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PoisonGirrrl · 31-35, F
I'm not sure if I dealt with my losses.
Time passes, but the pain is still there. You miss the person, you think how things would be different if the person was alive.
Even if it happened a long time ago, the memories stay and sometimes it hurts in different intensities, but we learn how to live without the person and this is how we should think to keep going and trying to accept something so painful.
Time passes, but the pain is still there. You miss the person, you think how things would be different if the person was alive.
Even if it happened a long time ago, the memories stay and sometimes it hurts in different intensities, but we learn how to live without the person and this is how we should think to keep going and trying to accept something so painful.
juiceyangel333 · 31-35, F
Eddiesolds · 61-69, M
I cry alot, stay in bed and wish I'd die.
Aidan · 26-30
Hasn't happened yet wouldn't know
BlueRain · F
Time. The loss never goes away.
swirlie · 31-35, F
The hardest part for me, was watching the sun get closer to the horizon at sunset on the day that my loved one was interred on a hill at the cemetery. As it began to get dark early in the month of December on that fateful day, I suddenly began having an anxiety attack while in my home. I dropped what I was doing and I raced back to the cemetery before dark, which was only a mere 6 hours after I had witnessed the casket being lowered into the ground. I stood there as the sun disappeared at 5pm and couldn't bare the thought of leaving that person out there all by themselves as day turned into night. I went back home but was awake all night. I arrived back at the cemetery at sunrise before the groundskeepers showed up for work. I was totally irrational, at best.
Ironically today, another day in December but 4 years later, I sat at a traffic light in front of a cemetery in late afternoon as I observed a family driving away from a grave, leaving the empty hearse standing guard on an oak casket which was obviously placed above it's own grave.
I pulled off to the side and watched through the fence as the burial crew worked alone and the casket of this unknown individual was lowered silently into the ground. Then a load of topsoil was dumped into the rectangular grave, the topsoil was leveled with rakes and the crew quickly drove their tractor back to the shed in time for quitting time.
The time was 4:55pm, the sun once again was sitting on the horizon. Without really thinking, I drove into the cemetery needing the aid of my headlights, pulling up to the freshly backfilled grave with not another car in sight. No family, no friends, nobody but me. I got out of my car and stood there by this fellow's grave as the sun disappeared below the horizon. I did not feel anxious but I did somehow feel a sense of responsibility to indoctrinate this unknown fellow on his very first night of Eternal camping.
There was a small photo of him lying near the flowers adjacent to his grave. He was 36 years old, had a wife and 3 pre-school children. His wife and kids were not there, just me, yet I never even knew this guy. I felt like I was with him though as the sun went down after everyone had just dropped him off an hour earlier and went home to grieve. Just as irrational this time? Perhaps.
Ironically today, another day in December but 4 years later, I sat at a traffic light in front of a cemetery in late afternoon as I observed a family driving away from a grave, leaving the empty hearse standing guard on an oak casket which was obviously placed above it's own grave.
I pulled off to the side and watched through the fence as the burial crew worked alone and the casket of this unknown individual was lowered silently into the ground. Then a load of topsoil was dumped into the rectangular grave, the topsoil was leveled with rakes and the crew quickly drove their tractor back to the shed in time for quitting time.
The time was 4:55pm, the sun once again was sitting on the horizon. Without really thinking, I drove into the cemetery needing the aid of my headlights, pulling up to the freshly backfilled grave with not another car in sight. No family, no friends, nobody but me. I got out of my car and stood there by this fellow's grave as the sun disappeared below the horizon. I did not feel anxious but I did somehow feel a sense of responsibility to indoctrinate this unknown fellow on his very first night of Eternal camping.
There was a small photo of him lying near the flowers adjacent to his grave. He was 36 years old, had a wife and 3 pre-school children. His wife and kids were not there, just me, yet I never even knew this guy. I felt like I was with him though as the sun went down after everyone had just dropped him off an hour earlier and went home to grieve. Just as irrational this time? Perhaps.