I love you.

It does suck, Lovely Lady. It sucks that the world can just go on as if nothing had happened and, yet, your world ... the world as you knew it has come to an end.

I remember watching others go about life as if nothing had happened when I lost my brother and, again, when I lost my brother-in-law. I was screaming inside but the world went on.

I remember when a very good friend of mine lost her father and then her two sons in a matter of two weeks. I remember her asking how God could let this happen. I remember her asking how could she go on. I had no answers. No-one did I suspect. I felt helpless.

But I don't think God let's it happen. Life happens. And with life comes death.

I feel helpless now as you grieve for your beautiful boy. I wish I could at least hug you. But I am here ... hugging you in thought ... and holding you in prayer.

You write of your pain here in a way I understand very well. Thank you for letting me walk here beside you as you walk through this difficult time. It is something I, and I think many others, would like to do for you ... walk beside you and hold you while you cry.

My love to you, Terri.

My heart goes out to you. Much love.

No need to think about tomorrow or even the next five minutes. Just concentrate on breathing. Soon enough you'll have time for those goals.

Death does suck, and learning to live the new normal sucks even more. My mother died Nov. 9, so I can understand some of how you feel now. Hang in there and do what you have to do to get yourself to the other side. No apologies to anyone required for anything that you do or say.

As someone who also lost a first born son, you have my deepest sympathies. It's a difficult journey, and I wish you care and consolation along the way.

I'm so sorry sweet heart, I wish there was some way to make it better. I'm so very sorry.

I've been thinking about you a lot this week. *hug*

My deepest condolences.

Thank you all for reading, for your love, I just need to write as it seems to stop the tears for awhile and keeps me calmer. I will understand when the comments slow down and will not take it personally. I know there are no real words to say that have not been said.

keep going beautiful one

I can't even begin to tell you how very sorry I am. Sending you all my love. You're in my thoughts and prayers daily.
Love you,
Kim

I cannot even imagine what this is like. The pain and hurt must be incomprehensible. You are in my prayers.

You are a member of an exclusive club no one should ever have to join. Peace will come, in whatever measure at whatever time, you know this. But not now. Now you grieve, you rage, you scream at the heavens, and --thank g-d-- you write and write and write about your pain, among friends. We will never stop listening or caring or supporting with loving thoughts and open hearts. One day at a time, Terri, one breath at a time. We're here.

Know that I, and many others, are thinking of you.

You know my heart goes out to you. I lost a brother, but I cannot imagine the loss of a child. It's something no mother should have to imagine, or live through. Heartbreaking. Just heartbreaking.

I am so very sorry. I wish I could help somehow.

Rated!

Life does go on, and the comment support may indeed slow some, but that doesn't mean the support of thoughts for you will be gone.

I think we human animals can only sustain so much pain before we have to distract ourselves - and that includes you Terri. So when the urge strikes to smile or even laugh at a memory you and he shared, go with it - never mind if anyone around you thinks it's inappropriate or 'too early' - it's never too early for any memory, even, or maybe especially, for the good ones. And it's not their business to tell you how you feel anyway. Only you know that.

This is supposed to hurt, so let it. Just know that the good stuff comes too, slowly, a little bit now, maybe a little more then, but it's there hand in hand with the pain, to give you a needed break.. and begin the healing.

Rated for ebb and flow.

Keep on pouring it out in words. We read and understand.

There is much love for you here, Terri. Mine included.

I'm sure many of us understand your pain, though the extent of it is bound to be much more in your case.

I've just lost my father and feel like no one is really concerned because he was an old man and life goes on. But our pain is a personal thing and we all need those helping hands at times.

Take one day at a time and seek comfort in the loving support you're given here by many kind souls.

Your pain is mine and the words are devine.

Jesus wept.

Much love, Lovely Lady ... minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day ... all the holding ... holds ...

Writing is a far better way of coping with pain
Than hitting the bottle or finding a fresh vein.
With empathy.

"God where are you?"

He's there...He never left Terri. Perhaps it is time to write and tell Him how you feel?

Walks, music and force yourself to eat. Get outside at least twice a day.

~R~

......be well

No matter how many times I say it I can't tell you how sorry I am.

from W. H. Auden:


Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

I am so sincerely sorry for your loss. I watched my parents go through the loss of their son, and their pain was unbearable to watch. I hope it helps to know that there are people here who are thinking of you and wishing you well.

Oh, Terri! So much relentless pain. I am so, so, so, SO sorry. Of course it's all been said over and over again but I want you to know that one more person is thinking about you, right now, and wishing she could make things better...
Prayers, of course. Before and after and always.
And I will read everything you write. If I can only witness, that much, I will do it and hope that a spark of my love can reach you, if only for a moment.

What a raw and hurting poem. Thinking of you. You have faced the loss that every parent fears most--twice. How terribly unjust.

My grandmother, unable to console her son, my father, said, to no one in particular, "it unnatural for parents to bury their children." I think I remember that her mother had buried two.

In your pain, I remain, here.