Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose, Rose G.
Anna's story is a beautiful testament to the unexpected ways healing can happen. It's incredible how sharing our vulnerabilities can create such profound connections. Her honesty about feeling isolated in your grief, and then finding solace in the Substack community, really resonates.
It's a reminder that even when we feel most alone, we're never truly alone in our experiences.
Thank you Alex, this has really touched me. I agree with you, we often worry about sharing our deepest worries and fears and as you share them you realise they are the same worries and fears as others, and before you know it a network builds. Our vulnerabilities connect us. Community is always the answer. Thank you again x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose, Rose G.
I also write about grief...and every time I think, "who would want to read this?" another comment shows up telling me that there is comfort in community. Thanks for this post...more affirmation.
Yes Cindy absolutely. In the early days of my writing I used to think no one would want to read it, perhaps its all a bit too gloomy for everyone. I soon realised I also found beauty in grief. Grief allowed me to feel more joy, feel more, live more. As Mary Oliver says “We shake with joy, we shake with grief. What a time they have, these two housed as they are in the same body”, and I think that is where the beauty in the writing lies, how we interweave these emotions, how they bring us alive. I am glad this has given you affirmation, keep writing, we all need it. Much love x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose, Rose G.
This deeply resonates with me. Losing my dad to dementia fuelled my move to working in the funeral industry and to complete an MA in Death, Religion and Culture. While I no longer work in the funeral industry it is always something close to my heart. Being able to be there for someone, holding space so they can be, sit and face their grief. Anna writes beautifully and with heart. It is this authenticity that attracts her community and fills everyone with love.
Thank you so much Kym What it is to lose a parent. I am sorry for your loss, and I hope that you are finding the time and space to hold your grief. It is so interesting to hear how you studied for an MA and then worked in the funeral industry. I have often wondered whether my role in all of this is to guide Dad in the most peaceful way through this transition. It made me wonder that if this is to change me forever, how can I be of service, how can I turn this into something good.
Your community are very lucky to have you holding space and being there for them when they need you. Much love x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose
Hi Anna, thank you for the reply. I absolutely felt the same, that beautiful phrase, to be of service, that is how it felt to me. Life circumstances pulled me away from that but I still feel like it is a mantra for me, perhaps now it looks a little different that's all. I will be starting my own substack soon, it will include elements from my MA. I hope that one day my writing will help others as your writing does. 🧡
Thank you Kym, and you are more than welcome. Community really is the answer to everything. Although it looks different now, I think as long as we remain in service to others, we are allowing that grief to manifest in us in way that radiates out the love we still had left to give. I am already looking forward to your Substack, you will help so many, I can already feel it x
“Write as if your audience is small… like you are in a room talking intimately with friends. You could be the catalyst for someone else’s bravery. They could see your writing as a permission slip to share who they are. What could be better than that?” Well said, Anna. Reading this lovely post, I felt we were sharing a pot of tea together. The most powerful first-person writing, whether by an unknown or a bestselling author, has this alluring intimacy, this sense that the author has been expecting you.
Wow Rona, you’re making my day over here! I am so glad you felt like we were sharing tea, I’d offer you a biscuit if I could! Rich teas and dark mint chocolate KitKats would definitely be in the tin.
I totally agree with you, there is nothing more wonderful than being invited in by someone’s writing, that’s what I so love about the writing here on Substack. It’s just great isn’t it? Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment x
Thank you so much for this powerful and relatable piece, Anna! That line from Beth Kempton about your writing always being medicine for someone else is really sticking with me too. Reading has saved me and comforted me many many times. I hope that my own writing can do the same for others, much like your piece here Anna. :)
Thank you so much elle. Isn’t it amazing how one comment can just stick with you? Beth really does have a way with words. I think as writers we should have it written in big letters above our desks “your writing is medicine for someone”. Without realising it there are people that read what you write every week and it soothes them, so keep writing, they need you! Much love x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose, Rose G.
Dear Anna Rose, this is the most beautiful essay. Thank you so much for sharing. Dealing with grief is the hardest thing--probably b.c for some of us, it never leaves. I am so glad you've found some solace by writing here and in your letters to your father. I've always heard that even when those we love have passed, writing letters to them as though they were still with us in very good 'medicine.' All the best to you, dear Anna.
