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Found 5 results

  1. my young dog died tragically

    Hello, on Friday the 3rd November we lost our miniature dachshund only 2 years old in a horrific incident. At a public park two big dogs came running up, one of the dogs attacked Bob and killed him. My daughter was in the playwark and witnessed this all. I am in shock and grieving so much. I am an artist and work from home, he was with me all the time and my best friend. He helped me through a tough time and just always gave unconditional love. My daughter is 9 and my son is 14, its affected the whole family and I just don't know how to deal with this pain. I can't sleep, the incident keeps replaying in my mind, I wish I have done more.. The attacking dogs didn't wear collars or anything and their jaws locked on my dog. The police is involved as well. I came to this forum as I need advice and support, I can't bear to be home... Thanks
  2. Am I the only one?

    I'm not sure what the limit is on posts? I posted one yesterday, I'm new here. My question to everyone here is, if anyone has experienced resentment towards their family after their sibling's death? If so has it gotten better? Here's my story... My older brother (only sibling) passed away about 8 months ago. He was 24, I'm 22. Heroin overdose (accidental) I live in Florida, where I've been living for two years for school. My mom also lives down here, retired with her husband for about five years. My brother lived in Pennsylvania, where we are all from. The only reason why he didn't move with me was because he was on parol and couldn't leave the state, So there's a little info to understand my hurt. So about two weeks following my brother's death, my pop had a stoke. My mother and her husband flew up to PA to make sure he was going to be okay. I stayed for work, assuming everything would be fine. The week following my pop's stroke, my brother passed away at my grandparent's home, he was found on the floor, shower running, in his boxers, still warm, they just couldn't get him back. My mother texted me while I was at work saying "call me 911" meaning emergency, I immediately assumed my pop had passed. I went to the back to call her and she told me to sit. When she said it was my brother, I collasped to the floor, screaming, kicking, I didn't know it was possible to cry for a full 24 hours. I flew home immediately to be with my family and grieve, couldn't help but hate myself for not taking the opportunity that was sent to us to see my brother one last time before he passed away. I see my pop having that stroke as a sign from God, calling the family together and I missed it. My whole family got to see him the weeks prior except me so for that I resent them, selfishly. When I got to my home state, to my grandmother's, everyone was there crying. My mom was passes out, I was told that she took 20 pills (Xanax) and I needed her most. That whole week, I was the mother and she was the child. It was an unexpected disappointment. I wrote my brother's obituary and spoke at his funeral, I made sure everyone was okay, making sure my mother didn't break the casket from trying to lay on him. Yelling for them not to take him. I had to make sure people we're smiling and eating at the dinner we had for family and friends. My mom stole my grief and everyone let her because she was his mother, and I'm nothing but his sister. Right now, me and my mother's relationship is on thin ice, I'm planning on moving far away after I'm done with school. Travel the world, maybe. The things she's said to me and have done to me since this tragedy is forgiveable but unforgettable. The bond we had is broken, it will never be the same, I feel. My brother gave the strength to go through that the week of the funeral and on every holiday since. It's been so unfair to not be the one who gets that shoulder to cry on.
