I went to the parole hearing of one of my son’s murderers, accompanied by my strong supporters: Michelle (the love of Tony’s life, who traveled all the way from New York to be with me), Debra, and Tracy (my Listening Hearts bereaved moms).
I sat in the sunshine by the community pool and I overheard several sweet little voices call out, “Watch, papa, watch.” This universal call of a child reminded me of all the times mothers watch their children. We watched them as they grew and tried new things. We watched them as they slept, and sometimes we even had to watch them as they struggled with life’s challenges.
For a mother, this watching began the moment we knew we were pregnant. We watched the foods we ate and we watched with a little nervousness for all the issues discussed in the pregnancy books.
Then the precious child arrived and the watching intensified. We got up in the middle of the night to watch their breathing. We watched each step as they grew. Things did not always go as we had planned, but we adapted and we continued to watch them go forth in life.
We happily took on our tasks as mothers and even thought ahead to the day that we would be watching our grandchildren grow. Then one horrible day the worst thing happened and our child is gone. Our world is changed forever.
Our child will always be a part of who we are. Things are different, but the love continues and now we watch with our hearts. We watch for pennies, rainbows, birds, butterflies, signs and connections.
Debra Reagan
In Memory of Clint
Well, call me crazy, but I’m on the other side of that dreaded day. I unlocked the fire safe box that holds Sawyer’s ashes and found a little stuffed penguin I had put in there at Christmas, which I had forgotten. He loved penguins, and Christmas always had several once he let me know his favorite ornament was a penguin I had given him. I picked up the baby blanket wrapped box and made my way to the living room to get Curious George. Then on the back-porch I unwrapped the box and opened the lid. With sad eyes I looked at and touched the clear plastic bag of ashes. I cried as memories of that horrible day flooded my mind and my heart.
Alan and I made a trip to the same beach where we had taken many family vacations with our sons. On the third day while we were sitting and gazing upon the waves hitting the beach, I became filled with thoughts of our deceased son, Clint. I didn’t say anything to Alan about my thoughts, but I did ask him if he ever wished we could turn back time.