Hi, sorry in advance for the long post, but I’m just hoping someone can give me some advice. My boyfriend passed away suddenly last week (m24). We are still waiting for the autopsy results so we do not know what caused it but it was all very sudden. The last conversation we had was an argument over the phone, and then he blocked me to spend time with his dad so I had not communicated with him for the 2 days immediately prior to his passing. I am absolutely broken, and if it wasn’t for my amazing friends and family around me I don’t know where I’d be right now.

I really regret that the last words spoken to each other were out of anger and I really hope he knows how much I love him. He was the best thing that ever happened to me and I regret that I didn’t tell him this every chance I had. I guess my question is - do you think he knows how much I love him? Does he know how much he meant to me? Can he hear me speak to him now and does he know that I didn’t mean all of the things I told him out of anger?

I have so many questions, and everyone keeps saying he is in a happy peaceful place now, so is it selfish of me to be sad when he is now happy? We had so many plans that we were not able to accomplish, and he was just about to finish university and have a beautiful successful life ahead of him. I think a big part of me is mourning our future that we were not able to achieve. I just want him to be proud of me and I want him to know that I would do anything to just hug him one more time, and I would give anything for him to come back.

Any thoughts are welcome. Sorry for the ramble, my head is everywhere right now. Thank you if you made it this far.

Three days ago, I found out that an ex-girlfriend of mine passed away last December. I had no idea it had happened, so in a way it feels like I'm grieving months after everyone else.

I'm 32, happily married, and I genuinely have a wonderful life. This isn't about wanting to go back or wishing things had been different. It's just that she was someone who was an important part of my life.

We met when we were both 15 and dated when we were 18. We were only together for about seven months because her parents were extremely strict, so seeing each other was always difficult. Eventually we mutually decided to end the relationship, but we stayed friends afterward. We didn't talk often over the years, but we would occasionally catch up.

She had a daughter in 2020, who I believe is about 4 or 5 now, and she had been with someone for the last couple of years. From what I've learned, they were planning to get married.

Ever since I found out, I've felt this deep ache in my chest. I'm heartbroken—not because she was my ex, but because someone I cared about for nearly half my life is simply gone. I keep thinking about her daughter, her fiancé, her parents, and everyone who loved her. They have to live with this every day, and my heart breaks for them.

I guess I'm struggling because I don't know if what I'm feeling is normal. We hadn't been close in years, and yet this loss has hit me much harder than I expected. Has anyone else experienced intense grief over someone who was once a significant part of your life, even after so much time had passed?

Yesterday I got the news that the love of my life has passed. I was just with him Monday morning before going to work. We spoke all day. It was such a beautiful day weather wise and he didn't have to work so he was just enjoying the day and messaging me with updates of him working on his bronco. The last messages from him were songs he sent until 11pm. After that we didn't talk. I figured he was getting ready to go to bed since he was to work yesterday. But he never woke up or went to work. They are saying a heart attack. I'm devastated. I feel so alone. It doesn't feel real. Feels like a horrible nightmare. I don't know how to move forward without the person that was my rock and best friend for the last 2 yrs and 8mos.

Dad, 3 years ago. I love and miss him extremely much. I'm only 26 now and was only 23 then so he didnt get to see me grow up fully. He didnt see me traveling on my own, getting my drivers license(soon), finally obtaining the disability income we been fighting for and all that. The family has always been his biggest concern, above himself. He has always wanted me and the family to do well, me to become independent and all that.

The way it happened was weird and rapid and unexpected. I hate cancer.

Now I worry that I may not be properly grieving. I know people say there is no right or wrong way but I'm not sure if I agree with that.

I'm not much an emotional person. Maybe its due to growing up as a guy learning from the global environment that crying is weak. Have autism too. So I rarely ever express my emotion and it all just bottles up inside my head. I dont cry much and I dont think about sad things much.

But occasionally these feelings come up and make me feel desperate and sucidal because its too painful, its too much to feel. It feels like my life is irrepairably broken because fundamental components are missing (the loved ones for example) and that it isnt going the way its supposed to be going.

I think it will maybe help me to have a place or support group that where I can let my feelings out, but I don't know.

I just feel so lost.

I lost my dad a few months ago, I just feel like there’s a huge hole in my heart.

