Dear Katiejane, I am sorry … this is a very hard situation for you. I was in a different situation as my daughter was not living at home and she had her own home when we lost her, but I wanted to reach out to you. I did however have to clear her house out and that was about the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Just heartbreaking.
I think it is good that you are going back to your home even though you are not sleeping there, as baby steps is the way forward and we should not push ourselves too hard. I am glad that you have your brother so close as he is clearly a big support to you and I am sure you have many memories of happy times with your daughter in the house and I hope they give you comfort as you move forward.
I am sure there are others here who are in a similar position to you and can help by sharing their experiences. Sending you big hugs xxx
Dear Katie Jane,
I am sorry for the loss of your precious daughter, its still such early days for you and my heart breaks for you 
, Victoria’s advice is spot on about taking baby steps, you will know when the time is right to go back home, eventually you will take comfort from being there, as she said you must have so many happy memories there. Don’t set targets for yourself, take your time and do what you feel is best for you. Our son lived with us and his two sisters but was in the Army so he was away a lot, sometimes I feel he is away and will soon return, I don’t think this will ever change, his room is just as he left it, I don’t go in often but take comfort from everything being there, the house is full of photos of him and I talk to him often, all we can do is tell you what our experiences are and hope it helps, don’t put pressure on yourself, keep posting to let us know how you are doing as we are all here for you, take care 
Love Michelle xxxx
Dear Maddie and all, I remember when Wynne started this thread so long ago, just a few weeks after I lost my daughter (and you were there too!). I was looking back yesterday at the first posts and found this one from bir89c which I think is well worth posting again.
‘Grief never ends…
But it changes.
It’s a passage
not a place to stay.
Grief is not a sign of weakness or lack of faith.
It is the price of love.’
A big hug to all, Kathy x
Hi Kathy,
Just looked at my phone and saw the lovely quote you posted about grief. It gives a glimmer of hope, I suppose.
I woke at 5 today, so three hours ago, in spite of having had several glasses of wine last night and a Temesta. First thought whilst gripped by an invisible vice: yep, my sweet Joey. Read through his texts written during the last weeks, looked at his face book posts, watched the celebration of his life again. It had been videotaped for family and friends in Canada, Australia & elsewhere. I should get up and take a shower but I have no desire to. I hear the neighbours getting ready for their busy days; work & school. But I don’t want to do a thing.
My iPhone calendar was always filled with appointments: work, excursions, meetings. Now nothing. I’ve wiped it clean. I was supposed to go to my gynaecologist for my yearly check up today, but I cancelled that too. The doc has his office in the same hospital where my son died two weeks ago. Wild horses couldn’t drag me there!
Someone here on this site talked about baby steps. I’ll try and do some e-banking today and water the plants (although most are dead after three weeks of neglect), and perhaps walk around the block, although I can’t really face leaving my room let alone the house… I dare say I’ll be drained after that and collapse in bed again.
Does this lethargy and crippling sorrow ever stop. I’m lucky to have a husband who puts a plate of food in front of me and brings me endless cups of tea. I can’t stand what my life has become. I liked my life before and I adored my son. For the last 16 months, but especially the last 6 months when his disease went out of control, he was my raison d’être. That’s gone now. 
Hi Marina,
I remember UB40 singing red red wine I saw them in the Black Country just outside Birmingham
xxH
Dear All ,
I lost my beautiful son Jack who had just turned 30 suddenly and unexpectedly in June of a cardiac arrest.
He had previously battled aplastic anaemia which resulted in a bone marrow transplant age 18. It was long hard road to recovery but eventually he was back to living life to the full.
Then in 2018 he became unwell again and was diagnosed with stage 4 lymphoma. He underwent 6 months of gruelling chemotherapy, It was horrendous but he was so brave and got to ring the end of treatment bell! and was given the all clear last year. Again he was back living life to the full,
He was so full of life , so strong and courageous, with the heart of a lion.
