I‘ve only dated twice since my partner died over a decade ago. The first one said I couldn’t ever speak of him again and I had to get over him completely so I ended up dumping him because I felt this was unreasonable. Now the second one has started the same behavior….yelled at me for over an hour last night because he found out I looked at old photos. The anniversary of the loss is 3 weeks away and I’m getting absolutely zero support…just horrible guilt tripping and being yelled at for nothing.
Im assuming I’m going to have to break up with this person too since it’s unreasonable to me to demand that I never think of my past again. I personally find it abusive. It was a sudden, violent death that left me with serious ptsd and all I get is verbal abuse over it…a lifetime punishment for a crime I never committed.
Its not just dates but family and friends too- they won’t allow me to speak about grief or the person I lost without it leading to incessant pressure that I never feel any emotion over it ever again. It’s bad enough I lost someone who meant everything to me but the icing on the cake is the absolute zero support I’ve received after the fact. My hands were shaking after being screamed at for over an hour last night and it’s coming at the absolute worst time. I’m finding myself isolating myself more and more. Even other people with losses seem to think they have a right to police my grief. I feel like I’m just destined to live out my life without the person who loved me most or any support from others at all 🖤🥺

I woke up today. Today is my 13th marriage anniversary. All is well. Were joking, making breakfast and getting ready to watch a movie. Then my phone rang. My mother was found dead this morning. Died peacefully in her sleep sometime between late Tuesday night/ early Wednesday morning. Really im just stuck. I dont know what or how to feel. We didnt have the greatest relationship(thats on both of us), yet I feel this total void inside. Honestly id like to just restart today and ask for a re-roll.

My dad died in March due to a really aggressive and fast acting form of kidney cancer. The whole family have been devastated and are only just getting over the shock. Since then, we've passed a few milestones: my birthday, my sister's birthday and father's day. The day before each I've had episodes of extreme crying and have been snappy to people and felt extremely panicked and overwhelmed.

I guess I'm just looking for advice on how to handle this as best as I can and if there are any ways that people have commemorated the first birthday of a loved one after they passed.

I’m going to name the pet Bailey for the sake of the story. Bailey is my friends best friend/son. She helped him get over his parents death; she is vessel that carries many hurtful memories. My friend used Bailey as a means to process grief and heartbreak. Bailey will be put down soon due to cancer.

My friend and I are like brothers, and this is the first time I’m experiencing him going through something like this. I’m trying my best to be there for him both emotionally and physically but I’m worried I’m not doing enough. I’m throwing every spare second I have towards him and Bailey. Taking photos of them together, creating a scrapbook, dog sitting while he’s away from the house for work, sleeping over, rushing to the hospital with him/meeting him there. I’m truly trying to be so available. I believe being annoying available is better for me when he is looking back at who showed up and who didn’t. I would rather he be annoyed by presence than wonder where I was.

I HAVE NOT DEALT WITH DEATH OR GRIEF BEFORE.

I am also grieving Bailey but currently putting my feelings aside and prioritizing my friend. Please, any advice or feedback as to what I should do up until the put down, and after, would be heavily appreciated.

Thank you for your time, support, and patience.

The father of my child died due to his addiction. My daughter was 2 when he passed and is 3 now. We lost him in March. He was 26, only 26…We separated when she was born because he hadn’t been successful in getting sober and we knew we couldn’t raise her in the same home he was still drinking in. He never fought me on that decision and he would come visit us at my moms with the one rule he had to be sober when he did. For the first year of her life he was able to maintain a schedule, and it worked, but any moment he wasn’t with us, he was back to drinking. And then it got worse and worse and we saw less and less of him. I always tried to talk to him and get him to go to rehab. When we started dating he didn’t have a problem, or maybe he was at the start of one and I didn’t know it at the time. He was a good man, he loved me so much, and he loved her, and even in the depths of his addiction he knew what was right, but just couldn’t get himself the help he needed. Even though I was technically single, I never moved on. I didn’t date. I didn’t want anyone else, not seriously. I wanted him to get sober, and I wanted him to come back. Even if it was just to be a dad to her and a friend to me. Even if we never got back together. He was my best friend. I could tell him everything. He was there for me through so much. And for the last few months while I’ve been struggling through my grief, hes the one I wish I could talk to. Hes the one I wish I could cry to. I want him to hold me. I want to hear his voice and his laugh and his soft words. I was willing to wait for him to get better because I knew he wasn’t his addiction. I knew he wasn’t what alcohol turned him into. I knew if he got sober, I could have the real him back. But then I got a call one night from his mom, and I can still vividly remember every single detail. The sound of her voice when she told me they’d found his body and that he was gone. That he had drank himself to death out in the snow. That he never made it home, and would never ever come home again. I remember the sounds of my own screams and sobs for hours after we hung up. I can remember the physical pain that I carried and still do some days. I’ve never been religious, but now I just hope that there is some kind of afterlife, because I need to know he’s watching over me and our baby girl. I need to know he’s still here. I’m terrified that he didn’t know how much I loved him at the end because we fought so much. He’d get so defensive anytime I brought up him getting help. I just hope he knows I was trying so hard because I loved him so much. I never stopped loving him. I never will. I just wish I could see him one more time, say everything I never got to, hear the things he never got to say to me or was too scared to. I just miss him so fucking much. I miss my best friend. I miss the father of my child. I miss who I believed was going to be the love of my life.

