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Reading List about Loss & College Students in Grief

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Reading List about Loss & College Students in Grief

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I've created a website to contextualize this project and to share some suggested readings about the topic. Please let me know if you'd like to share any other resources.
Website: https://lossawayfromhome.wordpress.com

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I'd been away from home for a few years and hadn't met my maternal grandmother (the only grandparent to have been alive after my birth) too often. She lived with my uncle and aunt, my parents stayed in a different country and I in a different city. It was difficult to get everyone together too often. I hadn't seen her in years. My mother called me up one day to tell me and also asked me not to come to the funeral (to protect me). I didn't know what to feel. I still don't. It's been over a year now. I also lost my uncle 8 years ago, and the same thing happened then, my parents went to the funeral and didn't allow me to attend and I remember being confused and sad.
These were members of my family that I felt some connection to but I didn't completely understand them or the connection. Being the youngest I was always dismissed as too young to understand or deal with anything, but I craved to get to know them better anyway. I just never got the chance to and they left before I was mature enough in their eyes.
As for healing from the loss, time helped the most. All I had to do was go through the motions of daily life. But whenever I do think about them, I still wonder what it would have been like if they were still here and I could show them who I am now and get to talk to them as adults would.

I don't have pictures of them or the house that they remind me of, unfortunately. But here's a picture of a little coin purse my grandmother had made for me, which I would fill with coins that my uncle would give me. I just realised that I hadn't made this connection between them before, this made me happy. :)

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In my sophomore year in college, I lost my grandpa, with whom I lived since I was ten. It was only after a few weeks of hospitalization that he passed away -- something I had not expected when I said goodbye to depart my home in the summer of that year. My family asked me not to bother flying back home, and everyone except me attended his funeral. I did not know what to feel -- my grandpa was a quite man, constantly engaged in his agriculture and his hobby of collecting old books. Even though he helped me and my brothers with various aspects of life growing up, he never said many words about life. Later I drew his memory and gave it to my grandma -- my grandma complained that she didn't quite want to see the picture like that only to make her sad. My family ain't good at expressing their sorrow.

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In my sophomore year in college, I lost my grandpa, with whom I lived since I was ten. It was only after a few weeks of hospitalization that he passed away -- something I had not expected when I said goodbye to depart my home in the summer of that year. My family asked me not to bother flying back home, and everyone except me attended his funeral. I did not know what to feel -- my grandpa was a quite man, constantly engaged in his agriculture and his hobby of collecting old books. Even though he helped me and my brothers with various aspects of life growing up, he never said many words about life. Later I drew his memory and gave it to my grandma -- my grandma complained that she didn't quite want to see the picture like that only to make her sad. My family ain't good at expressing their sorrow.

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My lola, grandmother in Tagalog, had a million orchids--or so it seemed to my young mind. I was amazed at how she tended to each one, coaxing them to grow until her entire "orchid wall" in the backyard was covered in many-colored blooms. Her crown jewel was the Waling-waling, pictured below, a rare orchid indigenous to the Philippines. In the same way as she would care for her prized plants, she tended to me when I would spend summers with her in my childhood, nurturing my talents and helping me grow as a person.

My lola died half a year after I immigrated to the United States. Devastated doesn't even come close to describing the feelings I had when I heard the news. I would never see lola again, never hold her fragile-looking hands that were equally strong and gentle... I never got to say goodbye. It was doubly painful to me that I could not even go to her funeral, as we didn't have the funds to fly back to the Philippines at the time.

I don't know that anything helped me cope with her loss except for time. I still haven't gone back to to visit her grave, but in some ways, I feel like I don't need to anymore. I just know that I carry her lessons, her nurturing, and her spirit with me always.

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* This is not a place to compare or judge others’ experiences; each personal story is unique.
* Please use the language that is appropriate to create a dialogue around the experiences of bereavement.
* Please respect each other’s experiences when commenting or posing questions to others. When someone asks a question, you have a right to pass if you prefer not to answer.