Thank you so much Jeanine, what lovely words. I already feel that I will carry him with me always, and I don’t doubt that I will continue to talk to him whenever the moment comes. Grief has made me feel connected and more spiritual, a knowing perhaps that there is more to this life than just this one. This weekend someone said to me “this life is just one night’s dream in your souls evolution” it resonated so strongly, I am sure that as long as I keep writing the Letters he will always hear me. Thank you again Jeanine.
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), Anna Rose, Rose G.
What a beautiful thought Anna. And I do believe it is true. Those departed are remembered and live on when we remember them and speak of them. I forget which society it is, but when someone has been shunned, the others in the community are not allowed to speak their name, which in essence annihilates them. By speaking of our departed loved ones, they live on. I think it’s why great civilizations like the Egyptians made huge statues of their beloved rulers— in so doing, their life goes on. Who could ever forget those pharaohs from the Valley of the Kings?
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose, Rose G.
I’m so very grateful for your writing this, and grief is such a powerful thing. I’ve weaved in and out of it my whole life, and have found so many companions on the path who were able to hold space for it, and all the strange ways it manifests. I’ve also had the honour of making space for the grief of others, and it always does feel like an honour when someone shares their grief with me.
The book I’ve just finished the first draft of is an honouring of grief, and the ways it finds ways to express itself in our lives.
I am also grateful for your perspective on smallness and community. Thank you.
You are welcome Wake. Your community are so lucky to have you. I am sorry to hear you have experienced so much loss but I wonder if that has made you the space holder you are for others? Although I experienced loss in my teenager years, it feels somewhat different as an adult. Grief really is a powerhouse of emotion I agree with you, and sometimes I wonder whether one word can actually capture it.
Your book sounds wonderful, and I am sure will help many people as they read it. The word ‘honour’ is coming up for me a lot lately, and hearing you use that too makes me feel it is an important aspect of all of this. Thank you so much for your response Wake. Much love x
That is such a beautiful perspective. Thank you for taking a moment to respond. I appreciate you, and absolutely grief the word doesn’t cover all the feelings. I fell in love with with the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows when it was a web project, and used to run a show centering sorrow called A Necessary Sadness in Seattle for comedians who needed a place beyond laughter and hiding from grief based on the dictionary.
Would it be alright for me to follow your journey?
Of course Wake you are more than welcome too and I would love to have you with me. This might sound silly but I feel the more people know about Dad and how awesome he is the more the energy around him will be raised, and that no matter how long we’ve got he will feel such immense love surrounding him. Who knows the hope and the love may give us longer, even if it is just a minute. I must look up the dictionary of obscure sorrows. I’d like to see what it is all about x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose
Oh! I’d love to send you a copy when it’s real world realized! It’s going to be part talisman/part book. 💖💖💖 I so appreciate you and your writing elle!
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose, Rose G.
This is exactly what I needed to read today. Finding joy in a small life after a big one. Working within a worldwide community, the fair weather friends vanish, so I am extremely grateful now for the rough weather friends who remain. Hold fast.
Anna I often struggle and wonder if more people would read or engage with my writing if I didn’t write about such “heavy” topics. Yet I know I must write as I am, and hope the people who need it “as medicine” will find it. Thanks for this beautiful reminder and encouragement 💗
Absolutely. We keep showing up and writing what we must write, and people will come and go when they need us the most. I was thinking about it this morning and I was thinking I should celebrate when a subscriber leaves because I’ve provided them with everything they required. Like a fledgling leaving the nest of what I have communicated. The encouragement is always there if you need it. Hurray for substack and small communities like these!x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), elle kennedy fell, Anna Rose, Rose G.
Ugh. I feel such heavy relief in this feature on the power of writing, community, and grief on Substack.
I have been writing about the death of my son Han on Substack. I have been able to connect with people I know and also find people who I can find common ground with. Unfortunately, that common ground is loss. I am sad we have all lost but find some relief in the community here.