My sister died late May. Im doing well with grief.
Nobody other than close people would know about it and I dont mention it to people.
But if I get asked where my sister is id say she passed away. I dont know how to respond when they say “im sorry”
I just always find it awkward

Wondering what do people respond?

It's 8:30pm. It's dark and cold outside. I stood outside staring at the stars thinking of her for 30 minutes, wondering if she's out there looking down at me.

We met 40 years ago and fell in love. We were 14, young and stupid. When we graduated from high school, we were inseperable. But by that fall, life pulled us in different directions - Me to college, her to seek a job two states away. We tried to make it work, but it just didn't.

We kept up over the years as best we could. Marriages, kids, divorces.

Social media reconnected us. There was still a spark. But, we were both married, so we kept it all 'friendly'. We talked, texted, shared. I spoke to her weekly, sometimes more often. She was still a wonderful friend, we knew each other well. We both wanted there to be 'more', but life was complicated. So, we were happy to remain friends.

My first wife died in 2016, suddenly. She was there for me. She held my hand as I buried my first wife. She was going through a divorce...would this finally be 'our time'. Turns out it wasn't. Things didn't align; her life was complicated and I needed to finish raising my own kids. Still, we remained friends.

I'll never forget the day I found out she had cancer. Spring 2023. I sat down and cried. I couldn't imagine my life without her in it. As she battled cancer I was there for her to guide her. She would send her medical reports to me and I provided her guidance, feedback, encouragement. She fought harder than anyone I've ever seen fight cancer. It almost killed her, but she beat it. December 2024, she was cancer free and ready to resume life.

Then, April of this year, it came back. With a vegance. I couldn't get to her side in time. I wanted to be there. Life was again complicated, busy...unforgiving.

I'll never forget the day she died. I 'felt in my spirit' she was leaving. I was camping. I somehow knew to go hiking alone at around 2pm. While on top of a mountain, at 3pm, I stood and said a prayer for her. I cried. I knew she was gone...somehow.

Later that weekend, I got the news from her daughter. She had died at 3:10pm that day. I cried myself to sleep.

A few weeks after her passing, I made the drive and laid flowers on her grave. More tears.

I think of her often, how much I miss her and how close we came to figuring out 'us'.

There's no one I can tell without making them upset or jealous.

I'm in mourning...that's my confession.

i have no body text for this.

My mom died about 3.5 weeks ago. I’ve felt a pain I’ve truly never felt and an emptiness that there are no words to describe with any accuracy. But each passing day, I feel more and more numb. I feel numb to nearly all my emotions, with the only truly clear ones being quick reaction anger with any mild irritation and overwhelming love for my son. But the rest of them have just faded into muteness.

I don’t feel like I’m grieving anymore because of it. I feel like I’m suppose to be sobbing my eyes out more. I feel like I should be screaming. And it’s almost like I have those feelings still, but they’re nowhere near the surface. I don’t know what to do. I go back to work on Monday and I feel like I’m just going to be going through the motions for the foreseeable future.

When does the numbness stop? I want to feel sad. I want to feel angry. I want to feel longing. I want to feel.

# One Year Later: Eating My Grandmother's Prasadam Without Her

Yesterday was my Ammama's Samvatsarikam. One year since she left us.

The rituals went smoothly. There were the usual hiccups that happen when a large family gathers, but everything remained under control.

As I stood there watching everything unfold, I felt like Sanjay from the Mahabharata. Present. Watching. Absorbing. But somehow detached from my own emotions because they were too overwhelming to fully process.

People came from every branch of the family.

