Chai

Dear Suzanne, I have had a tough time with this question as well. I prayed very hard for my father to be healed, and he was not. In turn I have had my grandmother pass away from illness, and also my stepfather's sister has cancer, and so many others. But back to your question - should we pray to God, or just "leave it up to God" and not pray, since it is all in His hands anyway? I guess it really comes down to, why do we pray. Do we pray because we want control - something that, I think, is always really in God's hands - or do we pray out of love for God and trying to realize that, at this point, only He and His power can help us? I really think it comes down to that question, of why we pray, and that praying with the right frame of mind is to pray because we know that in this dire situation, only God can help us; not, instead, that God is like our dog and we drag him on a leash when we want him to go here or there, do this or that. At the same time though, I think, whether we pray to God with that mood or not, whatever is meant to be, will be. But praying, I believe, gives us more of a chance that God will fulfill our prayers and that we are praying for, will happen. So I'd say go for it. Can't do any harm praying, right? This is simply my take on it, my philosophy. No one is required to agree, and I'm not sure I even made a lot of sense... take care, Chai

Dear sheiss, dear, dear one, please accept a giant hug and kiss and light surrounding you from me. I feel for you. Your post has entered my heart and pressed on it very hard. I remember when my father had cancer, and during that time I was very, very scared and my father and I both wanted everything to be normal. "Normal" for us consisted of me as his visitor, and not being there all the time. It is unfortunate that we continued this habit even during his illness. In retrospect, what I wish is that I had been able to be more like you, and been there for him regardless of usual circumstances of being apart. I am telling you my story, not to sound heavy here, but I am telling you to please, please stay by your father's side. Do not leave him. He is the most important right now, and your heart knows that. Please listen to your heart. I did not listen to my heart when my father was sick, and now that he is gone, I wish so much that I had. Your heart is full of love for him, and it will give you strength. Be pulled along by that love. The friends, externalities, they don't matter. Live in these moments with your father, and cherish them. I think that love is what will and can buoy you and your father up, even amidst the fear. The time you are spending with him right now is absolutely wonderful. I am sure that he is ever so grateful for you to that, more than he can say in words, deep in his heart and in his soul. wishing you the best, ((((HUGS)))), Chai

I think you hit it on the head. It is so hard, and I feel so much what everyone here is saying. The guilt of, why didn't I do more? Why didn't I stay longer? Visit more? Say that one thing, or give that one last hug? My father passed away from cancer in November 2008. I only saw him once before he passed away. I had all these reasons, like schoolwork, which he wanted me to keep on at, and waiting till he was at home with hospice instead of rushing down to the hospital, because of thinking, he wouldn't want me to see him like that. But now I wish I'd rushed down there, taken time off of school, and spent every day at his bedside. I know that there are stages of grief, but I also think it works differently for everyone. I mean, I don't think you can put the guilt into one box of "here it is." It comes and goes. I'm at 15 months now, and I still feel the guilt come over me. All those shoulda woulda couldas. Sometimes I feel like the harder memories come to mind easier. It hurts, but there they are, those sad images and wishes. But then a happy memory will pop up, and make me smile. Some of the hardest moments, for me, are missing the little things, like going grocery shopping at R+N with my father, or the moments when I see a beautiful sunset that I would love to tell him about, and he isn't there to enjoy it with me. No one else has that same love of nature that he did, and I have my moments of enjoying it myself, but it's not the same without him. We can still talk to them, and I think writing letters really makes a difference. I've done it, and found it helps me. Oh and back to what bflyrn said - however hard it is to see people with their dads, just think, those relationships, those fathers, might not be as good as ours were. We are so fortunate to have shared so much love with our dads. I know I haven't really added anything new to this conversation...but I just wanted to say, my heart sings to the same tune as your hearts, and I hope that our hearts switch to a happy tune sometimes, so they don't hurt as much. take care, Chai

Dear Niamh, Thank you so much for sharing. The lyrics made me think, and hearing the song itself...oh, I was crying my eyes out! My tears definitely belong to my dear dad. At the same time, what a sweet song, I really appreciate hearing it. I really think that the sentiments expressed in that song fit my dad to a tee. I shall try to take this song to heart and feel his presence and love still with me... take care, Chai

