Just one of those days....

Wanted to call you today to say I love you, but another woman has your old number (I do call it periodically and then hang up on the person).  The post office has no forwarding address. I guess heaven is just too far away.  I love you and I miss you. You are in my heart always. Loved ones are gone but never ever forgotten.

We miss you Laura & Sierra. 

Have fun together!

Quote from Washington Irving

The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced.  Every other wound we seek to heal, every other affliction to forget, but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open, this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude.

I will trust the unknown

It is almost two and a half years since Laura moved to Heaven. I am missing her today as much as the day she left. Although the two years have passed, it seems to me like she left just a short time ago. I have to make myself conscious of the fact that people don’t feel the time like I do.


I started a few activities after her death to help me climb out of that deep, dark hole I was absorbed in. I am still participating in most of the activities to help me maintain my sanity. I still read from Healing After Loss, by Martha Whitmore Hickman. I would like to share a mediation reading from the book with you.

Faith is the centerpiece of a connected life. It allows us to live by the grace of invisible strands. It is a belief in a wisdom superior to our own. Faith becomes a teacher in the absence of fact. –Terry Tempest Williams

We would like to know, wouldn’t we? Or think we would. Experiences like the loss of a loved one fill our lives with questions about the nature of life beyond death. What is the nature of God? What will be our experience of God—and our loved one—after we ourselves die?

Of course these are unanswerable questions. But we have to do something with our longing to know, with our yearning to continue a relationship with our loved one.

Blessed are those for whom faith can absorb the shock of not knowing, who can trust in “a wisdom superior to our own,” in “the grace of invisible strands.”

Perhaps all of us, whatever our faith tradition, can extend our sense of trust into the unknown world. Perhaps it seems a risk. But it may help us profoundly. And—unlike some risks—it won’t do us any harm!

She Is Gone

I came across this poem reprinted in The Grieving Garden by S Redfern and S Gilbert. The poem was written  by David Harkins. I took the liberty to insert Laura's name.

Monica L Jones lost her daughter, Bronwyn at the age of 9. Monica was one of the many contributors to the book. At the time of writing, it was 28 years ago that Bronwyn died.

Monica states "...with time one can remember one's child with calmness and gratitude." She included the poem because it expresses her feelings. I am posting it because it spoke to my heart.


LAURA IS GONE


You can shed tears that Laura is gone
Or you can smile because she lived


You can close your eyes and pray that Laura
will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left


Your heart can be empty because you can’t see Laura
Or you can be full of the love that you shared


You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday


You can remember Laura and only that she is gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on


You can cry and close your mind,
Be empty and turn your back


Or you can do what Laura would want:
Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.


--David Harkins, 1981

"Piece by piece, I reenter the world. A new phase; a new voice. Birds console me by flying, trees by growing, dogs by the warm patch they leave on the sofa. It is like a slow recovery from a sickness, this recovery of one’s self."

Toby Talbot



Two years ago when my grief was so fresh and the black hole so deep, I thought this would never happen—that I would take pleasure in the small, ordinary events of life. I thought my perception of the world would always be dominated by this piercing, overriding loss of losing my child. The excruciating pain that stabs my heart no longer cuts into my consciousness all the time. Yet, there still isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t cry and long for my daughter, Laura. My heart will ache for her until the day I die.

As you can imagine, November and December are extremely hard months to live through. I try to acknowledge the difficulties of the season and do my best getting through the days, I do what I can to cultivate some inner peace, I grant random acts of kindness in honor of Laura, and I try to laugh when I can.

I pray I will not lose my way before the days quiet down again.

Birthday Gift

Laura was in the habit of buying me one carnation for special events. She started doing that from the time
she had her own spending money. Sometimes she would give me carnations just because she was happy
I did something for her. I always told her one is just as good as twelve or more. Of course, if she wasn’t
short on cash, she would buy me more than one. Yet, I appreciated every carnation she gave me.

The night before my birthday, I asked Laura to please, if at all possible, to send me one carnation
for my birthday. I asked my angels to help her accomplish the task. I woke up the next morning
and sent the same birthday request out to the universe. I shared my hope for the day with her dad.