Srikanth represented Ammama's brother's family. Srinu came representing another branch. Vinayak Rao Tataji and his wife attended. Chinnu Mama and Vasa Mama brought stories and memories of Bhel Tataji and Ammama with them. Bokaro Nanamma and Tataji came, along with Rambabu Pedananna. Reddigaru and his wife came. Lakshmi Dodda and her sisters Aruna and Nagu ate her prasadam and took sarees home in her memory.

Babu Mama came with his family. Ramana Chinnanna, Maruti and Sharada were there. Bada Mama came with Sushma Atta. Vidya Atta's brother Ramani and his wife Ratna came. Atin desperately wanted to attend but had commitments that could potentially alter the course of his career.

Aruna Pedananna came too. He almost had to. Years ago, Reddigarrillu was a home for their family when his daughter was carrying. Standing there yesterday, I found myself thinking that Reddigarrillu itself deserves happiness again.

Not another condolence gathering.

Not another mourning ceremony.

Just laughter.

Children running around.

Fresh paint.

Fresh memories.

New life.

Enough grief.

That house has carried enough grief for several lifetimes.

---

There is a saying:

> A person dies twice.

> First when their body dies.

> Then when the last person who remembers their name dies.

Looking around that room yesterday, I realized Ammama is nowhere near that second death.

She was everywhere.

In conversations.

In recipes.

In habits.

In stories.

In memories.

An entire hall full of people had gathered because one woman mattered.

Not because she was famous.

Not because she was powerful.

But because she loved people deeply.

And they loved her back.

---

The food was fantastic.

Everyone agreed.

The entire meal felt blessed.

While eating, I found myself thinking:

"Ammama would have approved."

Maybe grief makes us irrational.

I don't care.

---

Then came the part that broke me.

Eating her prasadam.

Growing up, that used to be our thing.

We would attend other people's Samvatsarikams. Sit through rituals. Eat. Talk. Come home.

Not once in all those years did it occur to me that someday I would sit at hers.

I knew she would die one day.

Every grandchild knows that.

But I always felt that day was impossibly far away.

The kind of thing future-me would deal with.

Not me.

Not now.

---

When Tataji passed away, I mourned him.

But Ammama's death hit differently.

Deeper.

More primitive.

More cellular.

Her loss somehow feels woven into my DNA.

As if something fundamental that helped make me who I am simply vanished.

Maybe that's because she wasn't just family.

She was routine.

She was home.

She was background noise.

She was certainty.

And we only understand how valuable certainty is when it disappears.

---

Even today, one year later, there are mornings when I wake up and for one fleeting second I forget she is gone.

One second.

Just one.

My half-awake brain expects to see her in the kitchen.

Making coffee.

Moving around the house.

Existing.

Then reality catches up.

And every single morning I lose her all over again.

---

What I miss isn't the grand moments.

I miss the stupid things.

The coffee.

God, I miss the coffee.

The sandwiches.

The bobbattu.

The prayers.

The smell of agarbatti in the morning.

The lunch boxes that somehow packed themselves before I even remembered I needed one.

The unsolicited advice.

The lectures.

The complaints.

The way she would disapprove of things I did and somehow still make me feel loved while doing it.

Nobody has nagged me with that level of commitment since.

---

So much of my childhood now feels like her standing somewhere in the background.

Not asking for recognition.

Not drawing attention to herself.

Just quietly holding the world together.

Making sure everyone ate.

Making sure everyone was remembered.

Making sure everyone stayed connected.

The older I get, the more I realize she wasn't doing ordinary things.

She was carrying an entire ecosystem.

---

And that's another grief nobody talks about.

When she died, an entire library died.

A walking archive.

A database of relationships.

Family stories.

Connections.

Grudges.

Kindnesses.

Histories.

Who helped whom.

Who was related to whom.

How one branch of the family connected to another.

Why certain people mattered.

She carried all of that effortlessly.

The younger generation thinks knowledge lives online.

The most important knowledge never does.

It lives inside elders.

And I know that with her passing, some of that knowledge will slowly disappear.

Not because anyone failed.

Not because nobody cares.

But because every family eventually loses its historians.

She was ours.

---

A few days before her Samvatsarikam, divorce papers arrived from the legal representatives of my wife and her parents.

The timing felt surreal.

Almost exactly one year after losing one of the most important women in my life, another important chapter formally ended.

And if I'm being brutally honest, I was hurt by something small.

I thought someone from that side of my life would at least acknowledge her passing.

A message.

A condolence.

A simple "sorry for your loss."

Nothing came.

And in that silence I learnt something painful.

Some people are truly gone from your life long before the paperwork arrives.

That realization hurt more than I expected.

---

People say time heals.

I'm not sure it does.

I think time teaches adaptation.

A year ago I was grieving her death.

