Deep Thoughts by B: Read at Your Own Risk

Photo by Eugenio Recuenco via KOS

I know a lot of you are curious about what has happened to me… how come I went from someone who was so clearly invested in this blog to someone who hardly ever posts. Did she quit? Does she not care? Is she just too busy? Will she be back?

I am not going to go into a lot of detail, because my personal life is my personal life after all, and that ultimately isn’t what this blog is about.

However, I have decided to share something with you today that is very personal to me. It is something that has impacted my life in a very big way the past few months. Something has made me withdraw from this blog because I just haven’t been able to motivate myself to write about fashion and style and jewelry and pretty things the way I used to.

That something is death.

You can stop reading right now if you like. I understand. You probably came here looking for something lighthearted and this certainly isn’t it. So I truly do understand if you move on to the next blog post in your reader. But my emotions and the thoughts in my head are screaming for an outlet of some sort, and what better place to act as one than a blog?


Back to death.


People lose family members, friends, and acquaintances all the time. Death is just a part of life. You would think that, as a 36 year-old woman, I would already have quite a bit of experience with death. And in many ways, I do.

But in just as many ways, I don’t.

I have been fortunate in my life that, until recently, I hadn’t lost many loved ones. The majority of those that I have lost passed away when I was much younger and they lived in a different country.

Across the ocean.

The other side of the world.

They were family… but for many years, they were also almost strangers to me. People I met once as a very, very young girl and only had vague memories of. People I only knew through stories told by my mother and father. People I longed to know… but never had an opportunity to meet.

Up until this past year, they were really the only people I had lost. Faint memories and characters in the story of my parents life. Their deaths impacted me simply because they impacted my mother and father, not because I knew them. I didn’t know them. They were little more than strangers.. and that always made me feel guilty somehow.

This past year that all changed. Now the people who are dying are more than faint memories and characters in a story. They are aunts and uncles and cousins I know and love. Friends I grew up with. Acquaintances I have known for countless years. People I love.

I guess it’s just a part of life… as you get older, the people around you get older, and the losses start to grow in number. This past year that number has become almost unbearable… we are well into the double-digits where loss is concerned. Some were expected. Some were tragic accidents.  All have been difficult, especially the most recent.

Yesterday we found out that my Uncle has been diagnosed with Stage IV Liver Cancer.  The doctors don’t know exactly how much time he has left, but it’s somewhere between hours and weeks.  We are all devastated beyond words, but all we can do at this point is be there for one another.

Be strong.


Try to let go.

And here is the problem.

Though I have let go of  those we have lost so far, I am struggling with something else.  These past few months I have found myself repeatedly confronted with the one thing that almost everyone hates to think about: mortality.  But whose mortality?

Not my mortality. That is the least of my worries.

Not the mortality of my Uncle.  That is constantly in my thoughts, but there is something else weighing on me.

That something is the mortality of my own mother and father.

The fact that, one day in my lifetime, unless there is some tragic twist of fate, they will be gone.

The very thought causes shortness of breath and heart palpitations.

It makes everything else in life seem so trivial…

So… unimportant.


I can’t imagine that day ever arriving, but this unbelievably cruel year has served as a type of wake-up call to me, and it isn’t a pleasant one.

I can’t think about it.

I can’t dwell on it.

And I won’t (you’ll have to forgive me this one time).

I promise I won’t.

I’ll continue to live life and make each day count.



But sometimes, sometimes…

Sometimes I can’t escape that thought.

And it paralyzes me.

{ 26 comments… add one }

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  • Cocco February 27, 2015, 2:14 PM

    B, read your letter… I am touched to say the least. I too am facing the same thing with my own parents… I know that time will eventually take them from me. But I choose to think on the things for today and also it helps to remember all the wonderful things from the past… The great times we had will always feel as though they happened yesterday. Life really is just a vapor.. But nothing can take away the memories that we have built upon in our lives with our families. God Bless You!

  • Meagan Lodge August 24, 2013, 4:07 AM

    Hello, I just read your blog and I am weeping… I have no words. I have recently suffered a loss. I am 43 years young and am an orphan. My parents were divorced for 16 years but left this world three years almost to the day apart. As a young girl I was paralyzed with the thought of my mother dying. I found footing as an adult to deal with loss. Not ever an easy journey. No words or time can take the striking pain out of one’s heart at the loss of a parent or sibling. Much peace to you. Sadly this is a terrible journey we ALL have to take at one point or another. No story is more impactful over the other. It all is relative. xo

    • Beautifully Invisible August 27, 2013, 11:40 AM

      Hi Meagan, thank you for taking the time to comment on this post. I am sorry for your loss(es) and hope that you have found some peace with your own. As they say, time does heal all wounds… some just take longer than others. xoxo

  • elise February 7, 2013, 5:04 AM

    I’m going to keep this short.
    I know it has been a while since this post, and I have honestly never read your blog before. I stumbled upon it while looking at quotes on how to deal with death. I don’t know your situation, but I hope everything worked out, or at the least, ended in a peaceful farewell.