We enjoyed our time at the SD zoo and all the while I kept my eye out for carnations.

The day advanced, the zoo closed, and no sign.

We were seated for dinner at 8:30 pm and I realized then that I wasn’t getting my birthday wish. The
waiter came over to welcome us and handed us menus. The second time he came to us he had one carnation
in a vase and placed it on the table.

The tears started and once again I was grateful for the one carnation.

Remembering Laura

We want to thank everyone for remembering Laura on her Angel Day. We received many calls and cards and each one is appreciated. I am sure Laura also feels the love from everyone.

One day we will be together again. In the meantime, we have work and fun to do here and you have work and fun to do there. We all miss you! Shine brightly my daughter.

With all our love,
Mom & Dad

I have entered a new country and it feels strange

It is almost two years since my daughter, Laura, left this world very suddenly. We are still struggling with her absence in our lives. My books continue to give me comfort in the passages I read. Lots of times the words I read reflect my feelings so precisely. I would like to share this verse with you. It is exactly how Fred and I feel. It is taken from Healing after Loss, by Martha Whitmore Hickman.


The death of a loved one shifts the whole foundation of our life. Nothing is as it was. Even what was most familiar seems in a strange way unfamiliar. It is as though we had to learn a new language, a new way of seeing. Even the face in the mirror sometimes seems the face of a stranger.

What are we to make of this? Just that we truly have, in a way, entered a new country. Though the terrain looks much the same and many of the people are the same people, there is a different light over everything.

Remember how long it took, when you moved to a new house or a new town, for it to seem like home? It is the same with any major life change. We will get used to this new land, this new arrangement of people and relationships. But it will take time--time to look around, to be startled, and to be brought up short, again and again. An inner lurch of protest before we acknowledge--Oh, yes, it's different now.

Wishing a peaceful Easter to you

I am the resurrection and the life.
Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live,
And everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.
John 11:25-26

On Easter Sunday, Christians around the world celebrate the glorious resurrection of our Lord, Jesus Christ. The promise is an amazing source of energy for Christians, especially for bereaved parents.

If you have a relationship with parents who have lost a child, then you already know that it takes a very long time for them to realize that their child is not going to walk through the door and greet them with “hello,” or join them for celebrations, or wake up in their bedrooms and wish them “Happy Easter.” We have to find strength daily to fight to accept the reality of our new lives—a life that we never would have chosen. Most of us will spend our entire lives trying to do just that.

Before Laura’s sudden death, Fred and I frequented a church outside of our community. No particular reason, we just preferred attending mass there. In November 2008 shortly after Laura died, we went to talk to one of the priest, we were looking for comfort and reassurance that we could survive loosing Laura. At the time, I believe we were looking in the wrong place. We were not ready to hear what he had to say. I wanted someone to wake me and tell me that I was living a horrendous nightmare. I wanted him to tell me to go home and Laura would call me. But of course that is not what he said. His words at the time assaulted my entire being. I wanted to scream at him but I didn’t have the strength. I couldn’t tolerate listening to his Catholic wisdom. He blatantly told us, a mother and father who just lost their daughter, that we should not be grieving for her, after all she is with God now. I hated hearing those words and I was beyond furious and defeated. We wanted Laura home with us (and we still do)! How dare he tell us that we should accept her death? I left that church determined never to go back again.

Now it is March 2010. I have been back to the chapel a couple of times to attend masses that have been dedicated in Laura’s memory. Our lives have moved forward even though we couldn’t imagine that ever happening. The truth is simply we don’t have a choice. We have to find strength and continue to live not only for ourselves but to honor our child’s memory and to share today and tomorrow with all the family and friends that we are blessed to have.

Spring is a new beginning and Easter renews the spirit. When we are ready to reflect on the words “everyone who lives and believes in me will never die,” we will be able to experience some peace and joy despite our pain. These powerful words reminds us that God and our angels are always with us, no matter what our challenges and blessings are.

