My dog. I lost her when I was 14. It’s been 10 years, and I still cry on the anniversary of her death. I got another dog shortly after she passed, a little tiny puppy that was with me through it all in her absence. He helped me grieve her. He died of cancer about a week ago.
I don’t think their absence will ever not hurt in the quiet moments. I’d give anything to give the both of them another kiss on the snout.
My soul dog. She was everything to me. Before I was medicated for my schizophrenia, she would sit with me during my episodes while I would shake and cry from my hallucinations and delusions- which could last for 3 days straight because I was afraid to sleep. She was everything to me and I swear that something in me died when I lost her to cancer.
I try to see her death as her victory, as she was a puppy mill mom that survived literal hell. She finally got to be at peace. Sure I spoiled her rotten, she got sushi, pup cups, I meal prepped all her food, all kinds of stuff, but finally being at peace and being able to let go of all her pain that she had from her time as a mill dog? Unmatched.
My soul kitty. She was 14, almost 15. Cancer sucks, she didn’t deserve to go, she loved everyone and loved to play and cuddle. I was her favorite human, she was my only kitty.
The love of my life, the future I had laid out. I found out two days ago that he took another woman on a first date May 3rd, he dumped me later that night. He’s already met her family, asked her to be official, told her he loves her. I know I wasn’t the love of his life obviously. Logically I understand that. My heart hasn’t caught up yet. I know it will get better, maybe I’ll meet someone else. But when my work projects are finished, or when the kids are playing by themselves, when the chores are done, when I lay down at night and there’s nothing to distract me I can’t help but feel robbed. I think about the way he used to look at me, all the plans we had for our life together, the five hour FaceTimes, the way we used to tell each other about all the little silly things in our days, sitting on the front porch at night and sharing the deepest and darkest parts of ourselves. We were so entwined that I feel like I lost a part of myself. It’s so jarring that he could turn it all off, shut me out so completely.
The opportunities of youth… like having children and being young enough to “try again” with someone you absolutely KNOW would be the perfect father and husband.
I have 2 wonderful children with an absolute asshole of an abusive man who I’ve wasted way too many years on… and at age 44 I’ve met the man who I dearly, dearly wish I would have made all these experiences with instead, and built a life together with. The realization that I will NEVER have a child with him… or the excitement of having a whole life ahead together, building a home, building a family… hurts so, so badly.
I am happy with my life but I miss my joy that I had when I was a kid or a teenager. My goals, my expectations from myself, my desire to dream. I don’t know what happened to me. oh boy writing these down hit me hard, broke my heart. I want to hug myself I guess
I was always around my grandmother my entire life. Called her or went to her when I needed to vent, tell her about my accomplishments, talk, gossip, get advice…etc. We from two different periods of time which moulded our view on certain things which meant we had different views about certain things but respected each other.
When she died, realizing that I couldn’t reach out to her was hard. No one was able to fill that void. It’s 3 years later and I still cry when I think about the loss.
The earrings my mother-in-law gave me. She gave them to me when I was 27. I was able to keep them until I was about 35 at 35 I put them in a piece of tissue and thought I had put them down in my pocketbook, but they were not there.That was the last thing she gave me before she passed. My heart aches every day for those earrings.
He passed last year pretty suddenly and I try to take a lot of comfort in the fact that my mom and all her siblings were with him when he went. And I was incredibly fortunate to be able to speak with him on the phone about an hour before he passed and told him how much I loved him.
He was incredibly dear to me. A great example of gentleman, a loving father and a devoted husband to gran. He had a life led with lots of adventure and was a gifted story teller.
During COVID, I moved back in with my parents and I spent a lot of time visiting with him and I take a ton of comfort in the fact that not a lot of people get that kind of opportunity to spend time as an adult in their 30s with their grandparent. To get to know them and their stories deeply and to have a lot of laughs.
My father. He passed last August and the grief is getting better but it unleashes when I’m alone. I never realized how much I’ve been holding in until I’ve been alone more lately. I cry when I’m alone, sometimes I don’t even realize why, and then it hits me.
My grandmother-in-law. Other than my husband, I felt that she was the only person on his side of the family who genuinely cared about me. She was the life of the party, had the funniest stories, was sweet and a tough cookie, given how much she has been through. She passed a few years ago and there are moments when I think “I wish Grammie was here so I can tell her about (insert topic).”
