Sooo, today I got a call from the funeral home saying my mother's remains are ready to be picked up. I went, picked up the little black box with her ashes, and came back home, made some coffee in her honor. I placed that box on the table and sobbed like a baby for several minutes. (I'm amazed I managed to hold back my tears until I got home)

I don't have enough money for an urn, and I certainly didn't want to keep her in the original box. Now I have my mother's old canister set from the 70s. There's a tall one she kept coffee in, so I decided to put her remains in the canister 😂 I cried and laughed at the same time, and I know she would have gotten a kick out of that, too!

She LOVED her coffee, AND that canister set! She's had it for as long as I can remember, and I'm in my 30s. I called my sister. At first she was like "Omg!!" But then we laughed and laughed.

It's only temporary until I can buy mom an urn. Anyway, just thought I'd share that. I'm wrecked emotionally and mentally, yet I'm happy she's with me at home. In her favourite canister. I love you, Mum... and I'll miss visiting with you, having coffee. 🕊❤️‍🩹

it’s been about 4 months now.

I thought it almost appropriate to be a Zombie Bride since my fiance died. Halloween has been a somber affair for me since 2012. He died a week before Halloween so every October tends to be a painful time of year for me. Friends convinced me to do a bar crawl so I went to Goodwill and bought a wedding gown for $30. The wedding dress my fiance helped me pick out is still safely packed away with his clothes. I would never defile it like I did this gown. My groom is dead, I feel dead - so this really isn't a costume so much as a portrayal of how I feel. Even 14 yrs later. A living dead girl.

My dad would have turned 80 today, and falling asleep knowing I can’t wish him a happy birthday is unbearable.

My old man passed away back in May this year from an incredibly aggressive cancer. So aggressive that it’s hard to believe that just last October, we were celebrating his 79th birthday at a Greek restaurant. He looked rather well, happy, alert, and full of joy and energy, despite already having gone through his first few rounds of chemo. You can literally see it in the photo, which was exactly a year ago…

And today, for the first time in my life, I’m going to sleep on this day of the year without having heard his voice.

When I was living abroad, he’d always stay awake because he knew I’d call to wish him a happy birthday. And what makes it even harder is that I’ve now moved back home to Germany. Had he still been here, I would have seen him tomorrow.

But I also know that, despite how much it hurts, I’m giving my dad exactly what he would have wanted today: I’m thinking of him.

He never expected or wanted presents or anything fancy for his birthday. All he ever really wanted was to know we were thinking of him and to spend some quality time together.

And how I wish I could have that time with him just once more. To be back at that Greek restaurant, or anywhere really, celebrating him for being the best dad I could have wished for. Celebrating him for simply being… there. Because coming to think of it, that’s what truly mattered.

Of course, he wasn’t perfect. But who really is? He was our dad, and he did everything he could to give us a brighter future. That’s what matters to me.

I’m fortunate to have my cats, my partner, my mum and my brothers. They’re truly my world. And my friends, although most of them are still abroad (I spent most of my adulthood in the UK before moving back to Germany), have also been an enormous source of support.

I know I’m not alone, and I know I have so much to be grateful for. But that doesn’t stop me from wishing I could hear his voice just one more time.

So I want to end this post by saying:

Happy 80th birthday, Dad.

This post is partly a way for me to vent, but more importantly, it’s a celebration of the person my dad was, the love he gave us, and the place he’ll always have in our lives.

I miss you, old man.

I lost my son to suicide a little over three years ago. It’s been the most heart-wrenching, painful experience of my life. I live with it every day. Reading and support groups have helped, and I’m healing, even if it’s slow.

I still cringe when I hear the phrase “committed suicide.” To me, it makes it sound like the person committed a crime. We don’t say someone “committed” cancer or any other illness. The word “committed,” when tied to an action, brings up things like fraud, murder, or other wrongdoing. That’s why the phrase feels so painful and just wrong to me.

For me, the phrase “committed suicide” adds to the stigma that already surrounds suicide. It feels harsh and judgmental. I much prefer “died by suicide” or “took their own life,” which feel more humane and kinder.

I’m curious how others feel about this. Have you noticed this too, or do you think the language matters?

