About
On August 10th, 2012, I lost my mother. Even though she’d been battling cancer for nearly two years, her loss was sudden and unexpected. This blog is what it is. It’s just something I’m doing, because I have to keep on doing.
I am a second generation atheist, which means that I never rejected any belief system. I simply never embraced one. My mom rejected hers, so if you have a problem with that, please take it up with her.
I am going to try hard not to over-think my posts. They will be raw and largely unedited. I expect that some will be angry and many will be sad. This does not mean that I am always angry and/or sad. It’s just how I felt at that moment in front of the keyboard.
Please feel free to say hi. Grief is isolating.
GrievingAtheist@gmail.com
The Grieving Atheist 
I read your entire blog and there is so much that resonates. My Mom died in November. My worldview is similar to yours in many ways and it was a comfort to read what I have been feeling these last few months. You’re right, grief is isolating even on the vast internets, I’m glad I came across your blog. Thanks.
Hi there,
My mom died on January 4th, 2013 from a heart attack, a complication of the chemo she had started two weeks ago for acute leukemia. Your blog is very comforting. Just seeing that there are other people who have been through the same and survived, without any belief in afterlives, gods, jesuses and similar fairytales, can be very helpful. Thank you!
Hi. I just came across your blog after doing a google search. I just want to say thank you. I’ve just lost the love of my life in a car accident, and I feel like my whole world is strange and cold. I’m not one to cry, or depend heavily on others, so I am struggling quite a bit. Especially as a non believer, It hurts a lot to hear people say “God has a plan”, or “He’s in a better place now.” Or the worst I’ve heard yet “it wasn’t meant to be”. He loved me with all his heart, and I loved him. I keep looking up images of beautiful landscapes because I need to see the beauty in the world because right now everything feels dark and alien. Looking at serene lakes and quiet mountaintops, I think that there are other people like him out there. The ones who shine so brightly and make the darkness feel less scary. I know that this world has value because of them. That makes me happy. Thank you for sharing your experiences. Thank you.
Thank you for visiting. I appreciate a good landscape these days, am inspired by the timeless beauty and comforted by the relative permanence of peaks and valleys. Being near people just makes me feel lonely, which does seem counter-intuitive. When I immerse myself in nature, my own situation seems less unjust. They say people like us don’t want to believe in anything greater than ourselves. Nonsense. We see things as they are, and they are great and powerful and have a natural logic to them. That we can see our place in all of that is a good thing. I feel superior to nothing. I am surrounded by greatness. Looking at a mountain, I can see that. Looking at the shelves in a grocery store, not so much. I’m so sorry for your loss.
I am the founder of the secular grief support network, Grief Beyond Belief. We have posted links to a number of your blog entries to our membership. The insight of your thinking and the quality of your writing are just stunning. I would like to be in direct communication with you; will you email me at griefbeyondbelief@gmail.com?
Thank you. I learned about this page from Grief Beyond Belief. I now have you in my favorites.
Your blog is truly amazing. I wish I had the time to explain my background and how I identify with your situation. But for now I must leave at this- how can I quote you (just a line or two) online and provide proper credit?
Thanks 🙂
Why thank you! 🙂 I suppose you can just mention the name of my blog, if you feel compelled.
~Laura
Lovely blog. As a fellow blogger writing about godless grief, I know all too well how difficult it is to pour yourself into these posts.
Also, it’s also neat to find a (relatively rare) 2nd generation atheist. Well really my parents were deists, just very agnostic about it, so like you I never had any religious upbringing to reject. It’s interesting because I think we bring a very unique perspective to atheism and, yes, even grief.
Hang in there. You are certainly not alone. ❤
I just found this blog and I’m eager to begin reading. I just lost my dad 2 months ago in a fatal car accident. I, along with my mom, husband, 6 year old and 20 month old saw him nearly daily. We are atheist and it’s been tough.
i have been reading your blog. I searched today, grief and sex, and came up with your site. It made me feel ok. I lost my husband 10 months ago. 6 month terminal illness. I haven’t been so horny since the beginning of us. so weird. but nice to know that there are others out there experiencing the confusion too.
I was scrolling through Facebook and noticed a blog post about “I wonder if you’d be proud of me if you were alive.” I started reading it and then it went the way so many of them do, god, Jesus and prayer. So I decided to see if I could find someone grieving, who believed (or doesn’t believe) like I do.
I just started reading your posts and I will have to come back for the rest.
I lost my mom in 2006 when I was 19, she was a devout Catholic, but cancer took her (in 5 months) anyway. I was already a child of doubt, but this settled it. I was angry for so long at this god I didn’t believe in, because she believed. One day, for the briefest of moments, I had peace. I realized I couldn’t blame anyone for her actual death. Not god, because there isn’t one, and not even her incompetent doctor who told her to take her time deciding on treatments…because I learned later that her type of cancer, at that time, was basically a death sentence.
I wish I could say that I managed to keep that peace, but I still try to return to that moment of weightlessness.
I miss my mom so much. I try to control my bitterness towards people who get to be grown ups with their moms, get to have that “best friend” time. I was a teenager when she died, we were together all of the time, but I was a shit… Even though it has been 12 and a half years, there are days that it’s like brand new. I put on a playlist of songs that have always brought on the tears, and I sing “to her” and I let myself cry.
I know what you mean about the freshness of grief. No matter what the calendar says, sometimes my heart still thinks it was yesterday. I’m sorry for your loss.
Thank you, and I am sorry for yours as well.
I also want to apologize, I didn’t mean to write such a long rambling post. I appreciate you taking the time to read it.
You didn’t ramble at all. My whole blog is a ramble! Feel free to share as much as you want, whenever you want.