My friend. We met at such a pivotal time in our lives and I just knew she was going to be important to me. She was 10 years older than me so we were like sisters and best friends and she was also the mom I never had. She struggled with addiction and homelessness and living as a trans woman in a red state wasn’t easy.
But she was so strong and smart and funny. She took in everyone any time she had a place of her own. No questions asked. She truly believed in taking care of others in a way that I can’t fully articulate but I really do try to replicate now in her memory.
She died 3 years ago, she had heart surgery and never woke up. I miss her so much it physically aches, all the time. I love you Leona. I know that where ever you are you miss me too.
My best friend. He passed away a few years ago and at first it was constant pain. Now it’s just moments when I’m alone and it’s quiet I’ll cry and think of how much I wish I could talk to him.
She worked at the same place as me and soon enough, I became really attached. I was like 15 and she was 22. She was just so cool and she really was like a big sister to me. She knew all of my secrets and I came to her for advice or just petty complaining. Looking back on it now, I probably annoyed the shit out of her. When I was 18, she left for the military and I remember how torn up I was. I cried for days and sure she came to visit but every visit felt weirder and weirder because it had been so long since we had seen each other. Now, I’m engaged to her brother (complete coincidence) and every time I see her, I sort of mourn what our relationship was like. I only see her for like 2 days out of the year but whenever I need advice, she’s still the first person I wanna ask.
My body image. I was always in good shape and when I stopped BC to get pregnant I gained weight. I recently gave birth and I’m so happy to be a mom, but it’s now a struggle to find clothes that fit without accentuating the parts is my body that I hate right now.
It also doesn’t help that I have a MIL who literally thinks everyone is fat, and loves to point it out on me.
First there are the people, especially my Mother who died far too young of breast cancer, and also the babes of my womb who did not live to birth.
For me personally, I miss my mind and my body as they were before I was struck down with M.E. This has meant I’ve lost the ability to wander in the countyside, especially the woods and I miss them with an ache that sometimes makes it so hard to be fully grateful of my life.
Chronic illness, has for me, been an endless journey of letting go, of loss and, of course, grief.
It has also been the most deeply spiritual journey into my own understanding of life, of love, and of deepening gratitude. The dark and the light, both growing like deep pools within me.
My first baby a few months ago. My body couldn’t cope with pregnancy (chronic health issues) I’ll always wonder what it could have been like if it worked out.
I lost the most pure, sweet soul when my 17 year old Persian cat, Knox, passed away.
She was my daughter’s best friend and soul mate.
When our life blew up and my heart was broken and we were struggling, Knox would go to sleep when my daughter did. She would let my kiddo cry into her soft fur and be held. Once she was sure my daughter was asleep, she’d make her way downstairs to me and she’d sit on my chest and purr, like she was trying to heal my heart, and would hold my face with her paws.
She was the glue that held us together and she did SO much for us. We loved her with everything we had and losing her has been agony.
It’s been nearly a year and her absence still hurts.
I inherited my great-grandmothers dollhouse. I was her only granddaughter and I loved it so much. One day, I let my brothers (who were old enough to know better) play with it and they destroyed it. They broke the roof, the dollhouse bed was in splinters, they pulled apart the dolls. I still have the dollhouse and managed to save and fix some of the things, but every time I look at it, I also see all the things that are missing. My grandmother made everything that was in it. It was so beautiful and now it is a shell. I’ve considered fixing it up, but it feels kind of wrong somehow. Like if I replace things that are torn or broken, I’m losing the little bit of her that is left.
My freedom. I swear in my teen years I was promised an adulthood of independence. Now I’m epileptic, and I’m forced to rely on other people (including my parents) constantly as an adult. Sometimes when it’s quiet, I can’t help but feel robbed.
Letters in the mailbox – My mom started writing long letters to me when we got married, and kept writing them until her death in 2017. Sometimes the empty mailbox just stings.
The empty space by my side where my Merrie slept for 17 years. Princess Ninja Merriweather was a special girl, so brave and spunky in her last years, and I miss her so.
A job I once had, which had me looking at my career and my future in a whole new exciting light. Things changed there, my life changed, but I miss that excitement.
