Loving & Losing Brendan: A Very Public Grief: 2018-09-23

This reminds of Brendan. And from hearing stories about his life from friends and family,

I feel like all would collectively agree with me if they saw this meme.

Poem: "Don't Tell Me"

A Grief Poem by Becky Horton Neighbors

Don’t ask me what’s wrong
I can’t tell you

Don’t tell me I need to look for joy
Trust me, I am grasping at every moment of joy I can

Don’t tell me I need to have more faith
Faith is what has gotten me to this point

Don’t tell me I am not praying hard enough
Prayer is what keeps me going

Don’t tell me I should be getting better by now
It just makes me feel like I am doing something wrong

Don’t tell me anything, instead, just walk with me
Hold my hand
Hug my pieces back together
Love me through this until my joy returns

Feather Collection......

Brendan, I don't believe in a God that looks like us; a God that is usually described in most religions. However, I am part of an online Grief Group called "Modern Loss". Someone posted this and I really loved it...........

"Coincidences are God's way of remaining anonymous."

I thought I'd post the feather collection that sits on my office desk. Thank you for collecting all of these feathers for me.

...Every Moment Of It Had More Meaning Than You Dared To Recognize

“Grief can destroy you --or focus you. You can decide a relationship was all for nothing if it had to end in death, and you alone. OR you can realize that every moment of it had more meaning than you dared to recognize at the time, so much meaning it scared you, so you just lived, just took for granted the love and laughter of each day, and didn't allow yourself to consider the sacredness of it. But when it's over and you're alone, you begin to see that it wasn't just a movie and a dinner together, not just watching sunsets together, not just scrubbing a floor or washing dishes together or worrying over a high electric bill. It was everything, it was the why of life, every event and precious moment of it. The answer to the mystery of existence is the love you shared sometimes so imperfectly, and when the loss wakes you to the deeper beauty of it, to the sanctity of it, you can't get off your knees for a long time, you're driven to your knees not by the weight of the loss but by gratitude for what preceded the loss. And the ache is always there, but one day not the emptiness, because to nurture the emptiness, to take solace in it, is to disrespect the gift of life.”

― Dean Koontz, Odd Hours

The Worst Type of Crying....

“The worst type of crying wasn't the kind everyone could see--the wailing on street corners, the tearing at clothes. No, the worst kind happened when your soul wept and no matter what you did, there was no way to comfort it. A section withered and became a scar on the part of your soul that survived. For people like me and Echo, our souls contained more scar tissue than life.”
― Katie McGarry, 'Pushing the Limits'