I have heard your prayer,
I have seen your tears; indeed, I will heal you.
2 Kings 20:5

Blessed Release

For all the times I've cried
When Laura's death hurt so badly
For me to hold inside.
Tears freely flood my face.
The tears, the ones I keep in check all day
Releases the ache that builds up.
The tears are as vital as breathing for me.
Thank you God for tears

Angel Quest--November 8, 2009

One year…one year…it can’t be, but it is. The sun and the moon continued to rise, the waves continued to break along the shore, the seasons came and went. A year without my daughter and life still went on around us. A year without seeing Laura other than in our minds and photos, a year without physically touching her, hugging her…a year spent grieving for Laura and loving her always. We continue to talk to her and I continue to write letters to her hoping that she reads my thoughts. The first year without Laura…the most horrendous, painstaking year of our lives.


I haven't posted anything new in a while (although I do have things to post) because I haven't had the will power to do so until I read tonight's passage from "Healing after Loss" with edits by me:

Deeper and deeper we burrow into our grief. Desolations pile on one another.

We wonder if we shall ever see anything on the horizon

but this gloom and sadness.

Then one day, in some moment of quiet reflection (or in my case a room sitting with my dear friends and 30-40 strangers at a workshop), we find ourselves Thinking of Something Else (or validating our belief)! Is it possible?

Although we may feel alive today, we will move

back and forth many times--back into the deep, dark hole

and out again into light.

After a while we will realize it is all one world, that feelings of joy and sadness enrich each other--as a person who has been mortally ill has a new appreciation for the beauty of starlight, the taste of orange juice,the caress of love.

Is it all right? (Absolutely)

Is it being disloyal to our lost loved one--to savor our life afresh? (Absolutely not.)

Are we in danger of forgetting? (How could we ever?)

Not to worry. We would as soon forget to breathe.

Since Sunday on Laura's first anniversary at the Angel Quest workshop I became determined to be open to the possibility of joy in my life, and I will not be afraid or feel guilty anymore because Laura confirmed for me (witnessed by my friends) that she is happy and surrounded by love and light. She wants me to "pay attention to all the signs she sends me." I will try because on that afternoon I promised her I would and that I would go on living my life.


Angel Quest: http://www.lucelucina.com/

My daughter, my friend

Today, I finally had time to visit "An Angels Touch Gift Shop" in Forked River. I have been wanting to stop in but never had the time, so after I was done working for the day I took a ride to the shop. I met gracious women in the store. Melinda & Liz were so welcoming that another customer and I stayed there for a couple of hours just talking! Both women shared some of their life experiences with us. I never did get the customer's name, but it doesn't matter. We were all there for a reason and it was well worth the trip.

While there, a customer came in looking for a unique gift for her friend who was moving. She asked us to help her and we did. She purchased a beautiful healing blanket. There are so many wonderful ones to choose. They are all handmade (and very soft) by a mom and her two daughters and blessed by a priest at St. Mary's. The family also prays the Rosary over each blanket before distributing them for sale.

I could not resist buying a beautiful angel which has a saying inscribed on the fold of her dress: My daughter, my friend. I am going to place it along side the angel that Laura bought me which has an endearing verse (I will post a picture and verse of the angel later).

Laura always put a lot of thought into her gifts, so when you received one from her you knew it was from her heart.

An Angels Touch Gift Shop

All Occasion Gifts

angelstouchall@gmail.com

Please Don't Ask Me If I'm Over It

Please, don't ask me f I'm over it yet.
I'll never be over it.
Please, don't tell me Laura's in a better place.
She isn't here with me.
Please, don't say at least Laura isn't suffering.
I haven't come to terms with why she had to suffer at all.
Please don't tell me you know how I feel.
Unless you have walked in my shoes.
Please, don't ask me if I feel better.
Bereavement isn't a condition that clears up.
Please, don't tell me at least you had her for so many years.
What year would you chose for your child to die?
Please don't tell me God never gives us more than we can bear.
Please, just say your're sorry.
Please, just say you remember my daughter, if you do.
Please, just listen when I talk about Laura.
Please, mention her name and let me know it's okay to keep my precious memories alive.
Please, Just let me cry, if that's what I need to do for today.

Author Unknown
From Our Children, Our Hearts
Journey of Child Loss and Remembrance
edited by Emily Laitmon with Terry Toll