So my mother passed away last year and today we were given her urn ([Other family member] had it for a while). With her urn here, I've just been thinking of all the stuff I've wanted to tell her about, and share with her--tiny things like shows I wished we could've watched together that aired after she passed, interests I've wanted to share with her, etc--and so I've just been casually talking to her urn today as though it's her. I mean, her ashes are inside, duh, but she's passed. I know she can't hear me.

But despite this I've just been going on small tangents like I used to when we'd just hang out "Oh, let's watch [Show], you'd really love it, I'll start it from the beginning", "Oh so earlier this year I got really into [Book], lemme tell you my favorite character", etc. I mean...is this normal? It feels...I don't wanna say silly, 'cause I'd talk to my mom like this when she was alive but I mean.

Does anyone else do this?

My wedding is on Halloween. We were just over a year apart. He was my only sibling.

We slept in the same room together for our entire childhood. Sometimes in the same bed together if one of us was scared.

We were brothers. We fought. But there’s no one on this planet I loved more than him. I didn’t talk to him every day or anything. In fact I found his personality somewhat abrasive - and I’m antisocial as it is. If push came to shove however, he was always in my corner. No matter what. And I was in his.

But I loved him more than anyone on the planet. He was my built in best friend. I could have called him at 3 AM if I needed him and he would have driven 500 miles to help me, and the feeling was mutual.

I never had grand ideas of a wedding as a boy. It’s not really something little boys typically fantasize about, you know? But one thing I was always sure of was that he was my best man. Because he was. He was the most important man in my life. My brother. Through thick & thin. Through fists, through hugs, through shouts, through every “love you” at the end of a phone call - he was my brother.

And now he’s gone. A week before my wedding.

We are proceeding with the wedding as I know he’d be upset if I let something like his death derail my life. He’d want me to keep pushing. Be strong. Be his big brother. He pushed me and I pushed him. We made eachother better.

I’m giving my own best man speech in his honor. I don’t want the wedding to be a funeral. But that’s the only part of a wedding I ever wanted. I know he loved me, but I wanted him to give a sincere best man speech and really offer his love…and he would have. Those sincere moments don’t come often enough between men in life. We knew our places in each others lives. There was no need to be overly expressive…or at least, that’s what we thought.

I loved him. More than anyone. And it’s not even close. I’ll miss him for the rest of my life. When my parents die. When my child is born. Every one of his birthdays. Every holiday. I’ll think of his absence.

I’ll miss my built-in-best friend. And the reality of that hits only a week after his death whilst I’m celebrating the beginning of a new life with my soon-to-be wife.

It’s honestly comedic, in the sick Shakespearean tragedy way. My stubborn dickhead of a brother who was notoriously reliable when you needed him managed to lose his life just a week before I really needed him.

I don’t believe in anything religious, but he found god in the last few years. And I hope he was right about it. Because id love to see him again when it’s all said in done.

Hi all, my dearest father was diagnosed with stage 4 terminal cancer about 4 weeks ago (small cell lung, spread to his brain and spine) and given a very short prognosis. He’s made the decision to do VAD (voluntary assisted dying) program, so I will be losing him very soon. I 100% support his decision, as although he’s in a wheelchair and needs 24/7 care, cognitively he is still the same dad I remember and I feel strangely thankful I’m able to preserve him in this way. He wishes to go peacefully, surrounded by his loved ones and has accepted his illness (he is optimistic to a fault at times lol). I understand not everyone will understand or even support VAD, so if comments can be respect and kind please 🙏🏽

I love my dad so much, and the thought of losing him is destroying me. The best way I can explain is like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff. As the days pass, I’m getting closer to the edge and I’m looking down knowing within less than 10 days, I’ll be free falling. I’ve never experienced grief before, so it feels like torture my first time it being a parent. I’m constantly anxious, shutting down, sometimes I get so mad, then so, so down. I have no friends, and my family are also going through it so support feels limited.

If anyone reading this has gone through a similar experience, firstly I am so sorry. I welcome any guidance or words ✨🤍

That’s it. Leaving the cemetery is a different kind of hurt. It’s like my heart is breaking over and over again, and I don’t know why. It just sucks. It sucks so bad. And what sucks even more is that I feel so bad everytime I leave the cemetery. I don’t mean to leave him alone, but I can’t stay forever. I just want him to know that I’m there with him, always and ever.