    I wanted to share with you, and anyone who reads this, a prayer that has helped me through almost everything and that applies to these tough moments you had:

    God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
    the courage to change the thing I can,
    and the wisdom to know the difference.

    I am a control freak! there i admit it!
    i repeat this prayer through everything tough in life, whether it is as petty as flying in an airplane, or as serious as a loved one leaving…
    We as humans naturally think we are invincible, but somethings are up to fait and we have to ACCEPT that. Other things, however, are in our control, and we have to have the COURAGE to make them wright. Most importantly, we MUST have the WISDOM to determine what is and what isn’t in our control or else we will live a life of angst.

    hope this finds you well and you haven’t given up on your blog!

  • Sergio November 6, 2012, 11:14 AM

    The pain of loss is inevitable…but through death comes a new life…whenever your time comes you will see all your loved ones again and in a way that can not be explained…but in the place where there is no more loss…it will be perfect…believe and you will see…but i feel like you know what to do until then…don’t worry, be strong, and be happy.

  • Belle April 24, 2012, 9:59 PM

    I’m so sorry to hear about your losses. I’m new to your blog but I just had to comment because your worry about your mum and dad’s mortality struck a chord with me. This is something I have struggled with for a very long time, and a couple of years ago the fear became extreme as a result of other factors I won’t mention here. Anyway, I ended up seeing a counsellor, and he advised me that whenever the fear came in to my head, to think about where my mum and dad are NOW, what they’re doing, and concentrate on that: They’re alive, they’re here, enjoy the present, and worry about the future when it happens. I know it sounds simplistic but it did help me. Of course I still have that fear but it’s not as paralysing as it once was. Because mortality totally sucks, but it sucks even more to let it ruin the time when we and our loved ones are alive.
    I just thought I’d share what has helped me in the hope it may help you, but either way, I feel you. I hope it gets better for you.

  • Chastity Milen April 19, 2012, 3:32 PM

    I know that I have been really lucky too here for just about the past ten years in avoiding death of anyone that I know, but it is always hard when it happens. I know that what I might say won’t make a lot of difference, but have faith that the future will bring you to brighter days.

  • WendyB April 18, 2012, 3:58 PM

    I’m so sorry for your losses, and for your uncle’s illness.

  • Fajr April 16, 2012, 3:07 PM

    This is a very moving post B and I’m sorry for your loss of late. I can totally relate to the idea of losing a parent. I do not even want to think of the day when my mother will be gone. I hope that you find solace in the fact that we are all blessed with life and death and that the universe will always make sure you are ok, even in the event that are loved ones leave us.

    You will come through this much stronger 😉

  • Bella Q April 16, 2012, 11:53 AM

    I am not going to offer you stoic words of comfort, B. Because I know you are strong enough to discover them for yourself. While your presence is missed here in Bloggyland, your existence is still felt, because you are you- and feel the world the way you do. It is part of living to mourn the loss, the losing of loved ones, of life passages, and it is living richly that one does so with grace, dignity and honesty. Here’s to your life, richly lived- and here’s to the loved ones who mark us so keenly. Love to you, B.

  • Gladilyn April 16, 2012, 11:21 AM

    The post is refreshing. We need to be ready always for what would be happens. We cannot predict and bring back what is already done.

  • Born27 April 16, 2012, 9:55 AM

    I know how it feels. I know the fear behind every words you’ve said. I’ve thought of it how many times in my life. And I am not even ready. I’ll never be. I just don’t know what will happen to me if they’ll be gone. I jsut can’t endure the pain. If thoughts are killing me slowly, how much more when it comes to reality. But I keep telling myself. No, they’ll not leave. I trust Him, I trust God and every saints. I know they’ll not make this happen. No NOT THIS TIME. It can’t be. All I can do is to think positive. Making them feel how much I love them everyday. Because I DO. We love our parents. And the best thing we can do is to be strong and hold to the faith we have to the Lord. Everything will be fine.

  • Charlenevans April 11, 2012, 6:39 AM

    I understand how you felt right now. We all do feel that way if someone close to us is having a hard time or fighting against death. I do have a cousin who has a breast cancer, she was diagnosed 8 years ago. But instead of treating her like it was her last day on earth, we are encouraging her to fight. As much as possible we are don’t want to let her feel that we are starting to mourn or sad.
    I know you can recover from it.

