Gin Wigmore Quotes

After my husband died, I could not write much - I could not concentrate. I was too exhausted most of the time even to contemplate writing. But I did take notes - not for fiction, but for a journal, or diary, of this terrible time. I did not think that I would ever survive this interlude.

Grief is in two parts. The first is loss. The second is the remaking of life.

There's a general impulse to distract the grieving person - as if you could.

When my dad died a lot of songs came, and they're still coming.

To grieve is something extremely difficult, we don't even know how to begin to grieve, and I don't know how you can be taught to grieve.

When my dad passed, there's a lot of sadness right below the surface, and I think there will be until the day I die. So, writing sad songs helps it. And when I sing them, it's pure therapy for me.

My dad passed away before my freshman year, and it altered how I thought. I was depressed - I didn't hang out with my friends. I worked through it by dancing.

One often calms one's grief by recounting it.

I very much faced my mother's death with hard, arduous and time-consuming labor. The more I would do, the less I would feel.

When 'Ishaqzaade' released, I was going through hell. It didn't matter what I said or did, because I had lost my mother.

Do I miss him? Of course I do. Every day. His death was devastating, he was just 51. But you know, in my stand-up my Dad will always be alive. He's so much part of my act.

I had taken a three-and-a-half year break from films because I lost my wife Rina and had to take care of my son.

First of all, a lot of people, a lot of women and men, have lost their children. I'm not the only one. But I happen to be blessed that my son gave me all these things to work with so that I get to work out my grief in a way that other people are not able to. So I can't possibly be downtrodden about that.

When my father passed away two or three years ago, I didnt listen to music for four days - thats a long time for me.

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

When my father died in my arms it had such a profound affect on me that at that very moment when my dad passed I realized that I needed to face my own fears.

When you lose a person you love so much, surviving the loss is difficult.

I ought not to speak about the dead because the dead are all over the place.

Grief is a process, not a state.

Obviously, at this age, I've lost people in my life. But with a parent, it's just different. I was very attached to my father and had this naive little-girl notion that he'd always be around. So I'm finding acceptance of my father's death is the hardest thing to accept.

The grief of losing my father has come in waves over the years, as it does with most people. His love and devotion as a father provided my closest, most intimate relationship. Dad, and our time together, is in my bones. While reflecting on him, the memories themselves seem to boil down into certain 'essences of Dad.'

There's something about losing friends, particularly young people, where it's not something that you get over. I don't believe there's a healing process.

I was very empty after my father passed away. It was an emotional time, as it would be for anyone, but to be in the studio every day was kind of cathartic and healing and it just seemed very natural to continue.

These displays of affection mean a lot to our family and are a reminder of the heart that my people have. In this time of grief we ask for a little privacy and space to digest this news; our sister was our sun and we are broken by her departure.

The thing about losing any loved one, I think, particularly in a long disease, is that you know that other people have gone through it and are going through it, but I think for every person it feels unique.