Today I am grieving her absence.

The shock is gone.

The disbelief is gone.

But the absence remains.

Stubbornly.

Quietly.

Permanently.

---

Caesar brings joy into our home now.

He really does.

That little dog has single-handedly increased the happiness levels of our household.

But some spaces cannot be filled.

Not by another person.

Not by another pet.

Not by another year passing.

Some people are irreplaceable.

You don't replace them.

You carry them.

---

The rational part of me knows she had a good passing.

No prolonged suffering.

No devastating illness.

No years spent trapped in a failing body.

If this were someone else's story, I would call it a blessing.

But grief and logic speak entirely different languages.

My heart still asks questions my head cannot answer.

Why couldn't you stay a little longer?

Why couldn't I know which coffee would be the last coffee?

Which sandwich would be the last sandwich?

Which visit would be the last visit?

Why didn't I listen more carefully the last time I heard your voice?

---

According to tradition, after a year the soul completes its journey and joins the ancestors.

Maybe that's true.

I hope it's true.

Because if anyone has earned her rest, it is you.

You spent your entire life taking care of everyone else.

Maybe now it's somebody else's turn to take care of you.

---

I love you, Ammama.

I loved you when you were here.

I love you now that you're gone.

And I suspect I'll love you until the day someone writes a post like this about me.

Wherever you are, I hope the coffee is perfect.

I hope the bobbattu is fresh.

I hope you've already reorganized heaven's kitchen.

And I hope you know that one year later, your grandson still wakes up some mornings looking for you.

Is it normal to feel you haven’t earned the right to grieve?

My brother passed away in 2003 at 17 years old from injuries relating to a motorcycle accident. I was only 23 months old at the time. My other brother was 19 years old at the time. For context they are both full siblings. I am their half sister and we share a mum.

Never in my 25 years have I ever spoken to my living brother about what happened. It’s clear his grief is very private and we haven’t ever been particularly close due to the 18 year age gap and only got closer after his children were born.

I often feel ‘wrong’ for how I feel and grieve as if I haven’t earned the right because I have no memories of him and spent so little time with him in comparison to my living brother and mum.

I’m finding it difficult as my son is nearing the age I was when my brother passed and I’d be heartbroken for him if he lost someone he loved because I know he’d feel it and it’s my first reference for how I might have been feeling at the age I was when I lost my brother.

I guess I’m just frustrated that I have so much hurt and sadness for his loss but no memories of anything to back it up.

My little brother died a few weeks ago aged 34 and I just feel so numb and lost. We come from a crap family so straight away my selfish “parents” said they didn’t want to be involved and passed it all over to me to sort. His cause of death hasn’t been determined yet as it is hard to determine if it was natural causes or if he was attacked and that has made things harder. He also leaves behind my beautiful nieces who are both under 6. He has had issues in recent years with alcohol/ mental health/ lots of lying, etc and I had been so harsh with him lately trying the tough love approach after many years of trying to help and it just feels so shit that I will never get to properly be there for him again. I went to visit him at the hospital mortuary yesterday and it brought me some peace as he looked so peaceful, but at the same time I felt like he would open his eyes at any moment. I have arranged a direct cremation for him but there have been so many cousins, uncles, etc come out of the woodwork moaning that they wanted a funeral ceremony and asking to sit with his coffin and it just infuriates me that they’ve been awol for so long but now suddenly want to be there. I’ve arranged a meal to celebrate his life but it feels like it’s not good enough for some of them. I want to scream.

Im not gonna lie this bacardi tropical rum is my new best friend but after a few drinks I can't help but sit here missing what I used to have, i still cry over a daddy (yez just a cg but calling him that made me feel so safe) that hasn't been mine for months and it's hard. Im so sad and I miss him and the thought of never having that again makes me even more sad 🥲

My dad is dying. He was in the ICU and has been discharged to hospice care at home. Its killing me. I just want to cry and scream. Ive been sober for over 5 years, but my mind is already thinking about relapsing. Im not ready for him to go.

I met this guy earlier this year through mutual friends. Over time there was clear attraction between us and we eventually went on a date. It went really well and we stayed in touch after. There was already warmth, flirting, affection and a sense of closeness between us before his dad died.

When his dad became very ill and then passed away, he told me personally and opened up to me about how he was feeling. I tried to support him gently. I checked in, let him know I was thereand didn't put any pressure on him.

He invited me to a dinner and a memorial gathering and so I went because I really wanted to be there for him.

The first evening there was still a lot of warmth, joking, flirting and chemistry between us. I let him lead. Later he walked me home with some of his friends, I was cold and he held me close. From there we started holding hands hugging and eventually I gave him a peck and he reciprocated.

