Time to say goodbye


Time to say Goodbye is a beautiful song and I especially enjoy the André Bochelli and Sarah Brightman version. It was the boys and my theme song on this holiday. A Time to Say Goodbye and heal….

As we toured Europe we lived Vic’s dream. It was her dream to go to Italy, stand in the Cistern Chapel, drink cuppachino’s on the streets of Rome, wander through the Christmas Mart stalls savouring the smell of Gluhwein and melted cheese….

I am filled with profound sadness every time I think of my child. Even if she lived Vic would never have been able to make the trip. The flight would have been too long, the cobblestone streets impossible for her wheelchair, the bus trips too long…

I cried when I saw the Pietà in the Cistern Chapel. This beautiful piece of art in a convoluted way symbolised Vic and my lives…

Both Mary and I were child brides. She was much younger than I was when she gave birth to Jesus – it is written that Mary was 12 years old at the time of her Son’s birth. Her child filled with wisdom and teaching as was mine… I once again realised, on this trip, how infinitely wise Vic was. She knew that I would have to remove myself from everyday life to heal.

She made me promise to do this trip with the boys.

Looking at the Pietà I saw a mother holding the body of her lifeless child. Tears filled my soul when I remembered holding the body of my lifeless child. For a fleeting moment I felt the heat that radiated from her fever wracked little body. I could hear the thundering silence from her breathing that had stopped…

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I saw the lonely sadness of a mother isolated from the world in her grief. I recognised that isolation that I experienced at the second of Vicky’s death.

I stood there and realised that it will never change. I will always be isolated in my grief and longing for the child that I lived for. No one in the world could possibly love her the way I did. She was blood of my blood.

She loved her boys the way I loved her. She loved her boys with every fibre in her body. Her thoughts, fears and sorrow centred on her sons until she breathed her last breath. The blood of her blood. Her future…

Standing in front of the Pietà I realised that the closest bond is the bond between a mother and a child. Not a child and a mother…. Children move on and live for their children

Walking the streets of Europe I was filled with an all-consuming anger. Anger at God, anger at careless doctors; angry at a horrific disease called Osteogenesis Imperfecta. I was angry at the fact that my child was robbed. Robbed of a life with her boys. That I was robbed of a lifetime with my child.

As the old Year is edging towards the New I am filled with trepidation and horrific sadness. Not only for my Vic but for the many who crossed my path this year and who are enfolded in their own grief.

So much pain, longing and sadness as we look to starting another year without our loved ones.

I have survived my birthday, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day and Jared’s birthday. I have cried on my own, in the shower, in shops. I have been filled with rage and despair when I saw all the Christmas cards “For my Daughter”… I will never buy another card for my precious child. I will never be able to open gifts with her under the Christmas tree. Nothing will ever be the same again.

In three weeks’ time it will be Vic’s 2 year anniversary. Two long years without my child, my best friend…

I read that it gets worse as time goes by. It does get worse. The raw sadness has dissolved into a steady all-consuming pain. The longing to hold her one more time overwhelming.

And, although I know that it is Time to Say Goodbye I know I will never move on.

486 days…


486 days; 1 year, 4 months; 69 weeks….

Oh dear God, will this pain never stop? Will my heart ever heal? Will I ever be able to look at a photograph without tears welling up in my eyes? No matter where I am or who I am with – I miss my precious Angel Child.

I know your pain is over. Remember the night you crawled into bed with me and I told you that I looked forward to your pain being over? Did you know that night how many tears I would shed for you? Did you know that my life would change forever?

Yes, I know you did. Your words echo through my mind…”Mommy, I am so worried about you. How will you cope when I am gone?”

My stock standard reply was “I will cope baby. I will remember your pain and be glad that it is over”. How stupid of me.

As time goes by I forget how sick you were my precious little one.

Then I look through my photos. I see your pain. I see death in your beautiful eyes.

You knew how hard it would be. In your infinite wisdom you tried to prepare me. You tried to prepare the boys… Sweetie, nobody or nothing in the world could have prepared me for the pain, the loneliness, the void…

Sometimes I wonder how many days it will be until we meet again. I pray it is soon. This is just too hard.

One year today


My precious child

Somehow 31,536,000 seconds or even 525,600 minutes makes far more sense than 8760 hours; 365 days; 52 weeks and one day or 1 year…

If feels as if a lifetime of sorrow has passed since you stopped breathing.  If feels as if it has been a lifetime since I held you in my arms.  It feels as if I have cried an ocean of tears.

