There’s this place in me where your fingerprints still rest, your kisses still linger and your whispers softly echo. It’s the place where a part of you will forever be a part of me.
Deep grief sometimes is almost like a specific location, a coordinate on a map of time. When you are standing in that forest of sorrow, you cannot imagine that you could ever find your way to a better place. But if someone can assure you that they themselves have stood in that same place, and now have moved on, sometimes this will bring hope.
Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.
You can’t stay in your corner of the forest, waiting for others to come to you; you have to go to them sometimes.
Your life was a blessing, your memory a treasure. You are loved beyond words and missed beyond measure.
I existed from all eternity and, behold, I am here; and I shall exist till the end of time, for my being has no end.
Grief is a process, not a state.
When we walk to the edge of all the light we have and take the step into the darkness of the unknown, we must believe that one of two things will happen. There will be something to stand on or we will be taught to fly.
You can’t sit around and wait for the storm to be over. You’ve got to learn how to dance in the rain.
If you’re going through hell, keep going.
The hope that is left after all your hopes are gone — that is pure hope, rooted in the heart.
Grief shared is grief diminished.
There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief… and unspeakable love.
Quiet and sincere sympathy is often the most welcome and efficient consolation to the afflicted. Said a wise man to one in deep sorrow, ‘I did not come to comfort you; God only can do that; but I did come to say how deeply and tenderly I feel for you in your affliction.
Mourning is one of the most profound human experiences that it is possible to have… The deep capacity to weep for the loss of a loved one and to continue to treasure the memory of that loss is one of our noblest human traits.
The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief — But the pain of grief is only a shadow when compared with the pain of never risking love.
When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.
You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present.
Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow.
Time is a physician that heals every grief.