grief
Losing a family member is one of the most traumatic life events; Families must support one another to endure the five stages of grief and get through it together.
Never as We Planned
It's been years since I’ve seen you. I don’t know what I would do or how I would handle being face to face with you again. My heart could melt, burst, implode or I could feel nothing. Numb to the sight of you, but I know myself; you were a large part of my life, and you broke me when there was already nothing left to break.
By Taylor Somerville8 years ago in Families
Odd Girl Out...
Aside from the abuse itself, the most difficult … painful thing to live with is the loss of the family I grew up with; the only people who have known me since the day I was born. Beyond the lack of validation as they maintain relationships with my abuser (my mother) I am ostracized my only window into their world is Facebook; at times I allow myself bear witness to all that I am not - and will likely never be included in; that’s the dark-side of social media.
By Marnie Grundman8 years ago in Families
An Introspective
About a year ago, in January, I was sat on a train destined for London’s Denmark Hill. There is a hospital there. It is not far from the station and hugely imposing, with corridors so expansive one could easily become lost (and I regularly would). It had been a wonderful Christmas; wonderful, blissful happiness accompanied by a wonderfully blissful sense of ignorance and, I suppose, a youthful hope. In truth, I did not even know that anything could (or indeed would) be wrong. I met my parents at the hospital and, later that day, after confused faces blurred into one tear-marred mirage, a doctor finally decided to admit my mother into the hospital indefinitely. Then, my dad and I drove home, stopping at a restaurant to eat. It was a Saturday night and it was busy and loud, with people simply being wonderfully and blissfully happy. It was an overwhelming typical Saturday night.
By Caragh Taylor8 years ago in Families
My Testimony
My name is Lyndy. I am eighteen years old and I love Jesus. Who would have ever known I’d write this in a sentence. If you would have asked me a year ago, I would have told you I came from a place of despair. When I was a little girl, I spent a good amount of time with my grandmother. Every night, she would say a prayer and we would say what we were thankful for together. I was too young to know what or why I was doing what I was, but I did it anyways. Besides going to church on Easter day occasionally, that was the only time I could remember being devoted to God in any type of way. When I was nine, my uncle passed away. That was the lowest point in my life. Going through grief is so much harder when you have to watch everyone in your family go through it for years, too. Flash forward to my freshman year of high school, where I was friends with the “popular girls.” You know when you want to be friends with certain people and you don’t have anything in common, but you try anyway? That was what I did, and I did not feel comfortable or happy or loved. Flash forward to junior year when I was in a toxic relationship for a year and felt unworthy. Flash forward to when my great grandmother started getting sick. Many restless hospital visits, broken hearts, and many tears later, to the night I came into touch with Him. It was the beginning of January and my great grandmother’s health was slowly declining. She was in the hospital and I knew my grammy was a mess so I went to see her. I will never forget the hopelessness and tears that filled and consumed her. We talked for a while and the last thing she said to me was, “I guess the only thing we can do is just pray.” Something about that sparked my memory and I was reminded of my time with her as a child. I went home that night, crying. There was so much loss in my life that I would break down every time something bad would happen. I thought about what my grammy had said, “Just pray.” I had never prayed in my life but I went into my bedroom, got down on my knees, heavy. I was crying and I didn’t really know what I was doing, but I went with it.
By Lyndy Ehrenzeller8 years ago in Families
I Miss You
I’ll always be that little girl you held in your arms when I couldn’t even open my eyes. I’ll always be that girl that came crying to you after my first breakup and you cocked your shotgun. Your time has already come, and I don't know why the last time we saw you, you were doing just fine. It seems like just yesterday we were laughing with you. When I look up to the stars, I remember how special you are and how much I miss you.
By josh napper8 years ago in Families