I will be thinking of you, your dad, and hoping that the odds are in your favor.
Finding relief in community, in connection, is vital as you grieve the loss of your son. Thank you, Amy, for sharing here with SmallStack readers. May your Good Griefing stack help in your healing.
Amy, I am so glad we have connected. I am so sorry for your loss. Sometimes we wish to connect with others in better circumstances, but perhaps we are have all found ourselves here at the right time to support one another. I have found that being seen in my grief feels like a weight lifts, even if it is just for a micro second. So if I have been able to do that for you today, then writing the article was worth while. Sending you so much love xx
Yeah, there is something about the concept of “witnessing” each others grief that offers some comfort. Grief is hard to bear, but we eventually all live through it.
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), Anna Rose, Rose G.
Just beautiful, Anna, even in the face of grief. Knowing that a loved one's time is shorter than you ever thought makes each moment sparkle with clarity, even as it tugs with impending loss.
I lost my father when I was 31 years old and my boys were 2 months old and 2 years old. There was a fear to really talk about cancer as if we didn't know that he wasn't going to get better. Too much of the time with my dad was spent avoiding the big talks.
What I did say to my dad as we said goodbye was that I would see him in my dreams. And I do. He pops in, gives guidance, and waits for my mom--the love of his life.
I look forward to read your writing. Sending you hugs and comfort in your journey.
Thank you Janine. I feel such a connection when I read these comments, especially yours, I can just sense how much you get it. What it means to lose a father.
I’m so glad you still see him. Dad and I have two symbols that have been recurring since his diagnosis; a white feather and a bee. He recently bought me a silver necklace with a feather on it and he said when he passes I’ll know he’s still there, he’ll send me feathers. There is more to life than this short time we have right now, that is way beyond our comprehension, what you say about dreams really resonates with me. Also your mum. I watch my parents love from the sidelines every day and feel as if I am starting to understand what it all means; to love and be loved.
Thank you for your comment, it is of great comfort. I feel the more people that know about dad, the more loving energy he will have around him so thank you xx
Thank you so much Janine, we have found dreams to be incredibly powerful right now. My parents love really is one to behold. It took me almost a year to write even a snippet of their love story and press publish on it a couple of weeks ago, even that only scratches the surface of it. Thank you for being here and providing your wise words.
Those moments that "sparkle with clarity," so well written, Janine!
My dad died a little over a year ago. Though, like you, we didn't have "the big talks" — how many can do that in a society that tells us to fear mortality? — I cherish the little ways I demonstrated my love through actions and all the times I got to say "I love you" during hospital visits. Those are the moment that sparkle in my memory.
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), Anna Rose, Rose G.
Thank you for sharing this Anna, so many great reminders throughout this piece 💖
Grief was the subject of my first post on Substack, when I had maybe two subscribers, and though it is not one of the most popular in terms of likes/comments, its one I return to read myself on occasion, and that I have received private messages about, on and off Substack, when people come across it - always a lovely reminder that we never know who will feel "seen" by our words ✒️
I agree with you Lauren. I often find we have silent readers too, readers who feel our words deeply but we never talk to. I’m sure many are reading and rereading your words just like you . Thank you so much for sharing and I look forward to reading it too. Much love x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), Anna Rose, Rose G.
A truly beautiful article. I also started writing out of grief. I lost my daughter in Feb. The power of community can not be over stated. Through writing, I’ve connected with other people who have lost young children. Not only was this beautifully written, but every word was steeped in so much truth.
I am so glad this has touched you Courtney. I am so sorry for your loss. As I read and respond to each comment here I feel the community as you do. Knowing that we are seen can be a comfort, and I hope you know you are seen and that anyone that reads your writing or your comment here will hold the space for you. Writing holds so much power and I am so glad we are all connecting in this way. Sending so much love and thank you so much for being here x
What a gorgeous piece, Anna! I think a lot about grief, having lost many dear beings over the course of my life. I've heard it said that grief is the price of love, but that doesn't feel quite right to me. Grief is not punishment, however much it hurts. I think grief is the shadow of love -- a dark, rich, and integral part of the experience of loving a fellow finite being. The greater we love, the longer the shadow our love casts. I can see in your words that your grief casts a very long shadow. I hope that you and your father both can find joy and comfort as you tend and allow yourselves to be tended to in community.
