Sentence Of Grief Novels & Stories

Nag-iba ang atmospera sa loob ng kwarto. "Tungkol ito sa anak ninyo, na dumaranas ng major depressive disorder with complicated grief. Ibig sabihin, ang pagkawala ng isang tao na mahalaga sa kanya, lalo na ang hindi tiyak at walang maayos na pagbabalita kay Hershey, ay paulit-ulit na bumubukas ang sugat ng nakaraan sa dibdib niya. Maging gentle ka naman sa anak mo," itinuon ng therapist ang tingin kay Hershey. "Mas kailangan niyang tanggapin ang realidad," giit ng Mommy niya. "Hindi 'yang pag-asa-asa na iyan!"

“Alam mo girl, sa akin lang ha. I think Conan would want you to endure the world without him. Kung nandito lang ‘yon, alam kong pagagalitan ka noon. Alam kong your grief belongs to you and I don’t have a say on that kasi nararamdaman mo ‘yan. But girl, have yourself figured things out and move forward. Let him go already, you deserve to live in a new journey.” She said. That night, I cried again remembering him. Crying is a way of honouring who they are in our life, and what have we lost. I saw our wedding picture in the wall. Kaya dahan-dahan akong tumayo sa kama at saka tumungo roon at pinakatitigan ang larawang ‘yon. We’re so happy and lovely in that picture.

TWO WEEKS AFTER Dalawang linggo na ng lumipas noong huli kong nakausap si Shine. Tatlong araw mula noon ay namatay si grandpa kaya mas lalo akong hindi nakauwi. I mourned. I was in terrible agony of rejection and grief. Siguro, mas magaan sana ng kaunti ang aking mararamdaman ngayon kung nandiyan si Shine kahit sa phone man lang. Pero wala.

In just a snap, I fucking lost them. Day to Day grieving was hard. It was a such heartbreaking and devastating event in my life. I can't think straight. I was crying every night, praying na sana maibalik sila, na sana panaginip lang 'to, na sana pati ako sinama na lang.

She knows me too well. “Alam ko kung gaano ka nasasaktan,” sambit niya. “Hindi ko pa rin po m-matanggap. He was murdered, Ate Lorie. Kaya mas lalo akong hindi makaahon sa nakakalunod na sakit.” Basag na basag ang boses ko habang ang mga luha’y isa-isang tumutulo. My heart is aching too much. But my grief comes with anger because of the person who did this to us.

Nagbibiro ba ang taong ito? Nang titigan niya ang lalaki. She recognized it now—that look. Not lust. Not hunger. Just grief. "Wait... Seryoso ka ba?" Gideon didn’t answer. Instead, he just leaned forward and rested his forehead on her shoulder. It was the most human thing she’d ever seen from a man inside these walls. No transaction. No performance. Just raw, aching sorrow. She even heard his soft sobs and sniffs. They lay there in silence for a long while, his chest rising and falling against her, and for once, Eva—Apple Pie—didn’t know who was comforting who.

What if I become someone she used to know? Someone she used to talk to? Someone she used to care about? Tahimik si Seb. At marahil sa unang pagkakataon... nakita niya kung gaano na kalala ang sitwasyon. Because this wasn't frustration anymore. This wasn't confusion anymore. This wasn't even anger. It was grief. The strange kind of grief that comes from losing someone who's still alive. Someone who's still out there. Someone you can technically reach. But you can't. Because they've chosen distance. And you're forced to respect it.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m here.” Dinala niya ako sa kama, hawak na parang isang bagay na marupok—parang mabibiyak ako nang tuluyan kung hindi siya mag-iingat. Inilubog ko ang mukha ko sa kanya, hinayaan ang lahat ng luha na bumuhos. The pain blurred with something else—grief, anger, exhaustion. I didn’t even know what I was crying for anymore. Maybe for everything I lost. Maybe for everything I still loved but couldn’t have.

“Not to offend you but at some point…it’s your fault why the situation became complicated. She don’t want to see you. Doble ang sakit niya dahil nadamay pa ang anak niyo,” Natahimik ako. “Ikaw ang sinisisi niya, anak. Kung magpapakita ka pa ay mas mahihirapan siya. Masakit mawalan ng anak. Malungkot at nakakadurog ng puso kaya wag mo muna siya gulohin…” My shoulders started trembling. I lowered my head and cried in silent. I felt mommy caressing my shoulders. I felt so hopeless and so tired. “H-Hindi ko sinasadya, mommy…” I sobbed. “I didn’t meant to do that. I’m also in pain. It’s also my child. Am I not allowed to grief over my child?”

As an eleven-year-old child who lost her parents, I’d lie in bed at night for the umpteenth time, sobbing in the darkness as I imagined what life would be like without them. As Joan Didion wrote in one of her books that I’ve read before, “Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it.” As for me, who experienced it twice, I didn’t know what to feel anymore. It was unknown to me, the feeling. What does it feel like? Not until I experienced loss in life. I lost my parents. Four years ago, I lost my first child.