The day I got that phone call on the 30th June, it changed our lives forever.
We miss him so much. Like for all of you, the pain is unbearable.
I feel like I now live a double life, I get up every day and function, I do the day to day things, I even smile and laugh sometimes but that is not the real me .
The real me is somewhere else screaming, howling in the most horrendous pain .
I can’t talk about him , I can’t look at photos or recall memories, it’s just too painful but that make me feel so guilty.
I just don’t know how to move on.
Would welcome any advice.
Dear Samantha I’m so very sorry for your loss - yes, everyone here can so identify with those feeling your have.
My son Joey only died two weeks ago so my grief is still very very raw. But all I do is look at the hundreds of pictures of him. He died of metastatic testicular cancer, 16 months - many of which were horrendous - after he was diagnosed.
Right after he was diagnosed he started a videoblog of his cancer journey with a Norwegian friend from his film school days in London. Having a Ball it’s called, chronicling his cancer journey with humour and finesse. I can therefore watch all these videos - some 20 hours of them - as much as I want. And that’s about all I’ve been doing this past week since his funeral. It’s like he’s in the next room. The last one he recorded was done in the hospital , only 6 days before he died.
Have you tried looking as his photos? Have you tried talking about the happy times you had with him with your family and friends? I find that is precisely what I need. Yes, since his death was so very recent I scream out in despair and spend countless hours crying but that does not mean I don’t want to see his face. Your son will always be in your life, in your heart, like my son Joey us in mine.
I wish you much strength!
Dear Samantha, I’m so sorry to hear you lost your son Jack. The death of a child is the worst thing.
It sounds as if Jack was very brave and strong to come through all the health problems he experienced. You must have been strong too, during those times.
To lose him suddenly would have been a tremendous shock. I’m sure you are still reeling.
My dearly-loved son died in April, leaving a huge chasm in my life. He was bright and funny and loving. We all miss him terribly, so I know how sad you must be feeling.
On this site we try to help and encourage each other, as we are all going through grief. I hope it helps you to connect with others. Thank you for sharing your story and reaching out to others.
I hope your pain will gradually ease. With love - SusanJ
Oh my love, that’s just horrendous. After all your boy had battled through. My heart goes out to you. You have found friends here who know exactly how you feel. I joined this group 6 weeks after we lost our younger daughter. I was a complete mess, inside and out. Here I was immediately picked up and understood, cared for and loved by complete strangers who guided me through my grief.
Keep in touch. Only we know how terrible this feels.
Much live, Kate xx
Oh Susan , what a brave wonderful son you have , all of our darling children gave us such wonderful memories . And to all of us are suffering with the way they passed . They were so brave . I can’t remember Dawn complaining , she did say mum I know I have to get my life sorted out . Then 6!days later she was gone, . My heart aches for you , I know exactly what you are going through , and we are here for you . Maddie cxxx
Dear friends, its been more than a week since I visited you all. Hope you are finding strength and comfort from this site.
It’s weird how, even almost 3 and a half years on from losing Lisa, I still weep in the car when I pass our children’s old primary school, wedding venues where I helped Lisa with the flowers, see my car which I gave to her in 2018 when I got a new one. The tears roll down my cheeks but I can now pull myself back.
This weekend when Brooke was here, Jemma too was a lovely one. At bedtime Brooke said her tooth was painful and sure enough her first ever baby tooth was wobbly.
Sunday morning it was very loose and fell out on our way back to her Daddy in the car. Of course she dropped it and was panicking about it in case the tooth fairy might not come. Thankfully Granny found it in her car seat after she got out. It was this milestone too that got the tears rolling after I had left her and the tooth with Daddy. I remembered Lisa being so excited when she saw this first tooth pushing up when Brooke was nearly a year old. She was beginning to think Brooke was not going to get any! To think that her wee girl has just lost that tooth and she was not here to share this moment.
Silly the things that bring us down when we think we’ve been OK for a while.
