grief
Losing a family member is one of the most traumatic life events; Families must support one another to endure the five stages of grief and get through it together.
The Walk Through the Night
Shiloh brushed his hair out of his tear stained face. The night air was brisk and found it’s way through the neck of his coat. The boy was angry at himself, angry for crying like a child angry that he felt so vulnerable. He knew his father was sick but didn’t know how quickly it would turn so bad. Shiloh regretted throwing a rock at the barn owl that had just swooped by in the dark and that is why he was out so far from his house. He was looking for the bird, it had let out a startled sound that was like a surprised human cry. Shiloh hoped the owl wasn’t injured, or, he shuddered. Climbing over some fallen trees he searched for it, his jeans and shoes were becoming soaked from wading through the sea of ferns. He had lost track of time and wasn’t sure how long he’d been outside. Shiloh Jensen Jr, he thought to himself grimly, now with his father gone he would stop being called Jr at the age of fourteen. He knew he really depended on his parents but now he would have to grow into a man that his mother could stable her raw nerves on. The youth hoped his mother didn’t realize that he was out here, she’d worry, probably she thought he was in his room alone with his thoughts which had become his habit after finishing his chores and homework. The moonlight seemed to beckon him further and further out into an open field after he’d walked through a stand of poplars. Looking wearily up at the night sky he could see the stars, not as bright as usual as they were being outshone by the full moon. Was he up there, somewhere past the sky? Shiloh wondered. He really believed in Heaven but like his mother he worried about things he couldn’t see. He’d looked all over their property and beyond for the owl, he would just go a little further and then, regrettably have to turn back. Some rocks were on the far side by some scraggly bushes and as he walked his left foot slipped down a hole. A sharp pain jolted up his leg, he gasped from the shock of it. He was able to free his leg from the hole, no doubt the home of some sort of rodent. Shiloh began to shake, startled and in pain he walked a few steps and had to sit down right away. His mind was reeling. He’d hurt himself before but this seemed worse. After a moment of trying to calm himself he remembered to tighten his shoe laces on his injured ankle. With resolve he turned homeward. The rain had started to fall again, he looked for a branch circumspectly but had to limp along slowly for awhile. At least the pulsating sensation of his ankle pulled his thoughts away from his grief. After maybe twenty minutes had gone by he looked up to realize he didn’t recognize where he was. Usually he’d had a pretty good sense of direction and made him uneasy that his mind had been so absorbed that he had lost his way. The rain was coming down now more rapidly and the unease inside himself was rising. Feeling more foolish than before he looked around for a landmark, something he recognized. If he couldn’t get back to his house soon he’d have to get in the shelter of some of the trees near him. Finally the clouds seemed to have rained themselves out and the sky cleared again. Shiloh heard a rustling and then the soft shrill sound of the owl flying by. The bird swooped down by him. Startled Shiloh almost lost his balance. The owl lighted on a branch and seemed to look back at him, then the bird flew on slowly. It must be leading me back home, Shiloh thought to himself.
By Sarah Lowe4 years ago in Families
On Wings Laden With Memories
As she lay quietly in bed, one shallow breath from dozing into that peaceful reprieve from all the sadness of the prior three days, she was startled awake with a gasp. The unmistakable screech of a barn owl pealed so sharply and closely that she caught herself frozen, afraid to move for fear that it had somehow gotten inside her bedroom. After what seemed like an eternity but had only been mere seconds, she mustered the determination to sit up quickly in bed and turn on the bedside lamp, still holding her breath with the expectation of finding herself face to face with the creature. After surveying the room and finding that, thankfully, she was not being watched over by the huge eyes of an owl, she moved cautiously toward her window, pulled back the curtain and immediately felt her heart drop into her stomach when she was met by the glare of the old fellow perched on the lowest limb of the old oak tree outside. He was sitting there gazing at her as if he’d been sent there specifically to deliver some secret message that was only intended for her. She felt her heart begin to race, right along with her superstitious mind and forced herself to lie back down although she could not bring herself to turn off the lamp: even as an 18 year old in college, she had always had to sleep with a light on for fear of what the darkness might hide. Moments later, almost as if the owl had detected her absence from the window, she heard it screech again then heard a thud against the outside of her house. It startled her so badly this time that she found herself considering if death might just be better.
By Tammy Grace4 years ago in Families
In The Distance
Where do you go from here? How does a child become so lost in thought? Now he has your attention. What could be so wrong? I have hundreds of questions, but decide to watch him for a while. I need to know how I can help him. So with that, I watch. He must of stayed there an hour. A child’s journey in finding himself. That night as we had dinner, Chad talks of being alone. With family being all around him. But, that’s not the kind of alone he was talking about. I asked him if he felt alone and he replied, no. When we die we are all alone, is what he was thinking. We talked about heaven. He asked, does everyone have there own heaven? How do you mean? Is heaven what each person thinks it is. Is that the place they go to? You know what, I have never thought of that before. I think of living in my higher powers house with family that has pasted away. Chad wanted How do we know if they think of us, when there gone? I told him about my search for loved ones who had passed. In my search, I found a story of dragonflies. I was told of a beautiful saying that when a dragonfly was near, you have a visitor of someone who has passed away. They are checking on you. With that I told him the loved ones we have losts have not gone away, they fly beside you everyday. However, maybe your signs are different. It’s what you believe. With wide open eyes here comes a smile.
By Kathryn Stephens4 years ago in Families
November 16th
Had you some sense of empathy, you might have asked why my head was on my desk. I wouldn’t have painted you the full picture, but a shortened, easier-to-sleep-at-night summary so that you would understand and felt satisfied with the decision to leave quiet girls alone with their heads on their desk.
By Jennifer Laurel Robertson Boone4 years ago in Families
A letter to my angel
PA, I often come across the topic of “who is your hero”, and for twenty years I have always had the same answer. It’s simple, it’s you. There will come a time where my days without you will outweigh my days with you, but the answer will still stay the same. It will always be you.
By Louise Shaw4 years ago in Families
A Welcome Haunting
'My Dad said that if he could, he'd come back to me after he died, and he never has.' This was the reason I gave when my six-year-old daughter Olivia asked me why I didn't believe in ghosts, while I was tucking her into bed at our holiday cabin in the woods. Her scrunched-up worried face relaxed a little as she thought through my logic. I stroked her fluffy blonde hair to soothe her - she was always scared to sleep at first when we took a trip up here, but once we'd got through the first night she'd be fine. She closed her eyes and her body softened as the fear of forest ghouls drifted away and sleep started to settle on her. She took me a little by surprise when she asked, eyes still closed:
By Dorianne Woolfe4 years ago in Families
Miscarriage Story
It’s like when you first turn out the light for bed. You can’t see what’s in front of you. All you can do is stumble your way under the covers. And it can be unsettling, uncomfortable, or even a bit scary having your sense of sight gone just like that. This is where most people go to sleep. They close their eyes and drift away into the sand. Now imagine that grief is insomnia. It keeps you from drifting away. You stay, very awake, in the dark. Firmly tethered to reality. Some even go mad. They drive themselves crazy, or even turn the light back on, refusing to acknowledge the dark. But if you sit in the dark long enough you’re eyes adjust. There’s a faint blue hue that slips over your eyes and softens the atmosphere around you.
By Rowan Flores4 years ago in Families