Dear friends, I just read a wonderful article called Healing in Community. It appeared in the March/April 2010 issue of a spiritual magazine called "Tikkun." I would recommend you read it. It's about how grieving mothers who lost their children to murder, and grieving students, were brought together to create a playground in memory of one of the many children that had recently been killed in the New Mexico town of Espanola. I found the article very moving, and healing, because it propagates the idea that, together, we can do something to soothe our hurting hearts, or at least we can be sorrowful together, instead of alone. I picked up the magazine at my local library. I promise it's worth a read, check it out! take care, Chai

L, All I can say is, I can relate. I can totally relate to what you are saying. I don't know how old you are, but I'm nearly 22 and about to finish college, and it is so hard to find a friend to talk to in grief. Our peers just don't understand what it is like to lose a parent (if anyone at all). Everything you have voiced, I totally have felt and am still feeling those things - the dismissal of trivial things, the search for the meaningful. I've been going on autopilot lately and ignoring my grief, but in the back of my head there is that yearning for the meaningful. Also, I feel like grief has given us the ability to see a BIG PICTURE. Previously the world was all about us and the little things. Having someone close to us pass on, makes us realize, there are so much bigger things. There are bigger things in the world, and then there are bigger things that can live in our minds and hearts. One of those big things you and me and the people on this site wrestle with is grief. The friends of ours who expect us to be the same - I think they're just scared. They want everything to be normal again. But you and me know that things won't be "normal" again. They've changed forever. Our losses have changed us and will shape who we become, whether for better or for worse. We are different people now than we would have been had we not lost loved ones. That's just a hard fact. I think the tough thing to do is acknowledge that, and then look into finding meaning. I think, you should not feel bad for finding some of the things your friends' minds are occupied with, trivial. You just can't help it. No use forcing yourself to fake it. And if they say something, well....it would be hypocritical of me to tell you, to share outright with them, how you see the world differently. I haven't shared it with my friends much. In fact, I've done bad job at sharing in general, except for journaling and on this site. I don't even share enough with MYSELF! I, too, wonder how I am able to function sometimes. I'm at 15 months, and I'm functioning, but deep down I wish I weren't. I feel guilty for functioning properly. I don't know if I'm doing better, or if I'm only functioning because I haven't been letting myself think of grief lately. If I'm "feeling better," than I'm mad at myself, and if I'm ignoring my grief, than I'm still mad at myself. Either way I guess I'm just mad at myself. But I can totally relate to what you're saying about the friends. I was so angry with them, at first. Now I just wish I'd opened up more to the few available listening ears, because in the real world outside of this site, I clam up about my grief and am lonely, lonely, lonely. (Or I have made myself such, by not sharing enough). I know that I'm really not lonely, 'cause I have everyone here, but...it's so hard for me to say anything in-person, with my physical mouth. Stupid mouth. Well, wish I could end this on a happier note, but I've got to go to my job. I hope that my sharing might have helped in some way, at least in knowing, that you're right and you're not alone. take care, Chai

JustMe, You are not alone. I, too, have my father's cell phone number in my phone still, and although it still sortof causes me pain to see it even ever 15 months...I can't bear to delete it. That number is a piece of memory, a piece of my dad, and even though it just an amalgamation of numbers now and not his voice on the other side of the phone, it is still him, and all the phone calls we had, in my mind. It ISN'T just a phone number, to us, and that's why we keep it. Therefore we aren't crazy. To others we may seem so, but they don't have that same thinking about that amalgamation of numbers that we do. I also have his voicemail answering machine message saved on a recording device, and I don't think I'm ever going to delete that! I've even not been using the recording device to record college class lectures, because I'm afraid I might accidentally delete the recording of my dad's voice. I am sorry for the loss of your father. We are all here for you. Keep that phone number in, if it helps, or even if it doesn't. take care, Chai