In the past year I have aged.  I have gained weight. I have existed. A year ago my life ended.  The boys and I still burn candles for you.

I am still filled with rage.  I know you were born with Osteogenesis Imperfecta but doctor arrogance caused you so much pain, suffering and indignity.  I know that you would more than likely have died before me but perhaps with less suffering?

I will always miss you.  I will always remember your smile, your laugh, your bravery. I will never forget how you fought to live.

Today I want to thank you for my beautiful grandsons.  Thank you for remaining my little girl through-out your life.  Thank you for fighting for so long.  You were such a warrior!

I thank God that you came home to die.  I thank God that I had the privilege of caring for you.  I thank God that He entrusted me with something as pure and precious as you.

I am grateful that you are no longer fracturing vertebrae from vomiting.  As much as I miss your laugh I do not miss your pain filled tears.  I am grateful precious baby that your suffering is over.

I miss your company.  I miss our late night chats, drinking untold cups of tea/coffee.  I miss your text messages, your telephone calls, your shuffling footsteps down the passage…  the smell of smoke alerting me that you are awake and sitting on your step…

I miss the boys laughter.  I miss the joy that you brought into our lives.

We will continue to honour your memory – every day of our lives.  Your legacy will live on in each and every person that is allowed to live until they die with dignity.

I love you Angel Child with every fiber in my body.

Your Silent Dreams by April D. Parker
I held you as you were sleeping…
All the while I sat weeping….
Gazing at your beautiful features…
For you were one of God’s Creatures…

I loved you from the minute you existed to be…
Living inside me, Dreaming silently…
You were always a part of my life…
Even before you saw day-light…

Looking down at you, I kissed your warm little hand…
Knowing you had passed on to the Promised Land…
You, my sweet baby, are forever my Child…
The fact you were in my life makes it worth while…

Undeniably I have hope…
The thought of seeing you again allows my spirit to lift…
I thank God to have had what time I had with you…
Love and cherish you I shall always do…

look and don't touch_edited vicbaby Vic 5 years old100_7453 (2)Image (184) Image (191) Image (193) Image (214) Image (220)

A Few After….. Revised


look and don't touch_editedA few minutes after her birth…..

I could hear her announcing scream.

I couldn’t believe she was finally here,

The realization of my dream.

A few hours after her birth…..

I held her so close to my chest.

Somehow that little girl let me see,

A special love that never left.25a

A few days after her birth…..

I held her tiny little hand.

I told her there would be lots of things

That I would help her to understand.

A few weeks after her birth…..

She had that sparkle in her eyes,

And when she showed me that little smile,

I thought that I would surely die.

A few months after her birth…..

She was just beginning to learn.

She didn’t like me to go away,

And she cried until I returned.

A few years after her birth……

I still couldn’t believe she was mine.

We talked and laughed and went for walks.

We had so many special times..

A few after…..

A few minutes after her death…..

I didn’t know I needed to scream.

I thought that she was still safe and here…

I didn’t know the truth of my dream.

A few hours after her death…..

I felt a strangeness within my chest.

Something was wrong that I couldn’t see.

God! I didn’t know that she had left.

A few days after her death…..

I held her cold and lifeless hand.

There were just so very many things

That I could not fully understand.

A few weeks after her death…..

That sparkle stolen from my eyes,

No longer to see her beautiful smile.

I never, ever thought that she would die.

A few months after her death…..

There was so much I needed to learn.

I was confused when she went away,

And I still waited for her return.

A year after her death…..

I still wish that she could be mine,

To talk and laugh and go for walks.

I miss those special moments in time.

A few after…..

A few minutes after MY death……

Once again I will hear her scream,

“Hey Mommy, it’s me, I’m over here,

And Mommy, this time it’s not a dream.”

A few hours after MY death…….

I’ll hold her close again to my chest.

She’ll look at me and say… “Now see?”

It doesn’t seem so long since I left.”

A few days after MY death…..

She will gently take me by the hand,

And show me all the glorious things,

And help me to understand.

A few weeks after MY death…..

I’ll see that sparkle in her eyes.

Once again she’ll warm me with her smile,

And say… “You see, Mommy, I didn’t die”.

A few months after MY death…….

