#griefsupport

[sevikainmyserviks]

𑁤 ~ lovers lament

warnings: grief, death, depression, lack of appetite, mention of jinx’s, and their parent’s death, hurt comfort

wc: 600, not proofread, dividers from @cursed-carmine

summary: little hurt/comfort drabble of reader grieving. no use of y/n, no body descriptors, implied female reader coz vi is gay duh, but used pretty gender neutral descriptions coz everyone goes thru everything

the weeks seem to pass by in hours. blurry, monotonous, dragging. you’re surviving by a thread Vi has single handedly kept woven tight.

you’ve been through plenty in your lifetime in the lanes— who hasn’t? we were never set up to succeed.

but grief? never.

evident in your eyes clinging onto light, sorrow deep in your soul bleeding out.

Vi’s done this before— grieved family, felt the loss within herself, their decayed flesh and blood taking a piece of her with them.

it kills her to see it on you; the same lost, wandering, dull sparks inside you, just as she felt at 15— repeating when jinx slipped through her fingers once again.

you remember how she went quiet and kept going. how she seems untouched and crushed by the loss— because she’s done it before.

you haven’t.

not that you wish it happened earlier, but you never learned to grieve, cope, keep going through death.

you tell yourself not to feel sorry for yourself, Vi has it so much worse and she’s stands tough, strong, bright.

and all you can seem to muster is a shower when she drags you from bed and a meal she brings to you— half-eaten and nauseating.

Vi stays in bed longer in the morning and earlier in the nights. she lets you talk, stay silent, cry, repeat the same few sentences— failing to really process anything.

she lets herself cry about you too— she knows you’d rather see how real your feelings are in her own heart, rather than ‘staying tough’ for you.

your grief takes her too.

her fingers mindlessly coil your hair around them, letting you focus on anything other than an ache that seems richer every few days.

she faces you, your eyes fall on her chest, feeling the warmth of her palm in yours.

“i wish i could tell you it gets better, but it doesn’t. it gets easier to live in, but it all aches the same if you let it out.” Vi doesn’t mean to worry you, but she needs to be honest. you can’t expect to be the same, because you can’t. grief is life changing.

“you seem so good at it.”

“time. and experience.” Vi’s voice breaks a moment, but it doesn’t get her.

“they weren’t even..great to me. they weren’t around when they were alive. “

“but there was always a chance, y’know? jinx could’ve gotten help, powder could’ve come back, even just for a moment— but now they can’t change. that’s why.”

Vi is quiet while she finds the right words.

“people can change, get the help, do the right things, come back around. but death is permanent. and i don’t…no one is ever really ready to accept that someone they love can’t change.”

pressure builds behind your eyes, but your too dehydrated to really cry. though your eyes stay red, puffy, and tired all the same.

Vi’s thumb swipes the creases beside them, same as she would if you had tears left.

“do you still think about your parents everyday? jinx?”

“pretty much. sometimes it’s like they’re trying to get my attention— big reminders of them right in my face. but more often it’s the little things. they stack up, feels like they’re torturing you at times. you can find them in everything.”

she cradles the back of your head and pulls herself in to kiss your head, temple, corner of your lips. “you’ll make it. it’ll be easier. i love you, sweetheart”

you wrap your arms around her waist, bringing yourself into her, face to chest.

“love you too, Vi.”

[hithisrmyimaginesaccount]

losing someone to death really shakes everything up like what do you mean they’re not here anymore? where could they have possibly gone? i can’t even say hello or i love you again and hear them say it back? fuck that. i can never catch a glimpse of them again? not even once? not even in another, say 10 years? what is this place they’re all in? why is the curfew so strict? why can’t i see them again? at least once? don’t trees die every winter but they come back in the spring. why is this bias only for humans?

i want to see my human again. at least for another minute, so i can tell them i love them and i am a fucking mess. i want to see my human again.

[justagirl198310]

I keep saying things like “I wish she could see this.” And people respond with things like “she does, in her own way” or “she’s watching from above.”

But that’s not what I mean.

I don’t picture her somewhere looking down at us or keeping up with everything we’re doing. She was tired. She fought hard and she was ready. I think she stayed just long enough to know we’d be okay, and then she finally went to rest.

And I’m glad for that. She deserves to rest and renew.

When I say “she should be here,” it’s not about her. It’s about me.

It’s about the fact that I still need her here. Not in some spiritual way. Not in a “she’s still with you” way. I mean here. Physically. In the room. In the moment. And these big moments make that really obvious. They’re the kind of moments you’re supposed to have your mom for. The kind where you look over without thinking and expect her to be there.

So when I say “I wish she could see this,” what I really mean is…

I wish you were here with me. Because I still need you.

[memorialmerits]

Navigating the Emotional Journey: How to Plan a Memorial Service that Honors a Life of Adventure

Memorial services are a time for reflection and

[whispersofthepurplevalley]

Nothing has helped a grieving person more than knowing that they weren't the only ones going through the loss, bearing the weight of an absence that will only be filled when you yourself cross the wall between life and death. There's healing in feeling belonged. There's ease in knowing and seeing that life really does go on when a part of you falls apart.

Lean on that's why. You don't have to have someone specially made for you to cater to your needs. You can create a fairytale out of a genuine moment with a stranger, where a few kind words magically sum up everything you have failed to comprehend and bring meaning to your pain, and you finally find the strength and courage to move forward. Allow yourself to need a helping hand. Do not make healing an unattainable road for you by thinking your pain is unique. Where the intensity may vary, the nature of pain usually is shared by all. Perhaps, that's solely why the world is filled with so many people. To make us common. To make existing less lonely.

Sabina Yesmin

[readersmagnet]

Rich Carpenter shared poignant poems from 2000, reflecting on loss and life in Sedona, Arizona. His "When The Rose Fades" proposal centers on hospice care and supporting those in grief. The author adds new poems exploring life, death, courage, and inspiration themes.

Immerse yourself in poetry that speaks to loss, courage, and the beauty of life. Visit https://www.brionkhanks-poetry.com/ and order "When The Rose Fades" today!

[illuminatingfacts]

Top 10 Most Inspiring Quotes About Love and Loss - Illuminating Facts

Discover the Top 10 Most Inspiring Quotes About Love and Loss 💕✨ Heartfelt words to comfort, heal, and inspire. Which one resonates with you the most? 🌹 https://illuminatingfacts.com/top-10-most-inspiring-quotes-about-love-and-loss/

[petrichara]

There’s a quote about mothering your grief, I like to think of grief like that. How when they die, you have to take care of yourself like you’re an infant. You focus on the basics: eat, sleep, hydrate, clean, repeat. And when it sinks in that they’re gone, it’s like a toddler having big emotions you don’t have the words for or the capacity to understand yet. You deal with the meltdowns as they come. Then time goes on a little more and you’ve grown up some more, and you have more words to describe your feelings now, you’re more prepared for how to deal with the meltdowns when they do come. And the grief doesn’t go away, you have the experience to know how to get yourself through it to the best of your abilities. When many years and decades have gone by, I suppose it’s like your grown-up child calling to check-in every once in a while. The grief is still there, it’s a part of you, but it doesn’t take up the entirety of your home anymore.