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 Last Escalator. Content Warning.
I created this. I wrote this. Edited in Word with, edited in Movie Maker Pro. The video was recorded by a camera on my PC. I used Clip Champ for transfer of video to that app and to Moviemaker. Since I had issues with Clip Champ, came to my rescue. This is part of,
By Vicki Lawana Trusselli 7 months ago in Families
i die everyday without you
i like to doubt my love for you because it makes me feel bad about myself, and when i feel bad about myself i can focus on me and not you and the fact that you’re gone, and i can torture myself with fixating on all my own mistakes and regrets and my shameful actions and my lies and maybe for a few moments i can escape you and your memory that haunts me like a ghost that i can’t quite see, because maybe i don’t deserve to see you, and if i don’t deserve you maybe that’s why you’re not here, and if you were here maybe you wouldn’t love me if you knew me, and if you didn’t love me and i loved you maybe it would hurt and ache like fucking hell but it would also make sense, but maybe it’s not possible that your love would have ever died if you hadn’t, and what’s possible now is even scarier, and it’s that you are nothing and nowhere to feel anything about me or anyone else you loved, and in believing you are nothing and nowhere and gone, wiped away like an afterthought from this earth, then i fucking hate this earth and everything on it, and the rage within me boils at the world for taking you from me, and from my mother, and from my thoughts without these tears forming every time without fail, because i can’t think about you even now without crying, even now i am not free to think of you in any happy light in a meaningful and true and genuine way because even though we had so much happiness with you, we lost it all when we lost you, and i lost everything you taught me, it all fell out of my brain like mush, and i started to forget myself, and my kindness, and my grace and my patience, and my love, and how to love, and how to act and respect myself and respect others and be myself, be genuine, embrace the pain, i just couldn’t do any of it because none of it mattered like it used to, because you’re gone now, and i love you, and even if i never deserved your love, i always had it and i always will, and i know it, and you will always have my love for you and my heart too, and i don’t even have to say that because i know it’s true and if you’re not nothing and nowhere, i know you know it’s true too, and it isn’t even worth saying at this point because of how very true it is, and sometimes i feel crazy and alight with the force of missing you and loving you, and sometimes i feel like it never goes away, the pain and the hurt, and i can’t quite shake the feeling of emptiness thinking of the chairs you sat in, the beds you slept in, sleeping next to you on vacation listening to you snoring, thinking of the last time i ever laid by your side, the last time i got to hug you, the last time i saw you, and i want to slap myself senseless for not holding you for just a moment longer, just a little closer, but strangely i remember that last hug we had and i remember the love i put into it, and i remember that something felt somewhat strange and off and i couldn’t put my finger on exactly why, maybe i hadn’t seen you in a while before that, which means probably only a few weeks because i saw you all the time, or maybe i knew somehow or some way that i should hug you with extra love that day, and i am glad i did, and i miss you so much that i can hardly stand it, and i don’t know what to do or where to turn or how to unpack how i feel and have always felt, and when people ask if i was close with any of my grandparents, i say yes, i was close to my grandma, my mom’s mom, when really i want to say, i don’t want to talk about it, or, my grandma was everything to me, and she’s gone now, and shut the fuck up about her because i sure do, because i can’t say two goddamn words about her without crying my eyes out at 23 even though you passed when i was 12, more than half my age now, and it’s scary that i don’t know where you are or if you’re still out there somewhere, because of course i want to believe that, and i think you believed that, but i don’t know what i believe, i just know what i want to be true, and that scares me because what i want is rarely real and tangible and good enough to be true, and i just feel sad right now thinking about you and what could have been, and about the life you deserved, and about the years stolen from you, and i want to know what you would tell me to do, i want to hear from you, i want a sign, or a symbol or a word, and i know it’s greedy but i want you to tell me it’s all okay and that you love me and that you’re proud of who i’ve become, and i want to know it’s okay to miss you and mourn you, and that it’s okay when i’m not missing you and mourning you too, that it’s okay to try to move on the best i can without you here, even though it’s hard, even though it makes me think about how i’m ever going to deal with the other tragedies at hand in this life, and i don’t think i’m equipped to handle them well at all, but i will handle them, i think, as i handled saying goodbye to you, in the only way i can.
By angela hepworth7 months ago in Families
Restless Waves: A Journey Through the Tides of Grief.
Authors Note: I wrote this piece in response to two questions I was asked about grief—specifically the kind that comes in waves, unexpected and overwhelming. This is my honest attempt to put those feelings into words and to offer something meaningful to anyone who's navigating their own ocean of loss. If you're grieving, I hope this meets you where you are.
