Mayte Garcia Quotes

Grief changes shape, but it never ends.

I've always had a really difficult time with loss.

I lost three cousins and a best friend, and they all came at the wrong time. Everyone told me to be strong and that they were in a better place. But I didn't want to hear that. They were gone and I will never see them again.

It took me a year to talk about my miscarriage.

You learn to accept losing someone, but you never get over it.

I never know what to tell them. I mean, there's nothing you can say to make a person stop hurting. Half the time, I just feel like telling them the truth. I'd say that for 3 months, you're going to feel worse than you've ever felt and you cope as best you can. And that after 6 months, the pain isn't so bad, but it still hurts more than you think it will. And even after years, you still find yourself thinking about the person you lost and get sad about it. And you still miss them all the time.

Losing my parents was probably the hardest and deepest blow from which I've had to recover.

Everybody has lost somebody that they care about, or hopefully you haven't, but that's part of life.

When grief is deepest, words are fewest.

Grief is characterized much more by waves of feeling that lessen and reoccur, it's less like stages and more like different states of feeling.

I know what you go through when you learn someone close to you has died.

Mourning is not forbidden, you know.

Grief is sort of the allowance of feeling.

None of us are immune to grief, and everyone who has suffered loss understands that grief changes, but you never wake up one morning and you've moved on. It stays with you, and, you know, you ebb and flow.

I write about what happens in my life - and my dad's passing was a huge blow to me.

My father passed away when I was 18. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but it is not like that all the time. Not every moment is dark.

Talking about the loss of my parents... that was really, really difficult to go through.

It's not easy to adapt to losing a lot.

Grief is a very complicated monster. There's no real exorcising of it. It has a different form every day.

Sometimes I feel like I've forgotten how to be the mom after the death of my son.

After Balasaheb died, I have not spoken. What do I say?

I miss her all the time. I know in my head that she has gone. the only difference is that I am getting used to the pain. It's like discovering a great hole in the ground. To begin with, you forget it's there and keep falling in. After a while, it's still there, but you learn to walk round it.

My grandfather's death was really hard to deal with.

I remember the day my mother died, and it's still hard to talk about it. I just blocked it out.

To mourn is to wonder at the strangeness that grief is not written all over your face in bruised hieroglyphics. And it's also to feel, quite powerfully, that you're not allowed to descend into the deepest fathom of your grief - that to do so would be taboo somehow.