Not the first/only to say this, but most recently, my soul dog. He was there for me during some really hard/challenging times, like losing my dad and grandma, multiple moves, and becoming a mom with his quiet, steady presence and understanding of me that seemed to exceed what people are capable of. This is the kind of thing he’d help me through, but he’s not here. I still miss the sound of his nails on the floor and the jingling of his tags that announced his arrival into a room, how he never wanted me to go to the bathroom unattended, and his big, soulful eyes peeking around a corner to find me if he didn’t know where I was.
And it’s been longer so the pain isn’t as sharp anymore, but as far as people go, my dad and grandma. They were both my rock that kept me steady, and sometimes I hate navigating life without them. There’s still so many times I wish they were still here.
My mom. It’s been 11 years. We lost her just as I was becoming an adult, and I feel so robbed of the time I could have really, truly gotten to know her on an adult level. She’s missed marriages, grandkids, and other life events and the lack of day to day engagement in family life. And worst of all, I know that’s what SHE was so sad about losing as she was dying of cancer. She would be a wonderful grandmother, and she didn’t get it. I was truly lucky to have her as my mom and I didn’t appreciate her enough when she was here. Hug your mom’s folks (if they are deserving of it of course).
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My parents and one of my best friends.
My puppy Butter and my grandma.
My dog. I lost her when I was 14. It’s been 10 years, and I still cry on the anniversary of her death. I got another dog shortly after she passed, a little tiny puppy that was with me through it all in her absence. He helped me grieve her. He died of cancer about a week ago.
I don’t think their absence will ever not hurt in the quiet moments. I’d give anything to give the both of them another kiss on the snout.
A lot of beloved pets.
My sanity
My soul dog. She was everything to me. Before I was medicated for my schizophrenia, she would sit with me during my episodes while I would shake and cry from my hallucinations and delusions- which could last for 3 days straight because I was afraid to sleep. She was everything to me and I swear that something in me died when I lost her to cancer.
I try to see her death as her victory, as she was a puppy mill mom that survived literal hell. She finally got to be at peace. Sure I spoiled her rotten, she got sushi, pup cups, I meal prepped all her food, all kinds of stuff, but finally being at peace and being able to let go of all her pain that she had from her time as a mill dog? Unmatched.
my job
My father and my brother
My confidence.
In the last year… my best friend (his wife banned him from talking to me), my mum (passed from cancer), my boyfriend (r’ship ended), and my job.
I think about my favorite cat all the time.
My first orange cat Bella. May she continue resting in peace. She was our companion for ten years and mothered 15 kittens.
Hope for the future. I should be in my second trimester and thinking of names. Instead, I’m just trying to push through a day at a time.
My cat of 13 years.
My dogs I had a few years ago
My dad.
My youth
My soul kitty. She was 14, almost 15. Cancer sucks, she didn’t deserve to go, she loved everyone and loved to play and cuddle. I was her favorite human, she was my only kitty.
The love of my life, the future I had laid out. I found out two days ago that he took another woman on a first date May 3rd, he dumped me later that night. He’s already met her family, asked her to be official, told her he loves her. I know I wasn’t the love of his life obviously. Logically I understand that. My heart hasn’t caught up yet. I know it will get better, maybe I’ll meet someone else. But when my work projects are finished, or when the kids are playing by themselves, when the chores are done, when I lay down at night and there’s nothing to distract me I can’t help but feel robbed. I think about the way he used to look at me, all the plans we had for our life together, the five hour FaceTimes, the way we used to tell each other about all the little silly things in our days, sitting on the front porch at night and sharing the deepest and darkest parts of ourselves. We were so entwined that I feel like I lost a part of myself. It’s so jarring that he could turn it all off, shut me out so completely.
My innocence at such a young age (7). I often wonder what I’d have been like if I’d grown up carefree and without ptsd/trauma.
The opportunities of youth… like having children and being young enough to “try again” with someone you absolutely KNOW would be the perfect father and husband.
I have 2 wonderful children with an absolute asshole of an abusive man who I’ve wasted way too many years on… and at age 44 I’ve met the man who I dearly, dearly wish I would have made all these experiences with instead, and built a life together with. The realization that I will NEVER have a child with him… or the excitement of having a whole life ahead together, building a home, building a family… hurts so, so badly.
