I cannot fix your pain
I cannot solve your problem
I can’t prevent the sorrow you’re feeling
Or even guarantee I’ll make you smile
(818) 788-HOPE (4673)
Grief Support Groups Serving West Los Angeles, Encino and Agoura Hills
Grief Support Groups Serving West Los Angeles, Encino and Agoura Hills
Poetry
I see grief down the blockSo I turn the corner I have dinner with a friendGrief, at a nearby table, waves to meBut agrees to keep its distance I go for a swim in the local poolGrateful that grief is not sharing a lane with meHoping that if I swim till I’m exhaustedGrief will leave me alone After a day filled with…
I miss you. You gave me my life. You were my protector, my teacher, my moral compass, my comfort. I feel so alone without you. No one worries about me the way you did. No one loves me the way you did.
Michael Arvanitis unfortunately went through the HOPE Connection grief group program twice. His dear wife, Katie, died on 10/29/17 and over two years of working on his grief, he began to heal and met a new love. She died suddenly during COVID leaving him grief stricken again. He found his way through connection, grief work being a Mentor to new people in the HOPE program and through the arts. He started writing poetry to find paths through the many emotions of his grief and healing. His new book, Whisperings of a Loving Heart, is now available on Amazon. His loving heart has decided to donate any proceeds to HOPE Connection to give back some of the love and support that he received.
Please consider supporting Michael’s amazing good work and HOPE Connection by buying your copy here today.
Listen to Lynne Goldklang as she reads A Yearning For What Can Never Be. Grief is an intense missing, longing, wanting, yearning for what can never be.Grief is loss so profound that relief is impossible, undesirable, an insult to love lost.Grief is forever — and healing an illusion of optimistic folly.Grief is the vulture that attacks without mercy. The moments of your…
the ocean knows,
by tides,
when to approach,
when to recede.
grief knows,
the same way,
by the language
of the moon.
I wrote this short poem about a month after my brother died:
My grief is like an ocean swell
rolling toward shore.
It rises but never breaks.
It came to me while sitting quietly during a yoga class, breathing deeply. There were swells of grief but no tears. The stillness helped me put words to my feelings. I had cried when he died, but then it subsided. Too quiet. Where was my grief?
Often, poets capture the feelings following the death of our loved one in ways that transcend words. Westley Nash does exactly that in this short poem, read by the author, Left Behind.
After the death of my husband, Don, I found myself adrift in my spiritual life. My religious beliefs from childhood offered some comfort but I wanted more. I wanted to forge a relationship with my husband that was eternal. I was drawn to those friends who told me of messages they were receiving from their deceased beloved ones.
Rabbi Paul Kipnes, MAJE, a popular lecturer on raising spiritually balanced, emotionally whole children, is leader of Congregation Or Ami in Calabasas, California.
There is a secret life of the mourner
That most people just don’t see
There is a secret life of a mourner
Hidden, complex, and now, me.