Hi hikedenali, I am so sorry to hear of the recent loss of your mother. At this point in your journey, I think that it is absolutely fine to put, like Susie said, "having the support of my extended family at Christmas after my mother's recent passing," or even, if you don't want to "get into it," "having a good Christmas holiday." I am sure your coworkers will understand, and hopefully will not put you on the spot or require extra information. Talking about it does help, though. That is why this website is here! =D We are here, and also of course, anyone whom you feel comfortable talking with. It is all about YOUR comfort level, not what other people think of your grief. At this difficult time, it is hard, but important to remember - accomodate YOURSELF. It is NOT selfish to do so. take care, Chai

Dear Sharon, that is a beautiful quote you have given us. Thank you very much. I have dread New Year's ever since my dad passed away; this will be my second. I'm not quite sure why I dread New Year's; perhaps because it takes me further away from the happy times I had with my father. I need to do more to keep him alive so that time giong by doesn't seem so frightening... I need strength. Your quote about strength is strenthening. Thank you for sharing it. take care, Chai

Dear Em, I am so sorry to hear that these insensitive people are giving you such grief. Like Boo said, it is them, and not you. The best thing that I can think of to do is to try and avoid those insensitive people as much as possible, and be around those who understand. Of course, sometimes it is hard to know who are the right people. I myself have thought particular people were going to be good, sensitive listeners, but instead they surprised me with their quick getaways or empty advice, or "move on" sorts of comments. When you do encounter this insensitivity, I think it is important to tell them how their comment made you feel. Not because you want to make them feel bad, but because you want them to try and understand you. If you let those comments slide with silence, then it makes you feel worser and weaker. At least, that has been my experience. So even though it is awfully hard, my advice is to say, "Thank you for your comment, but I am feeling like I need some extra support right now, especially during the holidays. I would love to have some company during this difficult time. The next time you have one of those fun events, can I come?" Or maybe just a, "Thank you, but I'm actually feeling it will take me some time until I can get to that point. But I appreciate the good intentions behind your words." As for when you do find sensitive people - grab them! Grab them and don't let go! Make sure they know that you need their help, and that you might need their listening ears and kind words again in the future. I have had a couple good instances where I was having a rough day and people were there, but I made the mistake of not letting them know that, I might need them again. Or I was just too shy to approach them again. So I got a couple good one-shots. But you want more than one-shots. You want people who you can turn to at seemingly random moments and say, "Can I talk to you? Can I sit with you?" and they will be there for you. Fortunately, we also have this wonderful website to share. I am sorry that you are experiencing such an insensitive crowd, Em. It hurts even more when they are like that. They just don't understand! It makes one angry and sad all at once. I wish you the best in your seeking better listeners and sensitives. Sorry I couldn't give more advice on how to find "the ones that fit." I've been hit-and-miss, myself. take care, Chai

Dear Marty, Thank you for being so understanding. I like your suggestion. I sent my uncle an email a while back, saying sortof what I felt, but I didn't get a reply back from him, so I'm not sure how he feels about it. You have definitely given me some things to think on, though. Writing seems to work better for me in some cases, when phone is just so hard. I did call my uncle on Thanksgiving. We talked about our dinners, and he talked about how he and his wife were house-and-dog-sitting for relatives, because they didn't want to be at home. In September, 2 months before my dad passed away, my uncle wife lost her brother and dad in a car accident. Usually those two visit my uncle and his wife for Thanksgiving, so this year, they were happy to house-and-dog-sit. I felt like his talking about that, acknowledging the grief in our conversation, was a good step forward (and I'm guessing he read my email). So, I have hopes for future phone conversations...and I have made a point to write him more emails, so he knows that I work better with that. Also, I plan to send him a postcard as a sortof thank you/belated birthday note. So...slowly I am progressing in this arena. And you have given me more to think on, thank you. =) I think the real point in all of this is honesty. Instead of holding it back, we should speak to our family members - whether it is from the angle of, "I want more from you," or from my angle, where I am the want who is doing a bad job of keeping in contact. take care, Chai