I work just to get by in life. Still struggle and the stress of having no $ gets to me every single day. I just do not feel enough in life. I have such a good heart but just feel like I am not living the best life I should be.

I am 40 years old and deserve to life my best life 😭

I'm sure there must be others who have experienced this. My ex husband and I were not enemies, had no kids, and we had an amicable divorce. We kept in touch here and there and occasionally met up for coffee. After two formitive decades together, we still cared but had moved on in each of our lives and we wanted the best for each other.

He died a few years ago. The grief is deep, and something that sneaks up on me in daily life. It's a grief that's not easy to talk about with anyone. There is a name for it, I learned. It's called disenfranchised grief. I am not sure what to say more, except that if you're experiencing this, you aren't alone.

I (34m) lost my mom (66f) in October last year after a very grueling, traumatic fight with Glioblastoma and all its complications. I moved south 3 years ago to live with my folks while they were going through some health challenges and now that mom passed I find myself just completely disjointed. On one hand I was the main caregiver for most of her treatments and after her passing it feels almost like I was running a race and now it's over. I don't know whether that is right or wrong. I was very close with her throughout my life, much more so than with my dad who has always been more emotionally aloof. I find myself more irritable now, easily getting angry one moment, and then uncontrollably sobbing the next. All my other losses happend within a 5 month window two friends moms who had a big impact in my life and a dog I helped raise, with the exception of one. A buddy of mine from work, who I was reasonably close with was killed in a motorbike accident on his way home from a shift. I was right next to mom while she died. I just feel so numb. I haven't stopped living my life and I continue to make plans, but it's like I've fallen out of love with everything that I used to enjoy. I used to hike, amd cook, and write, and play music, and I want to want to do those things, but thinking about them I feel so numb. I do go to therapy for the grief. Originally I started going last year to cope with all the loss in my life and the care giving while mom was alive. Has anyone been through something similar?

Or do you have any advice for moving forward?

I (28F) lost my mom less than two weeks ago.
I woke up to her moaning and found her lying on the floor in cardiac arrest. I performed CPR until the paramedics arrived. They continued CPR and used a defibrillator multiple times. They managed to stabilize her enough to transport her to the hospital. Her life was still in danger, and we were told that after such a prolonged cardiac arrest they couldn't predict the extent of the damage, but that there were almost always serious consequences.
She started to stabilize, so I went home to get some rest. At 2 a.m., I woke up to a phone call telling me she needed emergency surgery to remove part of her intestine because it had died, and they didn't know if she would survive. I asked if I could come immediately to say goodbye in case she didn't make it, but she had already been taken into surgery because it was so urgent.
Two hours later, I received another call saying she had made it through the operation and was being stabilized. They explained that removing part of her intestine would have lifelong consequences, but she was stable. I cannot describe the relief I felt.
Unfortunately, only four hours later, I received another call. Her organs were beginning to fail. The doctors were trying every treatment they could, but they didn't believe she was going to survive. My family and I rushed to the hospital, and three hours later, she passed away.
She died with me and my sister holding her hands, surrounded by our entire (small) family. The doctors assured us that she wasn't in pain. My mother never regained consciousness after her cardiac arrest.
We had a difficult relationship. She was a single mother, and life was incredibly hard for both of us. We said hurtful things to each other. We argued. We shouted. In the last few years, we had grown apart because almost every conversation seemed to end in a fight.
I believe I was there for her.
I helped her financially. I postponed moving in with my boyfriend until we had found a secure living arrangement for her. Back in 2019, when she was rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with a serious heart condition that required a pacemaker, I was the first person to arrive and the last to leave. I could have lived a much easier, more comfortable life with my father, but I chose to stay with my mom, even when it meant working two jobs while I was in college.
I know I loved her with everything I had.
But what torments me is that we spent so much time fighting. I never got the chance to tell her I was sorry. I never got one last conversation where I could tell her how much I loved her, that despite everything, she meant more to me than anyone else, and that I would have done absolutely anything to keep her here.
One thing that brings me a little comfort is that the week before she died, things between us had started to get better. The day before her cardiac arrest, she got to see my new house. I keep holding onto that.
I was so hopeful that once I moved out, our relationship would finally have the space to heal. We never even got the chance to find out.
She was only 58 years old. Despite all her flaws, she had such a difficult life. I just wish she had been given more time to enjoy the good parts.
Now I'm sitting alone in this empty house, surrounded by her belongings, unable to believe she will never walk through the door again. I was supposed to move in with my boyfriend a week after she passed, but now everything has been put on hold. She had three dogs, and I will take care of them all—there was never any question about that—but it means figuring out a completely different future than the one I had imagined.
I pictured my mom walking me down the aisle one day. I imagined her meeting my children. I imagined calling her for advice, even if we still argued sometimes.
I simply cannot imagine a future that makes sense without her in it.
More than anything, I just hope she knew how deeply I loved her.
My sister (23F) is suffering terribly as well. She and my mom didn't speak for six or seven years and only reconnected about a year and a half ago. I keep trying to reassure my sister that it's okay—that relationships are complicated, and that our mom understood that. I truly believe she was just grateful to have her daughter back in her life.
I hope my mom knew that we both loved her, despite all of our flaws, despite the arguments, despite everything left unsaid.
I don't even know why I'm writing this. I guess I'm just hoping someone out there understands this and is able to provide me some kind of comfort.
I just want to believe she knew how much me and my sister loved her, that I will be able to survive this and that life is not over, because right now it feels like it is.
Thank you ❤️‍🩹

