I try to understand what you were going thru...

Everyday something new, but not as bright as what we'd hoped.

Another day with unexplainable pain, that no one seems to know how to ease...

Physical pain is hard, but not near as hard as the hopeless feelings of being unable to help your family.

Being used to controlling the situation, working harder, longer or more to make the ends meet.

Until that day when the physical pain takes away your bodies drive...but not your minds.

Your alone in your head, paralyzed, unable to do what you know you would if you could.

The thoughts of helplessness swirl like a whirlwind.

When they finally stop, all the strength it took to think them, didn't mean a thing, because nothing has changed.

We have gotten no further than we were when we started.

I try to understand what you were going thru...

Grief is Not Quicksand
Carol Staudache

Grief is not quicksand.

Often, a survivor fears that if he shows his sadness,
there will be no end to it.

If you are among those who feel
that you do not know how intense, lengthy,
or deep your expression of grief may be,
you may find yourself thinking
that it would be impossible
or at least very difficult
for you to pull out of grief's deep pit
to do all the things you need to do
before or after the death.

Being afraid of getting sucked down
into a hollow of "no return"
is not realistic.

Grief is not quicksand.
Rather, it is a walk on rocky terrain
that eventually smoothes out
and provides less challenge
both emotionally and physically . . .

For example, you may think:
I will fall apart
and won't be able to function
if I start to show how I feel.

Replace such thoughts
with the more realistic:
I will let go for a time,
release what I feel,
and will be able to function better
as a result of having VENTED the feelings
that are an ever-present burden.

Carol Staudache

A Time To Mourn
by Jill Englar

I am lost in grief, numb with shock,
filled with disbelief and at times, rage,
besieged by an army of rebellious emotions,
my instinct is to retreat.

I want to hide under a blanket and sleep,
awakening only to your smiling face.
But the nightmare is real,
and you are not coming back.

I am a worry to my family
and a stranger to our friends,
adrift in a sea of despair
and marooned in an unwelcome reality.

Please don't rush my grief
or tell me to move on with my life.
I need time.
My loss must be processed;
my pain must be healed.

Please be gentle and kind.
Offer a hot meal - not advice!
Share a cup of tea.

Understand my silence may be from fatigue
and emptiness within.
Please don't shy away
when I vent anger and frustration.
I may even seem bitter
and envious of those around me.

Have patience as I reminisce
and gaze fondly at old photographs.
Speak my beloved's name and smile
as we reflect shared memories.
I am not afraid of tears,
only the loneliness each day brings.

Grieving takes time, grieving requires support.
Embrace me with love; companion me with hope.
My faith gets me out of bed,
your support keeps me going.

Thank you for being my friend.

Grief Is an Emotion

Grief is an emotion, not a disease.
There is no time table for recovery.
But there is also no getting around the pain.
Each of us has to experience the pain in order to
recover from it…
Our hopes and dreams may no longer be possible.
We may feel hopeless and want to run away.
It takes time and effort to regain the ability to function.
We must express our feelings and be patient with ourselves.
Grief is a process.
Recovery is a decision.
Readjustment does not come overnight.
But each of us can resolve to survive
- one moment at a time.

A Shade of Sadness
by Donna Mae Scuncio

In comes the darkness to my soul
even as I sit in the early morning sun,
the distant sounds of the living
seem far removed from the fogginess of my mind.

In the stillness of the house
which seems quieter than quiet,
time seems to pass too slowly.

A feeling of being outside myself
looking back into an empty shell
of the person I used to be.

I cry for my former self.
That person I once liked and enjoyed.
She is gone.
A loss within a loss, within a loss.

A heaviness in my heart,
the weight of a million tears.
Drowning my emotions,
mixing and swirling in a pool of despair.
Ugly hateful despair.

A sadness so deep and heavy
leaving the body tired and used,
I feel I could sleep,
sleep for a thousand years and never wake up.

A thousand years will not change a thing.

You would still not be here.
What to believe, I don't know.
I just don't know. My soul is lost.

I know not which way to turn.
Where to look,
where to find comfort for my aching heart.

I feel helpless,
helpless to help my self,
annoyed with the daily things of life I must do.

I don't care, not anymore.
The world could fall upon it's knees
it would not matter,
I am too shrouded in the darkness of my world
that spins ever out of control,
directing my emotions
with no warning as to what feelings
will be brought upon me next.

There is guilt, another weight to bear.
Those who are with me, who I love and love me,
they need me, but I am not ready.
I hold them back at arms length,
I am not ready,
their demands draw on what strength I have left.
For that I am sorry,
but I cannot help bringing on the emotional distance.
There is a need to protect myself,
but from what I am not sure.

There is anger.
Anger that occasionally swells within me.
There is no direction into which to fling this anger.
It is a new and different type of anger
not one I am familiar with and it disturbs me.
It makes me afraid.

I try to be strong. For you, and only you.
I try to think what you would have me do.

I know you would want me to live my life.
To continue on. It is not an easy task, not at all.

Some days I can go out
and meet the world with vigor and say I do this for you.

Some days I must crawl into my shell
and hide from the world that has been so cruel to me.
I am trying.

The days are filled with thoughts of you,
and should I find myself not thinking of you,
I gasp for fear that I am forgetting you.

I have learned to value life, you have taught me this.
To see the beauty in each day given to me,
even through this veil of sad darkness.
I know it is there waiting for me.

Someday the sadness will lift
and I will only think of you
with a smile and warmness in my heart.
My love for you will always be there
that shall never pass
and I hope somehow you know this too.

Your memory is only a heartbeat away.
I shall always love,
I shall always long for you,
I shall always wish to have you back.
And I shall live -- if only for you.

When I ask you to listen to me and you start giving me advice,
you have not done what I have asked.
When I ask you to listen to me and you begin to tell me why I shouldn't feel that way, you are trampling on my feelings.
When I ask you to listen to me and you feel you have to do something to solve my problems,
you have failed me, strange as that may seem.
Listen! All I asked was that you listen,
not talk or do -just hear me.
Advice is cheap; twenty cents will get you both Dear Abbey and Billy Graham in the same newspaper.
I can do for myself. I'm not helpless.
Maybe discouraged and faltering, but not helpless.
When you do something for me that I can do myself, you contribute to my fear and inadequacy.
But when you accept as a simple fact that I do feel what I feel no matter how irrational,
then I can quit trying to convince you and get about the business of understanding what's behind this irrational feeling.
And when that's clear, the answers are obvious and I don't need advise.
Irrational feelings make sense when we understand what's behind them.
Perhaps that's why prayer works, sometimes for some people...
Because god is mute and doesn't give advice or try to fix things.
He just listens and lets you work it out for yourself.
So please listen and just hear me.
And if you want to talk, wait a minute for your turn --
and I'll listen to you.