Hey, I am so sorry for what you’re going through, I lost my dad almost 6 years ago, I still miss him dearly. I think that diagram is right, in that life grows around you, you can ignore that, but if you participate in it, you’ll see that there will be new people around, loving people.

They’ll never fill the hole your lost one left and they’re not supposed to, but they’ll fill your life with new things and looking back, it’ll never feel empty.

For me it was my mom’s new husband, my parents were divorced almost 10 years before my dad passed. My stepdad was the best thing that could have happened to my family, he never could replace our dad, in that they’re very different people, and he never would want to, but what he has done for my mom, my sisters, my grandma and me made him as irreplaceable as my dad was.

The day my dad died, I was sitting in the train home to take care of things, I stumbled about this reddit comment by u/gsnow and it helped me process what was happening to me and my family. I couldn’t thank that Internet stranger enough for his kind words.

Alright, here goes. I’m old. What that means is that I’ve survived (so far) and a lot of people I’ve known and loved did not. I’ve lost friends, best friends, acquaintances, co-workers, grandparents, mom, relatives, teachers, mentors, students, neighbors, and a host of other folks. I have no children, and I can’t imagine the pain it must be to lose a child. But here’s my two cents. I wish I could say you get used to people dying. I never did. I don’t want to. It tears a hole through me whenever somebody I love dies, no matter the circumstances. But I don’t want it to “not matter”. I don’t want it to be something that just passes. My scars are a testament to the love and the relationship that I had for and with that person. And if the scar is deep, so was the love. So be it. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are a testament that I can love deeply and live deeply and be cut, or even gorged, and that I can heal and continue to live and continue to love. And the scar tissue is stronger than the original flesh ever was. Scars are a testament to life. Scars are only ugly to people who can’t see. As for grief, you’ll find it comes in waves. When the ship is first wrecked, you’re drowning, with wreckage all around you. Everything floating around you reminds you of the beauty and the magnificence of the ship that was, and is no more. And all you can do is float. You find some piece of the wreckage and you hang on for a while. Maybe it’s some physical thing. Maybe it’s a happy memory or a photograph. Maybe it’s a person who is also floating. For a while, all you can do is float. Stay alive. In the beginning, the waves are 100 feet tall and crash over you without mercy. They come 10 seconds apart and don’t even give you time to catch your breath. All you can do is hang on and float. After a while, maybe weeks, maybe months, you’ll find the waves are still 100 feet tall, but they come further apart. When they come, they still crash all over you and wipe you out. But in between, you can breathe, you can function. You never know what’s going to trigger the grief. It might be a song, a picture, a street intersection, the smell of a cup of coffee. It can be just about anything…and the wave comes crashing. But in between waves, there is life. Somewhere down the line, and it’s different for everybody, you find that the waves are only 80 feet tall. Or 50 feet tall. And while they still come, they come further apart. You can see them coming. An anniversary, a birthday, or Christmas, or landing at O’Hare. You can see it coming, for the most part, and prepare yourself. And when it washes over you, you know that somehow you will, again, come out the other side. Soaking wet, sputtering, still hanging on to some tiny piece of the wreckage, but you’ll come out. Take it from an old guy. The waves never stop coming, and somehow you don’t really want them to. But you learn that you’ll survive them. And other waves will come. And you’ll survive them too. If you’re lucky, you’ll have lots of scars from lots of loves. And lots of shipwrecks.”

I hope that helps a little, look around and see, you’re not alone.

Stay afloat stranger <3

The first year is the hardest. Every event and anniversary that passes is momentous. It took me three years before I stopped feeling like grief was my identity. It’s coming up on 8 now, and I still think of him every day, but without that crushing weight. Please feel welcome to message me if you want advice or if you just want to talk about her. People in your life will often change the subject or get sad, because they think talking about her will make it worse, but I always felt better talking about him.

I am saddened by your loss.

I am of similar ages and anniversary years, and your post resonates strongly with me.

I pray you find whatever you need to deal with this. I am so sorry.

Orphan since 15. For me grief absolutely got smaller.

I am so sorry for your loss. I’m sure it feels overwhelming and neverending right now. In my experience the diagram is pretty accurate, but they fail to mention that sometimes it can take a very long time to grow around the grief. And while it may not be a long time chronologically, to your mind and heart it will feel like an incredibly long time. But it will happen. One day you will be able to breathe a little easier. The weight of grief will feel a little lighter. And you might even feel a little guilty about it, but thats when you have to give yourself a reality check. That person you loved, loved you back. They would have wanted you to be happy. You have to let yourself accept the lessening of grief too.

Holidays are hard for me too. I lost the most important person in my life a few years ago on Dec 15th so christmas is especially challenging. Anyway, if you need someone to talk to who gets it, you can pm me.

This is the first thanksgiving without my mom. I hate that all I really can think about when thinking about her, is what she must have felt like right before she died. And guilt for not being there, but also how the last time I ever talked to her was in anger.

The word ‘to’ was lost from one of the last figures.

Fuck.

I had a snappy comeback until I realized this wasn’t abstract.

I’ve lost my mom, my dad, step sister, foster parents, and adoptive parents.

I don’t know the loss you feel. I’m sorry.

The loss of someone you chose to be a family with must be much stronger.

I hope it gets easier while the fond memories get stronger.

“But slowly, life begins grow bigger around it”

The person who wrote that needs to grow their circle of grammatical knowledge.

Im so sorry Gabe. Just reading your words brings tears to my eyes. I know it’s so hard. But I hope you never forget that you will always carry her around with you until the end, the echo she left on your life. And maybe with enough time, you will realize she can be the one to push your circle out.

❤️