Quotes About Loss

The death of my child was the death of my own heart.

It's no different from losing a loved one," he said. "You grieve, but then you have no choice but to go on living your life. You find a way to be happy again. It's not impossible. You just have to decide when you're ready to accept that they're gone.

And you panic just a little, wishing for one more chance at all the beautiful moments you didn't appreciate, or for one more day with the person you didn't love quite enough.

Standing there with him now felt like I was experiencing another death. Somehow, I had to find a way to say good-bye to him and to all of this—to bury our history deep in the ground. I reminded myself that it was impossible to go back. We weren't the same people we once were,

contemplated suicide. Part of the reason was because I didn't want to go on living without my sweet baby boy. I missed him terribly and my guilt was beyond excruciating. It was the worst kind of torture imaginable. I just wanted to end my suffering.

I hated her for leaving us. I hated her. I hated her most for leaving me with Dad.

but I don't know if peace is ever possible when you've lost a child." His words caused a swell of sadness in me because I knew he was right. I'd never stop missing my beautiful son. Not in this lifetime.

My heart pounds like a jackhammer, and I can't find the right words. All I can think about is what if both Alan and I had been killed. Zack's an only child. He would have been left all alone.

It was difficult to believe that twenty-four hours ago, my life had seemed almost perfect. I had been in love with an amazing man, and I had thought I was about to become engaged—that we would start a family together, and I'd be happy at last. But maybe I wasn't meant to be happy. Or to be a mother. Maybe the universe was just teasing me, letting me float briefly up to the clouds to enjoy the view from there, only to slam me back down to earth and rub my face in the dirt.

How long, I wondered, did we need to cling to the things that belonged to our lost loved ones? Were "things" what really mattered? It was just stuff.

How long, I wondered, did we need to cling to the things that belonged to our lost loved ones? Were "things" what really mattered? It was just stuff. The value, I supposed, was that it helped me to remember details. But there was nothing concrete about a memory. Memories—and love—exist in our hearts and minds and souls. That love travels with us wherever we go.

Mandy tidied the weeds and pulled out some of the summer flowers. It saddened her to do so. She was parting with beloved friends.

Most of all I'm mad at Swanee for dying and taking from me the most precious thing I ever owned. I didn't own her, but she was mine. Mine, Liana. Do you hear me?

I broke his heart though! When I refused to stay in his selfish New World, his stone heart broke into pieces!"..."I know it did because when he said good-bye, a splinter flew from his heart and pierced my own. And it's still there. I still feel it.

He's dead, Jim,

Your trying to take them away from me, and I can't let you do that.I'm not ready to let go." "Exactly what am I taking away?" "My family." "Brenna..." She wouldn't let him continue. "You are trying to take them away, aren't you? And if you succeed, what will I have left?" "Me.

Then the sun would sink a little, feathering lightly into the surface of the water, and Grandma and I would climb back in the car and go off and get in a car wreck.

A very wise dog woman once told me that dogs find owners, not the other way around. They pick you and they choose to stay with you. In that way, they are also giving you the end of their life. The deeper the bond, the harder it is to say good-bye. I know I'd rather have any amount of time with a dog I love and suffer the mourning than not have the time at all.

People say time heals wounds, but they are wrong. It doesn't heal at all. You just learn to live with it. When she died, we lost a part of our hearts.

We lost weight and grew thin. We stopped bleeding. We stopped dreaming. We stopped wanting.

She remembers that she is forgetting. She remembers less and less every day.

We forgot about Buddha. We forgot about God. We developed a coldness inside us that still has not thawed. I fear my soul has died. We stopped writing home to our mothers. We lost weight and grew thin. We stopped bleeding. We stopped dreaming. We stopped wanting.?

Or maybe, it's just gone. Sometimes things disappear and there's no getting them back. That's just how it is.

That's what it's all about–knowing what you have to lose, but risking the loss anyway.