Tag Archives: child’s death
THE BEAUTY REMAINS
My songs, Memory of Love and Beside Me Always reflect this. I’ve decided my song can still be beautiful, even if the theme is repetitive. As I finished my last line of lyrics, the memories flooded back. My song was originally written about a young girl being given a seashell memento by her lover – so I thought! However, as I sang my song, I flashed back to a day at the beach with my child. He was holding a seashell to add to his collection. Continue reading →
BESIDE ME ALWAYS – PART 2
when you died my tears filled an ocean. I was violently submerged – gasping, barely able to stand the shock; swirling in a raging current, a current of time. I was gasping, paralyzed, and choking, wanting to drown, but unable to sink. The current dragged me along –
it seemed endless . . .
Continue reading →
I’VE SLOWLY WEPT
I described my symptoms to Connie. There was the tingling and numbness – I could manage with that. There was the stiffness, especially in the morning. That was very upsetting, because I couldn’t use my hands. But worst of all were the spasms. The pain was unbelievable, and it was always the same. It would awaken me in the early morning hours – just as I finally fell into a deep sleep. My fingers were hot, throbbing, and intensely aching. I would have to jump out of bed and dance around in the bathroom to search for any position that would alleviate the pain. Continue reading →
ALL MY LIFE NEVER PREPARED ME
There was another tape still left – it was from Jason’s funeral. When Jason died, the funeral was scheduled two days later. I wanted to say something, but decided it would be far too difficult to speak at my child’s funeral. Instead, I made a speech on a cassette, which was played to a hushed audience in a crowded chapel. Continue reading →