  3. He was 18..

    I lost my 18 year old brother on February 15, 2014. Some girl my mom and I have never met came to our house and knocked on our door, asking if Ricky was home. I was upstairs and didn't hear the entire conversation between her and my mom, but I came downstairs as she was hugging my mom and running back to her car in the driveway. I asked my mom what I just missed and she told me that this girl heard of a maroon car in a bad accident on Sturgeon Point road (about 5 minutes from our house) and wanted to see if Ricky was home because he has a maroon car. My mom called my brother and he didn't answer his phone. I am the older of the two of us, 23 at the time and he was 18. He had always been "babied" by my mom, although he would never admit it to anyone's face. She would bend over backwards for him constantly, but had always given me a hard time growing up. Her argument was that, "boys are different." To this day I am thankful for that because she instilled a sense of independence and self-worth in me. Also, knowing that she always did 110% for Ricky every day of his and her life helps elevate the pain slightly because we know he enjoyed life to the fullest, having everything he ever wanted his short time on this earth. With all that being said, after this strange girl left our house, we knew something was up when Ricky didn't answer my mom's phone call to check in on him. It was noon on a Saturday and he had left the house to go to one of his best friend's house. He had just gotten his car out of the shop and it was his pride and joy. He and his buddies liked to cruise and listen to music and go out to eat at fast food restaurants. My first thought was maybe he is driving but my mom knew something was wrong. My mom called Ricky's best friend, Dan, whose house he supposedly went to when he left no longer than 20 minutes before this girl showed up at our house. Dan was crying when he answered the phone and repeatedly said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, he was my friend." This really got my mom worked up. She started pacing and talking fast. I told her to calm down, have a seat on the couch, and stay home in case Ricky showed up. I got in my car and drove over to the intersection of Delameter and Sturgeon Point road. There was one gentleman in a bright green jacket standing there and he told me he wasn't allowed to let traffic through. Sturgeon Point road is a winding road and about 5 miles long, surrounded by trees. I couldn't see any signs of distress or abnormalities past him and his volunteer fireman's car, so I turned around and decided to go to the intersection of Sturgeon Point road and Derby road. All the while I was making this commute, I was unusually calm. Now that I look back to it, it's almost as though I was too calm to the point where my body was just on autopilot. At the intersection of Sturgeon Point and Derby Road, I saw three cop cars not allowing any traffic through. About 50 yards from them was my brother's friend Mitch's gold Audi parallel with the ditch. No signs of damage though. About 50 more feet down, past Mitch's car, I saw about three fire trucks, ambulances and undercover/detective-ish police cars. The cops told me there was to be no thru-traffic and find an alternative route. I put my car in park, got out of it, walked over to the little possy of three and said, "my brother drives a maroon Lincoln and someone told me there was a bad accident on this road, I need to know what kind of car is down there." The police offices said that they didn't know the details of the accident and were only instructed to keep traffic back. I knew they were lying through their teeth. They told me I had to move my car and it couldn't stay where it was idle. I told them I wasn't leaving until they gave me information, especially because I could identify the gold Audi as Mitch's car. The one officer radioed to someone at the scene, and an undercover cop car drove in reverse down to where I was standing with the traffic officers. He got out of his car and approached me so calmly that it basically hypnotized me. He gently touched my shoulder and asked me if my parents were home. I told him I just live with my mom and she was home and worried and needed to know if Ricky was ok. He guided me to my car and said to go home and stay with her until the officers arrived with further information. When I replay this in my head, I don't know why I didn't panic. I just assumed Ricky and Mitch (being the 18 year old boys that they were) might've gotten into some trouble and had to clear things up. Maybe they were trespassing or hit a mailbox or something along those lines. Not once did I think about losing my brother. When I got home my mom was horizontal on the couch and she was white as a ghost. She had the cold sweats and was breathing very heavily. I got her a cool washcloth and told her that the officer was coming over to explain. She was confused. I told her he seemed nice and sincere and that we shouldn't worry. I decided to pull out the laptop from under the couch just to waste some time. I pulled up my twitter account and one of the most recent tweets on the top of the page was from a boy a few years younger than me, but went to the same high school as me. He knew a lot of the gossip and was always the center of attention or doing the coolest thing of the night. His tweet read, "RIP Ricky." I read it once, read it twice, read it three times, and looked at my mom lying on the couch with the cold rag on her head. This couldn’t be our Ricky, no. I gently closed the computer and slid it under the couch. I didn't say anything to her because I didn't exactly know what that tweet meant myself. I didn't know many Ricky's in our area, but I think I would be pretty aware if my brother was no longer on this earth. I'm his big sister; wouldn't I be the first to know? About 20 minutes passed and two cop cars pulled in the driveway. It was February and we live in Western New York, so there was a dusting of snow on the ground. My mom sprung from the couch when she saw the officers arrive and ran to the door to fling it open so quick it almost fell off the hinges. She was shouting at them before both of them had even gotten out of their vehicles, "where's my son, what's going on?" I was trying to register all of this as it was happening. Neither