One day when I’m gone I hope my grandchildren will love to visit this place to see what an amazing person their uncle Billy was and my Maggie to know her fathers heart beats forever in hers. How lucky she is to have his qualities. He loved her with all of his heart and soul.

Humble and kind

Always be……………

Be gentle with that tender heart of yours.

It may be holding a years worth of grief inside it.

Be caring with all those parts of you that feel life’s tender moments, childhood pains and unmet emotions.

Take yourself out into the gathering light and breathe a bright ember into the very centre of you, into your hearts red soft middle, holding yourself in love and warmth.

Wake your heart slowly, allowing it all to be felt, allowing yourself to create space in which to rest and to breathe.

Let the coming light light up your bones and remind you of the gold that is held deep within you.

•art by Wendy Andrew•
•words by Brigit Anna McNeill•

If Grief Could Speak, Here Are Five Things It Would Say

I am not a sickness, I am grief. I am a valid experience and emotion and there is

No right way to hold me. There is just your way. No two people receive me the same way. Let’s find our own way to dance together, to cry together, to break together, to heal together.

By Monique Minahan, Contributor

Creator of The Grief Practice: Trauma-infor

If grief could speak it would say, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry it’s me that arrived at your doorstep instead of love. But I am made of love too. In fact, it’s because I love so much that I hurt so much when I lose the people I love.

THE BLOG

If Grief Could Speak, Here Are Five Things It Would Say

I am not a sickness, I am grief. I am a valid experience and emotion and there is no right way to hold me. There is just your way. No two people receive me the same way. Let’s find our own way to dance together, to cry together, to break together, to heal together.

By Monique Minahan, Contributor

Creator of The Grief Practice: Trauma-informed yoga that welcomes grief.

06/28/2016 05:49pm ET | Updated June 29, 2017

If grief could speak it would say, I’m sorry.

I’m sorry it’s me that arrived at your doorstep instead of love. But I am made of love too. In fact, it’s because I love so much that I hurt so much when I lose the people I love.

If grief could speak it would say, You can survive.

I know you may not want to. I know life may not be worth living without them. I know the earth collapsed beneath your feet. I know a part of you died with them. And I know you can survive, one breath at a time, one moment at a time, one day at a time.

If grief could speak it would say, Please don’t hide me away.

I know when people see you with me they get uncomfortable. I know your friends don’t know what to say to me. I know it’s easier to hide me away when you have company over for dinner.

But I’d like a seat at the table. Will you let me speak? Will you listen to me? I can’t promise I’ll be polite or calm. I may raise my voice because I’m angry or I may collapse in a pile of tears, but if I can let it out then I don’t have to hold it in here, in you. I’d like to create some more space inside you for all of us to coexist. You, me, love, anger, laughter, peace, hope, joy… there’s enough room for all of us in your heart.

If grief could speak it would say, I love you.

You may not love me, but I love you. I love how you love so big. I love how you keep taking care of your babies who lost their papas or their mamas. I love how you keep taking care of that space your loved one took up even though they’re gone. How you leave their favorite book in the same place, how you leave their clothes folded, how you let them live a little longer in the things left behind. I love how you don’t let the world forget they were here, that they mattered, that they were a part of you. I love you.

If grief could speak it would say, Find your own way.

There seem to be a lot of “experts” out there about me. They say I work in stages and they make it sound like I’m something to get over, like the flu. What I can tell you is there is nothing wrong with me and there is nothing wrong with you. I am not a sickness, I am grief. I am a valid experience and emotion and there is no right way to hold me. There is just your way. No two people receive me the same way. Let’s find our own way to dance together, to cry together, to break together, to heal together.

Let’s find our own way through this brief and beautiful life.

My son starting getting into photography after his daughter was born. I had bought him a professional camera. He told me it was the best present I had ever given him. I believe it was great therapy for him. It helped him balance that place in his mind and bring beauty from the special places he always enjoyed going to. He never got to see the world but

he saw more than most people by always looking up close and appreciating all that was around him. . He was so gifted and could have done great things with his life but perhaps he already had by just being who he was.

Its funny how when you think all is lost in this world when you feel all alone God puts something in your life that makes you feel the light that use to shine inside of you. The greatest thing my son has given me is showing me unconditional kindness and compassion. He was the person that always showed up for others. Today these two beautiful people showed up for Billy. The light of my son was lit today and remembered. When you walk in darkness every day this act of compassion can never be expressed. I am forever greatful.

Physchology today….Kenneth Doka PhD

Sometimes the death of an adult child can affect other relationships. Relations with the widowed spouse or grandchildren may change. Family events may seem so different now.

There may be other issues. Parents may feel a lack of control that complicates the loss. Though it is their child, they may have little or no control over treatment or even the funeral or burial.

The death of a child is an “out-of-order” death. Normally the parent dies first. This, too, affects grief. Parents may feel a sense of survivor guilt, questioning why their child died. There may be a sense of injustice that challenges spiritual beliefs.

How, then, can parents cope with such a loss? How can others offer support? First, it is critical to validate that grief, to recognize that the death of a child, regardless of age or circumstances, is always a horrendous event. Support is critical. There may be value in seeking counseling or joining a support group. The Compassionate Friends, for example, is a support group for parents who are grieving the death of a child.

If the parent had little control over the funeral rituals or if these rituals were not meaningful, a parent may wish to gather his or her own friends for a ritual.

Finally, it is important to acknowledge that others—perhaps a spouse, siblings, children and friends, share this loss. Grieve with them.

I recently met someone who I have connected with that shares the same compassion the same soul as me. The biggest thing I have felt is the empty hole that has opened since the loss of my son. I never cared who disappointed me because my son filled all the spaces in my life. When I lost him all the disappointment of others were magnified. This has been the greatest challenge for me. Living amoungst the cruelty alone trying to react to it all on my own. I truly believe my son has put her in my life. I believe our boys are together. They were exactly the same kindred souls. There are no coincidences in life. I am forever greatful for her friendship. We never met but we share a bond that no amount of years could ever create. Thank you my friend

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