#loss of a family member | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

purplefeathersandblackleather · 1 year

Text

As the first night of this grueling Christmas shift comes to an end, I find that I am thankful. My bones are wary and the smell of cedar wood and spices fill my sense of smell as I step in through the door of my home. My mother welcomes me, bringing me a change of clothes that she had warmed in the dryer for me, my two canine companions, Diesel and Buddy, rush to me with wagging tails and small hops of excitement.

The sight of the presents under the tree fills my heart with both joy and ache this year, but also a sense of clarity.

In these times when we struggle, there is always someone who has it worse than we do. I think about my losses, I mourn for the ones who are no longer here, but then I remember the people I have helped on the streets recently. I worry for those with nowhere to go and pray for them instead of myself.

This morning I remember my dearest friend @sobeautifullyobsessed who just recently found herself homeless and struggling to figure out where she would go and I pray for her safety and for her to have a warm place to stay and rest for these weary days. I am thankful to all of those who have shown her the generosity she has been given in her time of need.

I think about @fanartka who lives in the Ukraine, who just recently celebrated a birthday in a country devastated by war because the human species is obsessed with power and fundamentally insane. I pray for her and Ukraine, even now when it has been helped by many amazing people, such as Benedict Cumberbatch and many others.

I think of my friend @xeiggerott who has recently lost his job and is now struggling to find a way to buy food and pay his bills. I recently gave him advice on how to clear his Chakras and sent him the most money that I could to help him in this hard time. I am thankful to finally be in a position where I can help someone I consider a friend when they're in need.

My mind wanders of course to Tony and how I wish he was still here to spend this holiday with me. To my grandmother and grandfather, who both lost their lives to disease and should still be here to see this beautiful holiday with us. But I am coming to the end of my grief and finding peace with where I am. They are gone, but never leave from my heart and I hope they found peace in whatever awaits beyond.

As I get ready to lay down and rest for another night of work in the cold temperatures, I hope all of you - my darling mutuals and friends - find some sense of peace and happiness in these days. That there is love for you, even if it's from your fictional darlings, that will fill you with warmth. Thank you, @bakerstreethound for reminding us that there's nothing wrong with still loving our chosen, even if they're not in this world with us.

And thank you, @harlekin6 for always checking in on me when I am wary and struggling. You mean so much to me, my dear. Remember that you are very important to me and I am thankful for you making me feel so important always.

For my darling @cirocity whom I love with all of my heart. I truly have found the source of my inner strength with you in my life and I cannot wait for us to finally meet in March. I love you so much, my sweet butterfly.

To my dearest @icytrickster17 who makes me feel like I am worthy of being noticed. The way my heart lightens when she likes my posts and reblogs anything of mine no matter how dumb it is, makes me feel like I truly am accepted, even if we don't talk much.

For my sweet moonflower @strangelockd who I have just developed such a strong relationship with. I thank you for being my Tony, when no one else would give me what I needed. When no one would help me, you extended your hand and pulled me up so that I could begin standing on my own. I am in your debt, truly.

And lastly, for my most complex and awe inspiring mutual, @stewardofningishzida who I have found so compelling that I consider them someone very important to me on more of an intellectual level. I have enjoyed hearing your stories and reading your writings, and I do look forward to speaking with you again very soon. May the eyes that watch leave you at peace and allow you to rest these days.

You all mean more to me than words, but this will have to do. Good night, my loves. - Steven

20 notes · View notes

miss-saytr · 7 months

Text

“He wasn’t supposed to go… and it happened when I was in school… I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

He does this thing after he said that where he’s holding his head with both his hands. Not even crying. Not even a clear expression on his face. It’s more painful. And she looks deep into his eyes. It’s a dry moment where he doesn’t cry, because he’s cried it all out before, but by dry that means barely a reaction, but his head is just full of thoughts.

And when she says, “What are you thinking about?” Despite a sweet tone, he isn’t sure what to say, because there’s so much clutter that he can’t give an answer that feels truthful. Life? Death? Afterlife? Why it happened? If it happened to him? What his mom felt? How his brother feels? Experiences he won’t get? Things he sees on TV? Seeing his friends with their dads?

And these thoughts are like horses in his mind, some catching up to another, some preceding others, some coming back again in the race, the race of thoughts, racing thoughts. And she isn’t sure what to say. It’s like a storm, a tornado even. But in that storm, he feels a hand reach out to touch him on the shoulder.