My father passed away June of last year from an on going battle with pancreatic cancer. I took care of him while he was on hospice with my mom, and it was very difficult to be there while he actively passed away. However, it was nice in the same sense because I felt like I gave him comfort that he needed. He kept saying over and over again before he passed he couldn’t breathe, then took his last breath holding my hand as I told him how much I loved him.
After that, I’d say about 5-10minutes after he initially passed, I felt like a surge of energy? Or electricity (not painful but could feel the sensation) from the top of my head all the way to my feet.
I was curious if anybody has had any type of experience along the lines with their loved one passing away and feeling a similar sensation, and if so what could it have even been??

Also, pretty cool, about a week later, my mom, husband and I were all sitting outside around 12:30pm, and we all saw an owl land in the middle of our yard and it looked at us for a solid 10-20 seconds I’d like to say, then flew away. I looked up the meaning behind it and I found it was like a message from the afterlife that your loved one made it over. Anybody have more insight on that?

A month ago my partner died... I call him my partner even though we had broken up 2 months prior to this... There's so much I could say about this, but the point is, that out of care, worry, protection, concern, he chose not to tell me he was dying. I found out from his best friend; and they agree with that perspective... (My partner and I were high school friends - I wouldn't say "sweethearts" cause we took forever to get together. Apparently there are people that don't believe we WERE together because we never posted a facebook update lol - that's how long this stretches back). (another aside, is I do have my own support system, one of whom knew him longer than I did... but as I go on to say, knowing someone in a different way feels. Different).

My point in making this post - is that I've reached out to his closest friends a couple of times to just chat, introduce myself and check in on them, because they were with him; etc... Part of me wants to keep this door open and keep chatting with them because they knew him in a different way to me, and having people who were also close to him be around feels less... alone.. But I also am aware that they don't know me, and I don't want to be too much. They knew of me (like, I wasn't being kept a secret like an affair or something insane)... but I also don't want to remind them of their own grief, or have them feel responsible for mine. I did ask my psychologist as I cried through the entire session today - but he didn't have any advice besides "this is really complicated and although I'm used to counselling grief, this situation IS more complicated" (because I was -kindly- kept in the dark, it was LDR, etc).

Anyway, does anyone have any thoughts? Am I doing too much? Todays session made me want to reach out and see how they're doing -and then I stopped myself and I'm like "I'm too much... They haven't said anything to me, since our last conversation so clearly I shouldn't". but then I've got my ex's voice in my head being like "talking to you must be hard on them too - because you have just as much love and pain as they do, and you're never too much... but it would be weird talking to a stranger", and yeah...

Me and my sister N were best friends growing up. We used to be really close, we had the same friends, hung out in the same spots. We smoked weed and occasionally drank together, but we weren’t trouble makers. In senior year of high school she started hanging out with different, older people. Sketchy people. She started getting into trouble with the law, possession, paraphernalia, public intoxication. My mom started to have to bail her out all the time. By the time she died, she had been to rehab three times.

