Losing A Loved One Quotes

“I knew this for a fact. Little by little, the ache to see him, to hear him would disappear. Little by little I’d forget how his arms felt, how his fingers felt, how his lips felt..the sound of his voice, the intensity of his gaze, all of it. Trace by trace it would slip from my mind, recede into foggy memory. The painful haze that dulled my present would melt into the past. Maybe not all the way, maybe there would be a few scars. Maybe I'd be different, but I’d be me again. Little by little.”
― Jennifer DeLucy

“It kind of scares me though, to keep wearing it every day like I do. What happens when I run out of it? Will I forget what she looked like? What it looked like when the sun reflected on her hair? The way her pillow always smelled like her? Will my memory of her run out too?”
― Keary Taylor, What I Didn't Say

“Time goes by so fast and the friends you have sometimes leave, but it doesn't mean you stop loving them.”
― Heather Wolf, Kipnuk the Talking Dog

“By acknowledging my impermanence, I can consider if there is anything I can do now to help my loved ones who will be left behind cope with losing me and to facilitate healing.”
― Lisa J. Shultz, A Chance to Say Goodbye: Reflections on Losing a Parent

“What I keep thinking about is that... it’s a long time ahead of me without her. My whole 20s. And 30s. And the rest of my life. How am I supposed to do all that? It was so early.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, The Goodbye Song

“Though loss did not pass from one person to another liker a baton; it just formed a bigger and bigger pool of carriers. And, she thought, scratching the coarseness of the horse's mane, it did not leave once lodged, did it, simply changed form and asked repeatedly for attention and care, as each year revealed a new knot to cry out and consider - smaller, sure, but never gone.”
― Aimee Bender, The Color Master: Stories

“How do I tell them that so many words in their language rattle like cages without birds? Do you call it grief when the nest you fall from disappears into the sky with the sillage of a memory that will
never be done? That isn’t grief for us, we call that hüzün.”
― K. Eltinaé, The Moral Judgement of Butterflies

“When I think of losing you, my breath comes off. How much I love you, do you ever feel?”
― Sajal Ahmed

“Mother's gone so who can I cry to about you? There’s no one else alive. I have no one to tell me how I was as a child. Was I really one?”
― Karl Kristian Flores, The Goodbye Song

“I miss her so much. So much. I can’t sleep. I just cry. Sometimes when I’m in bed, and my arm loses circulation, or my leg is in a weird position, I think of her. Her stiffness. I just lay there, with my body, frozen, imagining if that’s what she feels like... I lay my tongue out like this, all dry." He deforms himself. "I twist my wrist, and I tell her, 'Goodnight.”
― Karl Kristian Flores, The Goodbye Song

“It was always with her now, that sadness, like one of those rare orchids you saw clinging to jungle branches on TV, always blooming in her at unexpected moments, and even on the move, scuffing down the hall toward Doodle's room, the thought of evading it called it into being. Sadness. The word itself didn't do the feeling justice. What she felt was a more complicated alchemy of emotion, equal parts grief and loneliness and longing, with measures of resentment and self-pity drizzled in.”
― Michael Knight

“It is terrible to lose a loved one... Such sadness doesn't just bruise, then fade away. It devastates. The only way back is to rebuild, stone by stone. And sometimes one hasn't the energy, or the inclination, and one sits among the ruins and waits for something to change. But nothing changes unless we stand up again, and keep picking up the stones.”
― Kimberley Freeman, Lighthouse Bay

“- Jag menar inte att det är ditt fel, sa hon som om hon läst hans tankar. "Det är vi. Vi som helhet, vi som begrepp. Begreppet fungerar inte längre, det är ihåligt. Tycker du inte det själv?”
― Håkan Lindgren, Att raka en zebra

“I never wanted to lose her. But somewhere along the way, I did.”
― Febe Maenhout, How I Hate To Love You