Dear Marsha, Happy Cranksgiving (=D good one!) to you, too. I am happy to be here for you and listen to what you are saying. It is definitely hard to think of those little things, because they seemed so little when our loved ones were here, but the idea that even those little things aren't with us anymore, is very big and hard to handle. I even just miss the sound of my dad's flip flops at 3 am, or the way he would lecture me on tongue-scraping after I brushed my teeth and I'd say "ew." I think it is very good that you are treating yourself to what you need to do, instead of letting others' holiday spirit invade. Good for you for putting your foot down and doing things your way! I hope that you are having a good weekend. A good cry with people who understand is so special. I am glad those people could be there for you, and that you all shared like that. Try that loud music/screaming therapy! It really works. take care, Chai

Em, "seems like 20 years and one week simultaneously," I know what you mean! I feel like that, too. I think back to last year and it seems just like yesterday...all that fear and bewilderment...and yet it also feels like so long ago, and I hate that. I need to talk about my dad more, join some grief groups back in my local town, because then my dad will feel closer, and I hate that it feels like a million years since we did all the things we did, sometimes. kath, you are so right about it wasn't an accident that my friend came by. I like what you said about her being "eyes and ears" for our community here! Thank you for all the love. Korina, I'm happy to hear you had a peaceful day. I am doing the up and down rollercoaster...today was good. I went to a museum, it was distracting from the troubles of the week, and I sat in nature for a few moments...that does make me miss him, sometimes. Because only he could appreciate it the same way. But at the moment I was lying under that tree in a park today, I felt peaceful and just glad to be there, in the sun, with this beautiful oak above me. I hope I can feel more moments like that in nature, of simply peace, instead of sadness and feeling that empty spot where he should be next to me.

Hi all, My brain has been on grief overload since my one-year mark went by on Tuesday, November 17th. I grew up living with with my mother. My father was "the other parent," not that I thought of him like that in my mind, but since I didn't live with him, it was different. I think if I had lived with him, our relationship would have been different. Closer, perhaps. Or less close. I'm having issues of guilt and regret right now, because of not having spent more time with him. I feel like I had a choice. There were times I could have gone on a hike with him, or visited him, but instead I was busy with schoolwork, or I was doing something with friends. But my father didn't get to see me as much as my mom did. My mom got to see me every day. I feel like I could have helped my father be less lonely (he lived all alone until 7 years ago when my grandmother moved to live with him). Instead of thinking of my dad, I thought of mself. I put myself as my priority. I let my mother control my life a lot, even now. I could have asserted myself more and been more independent earlier in my life, but I chose not to. When I turned 18, I could have gone to live with my father for a while, but instead I went to college. As for school, the only reason I got into school was because when I moved at age 12, I became an Honor student. Before that, I didn't much care about school. Once I was an Honor student, it seems my life became school. I spent hours on homework. I got As a lot in highschool. My mother encouraged me a lot and seemed extra proud of me in regards to things I did in school. I kept doing good at sschool to make her happy. My father was more proud of me, I feel, for certain personal qualities such as kindness, openess, creativity. He encouraged me at school too, but not as much as my mother. He knew it wasn't as important, and I...I just kept doing what pleased my mother. I feel like I paid more attention, for the entire 20 years I knew my father, to my mother (and not just because I lived with her). Recently I recovered from his old email inbox, old emails and pictures. Most I am so happy to have, but some remind of the arguments my mother and father had. He would return with me from a trip late at night, and she would be furious and ban him from seeing me for a month. He and I would email each other about how angry we were about it. In one email, he asked me to take some time to call him, and I was so busy with school and he sounded so desperate! It breaks my heart to remember/think of all the opportunities to spend with him that I threw away for school - for pleasing my mother. My schooling is almost over now, and I feel like - what did all this obsession over grades get me? It prepared me somewhat for an already difficult, salary-low career - admittedly my passion, writing. It made my mother proud, but it also made me focus on something is ultimately not extremely important. My father was more important, and I was so selfish and small-minded that I didn't realized the bigger picture until I got older. I realize it especially now. Now my father is gone. I miss him so much, and it makes me so angry and sad with my past self, with how I've USED my TIME in life, that I didn't CHOOSE to spend more time with my dear father. It makes me feel this self-loathing and despair, that I could have done more and made him happier and myself happier. Instead, I chose the shallow, easy route, complying with rules, routine, and my mother. I feel that this same complying with my mother's wishes/suggestions on-automatic is what made me visit my father less when he was ill. By then,years of "I can't leave school I have to do good in school" had already been ingrained in my head. So I kept doing school and only visited him once. Now I wish I could go back in time and say "SCREW THIS MIDTERM MY DAD HAS CANCER" and go visit him and spend weeks and weeks at his bedside. But now it's too late. I couldn't get my priorities straight and see the BIG PICTURE, that my father was dying and needed me, the person he loved most in the world...I knew all this subconsciously in my heart, but I ignored it for the easy way out and denial. And now I'm all alone and miserable, and I just don't know what to do or think. Has anyone else had issues with grieving and having had divorced/separated parents, or grieving a loved one who was estranged from the rest of the family? I would like to hear people's stories and how they have dealt with this kind of issue (and possibly guilt over it) in grief.