  • Shybiker April 9, 2012, 9:50 AM

    Mortality is a tough subject to wrestle with and the death of a close one brings it to the fore.

    The very possibility of our parents’ dying is enough to send any of us into a downward swirl, whatever our age. They are our landmarks, our signposts, and life without them seems unthinkable. My mom died young (54) and, for years after, I was adrift. I realized there was nobody left on Earth who cared if I lived or died, used drugs or succeeded. She was gone and the hole in my life was huge.

    Hang in there. It often helps to talk about these things, to sort out how we feel. A blog can be good for that.

  • GRIT & GLAMOUR April 8, 2012, 7:45 PM

    Oh, B, there is nothing I can say that would ever erase your pain or your loss. I know how you feel, and I also know how it feels to just want to shut the blog down, that you can’t be bothered. Blogs ARE trivial when we step back and measure them against our relationships and the true focus and priorities of our lives. That said, sharing your experiences and how you’ve coped does serve a purpose. My major homesickness in Australia, which I cataloged on my blog in a special section, has given a lot of people some comfort, as I’ve been told through comments. So even if your grief and emotions seem inappropriate and limiting, in reality, they aren’t. You are working through your emotions through writing (which is very healthy), and someone feeling the very same things might just happen upon your post(s) and find solace in the shared feelings.

    And I will NEVER forget the immense kindness you showed me when you organized donations to the ALS foundation on behalf of my most beloved uncle, who passed away almost a year ago due to Lou Gehrig’s disease. It was a stunning gesture from the blog world, from unseen friends in faraway places. It was a gesture that comforted me when I had even more strife (other than the tremendous loss I felt) at the time. So I say to you, do what feels right. Never worry about what’s “appropriate” for YOUR BLOG! It’s YOUR WORLD, my lovely. And we are in it because we want to be! And we will continue to rally behind you and support you because we love you more than fashion. We just love YOU. Your voice. Your kindness. YOU.

    My husband has experienced a lot of loss as well, and has been absolutely tortured thinking of his own mortality, and wondering about his faith and an afterlife and more. I will tell you what I told him: stop worrying about death and just focus on living. One minute at a time. Accept that one day it is all over for every single one of us, but remember that that ending is a beginning. I feel and believe that with every fiber of my being. We will never have the answers to the questions we have about life and death in this life. Sucks, but it’s true. If you think you need to talk to someone about this, do. And if you need a friend, I’m here, as often as you need me.

    I’m glad you are trying not to dwell on this, trying to live every day to the fullest. Just today, Hubby and I had a cracker of a breakfast, then took a two-hour walk! 1.5 hours in, we were feeling tired. But the day was flawless and I said to him, “Who knows if we’ll even be here tomorrow,”…so this walk, this joy in this moment of this day, it’s exquisite and precious.

    Live and love, darling. Those are our only real objectives in this life.


  • Porcelain Complexion April 7, 2012, 6:40 AM

    Oh B, I am sorry to hear this.
    Life can be really tough sometimes and I know it’s incredibly cliche but it’s through the hard times that we grow and develop strength.
    The bottom line is that we all need to remember to be grateful and thankful for what we have here and now.

  • Madison April 6, 2012, 9:03 AM

    Dear B,
    There is no words really to express how I feel reading this. I am deeply sorry for your losses, it’s something that I have recently went through from a close friend to a family member, and I wish for you to have much needed peace during this time. You are definitly in my prayers. Thanks for sharing such a personal post. You’re not forgotten. xxoo Hugs.

  • Alexis Grace April 6, 2012, 1:16 AM

    Oh B, I am so sorry. I know. Those words don’t mean much, but they are true. I am sorry that you are being haunted by these fears and worse, by these experiences.

    I wish you peace….

  • Casee Marie April 5, 2012, 11:56 PM

    I’m so sorry for your recent losses, B, and for the sad circumstances with your uncle. I don’t quite know what else to say, except that I’ll be keeping you in my thoughts and prayers and I’m sending you as much love as can fill a world of oceans.

    I’m much like the earlier portion of your post, the one who has only felt loss in a distant way so far in life, and in that sense I can’t necessarily relate or offer any advice on losing close friends and family. But what I can relate to is worry, and the worry we can’t always justify or control. I know about denial, too, and trying to skirt around anxiety that will just bear down on you when given half a chance. It’s inevitable, to some degree, and I honestly think the only consolation is to understand that you are on a journey right now – personal, spiritual, internal – and with every moment you grow closer to a clearer perspective. I think eventually you’ll get to that place where you realize you still don’t have the answers, but you have the strength and spirit to look the unknown in the face. You have that every time you wake up in the morning, but eventually it takes a shape, as if it could walk beside you, and there’s a turning point, a transition in that. I’m confident you’ll find it. It comes with growing closer to yourself. You’ll realize that your self is the only thing in the world you’re connected to that could never possibly leave you, and all the people you love gave you a piece of their heart to keep in there. When they pass on, that’s where they’ll go, where they’ll always be and where they will have always been.

