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

In Memory of Vicky – dmchale


I am finding it difficult to see what I am typing.  My dear friend Dennis McHale posted this beautiful poem as ‘n tribute to Vic.  I am touched that this talented man would take the time to do this.  Dennis has been such a great friend.  http://dlmchale.com/2013/05/02/in-memory-of-vicky/

Today has been such a mixed day.  I have been filled with the deepest sadness and sorrow and yet I have felt at peace that Vic’s suffering is over.  I miss her terribly.

I am feeling flu-ish and fell asleep on the sofa.  Jon-Daniel covered me with a blanket, and I woke when he gently kissed me on the forehead.  The way his mommy used too…

I want my child back!  It is too hard trying to live without her.

Dennis thank-you for your beautiful words.  Thank you for your love and support over the past year.  I am too teary to write so I shall post this beautiful poem for the world to read and enjoy.

I love you my Angel Child.  You have touched people all over the world.

In Memory of Vicky

by dmchale

Vicky

 

This poem is dedicated to my dear friend “tersiaburger”
In memory of her beloved daughter, Vicky.

——————————————————————-

You and I
are touched by one star.

Wherever you are
we stand together in one light
which no depth or height or distance
can ever dim.

Wherever you are
your light shines;
past time and space
past flesh to thought,
I feel your power.

Wherever you go
the day will dawn
and the star will appear;
for you are a child of this light
and it fosters your heavenly dreams.

In this light, I have found ways
to heal, to bind up,
to tear down the feeble structures
of fear of your absence has
carelessly constructed within me.

You and I
are touched by one star.

In its glowing embrace
we find our true selves;
we find our peace.

Today I may stand alone,

missing you with all my heart
be I stand strong.
Through the corridors of our courage
you have helped me to
discover those eternal lines
of love within myself;
my birthright discovered because

Vicky and I are
touched by one star.

 


My Angel Child

My Angel Child

So many of my cyber friends have lost their children…these women and men have supported and guided me on my journey with Vic and held my hand in the early days of my grieving and heartache… They KNOW my pain.  I found this poem on a bereavement site and would like to share (and dedicate) it to all the angel moms and dads out there.  Thank you for your support, advice, encouragement and love.
 
My other cyber friends have done their best to understand and love – thank you all.  I appreciate your compassion and continued support.  I pray that you will never experience this pain.  I pray that you will never become Angel Parents…

Angel Moms

We have shared our tears and our sorrow,
We have given encouragement to each other,
Given hope for a brighter tomorrow,
We share the title of grieving mother.

Some of us lost older daughters or sons,
Who we watched grow over the years,
Some have lost their babies before their lives begun,
But no matter the age, we cry the same tears.

We understand each others pain,
The bond we share is very strong,
With each other there is no need to explain,
The path we walk is hard and long.

Our children brought us together,
They didn’t want us on this journey alone,
They knew we needed each other,
To survive the pain of them being gone.

So take my hand my friend,
We may stumble and fall along the way,
But we’ll get up and try again,
Because together we can make it day by day.

We can give each other hope,
We’ll create a place where we belong,
Together we will find ways to cope,
Because we are Angel Moms and together we are strong!

Judi Walker

http://www.muchloved.com/gateway/bereavement-poems-and-funeral-readings.htm

now and forever


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Today at times I felt as if I was suffocating.  It felt as if the grief had grabbed me by the throat and was strangling life out of me.  My heart physically ached.

In the infamous words of Queen Elizabeth 11 “Grief is the price we pay for love.”

Vic was an only child.  I spent the first 16 years of her life dedicated to Vic and only Vic.  Vic’s dad and I separated early in our marriage.  Even in the years that we were married he studied part-time and only got home from University after 10 at night.  Weekends – well that was busy…

When Vic was 16 I married Danie.  He became her dad and she embraced the fact that she now had siblings.  Danie loved Vic with the same pure unconditional love that she had for her boys.  Vic admired, respected and loved Danie for the wonderful dad that he was to her.

Tonight I cannot help but think and remember all the love and nurturing that went into Vic’s life, caring for her, raising her, nursing her when she was sick and taking her to the doctors, teaching her all the things she needed to know to keep her safe in this crazy world, teaching her the art of shopping, watching her get married, fall pregnant – twice, survive 81 abdominal surgeries, fighting for her life every single day.  I loved the mother that Vic was.  Caring and nurturing.

Tonight I remember Vic’s trademark – getting dressed in clothes every day before the boys came home from school, waking up to see them off to school every morning, arranging a party if she had one ounce of strength left!  Vic appreciated seeing the light of day, getting out of bed, seeing the faces of her children.  Every day she breathed was a day that mattered to her.  Every day she used to make memories with her sons, family and friends.