By April Kirby.7 months ago in Families
When Paradise Turns Deadly: A Kerala Family's Kenyan Nightmare
The WhatsApp messages started like they always do. Excited emojis. Photos of packed suitcases. "Finally leaving Qatar for our Eid holiday!" The kind of messages that make you smile when you see them in family groups, especially when you know how hard these expatriate families work to afford these precious moments together.
By Fathima Haniffa7 months ago in Families
The Chest of Patience
When a simple wooden chest becomes the silent witness of a lifelong love, grief, and quiet strength, a story unfolds — one of patience, resilience, and memory. Inspired by true events, this is a tribute to the quiet heroes of everyday life.
By Constandinos Olymbios7 months ago in Families
Why We Finally Decided to Try Couples Counseling in New York
One couple's journey into therapy, the turning points that led us there, and why we chose Relationshipsandmore.com I never imagined we’d be the couple who needed counseling.
By Jonathan Riedel7 months ago in Families
Blood is Thicker Than Water
Blood is Thicker Than Water They were born three minutes apart, howling into the world like they already had something to prove. Jake and Tommy Miller — twin brothers with matching green eyes and opposite hearts. Where Jake was fire, Tommy was stone. Jake wanted out. Tommy held on.
By Marie381Uk 8 months ago in Families
Between Her Prayers and My Dreams. AI-Generated.
The first thing I ever heard in this world wasn’t the doctor’s voice or my father’s cheer — it was her prayer. My mother used to tell me, “You cried as if the world hurt you the moment you arrived. But I whispered a verse, and you quieted like you understood it.”
By rayyan8 months ago in Families
The Mezhevyi Family – Separated by War in Ukraine
When war breaks out, the first victims are often not soldiers, but families—ordinary people forced to navigate extraordinary trauma. The Mezhevyi family of Mariupol, Ukraine, is a heart-wrenching example of how war tears families apart, not just geographically but emotionally. Their story illustrates the brutal effects of the Russian invasion of Ukraine and the undying strength of a father’s love for his children.
By Solomon Ebenezer8 months ago in Families
Dear Adam,
Cuz, One of my first friend's One of my favorite cousins as a child. One of my dearest protectors now. I'm finally writing this.
By Jennidoll of (jennidoll.inc)8 months ago in Families
The Hidden Hand. They Say it’s Free But It’s not. Mental Judos Which are Used to Play with your Psyche
Have your ever witnessed buying something unplanned and then regretting later? How the brands play with you? Let’s explore from the story of Emma. She starts checking her work emails and ends up buying unnecessary things.
By Sajid 8 months ago in Families
Runway And The River of Tears
The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the skyline of Islamabad. The International Airport buzzed with the frantic energy of travelers rushing between gates and security checks, some with excitement in their eyes, others with dread. Among the crowds, two figures stood in stark contrast to the chaos around them: Zeeshan and Waqas, standing near the departure gates, deep in conversation, though words seemed few. Zeeshan was wearing a grey jacket, his usual smile replaced by a quiet seriousness. His bag, packed for his journey, rested by his side. Waqas, taller and more composed, had a look of melancholy about him that seemed to contrast his otherwise calm demeanor. They had been friends for years—inseparable since their college days. But now, as Zeeshan was about to board a flight that would take him to a foreign land to work, everything felt different. The airport had never felt so cold, so distant. “I can’t believe you’re actually leaving, man,” Waqas said, his voice tight as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Zeeshan sighed, his hand running through his hair. “I know. I wish it weren’t like this, but you know I have to go. It’s a good opportunity, Waqas. For both of us.” “But it doesn’t make it any easier, does it?” Waqas asked. His eyes, usually so steady and composed, were betraying his emotions now. “We’ve been through so much together. How do you expect me to be okay with this?” Zeeshan looked down at the ground, his throat tightening. He wanted to tell Waqas how much he would miss him, but the words caught in his chest. There was so much to say, so much to feel. Saying goodbye was never easy, but this? This felt like an ache that wouldn’t go away. “You know I hate this, right?” Zeeshan said quietly. “But I have to. This is my future, Waqas. We’ve always had our plans, but plans change. You of all people should understand that.” Waqas clenched his jaw. He did understand, but that didn’t make the pain of separation any easier. The thought of not seeing Zeeshan’s face at their favorite coffee shop, not hearing his sarcastic jokes, not sharing in their late-night talks about the future—these thoughts cut deep. “I don’t know if I can do this, Zeeshan,” Waqas admitted, his voice shaking slightly. “I don’t want to lose you. What if everything changes? What if you