Its My Grief Community

Its My Grief Community Welcome to your safe place to grieve, scream, cry, or just need others to witness your pain & loss.

01/14/2025

Some great advice for those who wish to help someone struggling!
Shared this last year after seeing it from Polka.dot.queen.

Grief Groceries!
I saw this letter today- as a funeral directors son, I have been around this for years. This is some of the best advice I have ever seen.

“Hey there, Thanks for writing. I’m really glad your friend has you in her life.

I get it. Grief is a funny thing. It’s the time in our life when we most need help, and also the time when asking for help is so hard. Not because we are ashamed to ask for help, although that happens sometimes too. But mostly because our brain just sort of shuts down.

When my Dad died, I looked functional. But I wasn’t OK. Not at all. And when the news got out, the ton of people flooding me with calls, texts, and DM’s was overwhelming. I really couldn’t function. I sat on the swing in our yard and just stared into space. People called and asked what they could do to help. I had no idea.

“Well, anything you need at all, let me know, OK?”

“OK”.

They hung up. I stared into space some more.

I had no idea what to do. What I needed. I didn’t even know what to ask for.

Then a friend sent a text. This friend had met Dad once but didn’t really know him. But still, she knew I was hurting. I saw who it was and almost put the phone down without reading the text, but I saw the message and it stopped me:

Will you be home at 8:30 tonight?

What’s weird is this friend lives 12 hours away from me.

Yes, I replied.

“K.”

10 minutes later, she said, “Instacart will be there at 8:30. Open the door for them.”

“What?”

“Grief Groceries.!!”

When Instacart showed up, they put two large bags of groceries on my porch. Frozen pizzas. Ice cream. Oreo cookies. Tinned soup. Stouffer’s lasagna. A gallon of milk. Like that. Things I could heat up if I needed a meal, or pig out on if I needed fat and sugar. Sometimes, you just need to eat half a box of Oreos.

Notice she didn’t ask if I needed any food. I would have said no. She just asked if I would be home.

Grief groceries.

Another friend, who lives out of town, asked Renee to name a restaurant near our house where we like to eat. There is a local chain near our house that is sort of a deli. When we eat supper there, we spend about $25. Renee told her the name of the place.

An hour later, there was a gift card in my inbox for $250. Yes, that is a lot of money, and I understand not everyone can do that. But the wonderful thing was that because it was enough for multiple meals, we didn’t try to save it for “the right time”. We ate there that night, and take out from there several times a week for the next month on nights when I just didn’t have the spoons to cook.

Both of those gift-givers knew something I didn’t know – that when you are grieving, you don’t want to make decisions. No, that’s not quite it: You can’t make decisions. You hit decision fatigue really fast.

So, I guess what I’m saying is, don’t ask grieving people to make big choices or decisions. “How can I help” is a big choice. But “Can I take the kids this afternoon so you can have some time to yourself” is a much smaller one. “Will you be home tonight?” is a small choice. “What restaurant do you like” is a small decision. Just showing up to cut their grass because you noticed it needed cutting is loads better than asking, “Do you want me to cut the grass?” Or, “I’m going to Target. What can I get you while I’m there?” is better than “Can I run any errands for you?”

It won’t always be like this. If you stick around, eventually they will surface and ways to be helpful will make themselves known. But in the first few days, especially, it helps to remove as many decisions from their plate as you can!”

Original Words from: Hugh Hollowell Jr.

08/17/2024
07/19/2024

7th of June Anne Wilson

06/19/2024

I’m leaving you here. For one night I want to forget. And maybe smile.
Grief: You can’t leave me behind.
I’m tired. You are heavy. Sometimes you are just too much to bear.
Grief: I am a part of you now.
I can shut the door. Forget you for a few hours.
Grief. That is not how this works. I will always catch up to you.
Why are you doing this to me? It’s not fair. You are much too dark to take everywhere I go.
Grief: Maybe we need another way to think about this.
How would there be any other way?
Grief: Well..for starters, I am only here because of love.
No. You are here because my loved one died.
Grief: But you still feel love.
Always.
Grief: You just renamed me. That is why I am here. I am Love always. You can’t just leave me. I’m a part of you.
But it hurts so much. No more phone calls. Hugs... Plans. Empty chairs. Holidays… I can’t take this pain.
Grief. Running from me only makes it harder for you. Sit with me. I am only the love you still have to give. So feel it. Give some of it to yourself. Carry me with you. Picture me as only love and light.
So why have I been so afraid of you?
Grief. Because reality is hard to accept. This is the hardest thing to do. It takes time to get used to me. But I am here to help you remember.
I just want to be over this.
Grief: The pain you feel when a memory crosses your mind will someday make you smile. It’s because the longer you carry me with you…the wonderful memories will stay with you too.
So instead of carrying grief…I can think of it as carrying my love?
Grief: light a candle within me. Love isn’t dark. I’m only light. I remain because all your love your person still remains in you. I am love you wish to still give. I cannot be left behind. I carry on with you until the day you reunite.
So hold that light in your hand. And carry that love with you. To the very last of days.

Posted by Rhonda Coffey

From the moment we learned what happened and still now, I’ve felt like I’ve been living in this strange alternate univer...
05/27/2024

From the moment we learned what happened and still now, I’ve felt like I’ve been living in this strange alternate universe.

Empowering counseling to help you achieve your goals

10/29/2023

I stood by your bed last night; I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying; you found it hard to sleep.
I spoke to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
"It's me, I haven't left you, I'm well, I'm fine, I'm here."
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the tea,
You were thinking of the many things and memories of me.
I was with you at the shops today; your arms were getting sore.
I longed to take your parcels, I wish I could do more.
I was with you at my grave today; you tend it with such care.
I want to re-assure you, that I'm not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house, as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my hand on you; I smiled and said, "it's me."
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair.
I tried so hard to let you know, that I was standing there.
It's possible for me, to be so near you everyday.
To say to you with certainty, "I never went away."
You sat there very quietly, then smiled, I think you knew...
in the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over... I smile and watch you yawning
and say "good-night, God bless, I'll see you in the morning."
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I'll rush across to greet you and we'll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out...then come home to me.

Author Colleen Fitzsimmons

Address

Murfreesboro, TN

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Its My Grief Community posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Contact The Practice

Send a message to Its My Grief Community:

Share