Every day was one more than she had the day before.

She loved driving her little car.  (Vic was a terrible driver!).  Vic was the take-out queen.  She LOVED take-outs!  The last meal she ate was a bit of a Steers hamburger….

Vic was a good, honest, compassionate, caring person who loved loyally and deeply!  She was strong-willed and fought for what she wanted.  She did not tolerate disloyalty in any form.

Vic toured Egypt in a wheelchair and with a cane!  Her biggest wish was to attend Jon-Daniel’s honours evening (4 days before she died) and to travel to Italy.

Vic was brave!  She NEVER complained.  She accepted that pain was part of her life; that being ill was her life.  She seldom questioned the cards she was dealt.  She accepted her life stoically.

I KNOW how hard it was for Vic to get out of bed.  I know how easy it would have been for her to curl up and die very early in her life.  She held on to life until the bitter end because giving up was not an option!

I thought I was well prepared for this period in my life.  I prayed so long that God would release her tortured little body from the hell she lived every day.  I spent years waiting and wondering how it will be.  I have been told that I, of all people, should have been prepared for her death. After all I lived with my child’s terminal diagnosis for 10 years.

The short and the tall of the matter is that there is no way to be prepared.  Researching the stages of death, the grieving process and even preparing her memorial service’s PowerPoint Presentation, in anticipation, could not prepare me for the pain that struck the second that my child died.. 

When I heard Vic’s breathing change I knew she was going.  I knew that within minutes my child would be dead…  Yet in the end, her death was still a terrible shock to me.  How did it happen so quickly?

How do I go on?

Just as there are only some people we can really talk to about our children while they are alive, it seems that there are only a few people we can talk to about them once they have died.

When you lose a child you lose so much more that you may have been prepared to lose.  I have lost my identity as a mom.  I am no longer a Mommy.   I may be a back-up mom to four wonderful young people who love me dearly, unconditionally and deeply but I am no longer a “real Mommy”.  Mother’s Day will come and go…The four kids will celebrate the women who gave birth to them.  The boys will not have a mom to buy a gift for and I will not have a child to wish me.  I do know everyone will try very hard to make it easier for me.  But Vic will not be here to wish me a happy Mother’s Day.

I have a hole in my heart.   My heart physically aches.  I want to die.

Tonight, 21 days after my baby girl’s death I remember a love and bond that was beyond description.  I will continue to breathe; I will honour my promises to my child; I will bring up her beautiful boys; I will cherish her memories; I will grieve for my child.  She was worthy of my love – she is worthy of my tears.

Sweetie I love you now and forever.

 

I miss you Angle Child!


Vic and her boys...

Vic and her boys…

Today I attended my first serious business meeting in almost three months.  I have really neglected my business.  Fortunately there was the Christmas recess, so it was not too bad.  The series of very important meetings scheduled for the week of the 13th of January was pushed back to the first week in February once I realized that Vic was dying.

I dreaded seeing my (all male) colleagues today.  I have known some of them for 25 years and they all knew of Vic’s precarious health.

I sat in my car outside the building and took deep breaths.  These guys have never known me to show emotion.  I have been stoic throughout Vic’s illness, many operations and setbacks.  I was petrified that I would not be able to contain my grief!

Lots of hugs and pats on the back dispersed with the sympathies…a hushed silence followed me into the boardroom.  With a couple of minutes to spare before the start of the meeting the guys decided to go smoke. 

“It must be a relief for you to not have the responsibility of a sick child any more…” the one said through a cloud of smoke…..

“Yes” said another.  “It has been many years”….

I did not have to dignify the insensitive remarks with a response as one of the female directors came out and hugged me.  “I have no words for you” she said.

We went into the board room and took our seats.  Being our first meeting of the year the normal New Year pleasantries was exchanged.   I coped beautifully.

The meeting began and as soon as I started speaking I could hear a quiver in my voice!  I was mortified!  I shut up as quickly as possible and spent a couple of minutes trying to compose myself without drawing any attention to myself.  Breathe in through my abdomen …exhale!  Breathe in – exhale… My hands were shaking so I clutched my pen tightly!  I put my hands on the boardroom table to steady them.

For years I have NEVER switched off my cell phone in case Vic needed me.  If I was away from home (or even when I was home) I would fall asleep in with my phone in my hand.  24/7 my phone was on.

In a way it was liberating switching my phone off when the meeting started.

When I got home this afternoon I sat reading through my old BBM messages from Vic.

“Vomiting again”

 “Can I phone you Mommy?”

 “Mommy may I have morphine?  I am so sore!”

 “Still vomiting”

 “When will you be home Mommy?”