Dear Korina, I hope that your 5 month anniversary went alright for you today, that you got time with your grief and had a moment to feel the strength of the angels watching over us all to radiate into you. It is amazing that times goes by when we are grieving, because there is a sense that time should not go by at all without our loved ones. I think you should feel proud of yourself for being at the 5 month mark today, and Scott would be proud of you. I have been thinking of my dad a lot this week, and I hope I get to do something special this weekend; maybe put a vase of flowers by his picture or something. I want to keep giving him things, because he gave me so much. take care, Chai

Can I post something sortof from the other side of things? I am a family member...and my dear uncle lives across the country. I don't call him half as much as I should, and on the one hand I feel awful about this. He probably wonders, or maybe he is on your all's side of this issue and is feeling confused, or angry, or sad with me. But it's just so hard. I barely know my uncle, and now, he is trying to get to know me after the loss of his brother, my father. He calls me up, and talks to me about all sorts of things...but what I wish we would talk about is the real reason that we are calling each other at all: my dad, losing my dad. I want to talk about him with my uncle. I want to remember. I want to talk about feelings, about deep important things, not the daily grind and politics and stuff. Plus, I am still going through the process of grief. I don't know who I am, and here my uncle is so nicely trying to get to know me, but...I just don't know how to be, when on the phone with him. Behind every conversation is that grief, lurking. I don't want it to lurk. I want to pull it out from behind the curtain and say, "hey! Stop the smalltalk! Let's talk about this!" My uncle is a huge optimist. He can go on and on happily about many things. I just don't feel like spending an hour on the phone talking blah with him. It's hard enough doing daily grind stuff, talking mundane who-cares crap, with people at school. Inviting more of it upon myself...I just don't want to. It feels like an ordeal. Sometimes it doesn't, but since there is that awkwardness that I feel (which, really I know I myself have created), I tend to not call as much. I know it is selfish of me. I don't want to hurt my uncle...but I just feel lost. It's another thing to think about, that is potentially a big thing, but also potentially more smalltalk...I have made a stressful thing in my mind. I don't know how to change it. If I wanted to make time, I know I would, and I would call. But instead I just feel weird. This is the other side of the spectrum - being a family member that never calls. My uncle and I were at the memorial for my dad, and we visited my grandmother before she passed on. Now he's across the country, and...here I am. Supposed to be calling, but not. I tried to say I'd call once a week, but I couldn't stick to it. I want to, but it's hard.