Wasted time
I am happy with my life but I miss my joy that I had when I was a kid or a teenager. My goals, my expectations from myself, my desire to dream. I don’t know what happened to me. oh boy writing these down hit me hard, broke my heart. I want to hug myself I guess
Not being able to call my grandmother anymore
I was always around my grandmother my entire life. Called her or went to her when I needed to vent, tell her about my accomplishments, talk, gossip, get advice…etc. We from two different periods of time which moulded our view on certain things which meant we had different views about certain things but respected each other.
When she died, realizing that I couldn’t reach out to her was hard. No one was able to fill that void. It’s 3 years later and I still cry when I think about the loss.
The earrings my mother-in-law gave me. She gave them to me when I was 27. I was able to keep them until I was about 35 at 35 I put them in a piece of tissue and thought I had put them down in my pocketbook, but they were not there.That was the last thing she gave me before she passed. My heart aches every day for those earrings.
My Papa.
He passed last year pretty suddenly and I try to take a lot of comfort in the fact that my mom and all her siblings were with him when he went. And I was incredibly fortunate to be able to speak with him on the phone about an hour before he passed and told him how much I loved him.
He was incredibly dear to me. A great example of gentleman, a loving father and a devoted husband to gran. He had a life led with lots of adventure and was a gifted story teller.
During COVID, I moved back in with my parents and I spent a lot of time visiting with him and I take a ton of comfort in the fact that not a lot of people get that kind of opportunity to spend time as an adult in their 30s with their grandparent. To get to know them and their stories deeply and to have a lot of laughs.
My mother. Died when I was 9. Even though I’ve gotten over it I just wonder how life would be with her still around.
I lose my will to live long ago. Being alone in my own thoughts is deafening, like shock therapy.
In the quiet moments the urge to shut it off is a dull, ever-present ache.
My father. He passed last August and the grief is getting better but it unleashes when I’m alone. I never realized how much I’ve been holding in until I’ve been alone more lately. I cry when I’m alone, sometimes I don’t even realize why, and then it hits me.
my late husband
My grandmother-in-law. Other than my husband, I felt that she was the only person on his side of the family who genuinely cared about me. She was the life of the party, had the funniest stories, was sweet and a tough cookie, given how much she has been through. She passed a few years ago and there are moments when I think “I wish Grammie was here so I can tell her about (insert topic).”
My parents. I was 13.
My friend. We met at such a pivotal time in our lives and I just knew she was going to be important to me. She was 10 years older than me so we were like sisters and best friends and she was also the mom I never had. She struggled with addiction and homelessness and living as a trans woman in a red state wasn’t easy.
But she was so strong and smart and funny. She took in everyone any time she had a place of her own. No questions asked. She truly believed in taking care of others in a way that I can’t fully articulate but I really do try to replicate now in her memory.
She died 3 years ago, she had heart surgery and never woke up. I miss her so much it physically aches, all the time. I love you Leona. I know that where ever you are you miss me too.
My best friend. He passed away a few years ago and at first it was constant pain. Now it’s just moments when I’m alone and it’s quiet I’ll cry and think of how much I wish I could talk to him.
My last slice of pizza still hurts, but at least I don’t have to share!
My “older sister”.
She worked at the same place as me and soon enough, I became really attached. I was like 15 and she was 22. She was just so cool and she really was like a big sister to me. She knew all of my secrets and I came to her for advice or just petty complaining. Looking back on it now, I probably annoyed the shit out of her. When I was 18, she left for the military and I remember how torn up I was. I cried for days and sure she came to visit but every visit felt weirder and weirder because it had been so long since we had seen each other. Now, I’m engaged to her brother (complete coincidence) and every time I see her, I sort of mourn what our relationship was like. I only see her for like 2 days out of the year but whenever I need advice, she’s still the first person I wanna ask.
My dad.
My body image. I was always in good shape and when I stopped BC to get pregnant I gained weight. I recently gave birth and I’m so happy to be a mom, but it’s now a struggle to find clothes that fit without accentuating the parts is my body that I hate right now.
It also doesn’t help that I have a MIL who literally thinks everyone is fat, and loves to point it out on me.
Dad, mom, uncle, grandpa, etc. Mom more recent than the others
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A beautiful lavender bead necklace I bought in Hawaii.
First there are the people, especially my Mother who died far too young of breast cancer, and also the babes of my womb who did not live to birth.