Thank you so much Robin. The comments section on this article have been so heart opening. How lucky we are to connect with people in such a way. This is where life resides, right here in these talks.
Grief is the price we pay for love, I have heard that said often too. I just love how you have reframed this, I really do. Thank you for your words, Dad and I can feel the energy around us raising already. Much love to you x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), Anna Rose, Rose G.
I love what you said about not sending your pieces out - I started writing here in May and only recently began sending them to people and publicly posting.
I needed that time to get comfortable with it, build my confidence, deal with any setbacks etc. I’m so grateful to the folks who found my writing during those months - because they feel like they genuinely WANT to be here and are so supportive!
Another reason I love SmallStack - you really do feel supported.
I 100% agree. I think over time you realise there is a power and an elixir in your vulnerability, your softness and those very human edges. And as others read them in some way they also become healed too. Hurrah for Substack, it really is a wonderful place x
Aug 21Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), Anna Rose, Rose G.
I really appreciate this post. I was writing here before the death of my partner this summer. My writing is accommodating that overwhelming shift as I navigate loss and grief (and I am grateful for the space and a small community of readers). In this process, I have been looking for, and becoming more aware of, the many people writing beautifully and with great tenderness and insight from different vantages within this space. I wish I had started finding community during the years "before" this summer.
Thank you Amy, and I’m sorry to hear of your loss. I’ve thought that too but sometimes I wonder whether we find the community at the right time that we need it, that perhaps until the moment we found them we wouldn’t have appreciated or connected in such a way. I am glad writing helps you and I’m sure it helps many others too. We are all so lucky to have found one another x
Aug 22Liked by Robin Cangie (she/her), Erin Michaela Sweeney, Anna Rose
This was so lovingly touching.
No one should even think for a moment to step on the sacredness of a shared story like yours with your dad. Time together is too precious. When I walked a similar path with my dad, resigning my position as an educator to help shepherd him through his dementia, his dying, and his death, we built moments that will last for the entirety of my lifetime. We didn’t lose my dad by his dying; we gained my dad in new and meaningful ways. Whereas my dad always lived somewhere else when he was alive, now he lives within me. So my dad didn’t “pass away,” we didn’t lose him. We discovered him anew—even as we navigated a grief that allowed for that new transformation of manifestation. My dad will only truly die when those who are charged with the memories of him forget, or worse, stop telling his story.
I’m grateful you have shared this story of your day—I’d look forward to the sharing of more. That way, your dad gets to also live a little…in me.
Kert, thank you. You’ve managed to put into words exactly how I have felt “we gained my dad in new and meaningful ways”. The word shepherd is an incredibly powerful one. Over the last few years my spirituality through meditation etc has deepened before my dad got sick. I often wonder if that was a universal plan and whether my role in all this is and always was to support his transition to the next point in a way that he feels as at peace as possible. He has certainly talked a lot more about spirituality in the last year and it has helped him.
I also hoped by writing this that the more people that heard Dads story the more the energy would surround him and us and hopefully lift him without him knowing. I never considered the possibility that by sharing his story he would also go on to live in others so to think this way has brought me much joy. Thank you.
I hope you are doing ok. I also have given up my job as an educator, it’s funny how we cross paths with people and our stories intertwine. Thank you again for your comment it really has been great to read x
Anna's story is a beautiful testament to the unexpected ways healing can happen. It's incredible how sharing our vulnerabilities can create such profound connections. Her honesty about feeling isolated in your grief, and then finding solace in the Substack community, really resonates.
It's a reminder that even when we feel most alone, we're never truly alone in our experiences.
Thank you Alex, this has really touched me. I agree with you, we often worry about sharing our deepest worries and fears and as you share them you realise they are the same worries and fears as others, and before you know it a network builds. Our vulnerabilities connect us. Community is always the answer. Thank you again x
"Sharing our vulnerabilities can create such profound connections"... this couldn't be more true!