Dear Linda, I would like to say something here as a student (I feel like I'm at work - I live on-campus, and I seem to be constantly doing homework). It is a question of, what works for you as an individual. As we have already seen that some people, like kath, do better with some time away from work so we can be at home and have time for our grief. Other people, like LindaKoz, do better with some work to do, and manage to give time to our grief also. Me personally, I wish I had more time to grieve and that I was at home, because working at school, I feel I don't get to give my grief enough time. At the same time though, being at home, especially alone, can be overwhelming in its own way. When we are alone, I think, we are especially vulnerable to the feelings of grief. I think it is tough to have a balance of, having time to grieve, and doing the things that need to be done, like work/school. If you do decide to go back to corporate work, you must decide that, no matter what, you will give yourself time during your day, week, whatever, to grieve. I myself am feeling how good it is to GIVE it time, because I recently opened up to a friend. After so long being enwrapped in work, it felt so good to acknowledge my grief. Don't be like me and get stuck working and wish you had time for yourself. If you go back to work, I hope that it is with Linda's energy, where she is able to balance her grief and her work. Sorry if I made this sound like a lecture. I just have been feeling intensely about this within myself lately, and I guess it just came out...sortof a self-anger at myself for not giving my own grief enough time... I wish you the best in whichever path you decide to take. take care, Chai

People really do ask the worst questions at the worst times, Lucia. I also had people ask me questions a few months after my father passed away; one of his friends asked me if I knew how my dad got ill, etc. etc., and it made me uncomfortable and sad. I didn't think of what kayc has just said, just saying, "Please can we talk about something else," which is a good suggestion. Basically though, I told the man "I don't know" and said some of the things I tried to think about, the good things, and I think he got the point that I didn't want to talk about the other thing. All we can do is take a deep breath, and like kayc said, if it really, really bothers us, say something. The person intended well, but put you in a very sad spot by saying what she said. I think that you can feel free to say, please let's not talk about that, and then she will have some food for thought as far as what she said, and hopefully she will understand a little better, how hard it is to talk about it. I guess for the future, if someone says something similar to what this woman said. People just don't understand. I think it is healthier for us to just, let it go and get out of there while we can, or openly admit our discomfort, or heck! Cry in front of them! Then maybe they'll get that this is REALLY painful. I am sure she had good intentions though (although some people are just curious! They don't understand the pain we get in talking about these things). I think your resolve to choose to remember the good things, is an excellent and healthy, self-caring thing to do. Go you! take care, Chai

Thank you so much for your kindness and support. I am doing O.K. today so far. I went to classes and such, but after, I went back to my room and decided, I'm going to give my grief time. I sat down with my photo album and was looking at pictures of my dad...missing him. A friend knocked on my door, caught me right in the middle of crying. She sat down and listened, for maybe an hour or half an hour, and I just talked about my dad, the sad stuff, the good stuff... It felt so great to talk about it, let me tell you. So good. I think I just have to sit down with people at good times where they can listen, and just...talk about my dad. Not that I can schedule a talk, necessarily, but just, there are times I can bring it up that aren't awkward, whereas lunch and dinner in the cafeteria aren't really the place. People are too absorbed in eating and mundane smalltalk then. But here my friend sat with me, and I talked to her. It wasn't as hard as I thought, and it felt really good to get stuff out of my head and out into words. I hope that I can talk to people openly more. Also, today I got the password to my dad's old email address...he used to print out emails and keep them, so I thought that maybe there'd be some old emails between he and I that he might have kept in his inbox. Maybe not, but we'll see. take care, Chai

Thank you so much for making a thread for me! That is so sweet. Thank you all for the strength and kindness that you have given me through this website.

