I wasn't sure I could get through reading this - in three days it will be the 20th anniversary of my 20 year-old son's death. It is hitting me hard - that he has been gone as long as was here...
I'm glad I read this, though. It reminded me of the mysterious things that happened after, and how the spiritual world permeates the physical. And reminded me of how making art & writing are such good tools for traveling through grief.
Zanna, my heart is full and breaking with yours. The pain never goes away. We just find new ways to carry it -- the agony in one hand and the love in the other. Thank you for reading and finding glimpses of the profound mysteries that sustain us. So grateful for the grace of writing through the grief. 💔
Oh Elaine, I felt ALL of this. Those socks…it is the little things that undo us. And the image of trying to untangle this thing…when we truly never can. We just learn to live with this jumbled mess and make something beautiful out of it, for, and because, of our precious and beautiful sons.
The messages from them now become everything. That Elliot sent you one through George right from the off says it all…they want to stay in our lives as much as we desperately need them to.
So glad I read this today. Sending love to, and gratitude for, you ❤️🙏
“the boots are just boots… but they are Elliot’s boots—and they held his heartbeat just hours earlier.” powerful use of hospital belongs bag as medium for meaning and purpose
To Elaine, As someone involved in a terrible motorcycle accident in 2017 that nearly killed me—the classic driver pulled out in front of me—this hits hard, but from the perspective of the loved one left behind. Thank you for sharing and I hope and pray that the process of writing and the strength you’ve shown in sharing have helped to assuage your grief.
Your words move me. Thank you for sharing your story. Relieved you survived. Motorcycles are so dangerous -- particularly in the midst of traffic. We still don't know exactly what happened that horrible day, but I have many theories. Only Elliot knows, and though the questions still cling to me, I have made peace -- treasuring the traces I still find of him to forge a new kind of relationship. 💜
I wasn't sure I could get through reading this - in three days it will be the 20th anniversary of my 20 year-old son's death. It is hitting me hard - that he has been gone as long as was here...
I'm glad I read this, though. It reminded me of the mysterious things that happened after, and how the spiritual world permeates the physical. And reminded me of how making art & writing are such good tools for traveling through grief.
Zanna, my heart is full and breaking with yours. The pain never goes away. We just find new ways to carry it -- the agony in one hand and the love in the other. Thank you for reading and finding glimpses of the profound mysteries that sustain us. So grateful for the grace of writing through the grief. 💔
Zann...sorry about the typo. 💜Thank you for reading.
Oh Elaine, I felt ALL of this. Those socks…it is the little things that undo us. And the image of trying to untangle this thing…when we truly never can. We just learn to live with this jumbled mess and make something beautiful out of it, for, and because, of our precious and beautiful sons.
The messages from them now become everything. That Elliot sent you one through George right from the off says it all…they want to stay in our lives as much as we desperately need them to.
So glad I read this today. Sending love to, and gratitude for, you ❤️🙏
Completely absorbing in its rawness — the way grief unfolds through objects and memory is deeply felt throughout. It stayed with me, quietly.
I am profoundly moved by your words. The experience you describe is precious grace.
“the boots are just boots… but they are Elliot’s boots—and they held his heartbeat just hours earlier.” powerful use of hospital belongs bag as medium for meaning and purpose
Thank you for reading my piece and sharing my grief with such heart.
Omg. Bawling. So familiar and the way you tell it is a such a detailed recollection.
And tears welling with your words. Sending comfort and peace.
To Elaine, As someone involved in a terrible motorcycle accident in 2017 that nearly killed me—the classic driver pulled out in front of me—this hits hard, but from the perspective of the loved one left behind. Thank you for sharing and I hope and pray that the process of writing and the strength you’ve shown in sharing have helped to assuage your grief.
Your words move me. Thank you for sharing your story. Relieved you survived. Motorcycles are so dangerous -- particularly in the midst of traffic. We still don't know exactly what happened that horrible day, but I have many theories. Only Elliot knows, and though the questions still cling to me, I have made peace -- treasuring the traces I still find of him to forge a new kind of relationship. 💜
The courage to share this... I'm overwhelmed... thank you.
Your words are such a comfort. Writing helps me feel less alone.💔
✨💚🧦✨ I completely understand about the socks. The grief knot never completely untangles, your writing is like the needle that helps us to unloose it.
Elliot, gone too soon, yet his presence is felt. (((Hugs)))