Memories, memories, memories In this world you tried Not leaving me alone behind There's no other way I'll pray to the gods let him stay The memories ease the pain inside Now I know why All of my mem Memories Lyrics. Whisper Memories, memories, memories In this world you tried Not leaving me alone behind There's no other way I prayed to the gods let him stay The memories ease the pain inside Now I know why All of my memories keep you near In silent moments imagine you here All of my memories keep you near Your silent whispers, silent tears Made me promise. Memories Lyrics Funny how in just one moment things can turn upside down Wish I could turn back time to when you were still around And all I got left is memories of your face smiling at me.
When someone you love dies, you're left with just memories.
I've been learning these last 6 (almost 7) months that memories are a tricky thing. I kind of picture it like walking through a mine field.
I'm doing my best to navigate through my memories but no matter how hard I try to avoid them, every once in a while i'll step on a landmine of a bad memory.
Kaela and I fought a decent amount but not enough to be considered remarkable, just the average sisterly squabbles….
'is that MY shirt?' 'ugh I hate this song, change it!' and that sort 😉
So gratefully, very few of these land mine memories are of fights. Some are, to be honest, but thankfully I have the confidence to say that those 'bad fights' were resolved long before Kaela's death. For that I am immensely grateful..
Instead, most of my land mine memories come from that one week leading up to my sister's death. Out of 22 years of friendship and sisterhood, I struggle most with memories of one week.
One week.
The day that my sister died, her palliative care doctor hugged me and shared his words of wisdom:
This time here is just 1% of your memories of your sister. You have a whole 99% of cheerful, wonderful memories – hold on to the 99%. Do not let this mere 1% overshadow the 99%.
That has been some of the best advice for grieving that I have received.
Dr. Handel's advice has been easier to agree with than to put into practice because that 1% completely altered my world, and the lives of countless others.
However difficult it is, I cannot allow myself to be weighed down by this 1% because that's exactly what it does, it weighs me down….
Kaela's death completely shattered my world just as a major natural disaster might destroy an entire city. After the devastation has hit, the people of the city are surrounded by rubble; the rubble of what their lives used to be. It could be so easy for these people to sit down and wallow in their misery and grief over the incredible loss they have endured. But eventually they have to decide to pick themselves up to both recognize and accept their 'new normal'.
This does not mean that everything from the past needs to be forgotten or left behind. No, in order to heal and truly continue on living, the people of this city and people whom are grieving a death must wade through the rubble that surrounds them and gather together the priceless mementos and memories that have been buried. However, a person can only care so much – both literally and figuratively.
When someone you love dies, you're left with just memories.
I've been learning these last 6 (almost 7) months that memories are a tricky thing. I kind of picture it like walking through a mine field.
I'm doing my best to navigate through my memories but no matter how hard I try to avoid them, every once in a while i'll step on a landmine of a bad memory.
Kaela and I fought a decent amount but not enough to be considered remarkable, just the average sisterly squabbles….
'is that MY shirt?' 'ugh I hate this song, change it!' and that sort 😉
So gratefully, very few of these land mine memories are of fights. Some are, to be honest, but thankfully I have the confidence to say that those 'bad fights' were resolved long before Kaela's death. For that I am immensely grateful..
Instead, most of my land mine memories come from that one week leading up to my sister's death. Out of 22 years of friendship and sisterhood, I struggle most with memories of one week.
One week.
The day that my sister died, her palliative care doctor hugged me and shared his words of wisdom:
This time here is just 1% of your memories of your sister. You have a whole 99% of cheerful, wonderful memories – hold on to the 99%. Do not let this mere 1% overshadow the 99%.
That has been some of the best advice for grieving that I have received.
Dr. Handel's advice has been easier to agree with than to put into practice because that 1% completely altered my world, and the lives of countless others.
However difficult it is, I cannot allow myself to be weighed down by this 1% because that's exactly what it does, it weighs me down….
Kaela's death completely shattered my world just as a major natural disaster might destroy an entire city. After the devastation has hit, the people of the city are surrounded by rubble; the rubble of what their lives used to be. It could be so easy for these people to sit down and wallow in their misery and grief over the incredible loss they have endured. But eventually they have to decide to pick themselves up to both recognize and accept their 'new normal'.
This does not mean that everything from the past needs to be forgotten or left behind. No, in order to heal and truly continue on living, the people of this city and people whom are grieving a death must wade through the rubble that surrounds them and gather together the priceless mementos and memories that have been buried. However, a person can only care so much – both literally and figuratively.
Thus, we must be focused and disciplined to not collect the harsh memories, or the cement rubble of our old walls. No, those things would just weigh us down further and prevent us to carry the sweet memories.
Think of it: if your home has been completely destroyed would you gather together your pictures, gifts from loved ones, journals and other special treasures? Or, would you gather together pieces of bricks from your old foundation or shattered tiles form your kitchen to remind you of your great loss? Most likely, you would choose family treasures over painful memories.
I had to make this decision regarding my memories of Kaela.
Does this mean that I won't have those painful or unpleasant memories arise? I wish that were the case. But rather, as I mentioned before, they often sneak up on me.
In fact, I surprised my two older younger siblings the other day by flying to Minnesota for a surprise visit.
My layover was in Denver.
I did not think too much of it at the time of booking my flight but when I landed I felt my stomach drop to my feet. The last time I had landed in this exact airport, it was to see Kaela the day after her accident. My dad and I met up and as we hugged he told me:
Left With Memories Jayfluent Lyrics Maroon 5
'I spoke with the doctor and he says she's going to live'.
Those were the most beautiful words that I had ever heard. If only they had been able to remain true.
So you might understand why my stomach felt so sick when I landed in Denver. I had stepped on a landmine.
I had a decision to make and I decided to not hold onto this brick of a memory but instead to allow myself room to hold on tightly to all the memories of traveling with Kaela, memories that bring me joy.
I'm getting more used to stepping on these landmines but that does not mean that they aren't still difficult to endure.
Left With Memories Jayfluent Lyrics Panic At The Disco
They're hard and they hurt. But that arrival into Denver almost seven months ago was only a part of my 1% and I refuse to allow that mere 1% have more claim than it deserves.
That means that I have to choose to hold on tightly to the memories that help me to feel closer to Kaela, the ones that help me to heal and the ones that bring a smile to my face.
I'm still learning how all of this 'grief thing' works and maybe i'm wrong to do it in this way or maybe others might disagree with my experiences or opinions. But as I am making these conscious decisions to drop the rubble from my arms, I feel lighter.
That 1% does not go away but it does not weigh me down quite as much as it used to.
And that's a beautiful thing.
Kaela, thank you for all the amazing memories.