“It’s ok to not understand, you don’t have to right now.”

His father died of something vaguely mentioned. She can’t remember if it was a condition or a disease or something else. Her father knew his dad, so she asks him later that night. Since he went to same hospital that was treating her friend’s father, she gets more of a medical picture instead of a picture painted with sadness and loss and tears in the eyes of the person telling the story. And it’s so strange, how one person can talk about someone so differently. Someone she never met. So her dad explains it with simple science and her questions on vague hints have been answered.

This empathy wraps her around at bedtime like a big weighted blanket four times her size. And most of it is just sinking it all in, some of it is sadness, some of it is putting herself in his shoes. Breathing so slowly she makes herself sleepy with it. But it doesn’t stop her from checking in on him. Maybe once or twice wouldn’t hurt.

And he’s asleep. Moving in his sleep, a pillow in his arms. And he’s holding it like he hugged her.

#writblr #writer #writers and poets #writers on tumblr #writing #tw grief #grief poem #grief poetry #loss #loss of a loved one #loss of a parent #loss of a family member #absent father #comfort

4 notes · View notes

poppy144 · 9 months

Text

My life feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from.

2 notes · View notes

anangelcalledinquisitor · 11 months

Text

Thank you everyone for being so awesome to me and each other! Holding the World update under the cut.

Until then! Please listen to the most absurd song in my library, to celebrate my mom and a life well-lived!

youtube

So, as some of you know, I've had a very wild year since starting writing Holding the World. Ups. Downs. Losses. Gains. I've made so many friends, it's almost unreal! Seriously, I can't thank you all enough. Between the abscess recurring, COVID, my wife getting to visit in March, surgery, you all have been very gracious as updates have slowed to a crawl. I have managed to write some? but not much lately.

As some of you know, my mom lost her sudden fight with a cancer that no one saw coming. Blood work was fine in January. Beginning of May, she wasn't feeling well. I took her to the hospital the day before Mother's Day. I lost my mom this last Tuesday.

It's still so unreal.

Since joining this fandom, I have found myself a little bit of a family and I can't thank you guys enough for being so understanding. I want to thank everyone who has said such wonderful things and helped me in this most difficult time. I hope to get a chapter done here by the end of next week, but no guarantees--I'm... I'm still trying to get myself into a groove, ya know?

For the last year or so, I've spent so much time with her when she was living next door to me (it's a duplex). Not every day, but many days, and for a long time. A couple of years before that, she and I were cohabitating (she got out of a bad situation, I found it cheaper to rent with someone, I could bake, she could cook, and we managed to keep each other alive to the best of our abilities) for a couple of years, so we saw each other every day. My mom heard the bad D&D jokes, she made me and my wife laugh so hard we cried. She was with me when I wanted to cut off all my hair because of the cruel and thoughtless comments of other people. She was with me when I was getting on the plane to go see my wife to propose (technically my wife is my fiance). She picked me up when I got back in the middle of the night. She comforted me when my dog had to be put down. She comforted me through moves and school changes, the loss of pets, my accidents, my graduation, my first job, celebrating twelve years at my current one, through flat tires and dead transmissions, through ambulance rides, through first loves and heartbreak, through miscommunications and laughter and tears and a hundred million moments of my life where I just lived. She got me through my first drawings, my first stories, my first paintings, so many hobbies, so many firsts and lasts and made sure I was included in things. Yeah she irritated me from time to time, but whose parents don't from time to time?

Today, I made beef stew for the first time without her help. Today, I went to see a movie without her that she and I had made plans to see just back in April. Today, I resolutely forced my brother to take back the bag of clothing items he had left when he moved last year (a jacket, a blanket, and a few other miscellaneous things).

Today, I think my mom would've been proud of my progress.

I still wish she could be here with me. I still have so much I wanted to do with her first. Had I known this would've happened, I would have done so much more, so much differently. But that's the way it always is, isn't it? When it creeps up on you, when you don't know the end is going to be right there, you just tell yourself it'll be okay.

It will be okay.

Different... but okay.

Anyway, I wanted to just get that off my chest a bit. I didn't get to say anything at the memorial, just walked around and thanked people for coming and learned names, so it was nice to say a few things.

My favorite Lemony Snicket quotes:

"It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things."

I'm still at this stage. Still finding myself going up the stairs and miscounting the steps.

