It’s time to write again. I haven’t written in this blog for many months because it had become a log of my grief journey and, frankly, I got tired of grieving. Moreover, I was really tired of talking about it.
When you don’t talk about it, you begin the task of telling yourself that you’re okay, that you were blessed to have her 21 years, that you’re blessed to have other precious daughters, that you’re blessed she left such a wonderful little human behind so full of love and sweetness. You try to find the good, all the good you can, hoping it will overcome all the bad you feel inside. And when it doesn’t, you feel worse.
When you lose someone, a part of yourself is missing that can never be reclaimed. Sure, you go on with life, you find many moments of joy. But the hole is always there. The missing returns.
So you keep a secret drawer with a few items of her favorite clothes. And you retreat to press your face into them, searching for the familiar scent of her that has long since faded.
When you take a family picture it’s never whole. It’s imperfect. It’s incomplete. The heart sees what the eyes don’t. She’s always missing.
You better believe your heart will never let you remember any times your beautiful, sweet, soft-spoken daughter was anything but. Your head knows different, but the heart speaks louder. Recalling only good times. Good times. Good times. Thump thump. Thump thump. Thump thump.
The sweeter the memories, the stronger the pain. Oh, my heart, why you gotta be so mean?
I think for the rest of my earthly days I will travel this path back and forth, the sad and the sweet, the despair and the hope, the head and the heart.
This is what missing someone feels like.
Suzanne Leitz 
Wow.
Write on’
Move on and keep on loving😊
Love that! Thanks, and I will!
😊❤
You’re pieces are beautiful.
Keep writing!
Thank you for the encouragement! 😊
Love that.
Thank you!
Amazing!
I am so sorry for your loss. May God hold you in HIS arms and comfort you along this process. Grief is a process one that I’ve found doesn’t get easier with time… God Bless
Thank you. I believe you’re right about that.
For me, i lost my dad in 2000 and I miss him more now… my saving grace is I know he’s with God and that’s a blessing. I’ll be praying for you
Yes, knowing he’s with God is a blessing. Thank you!
Pingback: mr~stranger
Pingback: Missing — Suzanne Leitz – Babies
Hi. I want to send you support and thank you. You’ve so clearly articulated my grief since January 18, 2011, when my daughter chose to disown us and every single person she’d ever known, later legally changing her name and bringing court action against us for merely trying to discern what trouble she was in. Thank you. I thought no one could understand. I thought no one experienced this level of grief. I thought I’d just have to suck it up and shoulder my sorrows and carry on, ignoring it. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. And know that you are certainly not alone in this ongoing, forever, searing sorrow that does not dull with time, or even with our wound-earned faith. We learn to put it away, that’s all, in order to thrive in spite of it. It makes us multi-layered. It makes us strong in ways we never wanted to be strong. It makes us deeper… But we’d still reject it if we could. No one would wish this kind of growth, even on their worst enemy. So I’m with you. Keep being real. Thank. You. !!
You’re welcome, and thank you, Patty. It can make us stronger, but we would choose not to bear it if we could!
My Mom disowned me in favour of my brothers.
I have lived in a vacuum for 2 years. I have two kids, one who is strong about it and one who is not so strong. These are simple words but the wealth of upset and hurt has scarred us for lif.
I am so sorry!
This is a beautiful post. I am so sorry for your pain.
Thank you, Ali.
Incredibly moving, and a touchingly true account of the raw grief of loss.
Thank you for sharing, but I am sorry that there was ever a need for you to share.
Thank you.
You all need a puppy hug. Omg. I’m so sorry…
I recently went through my sixth Christmas and his birthday without my son. He was 23 when I lost him and his son was six months old. We had just spent six weeks in NICU praying his son would live only to lose my son instead. I am so sorry you lost your daughter. I know all too well your pain. My friend from high school just lost her daughter this past October. My whole house is my secret drawer. Thank you for a beautiful post. I’m glad you came back to blog and that I was fortunate enough to stumble on to your post. Prayers.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Shared pain is a special bond. My daughter has been gone over four years and it never hurts less, but having her daughter in our lives is such a healing balm. I’m sure you understand.
Put your words down like you did, you have joined so many of us in your grief. Only we know what we are going through.
You are right! Only fully understood when experienced!
Thank you for writing this – your words pulled me away from myself.
Thank you for letting me know it touched you in some way.
This is a beautiful read.
Thank you!
Keep on writing… we are build to forget, and those beautiful words you have written… will remain, and will be a remainder of your love…
Thank you.
I can imagine how you feel, because I also lost a very dear person almost two years ago. At first it was emptiness that I felt, because he is not here, but… then I realized he is still with me, not in a material way but in my heart and memory and he will always be as long as I will keep thinking of him. His death thought me to live my life to the fullest, because it can be over in a moment…
Yes, it does teach you the value of every moment.
Your image of the secret drawer – so good.
Beautiful! Sorry for your lost, your words are so comforting and strengthening. Thanks for sharing ❤️
Thank you!
Beautiful and so true. Thank you for sharing. Sorry for your loss.
Thank you!
Thank you for your vulnerability!
My wife and I are blessed to have raised five daughters. The blessings are on going that all are still alive and healthy after 53 years.
A blessing, indeed!
Thank you
Nice one.I cannot say I know what you feel.But I can imagine.
Yes the hole and the gap of missing someone can never be filled. Great post.
