Tag: grieving

You’re Not Alone: Father’s Day

I was doing fine this year leading up to Father’s Day. It was going to be all about my husband.

You’re Not Alone: Not my children

I have three children. My father had a unique yet different connection with them all. Although I’m coming along, I still hurt at the loss of my father.

You’re Not Alone: Little things matter

While we were clearing out my father’s condo, I made a point of carefully wrapping everything I remembered he had since I was a child.

You’re Not Alone: The clock

If you’re ready, your loved ones’ possessions may be soothing to have around. I’m glad I wasn’t quick to go through my father’s possessions.

You’re Not Alone: Celebrate your parents’ birthdays

Yesterday would have been my father’s 86th birthday. It’s been 13 months since he died. He died exactly one month shy of his 85th birthday.

You’re Not Alone: Spring, I get it now

This is the first spring I truly appreciate since my father died over a year ago. I always liked seeing nature in action but this year it’s making me pause.

You’re Not Alone: Practical jokes and phone calls

I wasn’t always great about calling my father regularly. I can’t change it but I wish I would have called more often. Sometimes weeks would slip by and then he’d call me.

You’re Not Alone: Memories of my father that make me laugh

I was reassured by so many people that the pain of losing my father would subside. Anyone that had lost a parent agreed.


You’re Not Alone: Sports I learned from my father

Sports and fathers just seem to fit together. I’ve been thinking about the sports my father enjoyed and taught me to appreciate since Super Bowl Sunday is upon us.

You’re Not Alone: Beginning to remember the good times

In moments of complete logic and clarity, I realize how draining grieving and mourning can be. The pain of my father’s death is not so harsh all the time; it’s more of a dull pain.

You’re Not Alone: Companionship in the end

I am grateful I was able to stay with my last two furry companions when they took their last breaths. I wanted to be there for them in the end.

linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: Multiple losses and the Underwear Thief

I have been angry for so long and then my anger shifted to numbness when my dog, Bubbles, died recently.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: Celebrating my father’s life with music

Shortly after my father died, I packed up all my sheet music, closed the piano lid, and hid my accordion. My father loved music.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: My first Christmas without my father

On Christmas morning, I started the day early with my new ritual of sitting in my chair, reflecting, praying, and reading.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: The ghosts of Christmases past with my father

The past two weeks I’ve been sitting peacefully, nestled in a lavender wingback chair, every morning in front of our Christmas tree.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: Christmas tree ornaments from my father

I used to send my father Steinbach Christmas tree ornaments when we lived in Germany in early 1980 and then again in early 1990.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: December … gingerbread men and stealing candy

Gingerbread men have always been Dambedei for me and my father introduced that word into my immediate family’s vocabulary.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: First Thanksgiving without my father

I thought I could escape the sadness of missing my father this Thanksgiving. We planned to visit with our son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter. A family reunion of sorts just without our oldest son. I was excited.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: My first birthday without my father

This week was my 55th birthday. It was my first birthday since my father died. He was always the first one to wish me a happy birthday.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: Comfort in old photographs

The last time I saw my father alive was six weeks before he died. I knew he didn’t have much longer, but I couldn’t admit it to myself then. His breathing was labored. He could barely walk. His health had deteriorated exponentially over a few months yet his mind was still intact. He was frail and frustrated. This is not how I expected to see my father. He had become a sickly old man. That’s the picture I’ve had stuck in my head since he died: sickly, dependent, and weak.

you're not alone linda r. jones

You’re Not Alone: Unanswered questions for those who have lost a parent

I saw my father six weeks before he died. My friend, whose father died a year prior, told me to ask my father questions when I went to see him. She insisted I ask him everything I wanted to know about anything. I didn’t really know what she meant then. I didn’t ask my father any questions. Now, I understand and I wish I had asked while I had the chance.