Tonight the boys went to their dad for dinner.  Danie and I popped in at a friend whose daughter-in-law was paralysed in a motorbike accident on the 8th of December.  Her three beautiful granddaughters seem a little bewildered.  Their mommy is in rehab and their daddy is staying with her 24/7.  My friend became a substitute mommy for the girls.  I have become a substitute mom to the boys again.

It was strange going to dinner – just the two of us.

Last night I covered schoolbooks… tomorrow morning I will take Jon-Daniel to the orthodontist to have his braces removed.  Vic desperately wanted to live for the “event”.  I hope she will be there in spirit.  Tomorrow afternoon Jared and I will go and make an appointment for our motorbike learner licenses!

I am battling to contain my grief.  I am trying to find the time to research “teenage grief”.  How do we know how to treat grieving teenage boys?  What if we make mistakes?  What if we fail Vic and her boys?  I fear I am not spending enough time with the boys.

Life is a mess.

I miss you angel child!

 

Rest in Peace My Angle Child 22.1.2013


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Where do I start?  How do I begin a farewell when I still can’t believe you’re gone?  How do I say goodbye to a part of my soul?

The day you were born I experienced this UNBELIEVABLE rush of love.  I was smitten from the first second I lay eyes on you.

You came into my life and changed me forever.  Over the years people have complimented me for being a good mother but I truly cannot take credit for that.  You were born good, and great and amazing.  You were the one who taught me lessons in life.  I believe you are an angel God sent to teach me.

You taught me love.  You taught me honesty.  You taught me to love unconditionally.  You taught me how to forgive and how to be strong.  You are the strongest person I have ever known.  You gave me strength when I was weak.  When times were sad and tough you reminded me to be grateful for the small things in life.  You taught me how to be myself.  Most of all you taught me about life and how to live.

When you were diagnosed with Osteogenesis Imperfecta at the age of 18 months and the doctors told me I should wrap you in cotton wool and wait for you to die you taught me it was more important to feel and grow like any other child than to have me hide you under my wing.   It was so important to you to live.  And that you did.  You gave birth to not one beautiful baby but two!  You mothered the boys the way you lived life – with a passion.

You are the bravest person in the world.  You rewrote medical history.  You defied death for so many years… You mocked bad news and a poor prognosis…

 

You made me so proud.  You have always been my greatest pride and joy.  At school you excelled as a pianist.  As a mommy you were an example to all.  As a dying person you were brave beyond words.

I’m not sure how I can live this life without you.  You worried about me just as much as I worried about you.  You told everyone how worried you were that I would not cope without you.  You fought so hard to stay alive.  You fought until you gave your very last breath.  You did not want to leave your boys.  You lived for your boys.

You often said you were scared people would forget you…

No-one will ever forget you.  You made an incredible impact on the world.  You left two monuments of your love and mothering skills.  Your sons will honour you every day of their lives with their actions.

Your dream of a Hospice for Alberton has been realised in Stepping Stone. Thousands of people will benefit from your dream and compassion in years to come.  It is ironic that you were Stepping Stone’s first death…

Two weeks before your passing you  started seeing angels.  You saw Gramps, Uncle Dries, your father and Auntie Marlene.  Then a week before your passing you said “My whole room is full of angels”  You fought to stay alive every single day of your life.  Eleven months ago you called a family meeting and told us that you had decided enough is enough.  No more surgeries.  No more hospitals.

Over the past 11 months you made your final wishes known.  You planned your memorial service.  You spoke to the boys about what was important.  I personally got a long list of do’s and don’t’s.

Just before Christmas you said you were worried about me. That you could see I thought you would bounce back again…You said you were dying…You could feel the changes in your body.  But like 95% of the people in this church today I honestly though you would bounce back and defy death once again!

The day you were born you filled my entire life.  You were always my first and last thought.  I feel numb and as if I am in a bubble.  You will be happy to know that we have been surrounded by love and support.  But it still feels as if the world should have stopped because you left it.

Vic, I miss you so much already and I don’t know if I can take this pain anymore.  But then I think, how can I be sad when I know you’re in a better place?  How can I be sad when you brought me so much happiness?   How can I be sad when God is already working miracles through you?  How can I be sad when I feel like the luckiest person on earth to have been chosen to be your mother?  How can I be sad when God gave you to me for 14,019 days, 20 hours and 15 minutes?  I thank God every day for the time we shared together.

Baby I promise you today we will be the support system for the boys you wanted.  We love them so much.  No-one in the world can ever take your place.  We promise we will keep your memories alive.  We will honour our promises to you.

So now we must bid you farewell.  It is your time to run, free from pain and suffering.  We will always love you.  We will never forget you.

Rest in Peace my Angel Child.