Love, loss, and Carrie Fisher’s lamp

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That was beautifully written. Where’s my hankie?


True strength is so apparent through being openly vulnerable. You are stronger than you know. This is outstanding writing too. :heart:


Lovely… thanks for sharing that. I’m so sorry for your loss.



I sympathize with your struggles, thanks for sharing a part of your life story, your struggles, and pain. I hope you know that you’re not alone.


For anyone dealing with this or other mental health crises, an international list:


My mother died of pancreatic cancer in May 2017. Our relationship was close but intermittently volatile. She was simultaneously a free spirit (for herself and those outside her immediate family) and a control freak (for family members). This contradiction has made grieving her complicated because so many people have shared stories of her non-judgmental supportiveness and willingness to listen, while I experienced the exact opposite from her throughout my life.

In the 2 1/2 years since she died, my grieving has shifted from the first year’s straightforward sadness, tempered with relief that she didn’t linger in suffering, to something more fraught. It sneaks up on me unexpectedly, and I am suddenly wrapped up in unresolved feelings stemming from now unresolvable issues between us. Letting go of all that is still a work in progress.

I read somewhere that grief is a sealed box with a button inside and a ball inside. The ball rolls around invisibly, pressing the button frequently during the turbulent early months, then slows down over time as stability returns. But even years later, something can shake the box just enough to roll the ball into the grief button unexpectedly. So grief doesn’t go away; it just becomes less frequently and maybe less intensely triggered over time. This metaphor works for me.


Thank you for sharing this with us, Gina. I really hope you’re getting the help you want and need. Your absence from the BBS for much of the past couple years is now explained - I’m very sorry for your loss.

And the lamp…I bet there’s a good story behind it.


A lovely tribute, beautifully written. You’re in our thoughts, Gina. :purple_heart::dog::muscle:


Your relationship with your Mom really resonated, as a close friend has an eerily similar relationship with her Mom. Your story will be important to her mental health as time progresses.

Please know that you’re not alone in your struggles with grief, depression, or getting your life in line. It literally will take lots of time and many resets of coping tactics. As much as you want to insulate and turn away, being open and talking about it is an opportunity to learn just how not-alone you are.

When my father died in 2002 I was (and still am) unprepared for all of the ways grief manifested. The empty hole in your psyche builds scar tissue over time, yet many things still spur immediate unchecked tears. There were long low points where I felt no capacity for joy or even interest; where getting off the couch was an effort I couldn’t muster. I forced myself to look for anything that would entice interest, and have found that appreciating nature has been a slow build back to giving a crap overall.

You’ll find small joys (dat lamp, yo!) and you’ll build that scar tissue. You’ll acquire more coping techniques, and one day you’ll find yourself different but quite okay.

Thank you for sharing.


My dad hung on twice as long as they told him to expect before the pancreatic cancer got him. Thankfully he died with family at home, which was not a sure thing.
I read this post early this morning. (“Post” seems such an inadequate word for writing of this level.) Today is, by coincidence, my dad’s birthday. I cried while reading it. Keep doing what you’re doing; you have so much to offer.


Beautiful story, @GinaLoukareas. Thank you for writing it and sharing it with us. May your grief be healed.


Thank you all for the kind words. I hope you all have a very happy new year!


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