of these officers were the one I talked to in the undercover car. Neither of them had my brother in the car. They both walked into our house and she was begging them to tell her where Ricky was. They suggested we take a seat at the kitchen table while they explained and she was pleading at this point, "where is my son?!" There is no word to describe the sound that came out of my mom when the officer told her that he had been in an accident and didn't make it. My mom put her head down in her arms on the kitchen table and began to sob and yell, “No! Where is he?! I need to see him!” I definitely entered a state of shock/panic. The officers had tracked slush/snow into our house all over the kitchen floor so I grabbed paper towels and got on my hands and knees and began wiping the floor because I couldn’t register what they had just told us. The officers told us that they were sorry, but I knew they weren’t. They would go on with their lives as normal; this was just the beginning of their Saturday at work. They went on to explain that we could not see him as he was not transported to the hospital because he died on impact. Still, none of this registering. Now when I look back, I am glad things happened this way because I know he was grabbed right up into heaven. However, my mom was aching to see her baby boy. The officers told us that we needed to contact family because they are what we need to turn to during a time like this for support. My mom is the second oldest of six siblings. She has four brothers and a sister. She lost her mom (my grandmother) about four years prior to this accident. I was devastated losing my Nonnie and my mom devastated to lose her mom, she was only 63. However, it is more of a norm to lose a grandparent than a sibling or child. No pain could ever amount to this. My mom made one phone call, to my grandpa and told him about the accident. He contacted everyone in the family and within about an hour and a half all four of my uncles, their wives and all of their kids (my 12 cousins) were in our house. It was somber. It was like we took turns passing tears around. This was the start of the longest week of my life. Starting with planning funeral arrangements, to the wake and funeral and after, it all seems like a blur. I was sick physically and mentally. Today I look back on all of it, and find Ricky in the little joyous parts of my day, but miss him terribly. Not seeing your younger and only sibling for 11 months is unimaginable. When I say that out loud, I can’t believe it has been that long since we shared a laugh or a loving punch. Eleven months without you, bud. I can’t believe it until I remember that I have to live for the rest of my life.
  4. My mom was diagnosed with aggressive endometrial cancer in Oct 2012. In May 2013 it spread to her brain. She passed away July 2013, 9 months later. From the minute I found out until the minute she passed I took care of her. Treatment wasn't easy on her and I almost lost her twice due to complications from chemotherapy. I am an only child and all i had was my mom. My dad and i werent close but he was there for her until the end. he and i got to make amends on our differences and planned on fixing our relationship as it was just going to be e and him once my mom passed. I hoped we would get closer and mend our relationship while helping eachother grieve. 3 weeks after my mom died, my dad had a heart attack and passed away. the NYPD wouldn't break the door down when i was getting concerned he didnt answer the phone... I had to find my mom's key to his house and found him laying on the bathroom floor decomposing. I put on a good front in public but sometime the feelings of missing them is overwhelmimg and i start to cry. I feel this huge void inside like im lost. I have cousins, an uncle and grandmother (mom's mom) and friends but noone can replace her, o one compares to her, i want my mom back! I knew she was going to pass and can remember sitting in the hospital praying for her to pass in peace as i couldn;t see her in such pain any longer... it hurts so much more cause she was just such a great person!
  5. I know some people may wonder how the loss of a step parent would be so traumatic but it is. Before my mother even met my step father she was married to my father who was abusive. He punched and slapped my mom and brother frequently and one time tried swinging and ax at me. My mom wanted to escape but she didn't know how, she felt trapped. She spoke online to a man who lived in Rhode island, they started out being friends, he knew all about how my father was and offered my mom and us a place to stay just to get away from him. She took the offer, one day while my dad was at work she packed up the car and took us with her to Rhode island. We were there for three months before my brother and I had to go back or my mom would go to jail. so we went back and it didn't take long for my father to screw up again, with my brother and i showing up to school with bruises someone finally called dcyf. We lived with our grandmother for two years then went back up to Rhode Island. Where my mom and my soon to be step father welcomed us with open arms. Me and my brother were a little nervous about this new man being in our lives but little did we know he was looked down upon by his family for having us stay with him. His mother, aunt and father didn't like the fact that he took us in yet he still continued to care for us entirely, enough so that we didn't even know about all this until he died. we were living happily for years, than the summer of my freshman year of high school, my brother went off to the army and july 12,2008 My step father passed away suddenly. My mom and I found him, I almost passed out, I kept yelling that he might be sick or just unconscious. I called 911 and that was it one of my worst nightmares came true, my whole family's life was turned upside down, my mom started drinking and taking ambien and i couldn't sleep at night i was failing in school. I was in ap classes but quickly failed out of that. My brother was stuck in boot camp all alone to deal with the depression of losing the most selfless person we had ever met. to this day, five years later it still hurts like it did when it happened and I remember that day like it was yesterday.
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