    When I’ve thought about losing the people I love I’ve always tried to think of it in the way that their spirits will be free to be closer to me, more constantly with me, than time and space and mortality ever allowed them to. But what it comes down to is the fact that they’re here with us now, in this moment, and we have absolutely no idea what the future will bring (sometimes there’s a freedom from worry in that – when it isn’t making us absolutely crazy). We have to cherish every moment we have and never take it for granted. They say when you do that, when you’re fully at that place, your contentment will overshadow any feelings of remorse or regret. It’s just a matter of reaching that point, and you’re getting there with every moment. You’re already closer to it now than you were when you first started reading this comment.

    If there’s anything I can do, I’m an e-mail or a tweet away, as ever. Good luck, B, and God bless! xoxo

  • Joanne Faith April 5, 2012, 11:46 PM

    Hi B, I really wanted to leave a comment to let you know I am thinking of you. I am also not sure why I felt like I needed a comment, but I guess it is my way of saying thank you for sharing this as it is not an easy thing to do.. xo

  • Jamillah April 5, 2012, 11:41 PM

    Oh B you are not alone, this is literally my greatest fear in life, even writing this I am tearing because the fear of that loss is so real to me, it IS a paralyzing fear that when I let myself think of it it just takes my breath away and leaves me with a sharp pain. But friend, it can not stop you in your tracks; your parents would only want you to be happy and live every moment and I know you can and will do that.

    I am so sorry for your losses this year, B. Some years are just much harder than others; I know for sure that 2010 was that year for me and I’m sure that there will be more years that will knock me to my knees and there will be other years that will lift me up. So know those times will come soon, dear B.

    I will pray for your uncle and your family, I know that this time is a challenge and if you need anything don’t ever hesitate to reach out. Love you B. I really hope to meet you one day so I can tell you in life how truly exceptional I think you are. Thank you for sharing something very personal and being so honest…and yes I have missed you.

  • MJ April 5, 2012, 6:56 PM

    I am so sorry for you loss and you are in my prayers B. Death is one of those things that can really put one’s life into perspective. And I can relate to the fear you have of losing your parents. I almost lost my dad to kidney failure when I was 15 years old. If he was an hour or so late to the emergency room he wouldn’t have made it. It happened shortly after I lost my Grandmother (Christmas) and my Grandfather (two months later) who was like a second father to me. My mother has problems with her heart, suffering a mini stroke two months before my wedding. If there’s anything I took from those two experiences is that I have to cherish the time I have with my parents and not let little, petty things come in the way of that time together.

    As always, we are here for you B. Don’t forget that. 🙂

  • Cameron April 5, 2012, 6:42 PM

    First of all, my heart goes out to you and your family.

    I, too, have experienced losing relatives I haven’t had much of a connection towards. My stepfather (whom I didn’t meet until his funeral) passed from a stroke on the job at 52. Two years later, his son (my stepbrother) left this mortal coil at 147 MPH in his father’s Mustang at the age of 19.

    And then, I lost one of my stepmothers last June, the one who took care of me when I had my wisdom teeth removed, and when I ended up in the ER due to kidney stones. She passed on at 47 after a long battle with prescription painkillers.

    I don’t know what’ll happen when my mother and father (both in their early 50s) walk into the light, but I know someone will be there for me when those days come.

    Just like we, the ones who have followed you here in the realm of fashion blogging, will be here for you when you need, or want, us.

    You can shutter your blog entirely, if you want, or you can take it into a new direction. Whatever you do, we will support you.

    Just don’t disappear entirely, B. We would miss you, and we love you too much for that. *big hugs*

    • Marissa April 11, 2012, 12:10 PM

      What timing. We had a scare with my dad this week, and while it seems like everything will be fine, it left me facing the mortality of my parents as well. I’m 28 and no where near ready to loose them, but how can you ever be ready? I’m an adult, I’m in a good place in my life… I will never be more ready than this. That’s what is so frightening to me. You think that as you mature, you need them less. I’ve come to realize that’s entirely untrue. I’m so sorry you’re dealing with all this. I know exactly what you mean about feeling paralyzed. Last night I broke down, but somehow today I’m pushing through. I know you’ll do the same. There’s really no other choice. But just know I’m thinking of you and sending you love. And, by the way, it’s okay to break down. You don’t always need to put on a brave face. You’ll come out on the other side eventually. xoxo