Everytime I leave, I remember everything. The day I found out. Feeling numb. Feeling sick to my stomach.

Even now, when out and about, I look for my friend, wondering where he is, only to remember he’s not here.

Sometimes I wonder if he gets cold at night in his grave, if he ever gets lonely.

I miss my friend. And this vent makes no sense. Grief makes no sense. One day I’m happy when remembering my friend, the next im in tears at his grave.

I still have photos of him, videos of him, of me and our friends together, and it’s almost like he’s looking at me from beyond the grave; which sounds weird, but everytime I look photos of him, I get an eerie feeling.

Days go by and I just sit there, and wait, for people to ask what he was like. His story deserves to be told.

But I understand why he did it. He was ridiculed. Picked down to nothing.

...On a winding two lane road in the Appalachian mountains. No shoulder, sheer rock on one side and a dropoff down the mountain on the other. Two vehicle coming towards him, the first brakes to avoid something in the road, and the lifted truck tailgater swings out into the oncoming lane, either to go around or to avoid hitting the first car, and smashes head-on into my dad's much smaller Fiat.

And I'm just so angry. I want to find out who this person is. I want to know if they witnessed my dad die in front of their eyes and whether they'll THINK the next time they get into that dumb as fuck lifted clownmobile about whether their impatience is worth it. I want to know if they recognize someone died because of THEIR actions or if they just make excuses for themselves like the arrogant, entitled pricks they are.

....And I know that's not fair. Most of us have gotten impatient and swerved around someone or tailgated. But I just want someone to blame and some outlet for this hurt and there's just nothing I can do but scream into the Reddit void.

My mom died suddenly- I live across the country and had to fly in. She was already on life support but brain dead, so I got to say goodbye, but there’s no sense of finality.

How do I deal with the fact that I’m 24, and have to live without my mom for the rest of my life? How do I deal with the fact I didn’t have any chance to truly say goodbye? I didn’t have a memorable last conversation, I didn’t get any last moment. She didn’t hear me tell her I loved her one last time.

I am just so confused. It was so sudden and unexpected and we were supposed to have so much time together.

Lost my brother to suicide.

We grew up together, spent more time together than anyone else on this planet. He was kind, gentle, smart and humorous.

We lived slightly tough when we were teens, survived on benefits and odd jobs.

We eventually got great careers, enough savings not to have to worry about money. He moved overseas for better opportunities, and from occassional calls he seemed to have been doing great.

One day, i get back home and find two police man. My brother passed away, took his own life.

I thought I knew him enough to know to intervene, I was so close to being there around that time. Maybe it could've been different then.

It was my birthday couple days ago, and all i can think about is of him, and all the days he's missed out, and will miss out.

God I miss him.

Its been two weeks since my mom passed suddenly & unexpectedly so I'm still very new to this process but what I wish someone would have told me was about the weird limbo you find yourself in. I dont know what to do with myself. It's like I can't move forward but I can't sit still. The future seems pointless now like it's just counting down the days until I go too but at the same time I know I have to make plans and keep living. But I cant. I also feel like I'm waiting. I'm not sure if I'm waiting for her to come back or waiting to pass myself or what. I'm just in this weird spot and dont know what to do. On top of that it's like my mind know shes gone but my body doesnt. I have such a deep ache in my body to see her and its constantly there, quietly in the background but very much there. Everyone's went home now and the service has been concluded and its just so quite now. Still. I'm not married and no kids so it's just me here. Waiting and wanting to see my mom. It feels like time is somehow frozen but also moving forward at such a slow pace.

Like the title says, I lost my dad yesterday. I'm 26 years old, and I had moved back in with him because I wanted to help him maintain the house and take care of things.

It all happened so fast. There were no warning signs, nothing that could have prepared us for this.

He was supposed to retire this very week. He had just bought himself a new car, and only last weekend, we went to Tim Hortons together to get our usual iced coffees. Everything was so normal. We had plans. He had plans. He was supposed to have so much more time.