I also write about grief...and every time I think, "who would want to read this?" another comment shows up telling me that there is comfort in community. Thanks for this post...more affirmation.
Yes Cindy absolutely. In the early days of my writing I used to think no one would want to read it, perhaps its all a bit too gloomy for everyone. I soon realised I also found beauty in grief. Grief allowed me to feel more joy, feel more, live more. As Mary Oliver says “We shake with joy, we shake with grief. What a time they have, these two housed as they are in the same body”, and I think that is where the beauty in the writing lies, how we interweave these emotions, how they bring us alive. I am glad this has given you affirmation, keep writing, we all need it. Much love x
This deeply resonates with me. Losing my dad to dementia fuelled my move to working in the funeral industry and to complete an MA in Death, Religion and Culture. While I no longer work in the funeral industry it is always something close to my heart. Being able to be there for someone, holding space so they can be, sit and face their grief. Anna writes beautifully and with heart. It is this authenticity that attracts her community and fills everyone with love.
Thank you so much Kym What it is to lose a parent. I am sorry for your loss, and I hope that you are finding the time and space to hold your grief. It is so interesting to hear how you studied for an MA and then worked in the funeral industry. I have often wondered whether my role in all of this is to guide Dad in the most peaceful way through this transition. It made me wonder that if this is to change me forever, how can I be of service, how can I turn this into something good.
Your community are very lucky to have you holding space and being there for them when they need you. Much love x
Hi Anna, thank you for the reply. I absolutely felt the same, that beautiful phrase, to be of service, that is how it felt to me. Life circumstances pulled me away from that but I still feel like it is a mantra for me, perhaps now it looks a little different that's all. I will be starting my own substack soon, it will include elements from my MA. I hope that one day my writing will help others as your writing does. 🧡
Thank you Kym, and you are more than welcome. Community really is the answer to everything. Although it looks different now, I think as long as we remain in service to others, we are allowing that grief to manifest in us in way that radiates out the love we still had left to give. I am already looking forward to your Substack, you will help so many, I can already feel it x
Thank you so much, I am grateful to Substack and Small Substack to have allowed me to find you and follow you to see more of your work x
“Write as if your audience is small… like you are in a room talking intimately with friends. You could be the catalyst for someone else’s bravery. They could see your writing as a permission slip to share who they are. What could be better than that?” Well said, Anna. Reading this lovely post, I felt we were sharing a pot of tea together. The most powerful first-person writing, whether by an unknown or a bestselling author, has this alluring intimacy, this sense that the author has been expecting you.
Wow Rona, you’re making my day over here! I am so glad you felt like we were sharing tea, I’d offer you a biscuit if I could! Rich teas and dark mint chocolate KitKats would definitely be in the tin.
I totally agree with you, there is nothing more wonderful than being invited in by someone’s writing, that’s what I so love about the writing here on Substack. It’s just great isn’t it? Thank you so much for your thoughtful comment x
Thank you so much for this powerful and relatable piece, Anna! That line from Beth Kempton about your writing always being medicine for someone else is really sticking with me too. Reading has saved me and comforted me many many times. I hope that my own writing can do the same for others, much like your piece here Anna. :)
Thank you so much elle. Isn’t it amazing how one comment can just stick with you? Beth really does have a way with words. I think as writers we should have it written in big letters above our desks “your writing is medicine for someone”. Without realising it there are people that read what you write every week and it soothes them, so keep writing, they need you! Much love x
Dear Anna Rose, this is the most beautiful essay. Thank you so much for sharing. Dealing with grief is the hardest thing--probably b.c for some of us, it never leaves. I am so glad you've found some solace by writing here and in your letters to your father. I've always heard that even when those we love have passed, writing letters to them as though they were still with us in very good 'medicine.' All the best to you, dear Anna.
Thank you so much Jeanine, what lovely words. I already feel that I will carry him with me always, and I don’t doubt that I will continue to talk to him whenever the moment comes. Grief has made me feel connected and more spiritual, a knowing perhaps that there is more to this life than just this one. This weekend someone said to me “this life is just one night’s dream in your souls evolution” it resonated so strongly, I am sure that as long as I keep writing the Letters he will always hear me. Thank you again Jeanine.