“I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. [...] I will love you until every fire is extinguished and rebuilt from the handsomest and most susceptible of woods. [...] I will love you as we find ourselves farther and farther from one another, where once we were so close... I will love you until your face is fogged by distant memory. I will love you no matter where you go and who you see, [...] That is how I will love you even as the world goes on its wicked way.”

I have been here for my whole life. I love my mom. She may not be here to love me in person, but I know she loved me for me. She wasn't perfect, but she was warm and loving and an excellent mom to me.

#the inquisitor speaks #tw death mention #loss of a family member #loss of a loved one #thank you everyone for your kind wishes #disco duck

4 notes · View notes

proudfreakmetarusonniku · 2 years

Text

Day 12: What Could Go Wrong?

A version of Inconsolable Differences where Dream doesn’t burn the “discs”. Only realising on his final breath the depths of Dream's obsession with Tommy, Wilbur leaves Tommy trapped with the man who ruined his life and a broken promise. Dream, however, is eager to have his favourite punching bag back, and makes a promise he intends on following through with. Warnings for suicide, loss of a family member, fairly graphic depictions of violence and death, dehumanisation, manipulation, self hatred, extreme possessive behaviour, vomiting, broken bones, self victim blaming, abuse, infantilisation, and forced family dynamics.

AO3 link, if you’d prefer.

“Wil! Wil, how could you do this, Wil?”

Tommy begged and screamed and cried, desperately holding onto Wilbur’s coat jacket in the desperate hope he could drag him away. Wil- he promised, he promised, everything was gonna be okay, he’d get his discs back, nothing would go wrong, yet he stood there holding a bucket of lava, grinning and ready to ignite himself.

Dream was still staring directly at Tommy, and Tommy knew- he knew that fucking grin under his mask. The one he always had on around Tommy, less cruel and more like a toddler with their favourite fucking rag doll to pull apart. “He’s bluffing. He’s bluffing!”

“I’m not- try me, bitch!” Wilbur’s voice was loud, echoing throughout the lobby, and it made Tommy wince. “One, zero!”

Dream held the discs in his hand, unburnt. “I’ll take that bet.”

Wilbur roughly shoved Tommy as far away from him as he could before setting himself alight.

“WILBUR! WIL, NO!” Tommy sobbed and screeched, desperately trying to run towards the burning figure of his brother, the sickening smell of flesh alike and whimpers of pain yet that damned satisfied smirk still on his fucking face, but tight arms wrapped around him, restraining him yet forcing him to watch as he screamed until his throat was bloody and raw.

Tommy scrunched his eyes shut, desperate to try and avoid seeing the horrible sight, but sharp nails dug into his stomach as he struggled, and he opened them instinctively. He tried to look at anything but Wilbur burning, his flesh turning red to black to completely dissolved, the grin on his face turning more and more strained as he collapsed, but he couldn’t focus on the obsidian walls, on the blank nothingness of everything but the only family he had left killing himself in front of him again.

Screaming turned to wailing turned to desperate, quiet sobbing.

Wheezing laughter filled the air at that, as Tommy was unceremoniously released and collapsed under his own weight, landing painfully on the hard floor and curling up into as tight a ball as possible. The sound of footsteps was deafening, along with the rattling gurgles of someone just about clinging to life, ones Tommy was familiar with from himself.

“I should thank you, really.” Dream’s voice was sickeningly sweet. “You come into my house, gift me three of my favourite things, then dispose of yourself? All it took was playing along, and I got everything I ever wanted.”

Wilbur’s voice was raspy, barely audible through his final breaths. “I- what? No, you were meant to…”

The silence was more deafening than anything else.

It hurt to cry so hard. Tommy’s chest constricted hard, and it felt impossible to breathe, like a million tons lay on top of him. But more than that, it hurt to think. Hurt to think of a life without Wilbur. Hurt to think about being alone and trapped with Dream. It felt like he was being forced through the same agony he’d broken under before again and again and again. The idea of freedom seemed like a joke, happiness an impossibility.

He didn’t want to think anymore.

It could have been an eternity or a second before he felt something other than the cold floor, the wetness of his tears and the agony of breathing. Roughly, with the enthusiastic lack of care of a child opening their presents on Christmas morning, he was pulled into a tight embrace that knocked what little wind he had out of him, leaving him collapsed and compliant in a way that he hated.

“It’s okay, now, Tommy, it’s okay, I’m here,” Dream repeated, and Tommy wasn’t sure if the mocking tone in his voice was really there or something his terrified brain was adding to try and make sense of the whole thing. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now, you don’t need to cry.”

