ReelDazed
Opening my eyes after nodding off for a second, I saw my dad exhale his last breath.
Opening my eyes after nodding off for a second, I saw my dad exhale his last breath.
We sat in the graveyard for 20 minutes, nothing scary happened, and we decided we shall be cremated when we die.
How do you pray for a heart for a sick little girl when you know it's like hoping for someone else's child to die?
I stumbled upon a DVD of yours in our collection and put it aside to give back, only to find out moments later that you were dead.
I know you squeezed my hand back when you were in that coma.
Each time I buckle my young daughters life jacket, I can still see her mom, running, screaming across the sand as they try and revive her.
You made your sister an only child after the "Half of My Heart is in Iraq" sticker on your truck became untrue.
I have a clock in my living room that my dad loved and it stopped on the day he died at the exact time of his death.
The last thing I saw before the shrapnel hit us was my buddy, Ryan, smiling at me while saying, "Relax or you'll die all tense."
As I held my son back while he was screaming at his dead mother, I had the strangest feeling I had seen this exact scene in a movie.
I really think that if he didn't die in the plane crash, my grandmother and mother would have turned out so differently.
Upon hearing of my father's death, I calmly noted that people really do drop the phone when they hear bad news.
As the man sitting next to me on the plane bragged about how he had died three times, I crossed my fingers and quietly prayed for us to land before number four.
A week after his death I got an email from my mother in law informing me that my father had hung himself in the basement of the house I grew up in, and she ended the letter with "I didn't call because I don't know how you would react to such terrible news."
Two years after he died, and my heart still jumps when I see a guy who looks like John.
I had never seen my father cry until he found my pet bunny Coco dead in my backyard.
I did not say goodbye to my Dad as he left for work the last time.
I braced myself, stoic and still as stone, as they wheeled your body into the room, and I didn't break down until I realized your long hair was still wet from the last shower you took.
When my neighbors' 4-year-old son died unexpectedly in his sleep, I wasn't suicidal anymore.
Up until I saw the man's legs sticking out from under the truck's trailer I had thought the woman's shrieking had been unmerited.
She often cries while watching him sleep, hands clasped on his chest, reminding her again of his sister's tiny corpse.
After crushing the tiny spider with a roll of painters tape I felt a sudden pang of guilt knowing that I had ended a life for no reason other than my own silly phobia.
The bluebird nest box that contained one egg, two baby birds, and one female bluebird this morning now stands empty as the male bluebird chirps, and chirps, and chirps some more as he seeks a new mate to start over with.
The only special thing I did for Earth Day was bury my cat in the back yard.
Because he killed himself, I was able to fall in love.
Over two months later and I still can't bring myself to delete his name from my phone
I was six when I woke up next to my grandma to find that she had died in her sleep.
If you've never seen your friend's baby girl wave goodbye to her daddy as his casket leaves the funeral, I want to be you.
My son announced cheerfully that his new sport activity never resulted in injuries - only deaths
A Google search was an awful way to find out my birth father was dead, but at least I found my birth mother.
When I found you sitting dead in your chair, my first thought was, "Who's going to give me away at my wedding?"
Had I known it would've been our last night together I wouldn't have cancelled our date.
For weeks after my beloved cat died he hung out in my peripheral vision, a fleeting orange streak in the corner of my eye, as though to assure me he was ok.
The sight of my usually stoic mother weeping on the lid of her brother's casket is one I wish I could have gone a lifetime without seeing.
I told my boss that when my dog died I would need a week of for a death in the family.
I was 14 when I grasped my fathers lifeless hand and realized I didn't hate him after all.
She starved herself, and hurt herself, and now she's dead and all I can think is, "She never even got to have a first real kiss".
I was 3 and then I was 10 and now I'm 19 and more lost than I ever imagined I could be.
About the dumbest thing you can say about an embalmed body at a funeral is that they "look good," but that is what everyone kept saying.
My father died when I was six and the day after, I wrote in my diary that I was feeling better.
It was better to have 23 years with a wonderful mom than 53 years with a lousy one.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from the chair, still warm, as they carted your body away.
I slammed my body into the hood of my truck on the night you died and the dent is still there.
Over the last month, the cold reality of life has struck since one uncle died, another uncle had a stroke, my mother found out she has breast cancer and my grandmother is on her way to an assisted living facility.
Instead of him they sent back a folded flag, and when I was alone I tore it to pieces.
The best hug I ever got was just before I found out one of my friends was dead.
On her deathbed, she reached for my hand despite not knowing exactly who I was and with a thin but honest smile, asked, "However did you escape?"
They had swaddled the newborn so it appeared to be sleeping, and as I walked by the crying from the other side of the door, I found myself leaving to go hold my own newborn son.
I cried not because of the amount of the inheritance, but because I can't cash it in to bring her back.
Her first attempt at CPR shouldn't have to have been on her own mother.
My dad was slowly bleeding to death by the roadside some 100 meters away when I was washing the dishes for the first time in my life.
I saw my grandmother's death, the grandmother I had lived with until the seventh grade, as merely an opportunity to miss school.