What a beautiful thought Anna. And I do believe it is true. Those departed are remembered and live on when we remember them and speak of them. I forget which society it is, but when someone has been shunned, the others in the community are not allowed to speak their name, which in essence annihilates them. By speaking of our departed loved ones, they live on. I think it’s why great civilizations like the Egyptians made huge statues of their beloved rulers— in so doing, their life goes on. Who could ever forget those pharaohs from the Valley of the Kings?
I’m so very grateful for your writing this, and grief is such a powerful thing. I’ve weaved in and out of it my whole life, and have found so many companions on the path who were able to hold space for it, and all the strange ways it manifests. I’ve also had the honour of making space for the grief of others, and it always does feel like an honour when someone shares their grief with me.
The book I’ve just finished the first draft of is an honouring of grief, and the ways it finds ways to express itself in our lives.
I am also grateful for your perspective on smallness and community. Thank you.
You are welcome Wake. Your community are so lucky to have you. I am sorry to hear you have experienced so much loss but I wonder if that has made you the space holder you are for others? Although I experienced loss in my teenager years, it feels somewhat different as an adult. Grief really is a powerhouse of emotion I agree with you, and sometimes I wonder whether one word can actually capture it.
Your book sounds wonderful, and I am sure will help many people as they read it. The word ‘honour’ is coming up for me a lot lately, and hearing you use that too makes me feel it is an important aspect of all of this. Thank you so much for your response Wake. Much love x
That is such a beautiful perspective. Thank you for taking a moment to respond. I appreciate you, and absolutely grief the word doesn’t cover all the feelings. I fell in love with with the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows when it was a web project, and used to run a show centering sorrow called A Necessary Sadness in Seattle for comedians who needed a place beyond laughter and hiding from grief based on the dictionary.
Would it be alright for me to follow your journey?
Of course Wake you are more than welcome too and I would love to have you with me. This might sound silly but I feel the more people know about Dad and how awesome he is the more the energy around him will be raised, and that no matter how long we’ve got he will feel such immense love surrounding him. Who knows the hope and the love may give us longer, even if it is just a minute. I must look up the dictionary of obscure sorrows. I’d like to see what it is all about x
Thank you. I’m grateful to be walking the path alongside you and excited to be a part of celebrating your Dad. 💖
I am so excited for your book, Wake! :)
Oh! I’d love to send you a copy when it’s real world realized! It’s going to be part talisman/part book. 💖💖💖 I so appreciate you and your writing elle!
Grief. 💔
This is exactly what I needed to read today. Finding joy in a small life after a big one. Working within a worldwide community, the fair weather friends vanish, so I am extremely grateful now for the rough weather friends who remain. Hold fast.
Thank you so much. Those friends that remain are the gold, and we find them as time gets rocky. I’m glad you have found yours too x
Anna I often struggle and wonder if more people would read or engage with my writing if I didn’t write about such “heavy” topics. Yet I know I must write as I am, and hope the people who need it “as medicine” will find it. Thanks for this beautiful reminder and encouragement 💗
Absolutely. We keep showing up and writing what we must write, and people will come and go when they need us the most. I was thinking about it this morning and I was thinking I should celebrate when a subscriber leaves because I’ve provided them with everything they required. Like a fledgling leaving the nest of what I have communicated. The encouragement is always there if you need it. Hurray for substack and small communities like these!x
An interesting and hopeful perspective, Anna. Thanks for a beautiful, poignant essay
Thank you, you are so welcome. Dr Wayne Dyer once said “I am realistic. I believe in miracles.” A motto to live by I believe.
Ugh. I feel such heavy relief in this feature on the power of writing, community, and grief on Substack.
I have been writing about the death of my son Han on Substack. I have been able to connect with people I know and also find people who I can find common ground with. Unfortunately, that common ground is loss. I am sad we have all lost but find some relief in the community here.
I will be thinking of you, your dad, and hoping that the odds are in your favor.
Finding relief in community, in connection, is vital as you grieve the loss of your son. Thank you, Amy, for sharing here with SmallStack readers. May your Good Griefing stack help in your healing.
