We never truly get over a loss, but we can move forward and evolve from it.

Death—the last sleep? No, it is the final awakening.

How do you go on knowing that you will never again—not ever, ever—see the person you have loved? How do you survive a single hour, a single minute, a single second of that knowledge? How do you hold yourself together?

Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality.

When someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure.

I still loved Granny. It flowed out of my chest. With Granny gone, where would my love go?

Grief is the ultimate unrequited love. However hard and long we love someone who has died, they can never love us back. At least that is how it feels….

Closed eyes, heart not beating, but a living love.

The weird, weird thing about devastating loss is that life actually goes on. When you’re faced with a tragedy, a loss so huge that you have no idea how you can live through it, somehow, the world keeps turning, the seconds keep ticking.

Tears are God’s gift to us. Our holy water. They heal us as they flow.

Losing people you love affects you. It is buried inside of you and becomes this big, deep hole of ache. It doesn’t magically go away, even when you stop officially mourning.

Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight, how it holds you in place

The hardest thing that I’ve ever had to hear was that my child died. The hardest thing that I’ve ever done is to love live every day since that moment

If tears could build a stairway,
And memories a lane,
I’d walk right up to Heaven
And bring you home again.

If tears could build a stairway and memories a lane, I’d walk right up to heaven and bring you home again.

Don’t grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form.

No matter how crazy and funny the scene’s around you, it is useless without the person you want to laugh with.

It’s easier to miss her at a cemetery, where she’s never been anything but dead, than to miss her at all the places where she was alive.

An angel opened the book of life and wrote down my baby’s birth. And whispered as she closed it “Too beautiful for earth.

I wonder if my first breath was as soul-stirring to my mother as her last breath was to me.