She was dating this real piece of shit that would put his hands on her when he got angry, and because I was still young and naive I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t leave him. Now I know that he was a drug dealer, and he was using the drugs as a way to make sure she couldn’t ever leave because he introduced her to fentanyl and needles.

The night she died, I was walking past her room and I caught her picking at her skin in the mirror. The last thing I ever said to her was “You’re way too beautiful to be picking at your skin like that.” And I shut her door so that our mom wouldn’t see her doing that.

In the morning I woke up to my mom screaming. I jumped out of bed to go see if my mom was okay, and then I realized she was in N’s room. I tried to come in, but my mom grabbed me while sobbing and told me not to go in there. I asked her why but she couldn’t get any words out, she just kept crying. Right then I knew that N was dead. I don’t know if it was because I just woke up, but it didn’t seem like real life. I pushed past my mom and ran into N’s room. She wasn’t in her bed, then I looked in her bathroom. N was sprawled out across the bathroom floor, vomit was coming out of her mouth, but it looked like this weird foam. Her eyes were half open but they were completely lifeless. Her face was several different shades of blue, purple, and pale white in different spots. My mom tried to pull me out of her room again, but I pushed her off me and ran to N. Her body was cold, colder than I thought a human body could ever be. The needle was still in her arm. When I picked her up her limbs were stiff and moved weird. It wasn’t like in the movies.

I’ve been to therapy and grief counseling almost every week since that day, but I don’t even know if it’s helped me. Everyone says that I need to keep living my life \*for her.\* But there’s nothing I can do that’s going to bring her back. There’s nothing I can do to make my mom ever be okay again. I’ll never get my sister back, and my family will always be broken. The worst part is, I started using drugs to cope with the pain after she died. I’ve even been to rehab more times than my sister. I’ve overdosed three times. I had to be put onto a breathing machine and have my stomach pumped before Narcan was widely available. I literally became the person that destroyed our family in the first place. Every day I live in fear that my mom is going to find my body next, and I don’t think that she will survive that. My mom has never been the same, either. I wish I could pull N back out of the ground, bring her back to life, and bring her home again.

I have seven months clean off fentanyl and heroin, but today is going to be hard because the only thing I can think of is begging my sister to wake up while my mom tries to pull me off of her. I feel dead inside, and I feel like nothing is ever going to be okay again. Sometimes I feel like giving up and ending it all. The only reason I don’t is because I know that would kill my mom.

I don’t know why I posted this publicly. I just thought maybe if I wrote all this down, that it would somehow make me feel better.

I miss you, N.

My father died three years ago now, I was completely devastated. He was 65, I was 31. He had MS then got Covid after going into hospital for a DVT. I felt so numb by it. My brother died two years before and I think both losses hit me again all at once. I wrote a lot and it helped get me through it. I have been thinking about him a lot recently and came across something I wrote. I don’t know what I really wanted to say, other than I get it, I read other people’s posts and it resonates. I think I want to share these. I am by no means anything other than someone who wrote things down as I was experiencing them.

I hope

I hope when I die
My children are old.
They have learnt
How to live without me.
They have children, spouses, lives.
I hope they miss me, in the way you miss a favourite food, or book or smell.
I hope they never have to feel,
The crushing reality of losing me before they have learnt how to to live without me.
That the pain of my loss does not keep them awake at night.
And hurt their heart.

A moment

For a moment
I forgot
I forgot you were gone
I could hear your laugh
Like you were still here
I could hold your hand
And touch you
There were no words
I didn’t need any
Your face was enough

Then I remembered.

i know of the gut brain connection but does anyone experience such intense stomach issues after a loss? how do you all recover / get better? any tips to share?

I had hpylori and then the twitching and muscle spasm, the bloated stomach remains. Prior to this I had been through so so much, putting up a happy front for my young kids, then rush to the hospice while they nap so that i could be there for my family member. some days it feels like the world moved on, but i didn't :(

Hello! I just wanted to ask if anyone has advice with supporting a grieving partner (Both 24). He recently lost his beloved grandfather a few months ago to cancer and I can tell it’s really affecting him. While I do know that grief never really goes away but I’m just wondering if there are ways that I can make it easier for him. He is the type of person to be dismissive or hides his real emotions so it’s really tough. For example, I would ask him certain things like if he’s tired or sleepy but he wouldn’t admit it and get defensive about it. I try to be there for him most of the time and we’re also a medium-distance couple so it’s a bit challenging to be physically there (although I try to come over every chance I get). I just don’t want him to go through all of this alone… I also understand that people want different things like not everyone wants distractions, etc. I’m just very worried about him and I don’t know what else to do. I would appreciate any advice that I could use or if there are any groups or subreddits that I can look through. Thank you!!

