that no one else will ever be able to repeat. There is so much I need you around for.

My life has just begun… but you won’t be there and I have no idea how to accept that.

I find myself repeating things that you used to say just to make sure I can still hear your voice.

I think of all of our memories over and over just to make sure I don’t forget.

I catch myself overthinking and worrying that one day I will wake up and you won’t be on my mind. I think that is the scariest part of losing someone you love; knowing that one day you just might move on enough that you will forget. 

I can’t let that happen.

My heart is beating and breaking all in one. I can hear your laugh echoing through my head and I can see your smile in my every thought.

The memory of you consumes me, exhausts me and wears me thin but yet my biggest fear is that someday it won’t.

- Lauren Horth

[letters-to-my-dad03]

I had loved you far too much that the grief never lessens, no matter how many years have passed

[letters-to-my-dad03]

jamie anderson // rebecca makkai // louise glück // raymond carver // jandy nelson