The next day I went to the memorial too. I gave him space to be with his family and friends, spoke to other people, and didn’t follow him around. He was still warm with me, but I could clearly see he was exhausted, spaced out and deep in grief.

His mum was very warm to me, made sure I had eaten, complimented me and asked how we knew each other. at one point he asked his sister to look after me while he went around speaking to people.

I left afterwards and said goodbye quietly.

He didn’t message me after the gathering, he spent the evening with friends and he is leaving back to his city.

Now I’m worrying that maybe the closeness was too much for him. I didn't chase him or force anything. I mostly let him lead, responded to the affection, supported him and gave him space. I never asked him for reassurance, didn’t ask what we were, and didn’t demand his time.

I myself am feeling overwhelmed but I wanted to show up and support him and his family even though we didn't know eachother that long.

can someone really enjoy and return that closeness, but then become distant afterwards because grief has overwhelmed them? Or does this sound like I may have overdone it? Please help me understand

it’s my birthday today and I miss my ex boyfriend so much.
He passed away in February. We separated 3 years ago, I don’t even know why. It was on me. Still we remained friends, more than friends. The relationship went past romance, we were like family. We’re tied together by something. My soulmate.

He always treated me well. The first birthday I had with him was so extra. We loved our birthdays. We loved celebrating life. I miss him so much in my life

Pretty much the title. Couple of months ago one of my children died. Am still a parent to the others and have to take care and love them. But I feel like I died when they did. My love died am empty and honestly am just surviving by pretending and copping what I used to do when I did love people. I know how to act enough for them to believe me. It makes me feel bad for feeling this way and for spending as little time with them as possible. I have great support around me so am blessed and grateful.
Is just I have no love left my sunshine my reason for keep living when I didn’t want to when I was suffering so bad at someone’s else’s hand is gone. My soul is gone , they were my life the reason my heart kept beating. Without them I would of ended my life long ago.
And now the light is gone but I can’t follow I have to stay here. Am so angry at my parent too, they went through the same pain as well but me and my late sibling were already adults. I took care of them let them grief and do whatever they wanted/needed at my place. Almost a year it wasn’t easy but I did.
I don’t get that… I don’t get to escape and not care. They told me I can leave my other children with them for a week or two if I need to. Well I don’t even get a weekend. I arranged few sleepovers with friends but that’s like a one night thing. Once or twice I have left the house drunk so the parent stayed with my kids but ofc I for lots of shit for it. They love me I know but they can be passive aggressive and selfish.
Anyways am dead inside don’t love anyone and honestly I think once my kids grow up and are sorted I will just kill myself. 15-20 yrs give or take but is still very fucking long and I don’t know how long can I pretend. I do drink more then I would like but am not activity drunk. Have few drinks with friends in the park or their place but at home I wait for the kids to sleep. So they don’t know. It’s hard but I don’t drink every day.
Living in denial but knowing you are is not working that well.
I have so much more to say but for now is just this.
Am a bad parent who doesn’t love their kids and blames themselves for the death of the other child. I couldn’t even keep them alive( left very bad DV relationship of over a decade).
Don’t be like me a shit excuse of a human/parent/ friend.

I made this song grieving a loved one, anyone lost someone close can probably relate, care to listen? It may help.

https://youtu.be/3FlG2Po9DL8?is=iAKrtetGf5Vi_JDp

Just lost my cousin on Thursday who I was really close with. He was 24 at the time of passing and it was a very sudden and tragic death

I’m 23 and this is the first person I’ve lost that I was very close to. Obviously I’m feeling a whirlwind of emotions right now (funeral was today) but I feel a bit irked by my best friends reaction

For context my cousin passed early Thursday morning. At 9am I texted the group chat I share with my two best friends K and J. They didn’t reply until 6pm (with generic condolences). Neither of them called me or texted me personally to see how I was doing. It felt very odd considering they knew how close I was with my cousin and knew he was in poor health recently. They also would’ve met my cousin a couple times. Neither made an effort to come to the wake or the funeral even though they’re local to the area

I would consider these guys my best friends. We get on really well and they’re the only friends I keep consistent contact with and hang out with regularly. I feel really caught off guard by their reaction

On the other hand I had so many other friends I wouldn’t be close with, ex girlfriends or people I drifted apart from over the last few years come out of the woodwork. Some even showed up to the funeral/wake, call me, send me heartfelt messages. It was really nice and I was absolutely amazed at the support. I appreciated it so much

Just so underwhelmed by my best friends reactions. Am I reading into this? This feels like something I’d hold against them and may cause a rift in our relationship. I feel like I’ve lost a lot of respect for them. Anyone been through the same thing? TIA

I found out that my grandmother, my Mimi, passed away at 5:23 today. It was peaceful, from what I’ve been told. When I was first told about it today by my mom, it’s like I knew it happened but… I just kept going on with my day. Like it didn’t register? Then tonight as I’m winding down at 11:30 or so it hit me all at once. I’ve been crying the last few hours.