As of tomorrow, I will have been in my grief journey for one year. My dad passed away on November 17th, 2008. I can't believe it has been one year without him. On the one hand it has felt like a very long year...and at the same time, short. I wish that I could give time tomorrow to my grief...that I could just sit, and feel it, feel the sadness, go over realizations, light a candle, something. But tomorrow is Tuesday. A busy day in my week, classes and work from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. Honestly, I wish that I would get sick or something so that I could stay in bed, in my room, and just...think. And talk to people about him. Also, I remember getting sick after he passed away, before the memorial...and again on Father's day...so a strange part of me expects, even wants, myself to get sick tomorrow. Like if I don't get sick then, something's wrong with me, because my grief isn't manifesting physically as it did for other tough days...I know, it makes no sense; I shouldn't want to get sick, but I kindof do. That way, if I feel sad and like an invalid tomorrow, at least people would treat me properly, with sympathy and hugs and love. You see, otherwise, tomorrow will go like normal. It's a normal day for everyone else. I hate that I have to do my routine tomorrow, and can't just...blow the schedule and let tomorrow OPENLY be different. Maybe that's what it is. I hate faking that it's normal, ESPECIALLY tomorrow, the one-year anniversary. I want to just let the world know that tomorrow, and today, and this past weekend, I am sad, and I wish SOMEONE would give me a damn hug or something! So what if it's been a "whole year"! And I keep putting it back on myself, like "Oh it's my fault for not talking about it, speak up more." But I hate blaming myself a ton like that. I just wish I could go home for the weekend...my mother and stepfather sent me a care package of little gifts and a card, acknowledging how difficult the month of November is to me. I felt so grateful to read that, "the month of November." Not just, "the 17th." They understand that I am in emotional pain. I wish I could be at home so they could be with me and comfort me. Instead, I'm at stupid old school. Ugh. It makes me angry! Maybe I'll just...talk about my dad a lot tomorrow, quash down the fear and speak up and say, "I want to talk about my dad. I remember when..." and just, talk about him. Just like that. It can't be that hard, can it? *sigh*

Dear Em, I can relate. School is a great distraction for me, but deep down, I am sad and lonely. I do normal things with people, like you said, but it's all so meaningless. It's stupid. None of these people really, really care about me, and I don't really, really care about them. I can't have a meaningful conversation about anything important, what to speak of how much I miss my father, with any of them. All of the people who really care for me are far away. Telephones...I just can't talk about important things on the phone with people. I miss so much having conversations that really mattered, and knowing when I sat down next to my dad that, here is someone who really loves me. It all comes back to me at nights, and I think all these things I wish I could blurt out and say to people...but they're (the people) all just so awkward, that I get torn between wanting to say it and dreading the awkwardness. During the day I am OK, but at night, I feel so lonely. I feel like you do about the future. Without them here to see it, what is the point of completing those future goals we were once, together, so excited about? I am forced to keep an eye on my future because my college graduation nears, but my mood about it is not excited. I'll be relieved when it's over. I'll be relieved to be able to get back into writing. A few months after my father passed, my writing was chugging along so well; I buried myself in it to help myself, I guess. But now, even the writing is lack luster and not very often...so I just drift along, repeating routines and missing so many people, and missing depth and meaning to my life. The tidbit I do get is the occasional religious function that I go to. I hope that we all come upon times where the burden is easier. take care, Chai

Dear PK, I am so sorry for the loss of your husband. It is very hard to lose people, and it is very hard to walk around when you know your life has changed forever, and see people whose lives are still the same. I think your friend has a good point with his words. We don't get over it, but we can survive it, get through it. I am not someone who lost my spouse, but I have had dreams of my loved ones. I think it took me...a couple weeks?...before I started dreaming about my dad. For some reason I am never allowed to think he is still not-gone, in my dreams, but it is lovely to see him every time. I've had them less the past few months, but just the other day I sat with him beside a bridge just like old times, and he wore an old favorite plaid shirt. Feel free to share anything and everything here. We are a community, we share and uphold and listen to each other. Cherish those dreams. They are special. Some of them are extra tough - more like nightmares - but I hope those that come to you are like sweet breaths of an old, familiar air. take care, Chai

Jess, I'm so sorry to hear of the loss of your father. I think it is wonderful, though, that you have found this website. As you have seen, even just reading other people's posts can help in the grieving process. I really like the encouraging things you said, about leaning on each other and not being proud not to cry. That is important to keep in mind. I am having trouble right now, even almost a year later, with talking to people, and I am trying to talk to people about my dad more, because I feel it would help me. I very much relate to what you said, about sadness on father not walking you down the aisle or being with grandchildren...I feel like that, too. Your superman story about your father is very sweet. =) thank you for sharing. take care, Chai

Thank you, Boo! I have checked out AMF. I tried to establish a chapter of the group at my school last semester but it didn't work out. Now I am discovering a couple people who have had losses, and who are doing therapeutic projects about their losses in my art and craft class. So...there is still the possibility of my forming a group on-campus. We shall see.