But yesterday was incredibly traumatic for me.

I accompanied him into the emergency room, where they were checking his heart. It was barely beating. I was there when my dad said, "I'm leaving now," and shortly afterward, he lost his pulse.

They tried to resuscitate him, but in the end, they couldn't bring him back.

I can't get those moments out of my head.

I miss him so much. I've been doing nothing but crying, throwing up, and lying around since it happened. I haven't been able to eat, and I feel completely exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I don't know how I'm supposed to get through this.

I'm still staying at his house, alone, because I need to take care of the property, our dog, and the horses.

But everything feels so empty now. So cold and unfamiliar. It's the same house I've been living in, with all his belongings still there, but he's not here anymore. And knowing that he's never coming home again is absolutely destroying me.

I feel so alone and scared. I don't even want to think about the future because I can't imagine it without him.

We're trying to prepare the funeral arrangements, but we end up crying at every step. Everything feels impossible right now.

I just want my dad back. I want things to go back to how they were a few days ago, when everything was still normal.

I don't really know what I'm looking for by posting this. Maybe comfort, maybe advice, or just to hear from people who understand what this kind of loss feels like.

How did you get through those first days after losing a parent, especially when it happened so suddenly?

I feel so lost.

Hi everyone,

I am trying to understand this phase of grief. I lost my mom to cancer about 6 months ago. I’m generally the kind of person who likes to keep my circle small and I hate small talk. When she passed I definitely went through a phase of not wanting to speak to anyone but I eventually replied. Now 6 months later, I’m doing so much better. I’m focused at work again, have plans to look forward to, I’m working out again. Overall I feel like I am coming out the other side. Of course there’s still hard moments. My daughter’s second birthday was hard and my phone flooded with texts. Some of which I have ignored for a month. I’m trying to understand this phase. I just don’t want to speak to people. Even my best friends. I’ve never been that close to my mum’s sisters and some of them keep texting me to ask how I am and I am so over it. The only people, other than my husband, that I genuinely enjoy talking to are my sisters. I video call them daily. Anyone else experience this phase of doing better but having no patience for all the smaller extended family obligations?

I don't care if it sounds bad but it's true atleast in my case. I am not blaming anyone, but no matter how much I deny, it affects you when you're going through hell and people around you are living their best life. I would never wish sorrow on other people but it just makes you wonder what you did to deserve this?

He was my everything. He died in a motorcycle accident with three daughters, ages 10-16. My mom is devastated. I don't know how to fall asleep. I just wanted to share him and his love.

My 16 year old cousin died yesterday morning after fighting for his life all night due to a motorbike crash.
Although i feel an enormous amount of pain (we were the only two cousins in our immediate family and had a sibling-like bond), i suddenly feel all responsibility to keep my aunt and uncle (and the rest of the family for that matter) from spiralling completely.
My uncle was driving the bike, and he got away without a scratch (metaphorically speaking).
I can’t think of a worse pain to endure. Seeing your promising, young and talented only son pass away so brutally, and on top of that being the one who was driving the vehicle that crashed.
I can’t even fathom the pain and guilt he’ll carry for the rest of his life.
Same thing goes for my aunt: a mother losing her child so early goes against every rational and natural law one could think of.
I want to be there for them always, but I have no idea how. Not only is it extremely hard to do and say the right thing, but i also live on the other side of the country. I’m on my way right now to visit my family but i’ll have to go home soon and that means i won’t be able to be there except maybe the one time a year im able to visit.

My pain is bearable right now. It’s huge, of course, but i seem to be able to dodge it for now. I’m not overwhelmed. Yet? I don’t know if im in the denial stage, or maybe it hasnt sunk in yet. Or maybe the physical distance that has always been between us during the school year means that even his death feels miles and miles away. Is it possible that this is as painful as it gonna get? Or will it inevitably get worse?
It’s my first time grieving over the passing of someone in my life (im 18), and the way I’ve been holding it together majority of the time since i found out really surprised me. I can’t tell if i’m stronger than i thought i was or if im still subconsciously in denial.

