Dear Anne - This is really beautiful and I am so inspired by the idea of creating a memorial this way. I would like to add a link to this post to our guild newsletter -- The Windy City Knitting Guild. May I send our readers to this post? Karen Hoyer reply to: wckgnewsletter@gmail.com
I am so sorry about the loss of your brother. I feel I can relate absolutely to your post and the comments below - even though my loss happened more than 30 years ago, as you said, the grief is still there, and even though not as acute, sometimes feels unexpectedly fresh. I really appreciate you, and others, sharing their thoughts on this. Thank you.
Oh my, this post really resonated with me. Anne, I am so sorry about the loss of your dear little brother so long ago. It is so true that grief never really leaves us. We find a way to build our life around it and we hold our loved ones in our heart and our memories for the rest of our life.
You are so wise, Anne. I love how you express yourself and your insights into life and knitting and the intersections between our emotions, life experiences and knitting. I knit for a creative outlet, of course, but also for meditation and for alone time to process feelings and musings. To think about my loved ones for whom I may be knitting. I really do try to put love into every stitch.
I lost my beloved parents within 5 months of each other in the last year and a half. Even though they were elderly, it has discombobulated my world. My journey is learning how to feel the sadness, grief and joy at the same time. That, I think, is healing.
Blessings to you, and thank you for sharing your tender heart.
Oh tender you. Please forgive me taking so long to reply. I did not know how many of us there are with grief stories. It's so funny how grief can make you feel like the "only one." I wish you everything good and thank *you* for sharing your tender heart.
I had just been thinking about our daughter, Kelly, when I read today’s note. I’m so sorry about the loss of your brother. A car crash is so awful. Our daughter lived only 6 days. She was deprived of oxygen during delivery and had no brain activity. She would be 40 years old. I wonder what she would be like if she had lived. So we are sisters in sorrow. Peace.
Friend, oh my. Your daughter and your (and her) story is so huge. I feel this to my bones, and please forgive me for taking so long to reply. I love how you put this: Sisters in sorrow. Big hugs to you.
My father died in 1979 after an 18 year battle with cancer. You are so right about grief. Even though I've been alive long without my dad then I was with him, there still are times when the wave of grief almost knocks me down. Still for the most part now, I'm able to enjoy the memories and be grateful for the times we did share.
Oh, Virginia. Please forgive me for taking so long to reply. The tenderness of what you've said: how the wave of grief can almost knock you down, oh how I feel this right along with you. It's like an ocean, isn't it? I often don't understand this "being human" thing and trying to live with joy and grief at the same time, but I do know this: there is comfort in being together. Thank you for sharing a piece of your heart.
Dear Anne - This is really beautiful and I am so inspired by the idea of creating a memorial this way. I would like to add a link to this post to our guild newsletter -- The Windy City Knitting Guild. May I send our readers to this post? Karen Hoyer reply to: wckgnewsletter@gmail.com
I am so sorry about the loss of your brother. I feel I can relate absolutely to your post and the comments below - even though my loss happened more than 30 years ago, as you said, the grief is still there, and even though not as acute, sometimes feels unexpectedly fresh. I really appreciate you, and others, sharing their thoughts on this. Thank you.
Oh my, this post really resonated with me. Anne, I am so sorry about the loss of your dear little brother so long ago. It is so true that grief never really leaves us. We find a way to build our life around it and we hold our loved ones in our heart and our memories for the rest of our life.
You are so wise, Anne. I love how you express yourself and your insights into life and knitting and the intersections between our emotions, life experiences and knitting. I knit for a creative outlet, of course, but also for meditation and for alone time to process feelings and musings. To think about my loved ones for whom I may be knitting. I really do try to put love into every stitch.
I lost my beloved parents within 5 months of each other in the last year and a half. Even though they were elderly, it has discombobulated my world. My journey is learning how to feel the sadness, grief and joy at the same time. That, I think, is healing.
Blessings to you, and thank you for sharing your tender heart.
Oh tender you. Please forgive me taking so long to reply. I did not know how many of us there are with grief stories. It's so funny how grief can make you feel like the "only one." I wish you everything good and thank *you* for sharing your tender heart.
I had just been thinking about our daughter, Kelly, when I read today’s note. I’m so sorry about the loss of your brother. A car crash is so awful. Our daughter lived only 6 days. She was deprived of oxygen during delivery and had no brain activity. She would be 40 years old. I wonder what she would be like if she had lived. So we are sisters in sorrow. Peace.
Friend, oh my. Your daughter and your (and her) story is so huge. I feel this to my bones, and please forgive me for taking so long to reply. I love how you put this: Sisters in sorrow. Big hugs to you.
My father died in 1979 after an 18 year battle with cancer. You are so right about grief. Even though I've been alive long without my dad then I was with him, there still are times when the wave of grief almost knocks me down. Still for the most part now, I'm able to enjoy the memories and be grateful for the times we did share.
Oh, Virginia. Please forgive me for taking so long to reply. The tenderness of what you've said: how the wave of grief can almost knock you down, oh how I feel this right along with you. It's like an ocean, isn't it? I often don't understand this "being human" thing and trying to live with joy and grief at the same time, but I do know this: there is comfort in being together. Thank you for sharing a piece of your heart.