For me personally, I miss my mind and my body as they were before I was struck down with M.E. This has meant I’ve lost the ability to wander in the countyside, especially the woods and I miss them with an ache that sometimes makes it so hard to be fully grateful of my life.
Chronic illness, has for me, been an endless journey of letting go, of loss and, of course, grief.
It has also been the most deeply spiritual journey into my own understanding of life, of love, and of deepening gratitude. The dark and the light, both growing like deep pools within me.
My first baby a few months ago. My body couldn’t cope with pregnancy (chronic health issues) I’ll always wonder what it could have been like if it worked out.
I lost the most pure, sweet soul when my 17 year old Persian cat, Knox, passed away.
She was my daughter’s best friend and soul mate.
When our life blew up and my heart was broken and we were struggling, Knox would go to sleep when my daughter did. She would let my kiddo cry into her soft fur and be held. Once she was sure my daughter was asleep, she’d make her way downstairs to me and she’d sit on my chest and purr, like she was trying to heal my heart, and would hold my face with her paws.
She was the glue that held us together and she did SO much for us. We loved her with everything we had and losing her has been agony.
It’s been nearly a year and her absence still hurts.
My 4Runner. Hate that I had to trade it in.
My grandma. I don’t think I will ever be able to get over her death. It’s been over 4 years.
I inherited my great-grandmothers dollhouse. I was her only granddaughter and I loved it so much. One day, I let my brothers (who were old enough to know better) play with it and they destroyed it. They broke the roof, the dollhouse bed was in splinters, they pulled apart the dolls. I still have the dollhouse and managed to save and fix some of the things, but every time I look at it, I also see all the things that are missing. My grandmother made everything that was in it. It was so beautiful and now it is a shell. I’ve considered fixing it up, but it feels kind of wrong somehow. Like if I replace things that are torn or broken, I’m losing the little bit of her that is left.
My brain, pre-injury.
My best friend (passed two years ago suddenly), my marriage, my grandmother, my dogs
My optimism for life
My freedom. I swear in my teen years I was promised an adulthood of independence. Now I’m epileptic, and I’m forced to rely on other people (including my parents) constantly as an adult. Sometimes when it’s quiet, I can’t help but feel robbed.
My dog. I lost him 2 years ago and I’m still so far from OK about it. My bones hurt from the grief
Letters in the mailbox – My mom started writing long letters to me when we got married, and kept writing them until her death in 2017. Sometimes the empty mailbox just stings.
The empty space by my side where my Merrie slept for 17 years. Princess Ninja Merriweather was a special girl, so brave and spunky in her last years, and I miss her so.
A job I once had, which had me looking at my career and my future in a whole new exciting light. Things changed there, my life changed, but I miss that excitement.
My inner child. Pushed her down so much for the sake of others, only to later take years of healing to bring her out and make her feel acknowledged.
My marriage
Set an alarm to bid on a set of rare, out of print vintage crochet magazines. The bidding started at 12:30 pm… i set my alarm for 12:30 am
Still cant move on from it
My mom. She was killed in a farm accident 18 years ago. It still hurts she was never able to be a grandma, and she would have made a great one.
The faith and ability to be able to trust men for being good and normal partners.
My old pup
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Not the first/only to say this, but most recently, my soul dog. He was there for me during some really hard/challenging times, like losing my dad and grandma, multiple moves, and becoming a mom with his quiet, steady presence and understanding of me that seemed to exceed what people are capable of. This is the kind of thing he’d help me through, but he’s not here. I still miss the sound of his nails on the floor and the jingling of his tags that announced his arrival into a room, how he never wanted me to go to the bathroom unattended, and his big, soulful eyes peeking around a corner to find me if he didn’t know where I was.
And it’s been longer so the pain isn’t as sharp anymore, but as far as people go, my dad and grandma. They were both my rock that kept me steady, and sometimes I hate navigating life without them. There’s still so many times I wish they were still here.
My mom. It’s been 11 years. We lost her just as I was becoming an adult, and I feel so robbed of the time I could have really, truly gotten to know her on an adult level. She’s missed marriages, grandkids, and other life events and the lack of day to day engagement in family life. And worst of all, I know that’s what SHE was so sad about losing as she was dying of cancer. She would be a wonderful grandmother, and she didn’t get it. I was truly lucky to have her as my mom and I didn’t appreciate her enough when she was here. Hug your mom’s folks (if they are deserving of it of course).
my dad