Category Archives: Death of a Child

The Seasons of Your Grief

Seconds become minutes; minutes become hours; hours become days; days become months and months become years; so goes the passing of time.

New grief is like the seconds…ever so slowly turning into the pain of the minutes and hours that you remember with your loved one. Eventually, the hours of painful loneliness turn into days of recalling those yesterdays together.

Sooner than you realize, the days become months and the months, years. Your pain of loss has become part of your life; your memories, part of each moment.

The seasons of your grief become a reality as you smile through your tears… remembering moments in time as you turn the pages in your album of life.

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Yesterday Cannot be Changed

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Memories of yesterdays are precious to our hearts. Often, memories are bitter-sweet and difficult to recall. We tend to focus on the bitter side of things and create much heartache for ourselves.

I have memories of my son, Jon, that are bitter-sweet. The tears I shed are tears of regret. I have gone most of my life regretting and blaming myself for not doing things different…for not knowing what to do…for not getting it right.

Hindsight is so clear, but the reality of the moment is all that I had. Looking back, I know I could have made better memories. Unfortunately, that is not how it works. You do with what you have and what you know at the time. I was young and trying to figure it out. I knew nothing about most everything.

I am learning to forgive myself. I am learning to let go of regret. If any of this is relative to your memories, I hope you will forgive yourself. It is hard to admit we are not perfect; that we do not have all the answers. It is very hard to look back and accept the bitter with the sweet. That is what we must do, for we cannot change it for yesterday cannot be changed, it can only be accepted.

Fingerprints in the Dust

There is a window sill in your room
that missed a dusting a time or two.
I haven’t dusted it since you’ve been gone
for the small prints I see belong to you.

Were you looking at a bird outside,
the day you left your prints behind?
Did you know that someday they would be,
a treasure on this sill for me?

The Value of a Hug

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When there are no words, we hug.

When we need comfort, we hug.

When we are afraid, we hug.

When we are apart,

We wish we could hug.

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A memory bear is always there to hug and hold, while we remember.

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The Album of Your Life

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The older you get, the more you reflect

Memories come to mind

those that bring a smile

sometimes a tear

and some that you regret

Memories are the album

of your life.

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