Amy, I am so glad we have connected. I am so sorry for your loss. Sometimes we wish to connect with others in better circumstances, but perhaps we are have all found ourselves here at the right time to support one another. I have found that being seen in my grief feels like a weight lifts, even if it is just for a micro second. So if I have been able to do that for you today, then writing the article was worth while. Sending you so much love xx
"I have found that being seen in my grief feels like a weight lifts, even if it is just for a micro second."
This is so true. Thank you for sharing with us so that we can see you, and be seen in return.
Yeah, there is something about the concept of “witnessing” each others grief that offers some comfort. Grief is hard to bear, but we eventually all live through it.
Just beautiful, Anna, even in the face of grief. Knowing that a loved one's time is shorter than you ever thought makes each moment sparkle with clarity, even as it tugs with impending loss.
I lost my father when I was 31 years old and my boys were 2 months old and 2 years old. There was a fear to really talk about cancer as if we didn't know that he wasn't going to get better. Too much of the time with my dad was spent avoiding the big talks.
What I did say to my dad as we said goodbye was that I would see him in my dreams. And I do. He pops in, gives guidance, and waits for my mom--the love of his life.
I look forward to read your writing. Sending you hugs and comfort in your journey.
Thank you Janine. I feel such a connection when I read these comments, especially yours, I can just sense how much you get it. What it means to lose a father.
I’m so glad you still see him. Dad and I have two symbols that have been recurring since his diagnosis; a white feather and a bee. He recently bought me a silver necklace with a feather on it and he said when he passes I’ll know he’s still there, he’ll send me feathers. There is more to life than this short time we have right now, that is way beyond our comprehension, what you say about dreams really resonates with me. Also your mum. I watch my parents love from the sidelines every day and feel as if I am starting to understand what it all means; to love and be loved.
Thank you for your comment, it is of great comfort. I feel the more people that know about dad, the more loving energy he will have around him so thank you xx
How wonderful that you're able to have these conversations. That you have clear signs of when he's giving you a nudge or visiting is priceless.
In my journey working with dreams, I have helped others cross over by also asking who would they like to greet them when they arrive.
What is a spot that you both enjoyed where you can journey together in your dreams? Understanding that now will grow your connection. ❤️
Your parents' love sounds timeless!
Thank you so much Janine, we have found dreams to be incredibly powerful right now. My parents love really is one to behold. It took me almost a year to write even a snippet of their love story and press publish on it a couple of weeks ago, even that only scratches the surface of it. Thank you for being here and providing your wise words.
Looking forward to reading more about their love story ❤️❤️
Those moments that "sparkle with clarity," so well written, Janine!
My dad died a little over a year ago. Though, like you, we didn't have "the big talks" — how many can do that in a society that tells us to fear mortality? — I cherish the little ways I demonstrated my love through actions and all the times I got to say "I love you" during hospital visits. Those are the moment that sparkle in my memory.
Thank you for sharing and connecting here.
Erin, I'm sorry to hear about your dad.
How lovely that you have those moments and showed your love. May those sparkles feel like a warm hug from your dad.❤️
Thank you for sharing this Anna, so many great reminders throughout this piece 💖
Grief was the subject of my first post on Substack, when I had maybe two subscribers, and though it is not one of the most popular in terms of likes/comments, its one I return to read myself on occasion, and that I have received private messages about, on and off Substack, when people come across it - always a lovely reminder that we never know who will feel "seen" by our words ✒️
(here if you want to take a look - https://laurenkatepowell.substack.com/p/musings-on-grief)
I agree with you Lauren. I often find we have silent readers too, readers who feel our words deeply but we never talk to. I’m sure many are reading and rereading your words just like you . Thank you so much for sharing and I look forward to reading it too. Much love x
Thank you for your kind words, and yes, a lovely thought indeed.
Thank you, and sending love right back 💝
A truly beautiful article. I also started writing out of grief. I lost my daughter in Feb. The power of community can not be over stated. Through writing, I’ve connected with other people who have lost young children. Not only was this beautifully written, but every word was steeped in so much truth.
