Tag: Angel Garden

I am waiting for a sign


I came to Chaka’s Rock with the intention of scattering some of Vic’s ashes here. The rest we would bury in her Angel Garden at home.

When we arrived we went shopping and came back with beautiful flowers. Vic’s photo and ashes are in the dining room that has a beautiful view of the ocean. Her flowers next to her…

Somehow I have just not been able to make my way down to the beach with Vic’s ashes. I know that I will receive a sign from her that this is what she wants… When a white feather finds me I will know it is the right time and place.

Vic and I often spoke about what to do with her ashes.

“Mommy, you can decide what to do with my ashes…”

“What would you want me to do with your ashes Angel?” I would ask

“You can decide Mommy. You can put me in the Wall of Remembrance with my Father if you want?” Vic would reply

“Maybe we will just make a memorial garden for you and keep you with us…” I would say

“Oh, that would be good Mommy!” Vic would say “That is what I would do for you…”

I am waiting to see if a white feather finds me…

Never Alone


This was my song for Vic.  I played it for her all the time.  We spoke about the words and the meaning of the words.

Today it is 21 weeks since I have been able to touch my child, hold her, brush her hair.  I know that she is around me, but I feel so alone without her.  Vic was my dearest friend, my companion, my daughter, my soul mate.

Yes, Vic is in my heart.  Not a minute goes by that I don’t think of her, miss her…. But I really want her to be with me.  When will this pain end?  When will I come to terms with the fact that I am alone now.

Yes, I know I am surrounded by people who love me…I know they are worried about me… But nobody can fill the void that Vic’s death has left.

I feel alone even when I am surrounded by lots of people, family….

Nothing in the world could have prepared me for this thing called “grief”.  This devastating sorrow.

This weekend I will work in the garden and start preparing Vic’s Angel Garden.  I don’t want my child in a friggin garden – I want her in my home.  I want her sneaking up behind me and kissing me on the cheek.  I want to hear her voice saying “I love you Mommy”.  I want to tell her how much I love her.

I want to hear her talking to her boys.  Telling them she loves them the “mostest in the world”; reminding them to brush their teeth

I don’t want to feel this sorrow and pain.  I want to be happy again.