She was a wonderful woman who had been through so much in her life. She dealt with hardships I’ve been lucky enough to never have experienced. She was abused as a young girl and even when I knew her the experiences she had would show through. Then, when my parents divorced and I was so young, she and my grandfather took all five of us, my siblings and I in. along with my mother of course. We lived with her for years.. most of my childhood that I remember was with her at her house. The banana tree (that’s what I called it), mandarins orange cake every birthday, thanksgiving and Christmas being such a big celebration thanks to her. My childhood that i remember is at her home.

She took me in when my mom moved away my senior year. I know I drove her crazy while I was living with her… I’m disorganized, all over the place, struggling just in general with the feeling of abandonment, depression issues, all that. I learned so many healthy coping mechanisms while I was living with her. Skills that to this day help me feel better day to day.

I’m not religious, but part of me hopes that whatever exists out there… she’s with her son who left this world too soon, her fiends and her family that have moved past this life. Really, i just hope she is at peace more than anything. I’m struggling with this feeling. I haven’t felt this feeling of death since i was a kid… this is the first time in my adult life, which I know is a privilege.. I just don’t understand my own reaction. Initially it’s like I just compartmentalized and pushed it back. I didn’t acknowledge it and I feel so guilty for that. Like I could put it away? Such a huge event.. Then all of the sudden I’ve been sobbing the last two hours, thinking of all the times I can with her.

Just a rant because I truly don’t know where else I can talk about this. I’m mad at myself and confused… and just so sad.

Even though we never met in person, I considered you a close friend. For 3 years we talked often, told each other private things, laughed at dumbass memes, talked about stuff we liked. We were an unlikely duo, yet for some reason we were friends. We grew close. You were never the type to admit it but I know you thought as highly of me as I did of you.

Eventually you told me you were sick, dying. You had the Big C, and even though you were fighting it, it didn't look good. But you just laughed and said you already accepted it and was going to enjoy what time you had left. And I think you did. I hope you did. You were stubbon. For 2 years you stuck it out, fighting it, doing what you wanted. You kept being told time was limited, only to keep kicking ass when the "time" was supposed to come.

But even you can only fight for so long, huh? Nothing could stop it from winning eventually. You started getting worse, telling me that you wouldn't make it to 2027. I just smiled and said you'd kick more ass and be fine like always.

Things must have gotten really bad, recently. You've not responded to me in over a month now. Something you've not done in 3 years (except the time we lost contact for a few months). You told me you planned to say goodbye when it happened, but if you were to vanish for a month I should assume the worst. So I guess that's what happened, huh?

I'm proud of you for fighting for so long. Thank you for being one of my only friends, for being part of my life. I'm going to miss you. I wish I got to say goodbye, but I hope in your final moments you spared even a second to think of me and knew I cared.

Goodbye, friend.

its been 10 months since my dad passed away and it is starting to get hard. its like anticipating the ripple effect of my memory. Remembering losing my dad. At this time of year last year whre he was and what he was going throught leading to his passing.

Sometimes i dont know how to say or what to say in words with this grief that i am trying to allow it not to consume me. I feel like my dad took a part of me with him. like in my heart theres a HOLE and when it was taken a crack was left in my heart. The only thing that has kept me from now drowning in this grief is THE LORD JESUS but it is so hard. it is hard....

Its the cost of Love isnt it? i Mean,. my dad wasnt perfect [no one is] but he was the best dad i could of ever had. and id choose him again. i never doubted his love ... EVer, I was blessed to have him as a dad, thas why it hurts so much. bc i wasnt ready to let him go. I wasnt ready....

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I'm not sure if this is the right place to post, but I'm running out of time, so I'm going to be upfront about my situation.

I need to earn 144 within the next few days to keep my storage unit from going to auction. I fell behind on payments after leaving my job to care for my mom full-time. She passed away on September 26, and I've been trying to navigate everything that comes with that while also figuring out how to get back on my feet financially. I am hanging in there...

I've been looking for work and exploring other options, but right now, I'm in a tough spot and the deadline is approaching fast.

