loss

Everything changed...even the things we didn't want to.

You will never accept gratitude as a solution to your problems, until you have reached the last stage of grief--acceptance.

As long as there is love and memory, there is no true loss.

No mark survives this place: you too will yieldto unmemory.

All I can say is, it's a sort of kinship, as though there is a family tree of grief. On this branch, the lost children, on this the suicided parents, here the beloved mentally ill siblings. When something terrible happens, you discover all of the sudden that you have a new set of relatives, people with whom you can speak in the shorthand of cousins.

I felt like an integral part of my being had just been ripped out of me, only to have it replaced with something that did not belong.

Some aching beauty comes with huge loss, although maybe not right away, when it would be helpful. Life is a very powerful force, despite the constant discouragement. So if you are a person with connections to life, a few tendrils eventually break through the sidewalk of loss, and you notice them, maybe space out studying them for a few moments, or maybe they tickle you into movement and response, if only because you have to scratch your nose.

So, how can I try to be someone I didn't really even know?

A person can__ possibly live without the one person that gave them life.

...losing a friend is like losing a language, and I miss the one we spoke together.

HE didn't realize she was his everything until he gave her up for everything else.

All the great words, it seemed to Connie were cancelled, for her generation: love, joy, happiness, home, mother, father, husband, all these great, dynamic words were half dead now and dying from day to day.

I listen to the rain talk to the leaves. She tells a story of love and leaving (isn__ that always the story? Isn__ that always the punchline?) She tells it softly like someone who has recently lost something that cannot be replaced. She closes her eyes and remembers. The leaves quietly wait. They love in silence. They understand in the dark. And I too begin to understand. We are all part pouring rain, part fallen leaves. We are all part of the world, and we all have a story.

Having a dream, living that dream, losing that dream, dreaming again and then having that dream come true again is one of the greatest feelings ever because I`m stronger.

Gone. and it was completely. Everyone I'd every known, every place I'd ever been. My Mother. My father. Rebecca. Out of site. Out of mind.

As a kid I heard the word malignancy as "Malig-Nancy" like an evil woman's name, no matter how many times Kiwi and the Chief and Dr. Gautman himself corrected me. Our mother had mistaken her first symptoms for a pregnancy, and so I still pictured the Malig-Nancy as a baby, a tiny, eyeless fist of a sister, killing her.

Every game has rules. Obey the rules, win the game; disobey the rule, lose it! The game of life has loser and winners. Play fairly and win!

You shine brighter than the sun""But even the sun goes away every night""But it is hte sun's absence that makes us feel its power. We know the loss, the beauty and the life that the moon can't replace. That is why we hang on to each day we are given.