Love to you all, especially to those new members of this group. Life goes on for us. Not like it was , not even close but it goes on.
Kate xxx
Hi Kate, I guess the love we have for our children is so great that unfortunately the grief of losing them matching the intensity of that love. I lost my son in May and the pain is unbearable, as you clearly know, but I’m also struggling with the guilt of living when my son isn’t, how can I possibly learn to live a world without him, I know I have to for my other two sons and husband but can’t shake that guilt feeling, almost as though I’m betraying his memory if I try to live a life, even though I know my son would hate to see me like this and would tell me to live as happy as I possibly could, so I feel guilty for that as well, I’m stuck in a vicious circle and don’t know how to get out, does any of that make sense? Someone told me that acceptance is the key but do we ever really accept that our children are gone, I don’t see how we can but it’s when that reality hits again and again that my heart breaks all over again
Dear friend. What you are feeling is the same turmoil we have all felt. Why am I still here. Why wasn’t it Lisa sitting at my bedside not tother way round. It’s a terrible feeling. I think we have all felt guilt in one way or another. Should I have noticed things changing, should I have protected my child more than I did. Even though they were adults we still want and need to protect them.
These feelings you have just now are natural in the grieving process. It hurts so much we can’t actually see outside it. However, this stage will pass and give way to another. Hopefully that of allowing yourself to heal. There is no timescale as its different for all of us. Just be kind to yourself. Eventually you will feel a little better.
Love to you Kate xx
Thank you Kate for your kind reply, it gives me hope, this is a cruel world that we live in and we on this site have been dealt a horrible hand that we could not have even imagined possible, love and hugs xx
Hi Dee, I’m so sorry you are feeling like this, but yes, all of us on this site are going through the same thing! Guilt is like a relentless worm eating out your insides! I feel this guilt too and feel there’s no way out of this destructive downward spiral. My son Joey died a month ago tomorrow so I guess it’s early days. I miss him so terribly it hurts physically.
I’m going to seek professional grief counselling. May that we help. Would you consider that?
Hello Samantha,
My heart goes out to you as I know exactly how you feel, my son Sam was 34 when he died of a brain tumour. He was living in Sweden at the time with his wife Mathilda but came home to tell me had a seizure and so couldnt go back. He survived 4 and a half year’s when we got to the 4 year mark I began to have hope only for it to be dashed when another one appeared in a part of the brain where they could not operate. Sam passed 6 years ago on the 9th December and although now I can control the tears they are never far away. You will eventually learn to adjust to the new you, your grief will eventually walk beside you and although you will recognise it is there you will control it, i describe grief as being like waves to the shore sometimes lapping at your feet sometimes washing over your head. Joey’s mum is right try thinking of special times you both had, the love you both had, try talking out loud to him (I do all the time) .
Keep posting Samantha, we are all here on this horrendous journey together.
Love Helen
Hello Kate,
It is strange isn’t it how things can sometimes overwhelm us, only at the weekend I was chatting with Sally, (you met Sally when we were up) and things got the better of me.
This is a different life, that we live now even though we try our best sometimes our grief will get the better of us but not for as long as in the begnning.
Love to you and Alan
xxHelen
So true Helen. Difficult time of year for you.
Love to you and John too.
Kate xxx
Hello Dee , I can quite understand how you are feeling , you have just started out on this awful thing called grief , The guilt is the worse , why are we here and not our children . The pain of going through , the ifs and why is unbearable . We think we are going out of our minds thinking we should of been able to change things. Please believe me there will better days ahead , we have to except that our beautiful children are around us , I do believe that . , . It’s hard for me at the moment as this time almost 6!years ago Dawn started to go down hill , and ended up in hospital , never to recover . My heart is still breaking . But I know when I see Jackievwith a reading Dawn will come through . , and we will be able to talk to her . She told us 6 months ago she was standing behind us . That gives me hope and I hope it will you . Maddie xx
Lovely words, dear Maddie and so comforting xxx