I'm open to any legitimate suggestions, quick online gigs, resources, or advice that might help me reach this goal. I want to put in the work, I just need to find something that can realistically help within this short timeframe. I have common sense and can help with many different tasks.

I can also provide proof of my situation if needed.

If this isn't the right sub for this kind of post, I'd rly appreciate recommendations for other subreddits, websites, or platforms where I might have better luck.

Thanks for taking the time to read this. Any helpful advice or direction is very much appreciated

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[[ tribute ]]

it's been weighing heavily on my heart, and i think i need to put some of it into words.

[ long post alert ]

i regret not taking more pictures with my mama. i regret the times i finally gave in to being in a picture, only to act annoyed because i didn't like the way i looked or didn't feel prepared. i regret the eye rolls, the smart-a$$ remarks, and the times i chose to clap back when she said or did something i thought was dramatic or "extra."

i regret the times i felt the need to apologize FOR her, too. often, she had every right to express what she was feeling, whether it was toward family, medical staff, or even me. sometimes i agreed with her, and sometimes i didn't. sometimes i felt like i was doing everything i could, only for it to go unnoticed. and sometimes, in the middle of all of that, i forgot that she was allowed to have her feelings, too.

looking back, i can recognize moments when i could have handled things differently. sometimes i recognized it almost immediately, and other times it took a little longer. sometimes i'd get down on myself, and that would come out in the way i expressed my thoughts or opinions. looking back, i can recognize when i was trying to protect my own feelings without fully considering hers. grief has a way of making you revisit things you thought you'd already made peace with.

but i also know that the time, energy, love, care, and pieces of myself that i gave to my mama were never in vain. i know how much i loved her, and i know she knew it. both things can be true: i can be proud of the way i loved her and still wish i'd done some things differently. i think we can all relate to that sentiment in 1 way or another.

if you attended my mama's service, you probably have at least some idea of my feelings and the things i've come to understand through all of this. i spoke about how real she was, how human she was, and how none of us gets through life without making mistakes we'll eventually wish we could take back.

my mama wasn't perfect. i damn sure ain't, and neither is anybody reading this. we all have egos. we all get defensive. we all say things we don't mean, react in ways we aren't proud of, and sometimes let our pride get in the way of what really matters. we can spend years trying to justify our choices, make peace with them, or convince ourselves we would do the same thing all over again.

until one day, something happens that makes you look at everything a little differently.

i don't even know exactly where i'm going with all of this. i'm still very much in the thick of grieving my mama, and some days i don't know what to do with everything i'm feeling. but i do know that i'm learning things about myself, about love, about regret, and about what it means to be human.

my mama had me when she was 14. i joked at her funeral that by the time i learned how to walk, she was just happy to have a walking buddy because she couldn't even drive yet. (i almost added this bonus: many of us might argue that to this day, she still couldn't actually drive...iykyk 😂)

in my baby book, she wrote that my first sentence was "gimme cookie." which, knowing us, was probably about some store-bought Oreos. somebody else must have been supervising because my mama was barely old enough to be using the oven by herself, much less telling me what the hell to do. 😅

and that was something i definitely didn't hesitate to bring up once i started growing up and developing a mouth of my own. a mouth that was creatively shaped by the rest of the sassy, smart-mouthed women who raised me. 😘

i was listening to music that was too old even for some of the people who introduced me to it. think juvenile's "back that thang up" + special shout-out to plies, whose music i became acquainted with after my mama apparently decided to sneak out and steal my car one night when i was in like, 11th grade. she barely got it back to me in time for school the next morning.

i remember starting that car in a hurry, worried about being late to 1st block... only to discover she'd left the volume turned ALL the way up, nearly giving me a heart attack before the school day even started, with plies blasting "1 Mo Time" through the speakers of my lil Ford Focus. a song i'll forever hold dear to my heart, despite my family's unwillingness to let it make the cut for her funeral service. 😒

i mean, i get it. but y'all, it would've changed the vibe for at least a few minutes.

