How long do people grieve for?

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I have a difficult time wrapping my head around the fact that after a fun and exciting Weekend, celebrating my Sister's Wedding and Gift Opening, that I've actually broke down in tears and I was actually crying about the demise of my Routemasters. I was actually suprized. When I went upstairs to join my parents and relatives, my Dad joked that I was doing better than everybody else in the guest room. I've told my Dad that I've just gotten over some disturbing News that I've read, in December. I was told that it was about time. If I would have told them what that disturbing news was, I would have been admitted back into the Mental Health System. I can't believe that after my Sister's Wedding and Gift Opening, that I've still managed to shed some Tears over my Red Beauties, and as soon as my Dad and Uncle came down to watch the Football Game, I've stopped weeping in an instant. There's a quote that a woman came up with, in the 19th Century.

"If you can remember me with Happyness, than remember me always.
If you can only remember me with Tears, than don't remember me, at all."

Should I do that with London's famous Routemasters?

I also have another question. Would I be better living on my own, so I could have my little 20 Second Cry in peace, around the 9th of every month? I hate it when people have scarcastic tones in their voices, when they ask what I'm crying about, and than I have to make up a fake answer that would be acceptable THEM.

What is the average number of years that a Typical person grieves for?

Typically people might grieve for two years in a way that disrupts their everyday life - for the loss of an immediate family member - your brother, sister, mother, father or live-in grandparent.

But the actual period lasts different times for different people and when you've lost something you really care about - you will always be upset when you think about the loss. Well at least that's how it works for me.

For some people and things in my life - if they lived to a ripe old age and were happy to the end pretty much - I don't feel so sad they're gone. But if they were lost before they were ready to go, I do take it much harder.

With London suffering from far too much traffic and gridlock (Ben Elton wrote a book "Gridlock"), I can't understand why they'd want to get rid of the routemasters. I could understand why they'd want to re-design them to be more fuel efficient or run on batteries and solar power (hmm maybe tidal power in London) but not why they'd get rid of them altogether and if I cared more about routemasters like you do - I'd be upset forever.

Hopefully - like the steam trains - there will be some fans who want to keep the memory alive.

And I don't believe the FUD about bombs for a second.
(FUD = Fear Uncertainty and Doubt - a method for governments and terrorists to control the majority of the population).

Cockney

I can't say that I understand your pain, but I recognize its depth and its reality.

Humor can be a great source of strength, endurance and healing. I think that you're strong, brave, and resourceful enough to use it. Look within, and at the difference between what's within and what's outside.

Nothing is off limits. It's your life and your pain, and you are allowed to deal with it anyway you choose.

My best to you.

There's a story from Asia:

A woman had a baby she loved more than anything, then one day the baby died. Her grief was so overpowering she lost her mind. Carrying the dead baby, she ran from house to house, crying, "Give me medicine for my baby." Nobody had any idea how to help her.

She reached the end of the village and ran off into the woods, eventually she came to the place where Buddha and some followers were camped. She ran up to Buddha, "Give me medicine for my baby."

Buddha told her: "I can give you the medicine you need, but you have to bring me one thing to make it with."

"What's that?" she asked.

"One grain of rice," said Buddha.

"That's easy," she said, "I can get that anywhere." and she turned to go.

"Just one thing," said Buddha, "It must come from a household that has never suffered the pain of losing someone they loved."

She ran into the village and stopped at the first house. "Has anyone in your family died?" she asked.

"My father died last year," they told her, "I still miss him so much."

And at the next house, "My son was killed in the war. He was only sixteen."

And the next house, "My grandmother died a few weeks ago, she was with me every day since I was a baby. I remember the songs she sang."

At every house they told her the same thing, and she understood.

This seems to be Small Potatoes, compared to what a lot of other Members are going through. I didn't mean to bother everybody with my silly little problem.

Me Old China,

Cockney

Bazza got it right this time, even if he thinks christmas is a summer holiday.

Emotions don't have to make sense. If it breaks your heart, your heart is broken. Your life is as real as anybody elses. My best wishes are with you in this time of sorrow.

Well, maybe it is a little bit weird.

You people are so confused you think cowboys wear armor.

You just watch yourself. We know what your cowboys get up to in the mountains.

anyway, we call them drovers or stockmen - lol