Category: Journey

Sometimes

A Katie Helms

Sometimes I act like it’s ok…
Like I’m cool with it…
As though I understand…
As if I’ve made sense of it all….
You being gone…
So far…
and So Long…
But I’m not really strong…
I don’t stand so tall…
I don’t comprehend…
My mind doesn’t rest…
I’m not passing this test…
I miss you so much…
I’d just like to touch…
And hold you again…
my child, my love, my hopes and my dreams…
my future, my past, till I see you at last…
I will keep myself busy…
And try not to think…
I will try to help others…
I will try not to sink…
I will pray and ask Jesus
For comfort Again…
For Peace in my heart…
For my brokenness
To mend…
and Then…
Tomorrow…
I will miss you some more…
and Jesus knows…
Yes, He knows…
That…
Sometimes I act like it’s ok…
Like I’m cool with it…
As though I understand…
As if I’ve made sense of it all….
You being gone…
So far…
and So Long…

Butterfly Shadows

Mildred J. Foshie

(grandmother to MacKenzie)

Today I go hunting for butterfly shadows
And I don’t need a tank or a gun
There’ll be no need for fear
For the master is near
As I set out to search for the son.

I may find them hiding in a person I meet
Or in some distant mountain so tall
Tucked in unbearable pain
In the cold or the rain
Or where life has my back to the wall.

Butterfly shadows are exquisitely rare
And more prone to be glimpsed
When life seems so unfair
You won’t always find them on a sunshiny day
But more often than not when your blue skies turn gray.

Sometimes they’re found floating on a cloud of despair
Yet so quiet and gentle they may rest on your hair
They may be found riding on the crest of a storm
Or on the first hint of spring when the weather gets warm.

When just out of nowhere their shadows emerge
And then just as quickly their presence diverge
Our eyesight gets dimmer as we grow older they say
But whether sighted or blind we can have a butterfly day.

Butterflies

Mildred J. Foshie
(grandmother to MacKenzie)

Butterflies
Live tiny lives
But oh, the joy they bring!
Whether in a farmer’s field or palaces of a king.

No fashion designer has ever made
A color to match their brilliant shade.
No stripe or circle or design
Its beauty leaves them far behind.

They flit about from flower to flower
Oblivious to a summer shower.
They dine on poppies and crimson clover.
Their life just starts, and then it’s over.

Unconditional Love

Sharon Carmichael

“I will lend to you awhile” He said
A child to call your own.”
“To nurture and to care for,
Until I call her home.”

“To know her is to know, unconditional love,
This child of mine.” I say
“Thank you God for entrusting me,
With such a gift, I could never repay”.

“I searched far and wide,” He said
For a special family, for who she could belong.”
“Just love her with all your heart,” He said,
And help her to grow strong.”

“She has special needs” He said
And needs a Mama, Strong and True.
To walk with her, and hold her hand,
On this path, she has to go through.”

“She also needs a sister,” He said
To love and stand always by her side.
She looks at her sister, with love, and proudly tells all who listen,
“That’s “My Sister” with a smile.

“Thank you, for this family,” I say
That you have given me to cherish.”
But how can I endure the pain,
When you call her home to rest?”

“I don’t understand, “I say
Why so soon, she had to go?
I thought we had many more sunsets,
To watch as we grew old.”

I miss her smile that greeted me,
With the dawning of each day.
Whatever am I supposed to do,
Without the smile, that lit my way?”

My heart is broken, I feel so lost.
My life stretches before me, never to be the same.
There is an emptiness, that can’t be replaced.
My tears, they fall on my pillow, like rain.

“I know you have questions, Why?” He said
And I know My child, you are in pain.”
“ I see every tear you cry, And catch them,
As they fall down your face like rain.”

“Just know, as you were with her,
As she drew her very last breath,
I was also there to greet her,
As she came into my outstretched arms to rest.”

“Now she is singing in the Angel’s choir,
That beautiful smile upon her face,
I know you couldn’t imagine her to be,
In a more loving place.”

“I Thank God, “I say, “even through my tears”
“For this child of mine from above.”
“For to know her, was to have a gift,
From an Angel that gave me,
Unconditional Love

Mother’s Day Trail Message

Debra Reagan

May 15, 2007
This article was originally published on www.opentohope.com, a website whose mission is to help those who have suffered a loss to cope with their pain and invest in the future.

The first Mother’s Day without our son, Clint, was approaching. He had passed away the summer before, but the weight of grief was still heavy. So far, we had made it through each day by taking one slow, encumbered step at a time. Each morning for several weeks prior to the upcoming holiday, I noticed a little sports-type car parked near my car in the parking garage at work. Apparently, it was parked there on a long-term basis because it started to gather dust. After a while, the thick dust became a target for graffiti- some of which was amusing, and some was distasteful. One was even a negative message to a mother. Despite the fact I did not appreciate some of the comments written on the car, it reminded me of Clint and the activities of young people. The car remained there unmoved and untouched day after day. Considering the anxiety of the impending holiday, I did not give the car too much thought.

