From “My Father Died, I Dyed My Hair Blue” by Caitlin Corbett:
“When someone dies, neither the grieving or the well-wishers know what to do about it. We know we have to have a funeral, but after that it all falls apart.
We don’t wear black. We don’t shave our heads. We don’t go into seclusion. Nothing is different.
Except, of course, everything is different. We just have no way of showing it.”
Read the whole article, and more intimate stories on Death and Grieving when the Taboo Tab launches on Friday, February 22nd.
I love this. Sort of reminds me of something my therapist said.. “Going to war and losing a limb, you are seen as making a sacrifice for your county. You gave your leg. Coming back whole and having PTSD, that is a sacrifice too. People just can’t see it.” I wish there was some way people could see the hurt…
Thanks so much! Caitlin has some wonderful writing on invisible scars, I’m sure you’ll really enjoy her work on the 22nd. Stay tuned! Thank you for reading! 🙂
I’m really looking foward to reading this on Friday.
Thanks! You’re going to love it. So excited!
Reblogged this on A Rich, Full Life In Spite of It and commented:
I’ve contributed a post to Shauna’s debut topic, and I’d appreciate your support tomorrow as she launches her new page, The Taboo Tab. If you’ve lost someone close to you, I think you’ll find some good connections and honest discussion here.
I look forward to this Shauna…as you know, it is something I deal alot with in my line of work. I am very interested in what the contributors have to say. Hope all is well @the big S
Thanks! I just posted the articles, they’re available here: https://shaunanagins.com/the-taboo-tab/death-grieving/
God bless!
Nothing changed; everything changed. That’s exactly how it feels, and in either case you wonder why no one but you notices that this person is no longer walking the Earth. Eventually, you understand and accept that the reason you notice the absence is because of the grace you were given having them in your life.
Beautifully said as always, Ned. Thank you!