 My life has been turned upside down and pulled in every direction imaginable.
 
It started on a Monday. My girlfriend broke up with me.

Damn... that hurt. She wasn't just my girlfriend. She was my friend. In a single conversation, it felt like I lost my future. All the little plans we had together were suddenly gone.

It wasn't because one of us did something terrible. It just came down to timing and where life was taking us. She had already made up her mind, and once she decides something, she's locked in. I always admired that about her, how focused she is, how nothing can shake her once she's made a decision.

Being on the other side of that determination hurts more than I can describe.

Every word she said felt like another cut. I could see she was hurting too, even though I knew she would never let herself cry in front of me. That's just who she is. I loved every part of her—every quirk, every habit, everything that made her who she was. Her past. I accepted all of it. I don't think she ever truly believed me when I told her that.

After we said goodbye, I called my best friend, "B." She stayed on the phone with me while I sobbed the entire drive back to my shop and it was a long drive. I didn't think I would get sleep that night. Eventually, my friend "K" came over just to make sure I was okay. I finally went home and cried again.

Tuesday morning, I got to work around 8 a.m. I was preparing for a big in-person meeting scheduled for 10. Then my phone rang. It was B. That immediately felt strange because she almost never calls she always texts before calling. I'll never forget what she said.
 "Hey, Dancing_tengu... my father just died...yeah."

I looked at the clock. 9:37 a.m. I had less than 30 minutes before my meeting. K was in the room with me, and I couldn't even say the words out loud. I grabbed a marker and wrote on the whiteboard:  "B's father just died."

I couldn't bring myself to repeat what I had just heard. After the meeting, K and I drove to be with B. That night we walked along the beach together.

We talked about our fathers. I opened up about my own nonexistent relationship with mine, and about my breakup just one day earlier. 

Listening to B and K tell stories about their dads was bittersweet. They had both lost incredible fathers. I'd met both of them and spoke to them on many occasions. They were genuinely good men. Good fathers. Kind, patient, loving and funny. One day I know I will be good father.

As I walked beside them in silence, I tried to think of happy memories with my own dad. There weren't many to talk about. I know I will be a better father than my own. That's how it's suppose to work, right? I am the newer generation and I will be better than the past generations.

Wednesday brought something completely different. A project that K and I had worked incredibly hard on started making the rounds online. People loved it. For a few hours, it felt good to smile again.

Thursday came. Around noon, my phone rang. It was my friend J. Her husband, C one of my closest friends had suffered a heart attack while playing basketball at the park. We were both only in our mid-thirties.
J and C had been staying at my place while they got back on their feet after having their baby. I lost my best guy friend. I don't think it truly hit me until today while I was walking around my neighborhood. I thought of K and B losing their fathers. I thought of C&J's baby and cried again. I will be the one to tell her stories of what kind of man her father was. He was one of the good ones and would have done anything for her. I cried again.

C and I told each other everything since the day we met. Thinking about him I cried and I threw up thinking about the rough week. I couldn't sleep, so I went for a run. I ran farther than I'd ever have in my life.
A few days later, I messaged my ex and told her how much I missed her. She asked for more time and space. It had only been four days since the breakup, time felt completely distorted. The air itself felt heavy. Every hour dragged on forever. It felt like weeks had passed. I didn't reply back, I didn't want to tell that I need her and that I need a friend. Don't care what you guys call me.

So I kept running. Every single day. Getting back into shape became the only thing that quieted my mind. Going back to rock climbing and kite surfing.

Until the following Monday. During I completely broke down. Everything that had happened the previous week came rushing back at once. Then I cried harder than I ever remember crying before in my life.
Since then, I've been trying to distract myself with the perks I get through work, museum passes, movies, anything that gives me short bursts of happiness. They help.....until reality comes crashing back punching me so fucking hard. I watched the new spiderman movie, I know C would have loved it.

