Reality, not in imagination....

"What grounds has it given me for doubting all that I believe? I knew already that these things, and worse, happened daily. I would have said that I had taken them into account. I had been warned—I had warned myself—not to reckon on worldly happiness. We were even promised sufferings. They were part of the programme. We were even told, ‘Blessed are they that mourn,’ and I accepted it. I’ve got nothing that I hadn’t bargained for. Of course it is different when the thing happens to oneself, not to others, and in reality, not in imagination." from "A Grief Observed" by C. S. Lewis, Madeleine L'Engle

Serious illness....

"Bereavement is like a serious illness. One dies or one survives, and the medicine is time, not a change of scene." from "The Mistletoe Murder: And Other Stories" by P. D. James

Listen....

It's amazing all the the little things you miss.  A smile, a look -- it's just empty.  I can't imagine missing someone more.  Intellectually, I know to loose Bill -- my partner or the unimaginable loss of a child....I can believe those losses would be even more overwhelming than the loss of my dad....but still.  I wish I would have listened more.  I wish I would have asked more....I miss his wisdom so much.  I miss his love and approval.   I think I spent a lot of time trying to prove I didn't need him, just so he could be proud of me.  Does that seem weird or backwards?  I needed him....because I didn't need him.  Ha.  Talk about a twist.  Maybe not.  I would think we as parents want our children to succeed on their own.  I know my dad wanted that for me.  And for the most part I think I did do okay....although I still feel like I flounder on an hourly basis.  But I may have paid a price of giving up too much by trying to prove I could do it myself.  Times that I could have gotten advice....times I should have asked and then been still until I could hear what he had to tell me.  Which....ironic as it might seem -- what would he tell me....Listen.

Rearranged

"I can't believe she's gone," said Hazel, sitting down as though her legs had given way.  Loss was like that, Gamache knew.  You didn't just lose a loved one.  You lost your heart, your memories, your laughter, your brain and it even took your bones.  Eventually it all came back, but different. Rearranged.

The Cruelest Month by Louise Penny