My best friend hung himself on a Friday afternoon, and when I checked my cell phone the morning of his funeral I realized he had called me that day at 3:24PM.
My wife died eight days before her 35th birthday which would have been ten days ago.
I am so glad I got that chance to just hold him and talk to him and breathe in his little doggie smell.
Fred died less than sixteen hours after he attended our concert, after which he had repeatedly told us how well we'd done.
The nine year old said he had moved on from his best friend, who was killed by a falling branch a year ago, but as he stared at the spot where he died, I knew he hadn't.
That last night, Echo broke out of her cage, climbed into bed with me and waited for me to wake up.
We collectively realized she was gone when we sat down to eat our Thanksgiving dinner and realized that nobody made the gravy this year.
She cried so hard, I though the casket was going to fall over.
I never had the courage to talk to him when he was right upstairs but I drove for two days with no insurance to see him die the next day.
This morning while in the shower the ground shook, and I realized my greatest fear is to die naked.
During the 90 minutes he was in our arms, his mother and I loved him a lifetime.
My father died as I asked my grandmother why she was crying.
It's never like the movies...we pulled the plug and he took two hours to die.
When I arrived at the memorial site, I couldn't think of anything witty or poignent to write, so I just carved 'I miss you' into the telephone pole that killed you and went home.
When my phone rang, I expected to hear her voice, but all I heard was her mother crying and saying, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I didn't believe you."
I was never very close with my Grandfather, so it's no surprise that when he died and all my cousins received a cherished belonging of his, I got some socks.
Dad's been dead for six years and Mom died eight months ago, but my sister who was supposed to "take care of everything" just now got around to paying for their headstone.
The day my grandfather was diagnosed as HIV positive was the day my mother found out she was pregnant with me.
I watched the old VHS tapes of him filming the ocean for most of the night with the sudden realization that he was filming the ocean because it was the last time he would ever see it again.
Today in my embalming lab we sliced, injected, and sutured a woman who is my thriving grandmother's senior by only six days.
My dad died six years ago and I'm starting forget what he was like because it hurts too much for me to think about him.
It's been eight years this Thanksgiving, and they still sob over his death.
She meant it as a joke when she saw our downcast faces and asked "Who died?", but she didn't expect me to answer.
The 1/32nd dose of the experimental drug cut her cancer in half, and I can't help but wonder if she would be alive today if they would have just given her a full therapeutic dose.
My first kiss happened just months after my mother died.
To this day I still entertain the idea that my father's death was just an awful conspiracy.
I felt terrible telling my son that his second mouse "ran away" with the help of the first mouse who had done the same.
I find reasons why I can't visit his grave because I'm terrified it will make everything come rushing back.
After he died I've always avoided the cherry tree orchards.
When I called my friend after her husband died, I didn't think that she would end up consoling me.
I spend every day hoping someone in my community dies so that I can finish my 10-funeral-observation before I go back to school in August.
6 years ago today I could have died but didn't and no one seems to care but me.
He's dead, he's been dead 30 years, he will stay dead, deal with it and move on.
After I hadn't heard from you in a while, I looked you up, and found out you had died in a motorcycle accident eight months ago.
This morning, on my bedroom floor, lay a dying firefly, its light blinking on and off, still signaling for a mate.
Later, I would realize that I cried harder when my dog died than I did at Mom's funeral.
It's been nine years, but the cemetery keeper still remembers my name.
I told him he wasn't allowed to die until I was ready to say goodbye, but he didn't listen.
When she died, I cried not because I would miss her every day for the rest of my life, but because there was no one left in the world who loved me.
Christmas Eve is one hell of a time to learn that some old wives' tales are true.
She had no idea that when she sarcastically said "I know I'm going to die," about getting her wisdom teeth pulled that she actually would.
I then came to realize that because of such freakish weather that winter, that global warming took my friends life.
One of the worst feelings comes along with seeing your dog dying in the middle of the road after you accidently ran over her.
I learned that my father had written a Cold War-era spy novel from a eulogist at his funeral.
I didn't know the stupid cat had been my best friend for fifteen years until I realized he was refusing to let himself die unless I was there to hold him.
She found it ironic that in order to deal with the stress of her mother dying of lung cancer she turned to smoking two packs a day.
As my dog of 15 years lay lifeless in my arms, I was screaming her name so loud that I swear she could hear me in death, because she woke up and wagged her tail.
It constantly amazes me that every single day it takes me a few minutes post-waking before I realize that my father has been dead for almost 2 years and my mom is on her way to jail for prescription fraud.
For three long, dreadful years of my life I lived with her, I breathed in her foul smelling second hand smoke every single day, and as she died many years later, I sat there wishing I could breathe it again just one last time.
Right before my father died nearly 20 years ago, he told me to quit smoking, and last month I finally did.
The man's face was so badly decomposed that the cop asked me "Well, does this look like something he would have done with his hair?"
I had gone 28 years - my entire life - without touching a dead body, and I'm quite content to go another 28 years before doing it again.