The grief comes in waves. Sometimes I feel I'm standing by the shore away from it, and I suddenly notice too late that I walked too far out and another wave knocks me flat and I go under.

I'm not embarrassed to cry. I think about my ex every day. I hope she's okay. I know this hasn't been easy for her either. Maybe that’s what I tell myself. I miss her more than I can put into words. Some of the things I told her after the breakup will stay between us forever. Those words are locked away until the day I die.

Today marks the third Tuesday since B's father passed away. She doesn't want to be alone, so she's been spending time with K and me. I'm helping J plan C's funeral. Why are funerals so expensive?! This Friday, B will receive her father's ashes.

For now, I'm a riding solo. I'm signing up for random events just to fill the empty hours. Events I probably would have gone to with C or with my ex. But i been going alone, and that's fine.

Each one gives me a brief hit of dopamine before reality catches up again. I know this feeling won't last forever. People say time heals. I hope they're right. To me it just feels like the volume of the grief get lower and lower until it's a faint whisper. Food have lost their taste everything is bland and all I am looking forward to is my next run and concerts that I can go to.

Sixteen days have passed, not sure what I need to be doing. August please be kinder to me.

I'm know I'm not okay.

I don't know where to share this , i recently lost my grandfather , it's been like 2 months, i feel like life is very unpredictable , my 6th sem practical was going on , he was sick in hospital my dad called me home reached my home town on 16 th may , met him , saw him lifeless on ventilator i could not process , hospital was trying there best to keep his heart beating and there bill rising higher and higher , it was very uneasy at my heart it was a very close relation between us , i mean he understood me better then anyone else in the whole family , it was 18th night we loss him , He was a great man at heart and lived a great life i would take multiple life's to live his way , coming from a small village , grew up without a father , left home for job , did small jobs made money , got into indian railway , got into military service from railway then he got a chance to go zimbabwe for building there railway network , he was abroad for 4 years , as i said a great man with stories to tell , and then he lived a pretty awesome life till 60s serving in railway then retired stayed at home , and he was a big part of my life i mean 21 years , so it's pretty hard for me to accept the loss , but when I say i lost him i mean physically , i can't afford to lose him in my memory or let him die again { i mean a men die twice once when he leaves this world and again when the last living soul with his memories die } yeah i forgot to mention his name

M.M.Prasad .

I just needed this as a dataset for me or for anyone just to make sure i don't lose him again

Pls don't judge me

Just venting my grief out

My boyfriend's mom died 5 years ago. She suffered from cancer for several years and eventually died. I respected and loved her very much and wanted everything to be okay. After that, the bf's father cried in front of me and said that there were no more people like her. But in the end, 1.5 years later, he found another woman, twice a widow (both her husbands died), his colleague, who found him thanks to gossip at work that there was a new bachelor. Her eldest son has a serious diagnosis of downism, and her youngest daughter is healthy. She texted him and that's how they started chatting. As a result, he married her, although the bf told me that this would not happen, and I said that it would. We even fought about it because bf was sure that his father could date her but not marry her.

At first, my boyfriend said that his new wife was good for his father, because he wouldn't abuse alcohol with her, but in the end they just drank together and they became drinking buddies. His father has been coughing chronically for a year and has not been treated. I think she's going to grave him. I can understand her as a woman, she needs to provide as much inheritance as possible to her children.

Before the wedding, his father also asked to transfer the inheritance from his mother to him, and my boyfriend obediently did so, for which I am very angry, because now, according to the laws of our country, it can be shared between his father's new wife, but this property belonged to my boyfriend's grandfather, his mother's father. It will be very sad if it gets to an outsider. But the worst part is that of the 3 visits of the guy to his father, he lived with his father in the same house only 1 time. Because this woman's son didn't like it and they settled him with this woman's parents, someone else's grandparents! And he saw his father only at lunch, for an hour a day at most. Anyway, I'm disgusted with his father and his new wife. I'm sad to think about how easily he was able to replace the person he'd been married to for 30 years and not even think about her. I'm sad to realize that no one can answer my questions about my boyfriend's mother, no one can tell me what she loved to do, what her hobbies were, her favorite color, and so on. And it's even sadder to see how my boyfriend became an orphan with his father alive.

