Best 18 quotes of Andrea Raynor on MyQuotes

By living, however, we have the opportunity to affirm that life is meaningful, that our lives are meaningful, and that the end of one life—even one we hold dear—does not necessitate the permanent cessation of happiness.

Comfort is found not in what people say to each other but in how they listen to one another. That is the miracle. That is also the lesson. Unless one is truly willing to be with other people in their pain, to listen with love and empathy without trying to fix them, the mouth is better off closed.

Death can prompt a slamming of the interior door. We don’t want to open it because doing so means living without the ones we love. Prayer helps loosen the lock. It allows oxygen to flow back into our spirits after being depleted by grief. We take that first deep breath when we accept what has happened. In doing so, we are no longer suffocated by our yearning for the past. Grateful for all that has been, for the beauty and love we have known, we can begin to live again.

Death doesn’t feel like a wound; it feels more like an amputation. We cannot grow back the part of ourselves that we have lost. We cannot simply stitch together the hole left by our loved ones’ absence. We need to learn how to walk again. This takes time, yes, but time will not fix it. What it may do is allow scar tissue to form so that walking is not so painful.

Holding on to the past is different from being grateful for it. If we view our present lives as but the charred remains of what was, something dies inside of us. And what was given to us by our loved ones, what we learned from them, and what we are able to carry with us in the embers are left to grow cold. We alone are able to keep the flames that were ignited by our relationships burning. To do this, we need to guard the sparks that remain and breathe new life into them by being open to the ongoing possibility of connection and happiness.

It’s difficult to move forward when we dwell on that which cannot be changed. If we remain too long in the shadow of what has happened, we can become shadows ourselves. Sometimes we are searching for our loved ones, sometimes for a part of ourselves, for the people we were before this loss. But our loved ones cannot be found in the darkness of never because they exist now in the light of eternity.

It’s important to remember that what has already been can never be taken from us. The past is, perhaps, the only sure thing we have. It is inked on the pages of our lives, not penciled in. And there is some comfort in that.

It's not unusual to feel emotionally split, as if living a dual reality. How we are functioning on the outside is often not reflective of what is happening on the inside. If we could photograph this, it might look like a double exposure. Grief is a layer that we wear on our hearts and spirits, at least for a time. Initially, it might be like outerwear. We wrap ourselves in it—we may even lose ourselves in it—and others understand that we cannot take it off in their presence, even if we tried. When it becomes too heavy or uncomfortable to lug around, we tuck it under the surface of our skin or pack it away in an interior closet. But we never forget it is there.

Love never lets go of our hands. Never. We came into the world as individual souls—held, blessed, named, loved—and we have a responsibility to our souls to keep living, living until we make our own way back home. Those who have gone before us have left torches along the path in the form of lessons imparted, examples set, and people who need our help. When we are willing to embark again on the path, to grab on to whatever rope God throws us in our times of loneliness and despair, our loved ones will be there to guide

Maybe the best way to reach for God is to reach for one another.

Memories are precious, but they are part of the past. The things we treasure, whether a facet of a memory, a particular aspect of a loved one, or a tangible talisman, we carry with us—always. They continue to inform us about our loved ones and remind us that life is ongoing, that we can still learn from those who have died and can still feel their presence. The smell of Old Spice will forever be my grandfather. My bony wrists and the veins in my hands are remnants of my grandmother. These small things are treasures that will never lose their value and cannot be taken from me.

Our loved ones, however they might have died, are not constrained to their last moments on earth. They simply aren’t. So we should not keep them there either.

Our spirits are embroidered with silver threads stitching us to our loved ones. They are adorned with the jewels of every moment shared and all that we cherished about them. By our choosing to live on, they can live on. If we dissolve into the darkness of despair, they cannot shine. Our loved ones do not want us to stop living because they have died; they want us to live. They want us to bring them with us into each new day so that a part of them can remain on earth through the stories we share. After a time, however long that is (and it is different for different people), sorrow ceases to be a tribute to the deceased. It distracts from their stories and puts the focus on us, on our pain, on our lives. They have not moved on from us; they are living within and beyond us. And we have not moved on from them when we take a step toward happiness, acceptance, and peace. We live on together when we live on in love.

Perhaps the first thing we can do is to acknowledge that there is, in reality, no such thing as living in the past. If there were, many brokenhearted people would be hopping the first train there. We are always living in the present moment; that’s all we have. But the present is not empty. Our internal sanctuaries cannot be robbed of what has already been or the treasure trove of memories we bring to everything we do and all that we see. Yesterday may be a time to which we can never go back, but it is also the guardian of what can never be taken from us—each moment shared and every tender word exchanged. We will always have these. When we are grieving, however, reaching for things in the past can be like stuffing our pockets with make-believe gold. We think the real gold lies behind us when, in reality, it lies within.

The flame of love can never dwindle unless we insist on confining it to the past.

The theologian Karl Barth said, “Joy is the simplest form of gratitude.” If we can access our gratitude for having known and loved those we have lost, perhaps we can begin again to experience joy.

Those we love will always be a part of us. Will we miss them? Of course we will! It is terribly painful to begin the journey of living without them. But refusing to take even one wobbly step toward a new way of experiencing all they have left us does not honor them and will not bring them close again. It may take time, maybe years, for us to take that first step out of the darkness of despair and the shadows of the past into the dawn of a new present. But when we do, we will not be disappointed. Our loved ones are waiting for us there, not just in the future when we join them in what is to come, but in the present, where their loving energy can still be felt.

When we stop asking why and instead begin to find our why, we can start mapping out our how. And something will begin to heal inside of us. Some people are afraid of healing. They mistakenly think healing means letting their loved ones go and leaving them in the past. This is not true. As we heal, we are better able to carry our loved ones with us because our arms are open. We are open. And in that openness the energy and love that is our son or daughter, our husband or sister will begin to seep in the cracks of our parched and weary hearts.