Together we’ll have so much to learn.

We’ll never have to go away,

Or long for each other’s return.

A few years after MY death…..

Forever she will always be mine.

We’ll talk and laugh and go for long walks,

Because we’ll have nothing…… but time.

~ by Christine Ross in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 – 2001 © 2003 – Christine Ross revised 2007

My empty heart


Look into my empty heart
Look into my empty arms
See into my haunted eyes
Do you see my sorrow
When it began its start

A horrific dream has emptied me
A beautiful flower has fallen down
Petals like blood stains upon the ground
My heart fell down for the beauty lost

If you touch my heart touch with love
Not with sorrow my friend
I have enough of my own
For my child gone above

Written by a dear WP friend, Len Carver http://amotherssorrow.wordpress.com/2014/01/16/february-19-2013/.  Her precious daughter “KLYSTA LaNELL  BRESHEARS, AUGUST 20, 1969 ~ FEBRUARY 19, 2011, was MURDERED BY THE ONE CLAIMING TO LOVE HER
HE DID …HE LOVED HER TO DEATH… JUSTICE HAS NOT BEEN SERVED.”

I HAVE LEARNED …

I’ve learned I am stronger than I ever imagined I could be
I’ve learned I am weaker than I ever imagined I could be
I’ve learned to live each day since the loss of you

I’ve learned that when my world is spinning out of control
To lean into the curves so as not to fall to the ground
I’ve learned to live each day since the loss of you

I’ve learned that even when there is so much pain
I have to hold it all together I cannot go insane
I’ve learned to live each day since the loss of you

I’ve learned through all the tears I have cried
That crying does not ease the pain tho I have tried
I’ve learned to live each day since the loss of you

I’ve learned that framed pictures are not the same
Memories are allright, rather hear you call my name
I’ve learned to live each day since the loss of you

I’ve learned that no one understands my grief
Except another mother with a cemetery wreath
I’ve learned to live each day since the loss of you

I’ve learned a life can be taken with the blink of an eye
And only God knows the when, where and why
We didn’t get to say I love you and good-bye

I’ve learned to live each day since the loss of you

NUMBERS


Len Carver is a dear WordPress friend who beautifully and accurately articulates my emotions and life in this post… She is however writing about her own pain filled life after losing her precious Klysta.

I tried to read this to someone this morning and was met with a barrage of “it is your choice not to get on with your life…”  All I wanted to demonstrate is that I am not the only person in the world battling to cope with the death of a child.  A mothers grief is intense and scary.

So today I wish to say to the world – If you have never lost a child you will NEVER understand.  You can and will NEVER have compassion.  If you have never experienced an emotion – how can you understand it?

Losing a child is a pain that no parent should ever experience.  It is an emptiness that you cannot understand from the outside.

I get so angry with fake people.  Don’t pretend you care.  Don’t pretend to understand.  Leave me be with my grief.  Live your life – I will live mine.

It is MY CHILD who died.  I am the childless one.  Carry on with your happy life.

Reading this I recognise my anger.  I am angry.  I am angry that I have to send up lanterns for my dead child, and you get to hold yours. I am angry for the sadness in my grandsons eyes.  I am angry that your lack of understanding deprives me the privilege of GRIEVING for my child.  I am so tired of having to put up a HAPPY face.

I am not happy.  I am terribly sad.  Get used to the idea.  It will never change unless you can bring back my child…. So, I will grieve for my child in 2014.  I will grieve for her until the second I die.

Respect my love for my child enough to allow this.  Thank you Len for your beautiful post.

Happy New Year all…

Lanterns to heaven
Lanterns to heaven

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A MOTHERS' SORROW

Our life is full of numbers, our birth date, the birthdays that follow, school days, wedding day, then anniversaries or divorce dates, children’ birthdays, graduations, marriages, grandchildren, and all the numbered days in between, even our days on earth are numbered.
Today marks two years, ten months and ten days since my daughters death, February 19, 2011. I don’t know whether to count from that day as the day my heart broke or if it is broken further everyday since that horrid phone call, or is it the day my sanity was lost.
Today Dec. 29, 2013 I am so freaking angry, sad and lonely. I want to curse and drink and act out to relieve the anger, the anger at losing Klysta, anger that my life changed so dramatically that day. Nothing and I mean nothing in my life has been right since.
I am tumbling, spiraling into depression…

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