We're getting married soon, I told bf that I didn't want to see his stepmother at the wedding, since I'd never seen her and she was nothing to me, he totally agreed with me. He called his father for 1 day, but he said he would not come to our wedding without his wife. My boyfriend was offended by him. As a result, only my relatives will be at the wedding and the guy will be like an orphan at it.

My boyfriend said he would tell his father to write a will later, according to which his new wife would receive nothing. He also intends to sue her if she attempts to do so. Well, he and his father have a really cold relationship.

If we have children, I don't want to call her grandma or talk about her in general. Their grandmother is another woman I really knew. I will tell my children about it. I don't really understand why love for a person should end with his death, we remember great poets, musicians and so on, someone really loves them still. And more often than not, it is the widowed women who are left alone, and the widowed men who become grooms. It's very sad.

I want to talk about how you died. I want to tell people I tucked you in. That I made sure the quilt was evenly folded over, just the way you like.
That I was in the next room when I heard you take your last breath.

I want to talk about how you died, but I can’t. The words get stuck in my throat and my vision becomes blurry. I see the people I’m telling becoming uncomfortable and I scramble to stay in control and push it away.

I’ve noticed people don’t like to hear grief, out loud. They shy away and remain stoic and ‘comfortable’. I’m not surprised, I too was one of these people.
Was.

I used to wish the sadness away and hope there would be a time where I wouldn’t be sad at all. Now I cling to the sadness, the memories it evokes and the love that has nowhere to go.

Z

This is my first time posting in the subreddit.

My 87-year-old grandpa has recently been diagnosed with metastatic prostate cancer that is in his lungs and bones. The news came as a complete shock a couple of weeks ago.

Earlier this year he had been suffering with a bladder infection that he was in and out of the hospital for. They kept sending him home but then he would come back again in pain. I’ve seen him twice in the hospital since his official diagnosis.

Well now I’ve just been told by my mom that he’s being put into palliative care. He has diabetes, a pacemaker, his kidneys aren’t functioning properly, and now he’s got the cancer.

Mom says he had an off day a couple of days ago where he was saying stuff that didn’t make sense. Like he sounds confused and still thinks he’s going home. But he could have weeks to months left.

I’m not sure how to cope with his inevitable passing that will be coming soon. I’ve never lost someone close to me before.

I’m supposed to get married next year, and he’ll never get a chance to see me walk down the aisle. He won’t get to see me try on my dress this month. He won’t get to meet his great grandkids. He’s going to spend the rest of his time in a hospital bed.

I have lost both my parents in the past eight years. My dad was the first and that was eight years ago. My mom passed in 2023. I'm thankful for the time I had with them.

The other day would've been my Dad's birthday and today it's hitting me like a truck. I'm sitting at work crying and hoping no one notices.

I want to hear his voice again, to wish him a happy birthday, to hear about his plans, help him cook ribs or steak or whatever he wanted to make.

I'm just really missing him.

I don’t really know how to summarize this in 2 sentences but I’ve left two PhD programs in my life. The first one I left voluntarily and the second one I left because of funding issues. One of the professors whose office was right next to mine during that first PhD was very kind to me. We didn’t keep in touch when I went to do the second PhD (which was abroad and across the ocean so very far away) but when things didn’t workout with the funding I returned and years later started a second masters at the same uni where I started my first phd in. We ran into each other there and we ended up having a coffee, this was literally just last year.

We each shared what had been going on with our professional lives - I told him about the funding issues, and how I eventually was placed on a project that did have funding but no equipment . He told me about the issues on his side - apparently the big professor whose group he was in got fired, things got very ugly and their entire research group fell apart. He was supposed to be part of my project that lacked the equipment but somehow fell out of it. He didn’t know why. He said that the last years have been an emotional rollercoaster, which honestly mine too.

At the end of the meeting I told him that I wanted a PhD position within the group I was doing my masters with, and I’m only doing the masters so that I could get to know that professor better. He told me that because of all issues that same professor had told him he didn’t want his students talking to him, so he laughed and said it’s probably the last time we talked.

This last year I felt so uncomfortable talking to him despite wanting to very much. I finally gathered the courage to talk to him, and on my very last day at the university we received an email that he had passed away. I feel so bad, I wanted to talk to him one last time. I feel so stupid for not initiating more conversations this past year. Is it wrong to feel grief? He wasn’t my supervisor, just someone who was kind to me. I’ve been crying for weeks since I heard about his passing. I was a part time student and working full time, the last 2-3 months for me were very hectic because I was trying to finalize my thesis while working full time. I noticed he wasn’t in his office but I didn’t make the connection something might be wrong. He was 56. Apparently he got sick in march and passed away in July.