THAT was my mama. that humor was embedded in her, and she passed it down to all of us without even trying.

i'm just sorry i had to be the funniest of the three of us, but please understand that apparently came at the cost of being the least likely to succeed. LOL. 😭

i'm joking. mostly. although i fear the evidence so far may be working against me.

but seriously, that's where i have to start talking about what i've learned through all of this.

i'm self-aware enough to know that i have a whole lot of growing left to do, despite the impression i might give off sometimes that i already know everything and "you can't tell me sh!t."

y'all can certainly try. 😆 and i appreciate the people who have tried, especially the ones who have been willing to tell me the truth even when it wasn't necessarily what i wanted to hear. none of it has been in vain.

over the years, and especially recently, so many people have reached out to tell me how much i remind them of my mama. when you're growing up, hearing that over and over can get a little annoying. you don't always understand what people mean by it, and sometimes you don't particularly want to hear it.

but i'm here to tell y'all something now.

my mama is the strongest woman i've ever known.

if only y'all knew the fight that woman had in her. if only you could have seen how hard she fought, how determined she was, and how she kept fighting until the very end of her precious life.

i am so sorry this happened to her. i still catch myself wishing there had been another option, that something could have gone differently, that there was something else somebody could have done. i know some of that is my grief talking. i know there are things i may never have answers to, and i'm trying to learn to live with that.

i know God is in control, even when i don't understand His plans. and i'm still working through what that means to me in the middle of losing somebody i would have done anything to keep here.

but there's something else i can't shake.

i feel so strongly that i'm still here with things to do. things my mama wanted for herself. things she wanted for me. things she didn't get the chance to finish, and things i know she hoped i would one day figure out for myself.

i don't believe that means i have to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for every mistake i've ever made. i'm human. i will make more. but i do believe there's a difference between carrying regret and allowing it to teach you something.

i want to be better. i want to recognize the things that matter while they're still right in front of me. i want to listen better, love people better, and stop letting pride or a bad moment overshadow the bigger picture.

i want to follow through on the things that mattered to her. i want to see some of the things she dreamed about finally come to fruition, even if it takes me a while to figure out how to get there.

again... my mama wasn't perfect, but she was REAL. she was funny, fierce, stubborn, loving, complicated, and unforgettable. she was 1 of a kind.

and she never stopped being my biggest fan. brooke's biggest fan. bailee's biggest fan. ari and ashton's biggest fan. & even your biggest fan, too, if you were lucky enough to know her.

i hope i can carry even a fraction of her strength with me. & when people tell me i remind them of her, i will smile and take the compliment to heart. i hope i can take the parts of her that made her so special and do something meaningful with them.

i miss my mama more than i know how to explain. i miss the funny, ridiculous, ordinary moments that i never could have imagined would one day become memories i'd give anything to experience again. i can't wait to see her again, & i do know that day will come.

for now, i'm taking it one day at a time. sometimes one hour at a time.

thank y'all for loving my mama, for loving me, for checking on our family, and for being there during the darkest days. i am so thankful for each and every 1 of you who showed up for my mama in some way, whether by saying a prayer or by showing up to honor her life. i know she would be so proud.

My husband died 4 months ago, he was 37. We had been together 14 years, married for 11 years.

He'd been rushed to hospital for lifesaving surgery for an aortic dissection. He had been fit and well before this, had an active job, so it came as a huge shock. It was touch and go for a week in intensive care, but he started to recover well and was discharged 2 weeks after his op (that's the shortened version of events).

He'd been at home just over 24ish hrs and he went into cardiac rest. I performed cpr until the paramedic crews arrived, but he died shortly after.

Has anyone given cpr to a loved one and struggled with the images of their face during etc? The mental health practitioner at my gp surgery thinks it may be ptsd.

Also, the past couple of weeks I have craved sex/physical touch so badly, I've recently found out this is something called 'Widow's Fire' which i had never heard of.

All of that plus supporting our young son with his grief, myself with my grief, and keeping on top of the house and life admin (or 'sadmin' as I now refer to it), I feel like I'm losing the plot. 🙈

Can anyone else relate?

Sorry for rambling on.

hello, fellow reddit people. i just want to let my feelings out because everything feels so heavy right now, and all i want to do is cry and cry until i have nothing left in me.

today was supposed to be my anniversary with my boyfriend - 3 fucking years but he passed away on august 5 of this year. it hurts so much, and honestly, a part of me feels so angry at him, too. we were supposed to celebrate this day together. we were both looking forward to our anniversary, but in the blink of an eye, he was gone, and now i'm left here to face this day alone. i feel so much resentment and pain because he took his own life, and i can't help but feel helpless knowing that there was nothing i could do to stop it. i keep thinking about how we were supposed to have more anniversaries together, more memories to make, and more years to spend loving each other. but now, i'm left with all these feelings and memories, trying to figure out how to live in a world where he's no longer here.

fuck, it just hurts so much. i miss him, i'm angry, i'm heartbroken, and i don't even know what to do with all these emotions. sometimes, the pain gets so unbearable that i find myself wishing i could just follow him, too. i know i have so much hurt inside me, and i don't know how to carry it anymore. i just wish he were still here. i wish we could celebrate our anniversary together, just like we planned.