When the dreaded Mother’s Day arrived, my husband, Alan and I decided a hike to the top of one of our favorite peaks in the nearby national park. We had been avid hikers, but now even the simplest activity seemed to take more effort and energy than we had. We have had some adventures on our hikes, but this time our only goal was to get past another painful holiday without our youngest son and perhaps to be tired enough to finally get a few hours of peaceful sleep that night.

Just as we arrived in the trail parking area, approximately 35 miles from our home, we decided to take a different route to the top of the trail than the one originally planned. After several hours of uphill hiking, our bodies were beginning to feel the aches and pains. We were beginning to doubt we could even make it to the top because we knew this was not an easy hike. Then we came upon the following message written in large letters in the dirt, Happy Mom’s Day, Love from Your Sons. I was taken aback, and my heart began to beat a little faster. I thought, “Could this be for me?” The rest of the hike my thoughts bounced between belief and disbelief. I could not remember Clint using the words Mom’s Day instead of Mother’s Day, but it would be like him to shorten it. Another point that raised doubt in my mind was the signature of sons instead of son. Then I thought to myself, “After all I do have two sons, perhaps Clint had included his brother in the message.” I had a point and counter-point for each thought. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I thought to myself, “I don’t want to miss a message from my son. But on the other hand, I don’t want to seem like a foolish old woman.” I pondered many thoughts. I could not imagine who else could have left the message, because we had started hiking early and had not encountered any other hikers. Also, none of our family members or friends knew where we were hiking that day.

With little discussion about the message, we continued our way to the top. Once there, we had our lunch. Inside the fire tower, someone had left a book about the area in memory of his or her family and others had turned the book into a journal for recording messages. We left our own little message and cleaned up our lunch items. On a clear day, this hike offers some spectacular views, but this was an overcast day. A little disappointed by the lack of views, we started down the trail. Just then the clouds parted, and the sun came out. For that brief time, we enjoyed God’s beautiful handiwork displayed by nature. The cloud cover returned and silently we hiked back to our car somewhat contented and exhausted. Yet, the nagging doubt of the message remained in my mind.

When we arrived home that evening, we found a card in the mailbox from a friend of Clint’s. The sweet and thoughtful friend had written on the outside of the envelope, “Happy Mom’s Day.” This touched me deeply. I thought, “Could this be my confirmation? Was the use of Mom’s Day instead of Mother’s Day a sign?” The rest of the weekend my thoughts continued to bounce. I wanted the trail message to be for me, but how could I be sure?

Time does not stop for grief and a new workweek began. As I pulled into the parking garage and started to swipe my entry card, I had the quick thought, “If the message along the trail really was for me, the distasteful messages on the car would be gone because I shouldn’t pick and choose which messages are for me.” I park in a large multi-level parking garage, so at this point I could not see the dusty message-laden car. As I turned the corner and continued, I chuckled to myself about my absurd thoughts. “Of course, the distasteful messages would still be there and the whole weekend was just filled with coincidences.”

As I got closer I could see the car was still there, but to my shock all the writing on the car had been wiped clean. It did not appear to have been moved or washed, but it had been cleared of any writing. I had not said anything to anyone about the car or my thoughts, not even my husband. So, I smiled, wiped away the tears, and enjoyed the warm feeling of connection. I joyfully thought to myself as I walked into work that morning, “Okay, I get it. The message on the trail was for me.” For a while that day, the burden of grief would be a little lighter.

Hop John

Pam Ooten

Oh, my love, my precious son Hop John,
Life has changed since you’ve been gone.
If I could just hear your voice once more
Or for you to just walk in my front door,
Oh how I want to hold you in my arms,
To protect you from all the world’s harm.

There were so many things I had to say,
With every tear I cried from that very day.
I knew in my heart I had to let you go,
This was the worst time in my life I know.
I wish that I could have kept you here,
I feel your presence is always near.

I have tried my best to be strong,
But everything I do seems to go wrong.
The memories of you, I hold in my heart,
My precious son those will never depart!
Your blue eyes and your beautiful smile,
Made every day worth the while.

I look to Heaven and throw you a kiss,
To let you know that it’s you I truly miss.
I remember singing You are my Sunshine,
You are always that precious son of mine.
There’s nothing that will ever replace you,
For I know in my heart that is true.