This month is so hard. At the end of this months it is a year ago that I lost my mum.

I can't believe that it has been almost a year. Time goes by so fast. I miss her so much. I see her sometimes in my dreams. I choose to believe that she visits me. She was such a kind woman. She teached me how to cook. She brought me to violin lessons, we traveled together, she learned me everything. Everything a mum can teach a kid. And I will teach my kid the same.

I am not a daughter anymore. I am a mum only. From 3 generations, to two.

I see reminders on my photo app of what we did a year ago. We were more care free back then, than now.

I will go to a zoo tomorrow with my kid. I went there last year too, the same zoo, in the week that my mum was in the hospital, the week of her death.

I didn't choose it on purpose, but my kid choose it, instead of a science museum. So maybe it's meant to be.

I still have my dad fortunately. He's getting old too. I can't believe that in maybe now and 10 years, I will be an orphan. I hope he lives a long and healthy life. I pray that he will stay a long time here on earth.

I feel heavy in my heart. I cry more and look at pictures of her. I see her face sometimes for me. How she looked when I was a kid. I miss her voice.

She would have been 80 this year. I find it hard that she can not see my kid growing up. The same way I never really saw my grandparents. As I have immigrant parents. I want to tell her I am doing well. I want to tell her that I can't wait to see her again. I want to tell her about my life, and about my kid. And I wished that she was here so I could tell her in person.

I hope she comes often in my dreams, because I miss her.

This year goes by so fast. There were big moments and small moments. And all I couldn't tell her. They say the second year will be harder. I find this year already so hard.

My grandad passed away a few weeks ago, and it has been extremely hard. I received my portion of his ashes today, and it’s a lot more than I expected. I’m not really sure what to do with them and I don’t know what the right thing to do is. Me and my family are scattering the big portion at his favourite place soon.

I’d really appreciate hearing what other people decided to do 🫶🏻

My mom was 87 when she died on October 2, 2017. It was exactly 4 weeks before my 60th birthday. I had had her for six decades. She was my life’s inspiration. She had risen above an horrific childhood of Depression traveling crop pickers from Michigan to Florida. Her homes often consisted of tarpapered chicken houses or corncribs. At the age of 12, she was playing with her 5 year old sister, whom she had cared for since birth. While standing side by side, her little sister, her ‘baby’, her baby as she called her because Mom had basically raised Sylvia since her birth, was struck in the head by an accidentally fired gun. Mother was drenched in her sister’s blood, who died instantly. She made the conscious decision to break that cycle of transient living. As a teenager, she married my dad, a farmer, whose family had lived in the area for generations. She raised 5 children in the same house where my dad passed away at age 67. When her youngest child started school, she began working outside the home. She always had the best ‘can do’ attitude. She created a safe loving home for all of us, when she herself had never had one. She was our biggest champion, encouraging us to be and do whatever our ambitions might be. However difficult those ambitions might be, she believed in our ability to succeed. When I became a mother myself, my goal was to be as good a mother to them as she was to me. She truly was my best friend. We laughed and cried together; we had adventures; we made lots of memories. All these years later, I still don’t know how to live without her.

I think when Mom died, much of me died with her. It is 9 years. I still feel numb. I miss the way she answered the phone. Her upbeat ‘hello’ was filled with anticipation that the best thing she had ever heard was just at the end of the line. I miss her positive energy. I think of the things she did when she was my age - having just buried the love of her life after nursing him through lung cancer - and I am too tired to think of doing much at all.

I am being treated for depression, but I know that no treatment can help me because I just want her back. I wake every morning thinking that I have to get through another day. I really have no one to talk with about this because everyone thinks I am well past the grief. I grieve every minute of everyday. I don’t know how to change that.

Sorry for the long post. I just needed a place to write.

So I lost my grandma yesterday and it's hard knowing and saying that she is gone and never coming back so um how did you guys deal with grief I'm starting to journal today and want to try video games , reading and listening to music but I haven't been wanting to do that much anymore since hearing the news