Anyone know any poems or quotes about when peoples patience for your grief run out??(14 Posts)
Sorry, no! But I know what you mean. If I come up with a poem of my own to capture this (familiar) experience I will post it here. But don't be holding your breath ...
Hello, there is one on the bereaved Mothers' thread today. It is about losing a child, but it does sum things up.
op, you mean about a month after the death when you should be "getting over it by now" <<<aaarrrggghhh!!!>>>
hope someone helps x
Not a poem but a think something from a self help book " my grief for xxx will last as long as my love for him will"
this is the poem miaalexandrasmummy posted about earlier, its perfect
Please don't tell me you know how I feel,
Unless you have lost your child too,
Please don't tell me my broken heart will heal,
Because that is just not true,
Please don't tell me my son is in a better place,
Though it is true, I want him here with me,
Don't tell me someday I'll hear his voice, see his face,
Beyond today I cannot see,
Don?t tell me it is time to move on,
Because I cannot,
Don?t tell me to face the fact he is gone,
Because denial is something I can't stop,
Don't tell me to be thankful for the time I had,
Because I wanted more,
Don't tell me when I am my old self you will be glad,
I'll never be as I was before,
What you can tell me is you will be here for me,
That you will listen when I talk of my child,
You can share with me my precious memories,
You can even cry with me for a while,
And please don't hesitate to say his name,
Because it is something I long to hear everyday,
Friend please realize that I can never be the same,
That poem is beautiful and sums up how I am feeling atm.
'Grief lasts longer than sympathy, which is one of the tragedies of the grieving.'
Oops that quote above is taken from 'An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination' by Elizabeth McCracken
Great quotes. I'm nearly at the 2 year anniversary for my husband and I'm finding it harder than the first. It's the disbelief that some much time has passed since I saw him.
OP, so sorry for your loss and grief, and the lack of patience of others.
Have a look at Shakespeare's "King John" - just google "Shakespeare and the death of children". You'll find a site called Consolatio.
It's about the loss of child, and Shakespeare knew all about it by then.
Shakespeare: Grief fills the room up of my absent child
Constance fears that her son Prince Arthur, heir to the thone of England, will be murdered at the order of his uncle, King John. He does indeed die while trying to escape from his murderers.
I will instruct my sorrows to be proud;
For grief is proud and makes his owner stoop.Queen_ps
To me and to the state of my great grief
Let kings assemble; for my grief's so great
That no supporter but the huge firm earth
Can hold it up: here I and sorrows sit;
Here is my throne, bid kings come bow to it.
Seats herself on the ground
[In a later scene]
No, I defy all counsel, all redress,
But that which ends all counsel, true redress,
Death, death; O amiable lovely death!
Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow.
I am not mad: this hair I tear is mine;
My name is Constance; I was Geffrey's wife;
Young Arthur is my son, and he is lost:
I am not mad: I would to heaven I were!
For then, 'tis like I should forget myself:
O, if I could, what grief should I forget!
Preach some philosophy to make me mad,
And thou shalt be canonized, cardinal;
For being not mad but sensible of grief,
My reasonable part produces reason
How I may be deliver'd of these woes,
And teaches me to kill or hang myself:
If I were mad, I should forget my son,
Or madly think a babe of clouts were he:
I am not mad; too well, too well I feel
The different plague of each calamity....
And, father cardinal, I have heard you say
That we shall see and know our friends in heaven:
If that be true, I shall see my boy again;
For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,
To him that did but yesterday suspire,
There was not such a gracious creature born.
But now will canker-sorrow eat my bud
And chase the native beauty from his cheek
And he will look as hollow as a ghost,
As dim and meagre as an ague's fit,
And so he'll die; and, rising so again,
When I shall meet him in the court of heaven
I shall not know him: therefore never, never
Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.
You hold too heinous a respect of grief.
He talks to me that never had a son.
You are as fond of grief as of your child.
Grief fills the room up of my absent child,
Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,
Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,
Remembers me of all his gracious parts,
Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form:
Then have I reason to be fond of grief?
Fare you well: had you such a loss as I,
I could give better comfort than you do...
O Lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son!
My life, my joy, my food, my all the world!
My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure!
--Shakespeare (1564-1616), King John, Act III
Beautiful. I believe you could transpose all the references to any loved one and the power would be the same.
I found this one last year after the first anniversary of my husbands premature death. It will be 2 years in 3 weeks and honestly it's harder because he's never ever coming back.
one year will pass
i can feel it edging closer
how will the world seem then?
it wont have changed as we have
how could it?
12 months are not enough
some say times a healer
we know that isn't true
12 months, 12 years 12 lifetimes
wont change things for me and you
but now we know we are not alone
but the world is not as we thought
there are hearts as ours that have suffered so
many that are torn apart
one year will come and then be gone
some will notice then move on
yet however many years go by
our tears will fall and we will cry
together forever my love
to some we may try to explain
to others we may not
about the pain the grief and the loss
and then i guess another year
will be here and gone
and the world still wont look
as it once had done
but one thing will have remained true
thats the love between me and you
I must walk this path that lies ahead of me.
Walk this path that life has mapped out for me.
The way is dark and rocky underfoot.
But walk it I will as best I can,
Till the way becomes clearer and easier to see.
Walk with me a while, down this path of pain.
Walk beside me, and help me should I stumble.
Be patient and walk at MY pace.
Stay with me even if I fall,
Your feet are surer than mine.
But never forget whose path it is.
The path is mine.
And I must walk it my own way,
In my own time.
And walk it, I must.
Wish I could take credit, but I stumbled on this poem whilst in the waiting room at my daughters counselling and it spoke volumes to me so thought I'd share. X
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