Thank you.
Pingback: When you lose someone… – Phony Nonie
I too lost my sister in a freak road accident. It’s been a decade and it still feels so fresh and raw. Actually no amount of sympathy, encouraging words, or even time can completely erase the suffering.
Your pain of loss is so evident, so raw in your post. Your words have such depth, such feel, that I couldn’t help borrowing them to synthesise a modest composition (I know I’m not great at it…just a humble effort…). It turned out to be a bit long for posting in comments, so posting it on my blog. Here’s the link, if you feel alright to go through it:-
https://phonynonie.wordpress.com/2018/02/05/when-you-lose-someone/
PS: I hope you are not offended by this act of mine…I don’t intend to steal your words and the feelings infused in them. It’s just that your words so closely align with my own expressions of the loss.
I’m not offended! I read your poem and loved how you took a few phrases of mine and meshed them with yours and made something completely new and beautiful. 🙂
Thanks for being so magnanimous… And the kind words.😊
I’m so very sorry for the loss of your sister 😔
This made me cry. I’m so sorry for your loss. You’re a beautiful writer!
Thank you so much. Glad to know it touched you.
I can just figure out the pain you’ve talk about. I have two children and love them in a way I realized being possible just after their births. I wish you all the best. Love.
Thank you so much. May you never know the pain of losing a child. Blessings to you.
Such a heart felt piece… ❤
That’s cool
Thanks. 🙂
Thank you for sharing this
http://amzn.to/2FTMiIn
http://pay.nicolaspro06.mandrake100.8.1tpe.net
Nice lines
Thank you.
Okay …I liked your word when u used words love u
This is so true! Thank you for sharing this!
Pingback: Missing — Suzanne Leitz – the_irreplacable
Heart touching…full of emotions. “When you lose someone, a part of yourself is missing that can never be reclaimed. ” and “When you take a family picture it’s never whole. It’s imperfect. It’s incomplete. The heart sees what the eyes don’t. She’s always missing.” touched me most. I am myself in grief and I was able to relate with your post to some extent.
I’m sorry for your loss! Sometimes when we realize our deeply felt emotions are shared by others it offers a small measure of comfort. Small, but welcome.
Yes I agree, sharing let’s us know we are not alone and that others face similar situations and feel the sane way. It also helps in exporting ways to cope up with grief. Expressing do provide some comfort.
From one grieved to another, I’m sorry. 😔
The pain of your loss is deeply felt in those words. Support and prayers for your relief. The beautiful thing about writing is that it will recreate your memories and you can keep revisiting them. The pictures you take now would be incomplete and the scent might fade away from her clothes but she will live on through your writing. Love and prayers… Stay strong and keep creating such beautiful work.
Wow. Thank you so much.
My pleasure and thank you for inspiring.
Oh my! This brought a tear to my eye. So beautifully written and descriptive. So relatable. I love it! Xx
Thank you so much.
Right.i also love it.many thanks
How right you are. You are eaten alive by what was once another’s zest for life. Then, you are faced eternally with a certain longing for death and reuniting. I feel the same about missing my father who died when I was merely 13 years old! The silence of his laughter runs wild with sound! And I hear it echo within my mind and the tears stain my face. Thank you for sharing. God bless you!
You are right! Once we lose a loved one, we have one foot in the world and one in the next…
And the sad part is that we never again feel the true joy that we once felt when we had that person to share it with. It creates a dangerous void that leaves you in a constant state of yearning quite the same as a drug addict may feel for the drug.
In my experience, joy returns at times, but always bittersweet.
right dear…many thanks
This is so powerful. Thank you for sharing your raw experience with grief.. I’m so sorry for your loss.
Thank you:!
Agreed. Such a poignant description of this very raw emotion. A friend of mine once told me that, “the degree to which you grieve is a measure of the degree to which you have loved”. Seems like it may have some credibility. My heart goes out to you!
Thank you so much.
Reblogged this on Fried Pies and Crisco Thighs and commented:
“So you keep a secret drawer with a few items of her favorite clothes. And you retreat to press your face into them, searching for the familiar scent of her that has long since faded.”
This post perfectly sums up why I left this blog after only a few posts. It’s hard enough to be broken, but to be broken in public is raw and messy and sometimes you must step away and do the hard work inside yourself before you can relive the sweet memories. I’m sitting here today with Nanny’s sweater wrapped around me. Her smell has long since faded, I’ve worn it so many times on hard days when I needed to feel the warmth it provides. I have worn it more than she ever did and it both comforts me and pains me. She would hate my wallowing and tell me to go wash my face and DO something productive. So here I am. Beginning again when words are never enough.
So good!
I am sorry for your loss. I kept a few a my mom’ clothes in a small suitcase. The scent like you said has faded but I still open it once in a while. Family pictures have her missing and the sadness is always there. May God be with you.
Thank you.
Nice I love from the heart writing actual real words
Thank you.
Thank you sharing your experience..many thanks.zakir
I just lost my son as well and oh does this resonate, his hat, his coat, special things all tucked into my space and memory bank and just the smell and energy it provides is a gratitude and comfort inside.
Yes!
Kerri I’m so sorry 💔
Thank you darlin!
I am so sorry for your loss!
Thank you, I appreciate that 💕
This is life after death. Living after death is living with a heavy empty space. Beautifully written.
Yes, it is. Thank you.