Any advice, suggestions or even comforting words are appreciated❤️‍🩹

My son passed away 5 months and 11 days ago. I turned his room into a memorial for him but have been going in there less and less recently. I’ve found that I can function (be there for my wife and our other 3 kids, go to work, etc) when I consciously focus on what I need to be doing each day. When I do this, my son’s death doesn’t dominate my thoughts and I’m not as sad/angry/confused, and just feel better. But I don’t want him to become a faded memory either. I think that’s why I turned his room into to a memorial but every time I go down there I break down and for the next week I struggle with severe depression. I’ve missed several days of work because I just can’t bring myself to do anything.

I’d like to know what other people do to keep their loved one’s memory alive and still be able to function. I know grief can last for a very long time but I thought I could keep myself from straight up ugly crying in my office by just looking at a clients name on a form that happens to be the same as my sons after 5 1/2 months. What helped you? How did you manage your crippling grief?

My son was 3 months old. He had just started smiling. He was perfect. And his heart stopped beating not long before we woke up. It was the most traumatic morning of our lives. We had to take turns doing cpr, then we got to the hospital and it felt like everything was in slow motion. I passed out when they said they had to stop trying to bring him back. The first year was like a pychosis, things were good we would cry together but ultimately felt so numb to reality. Then the second year was filled with so many ups and downs. Now the third year anger starts becoming the most prominent thing felt. He should be 4 at the end of the month. Things have been so up and down between anger and then a few good days. Does he ever feel bad? Does he ever feel bad when he's flipped the script on me. Or when I have brought up something that bothers me, he is not the man I once knew. The man I knew was gentle and kind. He opened my car door for me. He was patient when the kids were over whelmimg. He would apologize and it looked like he really meant it. But when he does it now its because he wants me to shut up. To stop bothering him with my existence when we are supposed to be existing together. There have been super hurtful arguments where he told me what he really thought about me. But I felt at the time it was anger and stress that he didn't mean to take out on me. But I know there is a little truth in every word he has said. He hates being a father. He hates having to have plans with anyone other than himself or who he wants. He hates the way I struggle. The way I try so hard and never get anything done. But also simultaneously doing everything at the same time. Sometimes he comes back to me. The man I know, or knew. The man that makes me laugh. The guy who knows how to make me feel beautiful again. The one that is generous, Lets me sleep in on the days he has off. The one that turns me on. Who doesnt like it when I cry, and not because he is annoyed that I am pulling the water works again. As if. How do you climb a mountain without the gear? Thats what this feels like. Thats what my whole life has felt like. I love him, I can see that he loves me. But there's this certain anger in the air as soon as he is present. How do you lose a child together and become so far apart.. My best friend is slowly becoming my enemy.

Just like that, another part of my childhood is gone. Both my grandmothers passed away within two months of each other. 💔

They were both such an important part of my childhood and took care of me when I was growing up. Now, I find myself looking through old photos, remembering those days and realising that I can never go back to them. It's heartbreaking how people who were once such a big part of your everyday life can suddenly become memories you hold on to.

I'm finding it really hard to process this loss and figure out how to move forward with life. For those who have lost people who helped raise you and loved you unconditionally, how did you cope with the grief? How do you learn to live with their absence and slowly find your way forward? I'd really appreciate hearing your experiences.

He died when I was 2, done it himself. I was 2, it always just feels like he left me I was the newest thing. I didn't even know him I feel alien when people try to talk to me about him cause how can I miss what I don't know but every year I get older it just feels like longer and I don't know why because I don't know how it can feel longer if I didn't even have a relationship with him when he was alive I was literally 2. I hear stories about him and I don't know how to react Infront of people my heart breaks talking about him or thinking about him but I cant say I miss him because honestly I just feel so stupid. He was in addiction but was in recovery when he done it he was supposed to be getting better he could have actually been my dad.

Then I feel bad cause again I'm missing someone I don't know and who chose to leave me and I have this amazing stepdad who I wouldn't change in the world but I don't know man I just don't wanna grieve someone I don't know it's so weird and hard and I'm always sad about it and I never feel like I can talk about it even in therapy I just feel stupid.

Anyways I'm sorry this is so long it's the first time I've ever let it out. Thanks for giving me a place to do it I'm 28 now.