Tommy hated how Dream still pulled that friend card, like it had any weight at all after what he’d done to him. It was worse than if he’d just tortured and beaten and berated him. It made him feel less wiggly inside. His stomach was already doing flips after seeing Wilbur… seeing him go, but the faux-kindness tipped him over the edge, and he really was sick, right onto Dream’s shoulder.

Dream let go of him again at that, and that slight bit of freedom felt like the only light in the world. Tommy wasn’t sure whether to treasure it, not knowing when he’d get another chance, or to ignore his own selfish whims. It wasn’t like he’d ever somehow undamn himself, but no matter how sinful and wretched beyond repair he was, he still wanted to do right by the Primes, and that required respect. He didn’t know. His head was all flooded and wobbly and shit.

“Ugh,” Dream said, unequipping his chestplate. “Well, it has been a while. I suppose I can’t blame you for regressing from time away from me, after all. I’ll let you off this once, because I’m feeling generous today.”

Tommy tuned out Dream’s self-important bullshit the best he could, only focused on the fact Dream was vulnerable, for once, a hole in the armour he otherwise wore, a straight shot. He’d dropped his sword while sobbing, but it had to be close. His eyes scanned for the sight of silver-blue diamond, and the second he managed to glance that shine, he desperately made a lunge, scrambling for it.

He’d barely wrapped his fingers around the smooth hilt before a crashing weight came down on his hands, and he could hear his bones breaking, a sickeningly loud crunch almost drowning out the waves of pain. He’d always been sensitive since revival, but the sudden agony burst through him like it was brand new, and bright, burning colours etched themself over his eyelids as he scrunched them shut tight. No noise came out as he tried hard to scream, only rough, body-shaking coughs.

A swift kick to his stomach cut off even that, leaving him wheezing and sobbing, and he flinched violently when he felt a hand on his cheek, expecting more agony. Instead, there was only a soft chuckle he could barely hear over his own heartbeat, and claws gently wiping aside his tears. That was worse than whatever pain he could picture- the monstrous side of Dream, the one who beat him and killed his friends, was easy to hate, while the one who said kind words that dug at his core and held him tight after berating him into tears felt so easy to adore.

Maybe he fucking deserved it if he kept wanting to crawl back for more.

“I thought I could trust you, Tommy. I thought we were friends.” Dream didn’t even sound mad, just disappointed and genuinely hurt, and Tommy hated how it made him feel guilty. “I suppose it’s what I should expect, with you going back to them. It’s not your fault, is it? You’re just a kid.”

Maybe if Tommy was in any other situation, he’d avoid that bait, but with pain and grief clouding every part of him, he bit. “I-I’m not-“ His words were quiet and scratchy, and talking felt like swallowing razor blades, but if his voice was the only weapon he had left, he’d go down swinging. “I’m eighteen. Not a child.”

“Huh, could have fooled me.” Dream pinched Tommy’s cheeks hard enough it made him start whimpering again. “You’ve still got your baby fat, y’know? Actually, I don’t think you’ve changed a bit since the prison. Guess that makes you a child forever, huh?”

If looks could kill, the look Tommy gave Dream would have been the most deadly force on the planet. Instead, it just made Dream laugh, the same tone one would have seeing a small animal do something amusing.

Prime, he hated that fucking laugh. He’d grown familiar with it well towards the beginning of the server, during the Disc Wars, and in hindsight, it made a lot of the fond memories he had at the time, the war he thought was just for fun against a man he looked up to and admired deeply, as both a member of the faith and a friend, feel so sickening and bitter in hindsight. He never wanted to hear that fucking sound again, and Wilbur- he’d- he’d promised-

“He promised it’d be okay,” Tommy murmured, half-conscious. “Wil- he promised, he said nothing would go wrong, I wouldn’t even havta see you again. He promised. I trusted him, and-“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay now. He can’t make any more promises he can’t keep, can he? He can’t hurt you anymore.” Tommy was too exhausted from the physical and mental agony he couldn’t resist being pulled back into Dream’s arms, the bastard cradling him like he was some sick puppy and not a Primes be damned person. “I’m here now, and I promise you can trust me. I’m going to fix you, make you all better, like we did in Exile. I can be your new family! And we’ll make this server perfect. Together.”

Whether you want me to or not went unsaid, but it hung in the air like a silent promise, and unlike Wilbur, Dream always made good on those.

8 notes · View notes