I am so glad this has touched you Courtney. I am so sorry for your loss. As I read and respond to each comment here I feel the community as you do. Knowing that we are seen can be a comfort, and I hope you know you are seen and that anyone that reads your writing or your comment here will hold the space for you. Writing holds so much power and I am so glad we are all connecting in this way. Sending so much love and thank you so much for being here x
What a gorgeous piece, Anna! I think a lot about grief, having lost many dear beings over the course of my life. I've heard it said that grief is the price of love, but that doesn't feel quite right to me. Grief is not punishment, however much it hurts. I think grief is the shadow of love -- a dark, rich, and integral part of the experience of loving a fellow finite being. The greater we love, the longer the shadow our love casts. I can see in your words that your grief casts a very long shadow. I hope that you and your father both can find joy and comfort as you tend and allow yourselves to be tended to in community.
Thank you so much Robin. The comments section on this article have been so heart opening. How lucky we are to connect with people in such a way. This is where life resides, right here in these talks.
Grief is the price we pay for love, I have heard that said often too. I just love how you have reframed this, I really do. Thank you for your words, Dad and I can feel the energy around us raising already. Much love to you x
Love that saying…grief I the shadow of love…🩶
I love what you said about not sending your pieces out - I started writing here in May and only recently began sending them to people and publicly posting.
I needed that time to get comfortable with it, build my confidence, deal with any setbacks etc. I’m so grateful to the folks who found my writing during those months - because they feel like they genuinely WANT to be here and are so supportive!
Another reason I love SmallStack - you really do feel supported.
I 100% agree. I think over time you realise there is a power and an elixir in your vulnerability, your softness and those very human edges. And as others read them in some way they also become healed too. Hurrah for Substack, it really is a wonderful place x
Hurrah indeed! I’m very happy to have made a home here!
I really appreciate this post. I was writing here before the death of my partner this summer. My writing is accommodating that overwhelming shift as I navigate loss and grief (and I am grateful for the space and a small community of readers). In this process, I have been looking for, and becoming more aware of, the many people writing beautifully and with great tenderness and insight from different vantages within this space. I wish I had started finding community during the years "before" this summer.
Thank you Amy, and I’m sorry to hear of your loss. I’ve thought that too but sometimes I wonder whether we find the community at the right time that we need it, that perhaps until the moment we found them we wouldn’t have appreciated or connected in such a way. I am glad writing helps you and I’m sure it helps many others too. We are all so lucky to have found one another x
This was so lovingly touching.
No one should even think for a moment to step on the sacredness of a shared story like yours with your dad. Time together is too precious. When I walked a similar path with my dad, resigning my position as an educator to help shepherd him through his dementia, his dying, and his death, we built moments that will last for the entirety of my lifetime. We didn’t lose my dad by his dying; we gained my dad in new and meaningful ways. Whereas my dad always lived somewhere else when he was alive, now he lives within me. So my dad didn’t “pass away,” we didn’t lose him. We discovered him anew—even as we navigated a grief that allowed for that new transformation of manifestation. My dad will only truly die when those who are charged with the memories of him forget, or worse, stop telling his story.
I’m grateful you have shared this story of your day—I’d look forward to the sharing of more. That way, your dad gets to also live a little…in me.
Discovering your dad anew — what a lovely sentiment, Kert. Thank you for sharing.
Kert, thank you. You’ve managed to put into words exactly how I have felt “we gained my dad in new and meaningful ways”. The word shepherd is an incredibly powerful one. Over the last few years my spirituality through meditation etc has deepened before my dad got sick. I often wonder if that was a universal plan and whether my role in all this is and always was to support his transition to the next point in a way that he feels as at peace as possible. He has certainly talked a lot more about spirituality in the last year and it has helped him.
I also hoped by writing this that the more people that heard Dads story the more the energy would surround him and us and hopefully lift him without him knowing. I never considered the possibility that by sharing his story he would also go on to live in others so to think this way has brought me much joy. Thank you.
I hope you are doing ok. I also have given up my job as an educator, it’s funny how we cross paths with people and our stories intertwine. Thank you again for your comment it really has been great to read x