I am waiting for that Reunion Day,
When I come home to Heaven to stay.
I am thankful to God for saving you,
My Lord and Savior saved me too.
I want you to know that I love you,
I know without a doubt you loved me to.

 

Poetry from 2016

David Arnold

This is what I woke to spinning in my head this morning. It is about a group of mothers that have 1 thing in common the loss and bereavement of a child.

Yes there really is a group here in the surrounding area where these moms meet to help one another find a new path without their child in their life…..

The Listening Hearts

When a woman gives birth to a child her heart grows bigger in every way. As her children grows she prays everyday to keep them from harm in hopes that they will grow strong.

Then one day there comes a knock on the door, it’s the worst nightmare a mother can hear as she falls to the floor, she was given news that the child she did bore was found living no more.

Her heart gave out as she started to shout, what will I do, I can’t live without you?

As the days grew longer the nightmares got stronger and she found herself not wanting to live any longer.

Then along came a friend that said, “let me lend you a hand, I want you to meet other mothers like you that do not know what to do.”

These mothers they meet to find answers they seek, instead of the hand they find a new friend whose heart is broken just like them.

They listen with understanding and compassion to every word you are passing for they too, are hurting like you and are needing a new heart and asking, where do I start?

Listen, do you hear that beat?

It’s other mothers that are here now standing at your feet, and they greet you with kisses on the cheek. It is these other mothers who have lost their child’s hearts too and they now welcome you.

There is a bond that no one other than a mother of the Listening Hearts can hear as they tell you that you my dear are always welcomed here!

Listening Hearts where moms find others in a similar struggle, a bereaved heart that is missing a beat from losing a child.

Franklin

Jon Franklin

One:
He left at noon
With love in heart,
14 hours and miles ahead

He drove until
The road turned dark,
And he needed a boost again

He filled up
One last time,
Stretched his legs and cleared his head

Put himself
Back on the road,
While most were asleep in bed

Chorus:
Then he found another angel
Not the one he’d set out for
She held her hand out to him
And pulled him out of that old Ford

Maybe He thought about his family
Maybe his heart fell for his friends
Maybe she said no need to worry
One day you’ll be together again
Again

Two:
She held him tight
When she found out
Begged him not to go

He told her, Mom
I think I’m in love
This is the only way I’ll know

She played their favorite song
Asked him to wait just for a while

He promised to be back
On Christmas Day
Then he gave her that last smile

Chorus:
But he found another angel
Not the one he’d set out for
She held her hand out to him
And pulled him out of that old Ford

Maybe He thought about his family
Maybe his heart fell for his friends
Maybe she said no need to worry
One day you’ll be together again

Bridge:
Now he knows first-hand amazing grace
And he’s heard how sweet the sound
Met his savior face to face
Once was lost, but now he’s found

Chorus:
He found another angel
Not the one he’d set out for
She held her hand out to him
And pulled him out of that old Ford

He’s probably running streets of glory
He’s probably dancing down streets of gold
Probably hugging everybody that passes by
Seeing the things that no one knows

He often thinks about his family
His heart falls for his friends
But he knows there’s no need to worry
One day they’ll be together again.
Again.

End.

Until

Scarlett Powell

2/24/2016

Until we meet again, I’ll smile as I reflect our moments together

Until we meet again, I’ll dance every chance I get

Until we meet again, I’ll live the American dream as no other

Until we meet again, I’ll kiss your father with love and understanding

Until we meet again, I’ll hug your brothers and sister like there is no tomorrow

Until we meet again, I’ll watch every sunset with a new set of eyes

Until we meet again, I’ll take every sunrise as a blessing

Until we meet again, I’ll laugh without regrets or longing

For I know this is only for a short time so until we meet again, Sean,

I’ll carry the love and courage for the moments we’ll have once again, Love mom

In loving memory of Sean Powell

The Bagpipe and the Turtle Dove

A. Katie Helms

Said the Bagpipe
to the Turtle Dove,
At a Graveside Service,
one Day…
“I work so hard to wail out Love,
With the Comforting Tunes I Play….
My Drones they Hum out Words of Peace…
But You…
You just Fly Away…”

“My wings, they Sing”…
the Dove replied.
“As I Soar away the Tears,
The Tears of Humans who’ve Recently Cried,
For their Loved Ones So Endeared…

I Lift their Hearts,
As I take My Flight…
I remind them of the Soul…
with its New Life,
As it Flies to the Heaven’s…
The Heavenly Heights…
Paradise as their Goal…”

“I See, My Colleague…”
the Pipe agreed
“Then together we shall Bring…
Comfort and Hope in our Melodies Sweet,
To the Families and the Friends…
and We Will Give Wings….
To the Memories Of the Dearly Departed…
and the Legacy….
That we Honor…
as WE Sing…”