come back different? What if… what if this is it? What if this is goodbye for good?” Zeeshan reached out, placing a hand on Waqas’s shoulder. “It’s not goodbye, Waqas. It’s just… a pause. A break. We’ll make this work. I’ll come back. I promise.” But even as he said the words, Zeeshan felt the weight of them. He wasn’t sure if they were promises he could keep. The future was an unknown, and no matter how much they tried to control their destinies, life had a way of changing everything in the blink of an eye. Waqas shook his head, a single tear escaping his eye, betraying the stoic expression he tried so hard to maintain. “I just want things to stay the way they are. But I know they won’t. And I guess I just don’t know how to deal with that.” The tears that fell from Waqas’s eyes seemed to mirror the heaviness Zeeshan felt in his own chest. He wanted to tell Waqas that everything would be okay, but how could he? How could he promise that when he wasn’t sure himself? Instead, he gave his friend a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t be like this,” Zeeshan said softly. “We’ll still be here for each other. No matter how far apart we are. You’re my best friend, Waqas. And nothing changes that. Nothing.” Waqas looked up, meeting Zeeshan’s eyes. There was a rawness in his gaze, a vulnerability that neither of them had ever shown before. The moment felt timeless, like the world had paused around them. “Promise me one thing,” Waqas said, his voice hoarse. “Promise me we won’t lose touch. That this won’t be the end of us.” Zeeshan smiled, but it was a smile tinged with sadness. “I promise,” he said, holding Waqas’s gaze. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” The intercom crackled to life, announcing that the flight to London was now boarding. Zeeshan’s heart skipped a beat. The moment was here. He could feel his stomach twist with the nervous excitement of embarking on something new, but also with the deep sadness of leaving behind everything familiar. “I guess this is it then,” Zeeshan said, stepping back, his hand lingering in the air between them. Waqas looked at him, eyes now full of unshed tears. His lips quivered, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. The weight of the moment said it all. Zeeshan hugged Waqas one last time, the embrace lingering longer than either of them had expected. The two friends stood there in the middle of the airport, as the world rushed by them, oblivious to the moment of farewell unfolding. The only sounds were the soft murmurs of people moving around them, and the gentle beat of their hearts. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” Zeeshan whispered against Waqas’s ear. Waqas pulled away, nodding but unable to speak. He didn’t trust his voice to stay steady. Zeeshan gave him one final smile before turning toward the gate. His footsteps echoed in the empty space, the sound oddly hollow in the bustling terminal. Every step felt like it carried the weight of a thousand memories—laughter, adventures, arguments, quiet moments. The road ahead was uncertain, and yet, there was something about the unknown that pulled him forward. Waqas stood still, watching his best friend walk away. The airport terminal seemed to blur around him as the tears flowed freely now, the dam that had been holding them back finally breaking. He turned to face the vastness of the terminal, but the emptiness felt overwhelming, like the weight of the world had suddenly landed on his shoulders. A lifetime of memories flashed before his eyes—moments of joy, and moments of quiet understanding. In an instant, he realized that life wasn’t about holding on to the past but about embracing the future. But no matter how much he Tried to convince himself, the ache in his chest didn’t lessen. Zeeshan’s figure grew smaller and smaller, the distance between them widening. The tears he had fought to hold back were now streaming down his face, as he whispered to himself, “I’ll wait for you. I’ll always wait for you.” As Zeeshan passed through the gate, he turned around one last time, catching a glimpse of Waqas standing alone, his shoulders hunched, his face wet with tears. For a moment, Zeeshan felt a sharp pang in his heart. It hurt to see his friend in pain, but it also reminded him of why he was doing this—why he had to leave. The plane was waiting, but so was the promise. A promise of coming back. A promise of not letting go. As the doors to the plane closed, Zeeshan sat down in his seat, looking out the window at the runway—the river of tears that had been spilled that night. It felt like a boundary between their past and future, a place where everything was both final and yet somehow still open, still waiting to be written. And so, with a deep breath and a heavy heart, Zeeshan took off into the sky. The runway below him, the river of tears behind him, and the journey ahead was just beginning. But in his heart, the one thing he knew was certain: no matter where he went, Waqas would always be there—waiting, just like he promised. The tears would eventually stop. The distance would fade. But true friendship? That never ends.
By Sajid 8 months ago in Families