To All Parents
by Edgar Guest "I'll lend you for a little time a child of mine," He said.
"For you to love the while he lives and mourn when he is dead,
"It may be six or seven years, or twenty-two or three,
"But will you, till I call him back, take care of him for me? "He'll bring his charms to gladden you, but should his stay be brief,
"You'll have his lovely memories, as solace for your grief,
"I cannot promise he will stay, since all from earth return,
"But there are lessons taught down there I want this child to learn. "I've looked the wide world over in my search for teachers true,
"And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes I have selected you.
"Now will you give him all your love, nor think the labor vain,
"Nor hate me when I come to call to take him back again? I fancied that I heard them say: "Dear Lord, Thy will be done!
"For all the joy Thy child shall bring, the risk of grief we'll run.
We'll shelter him with tenderness; we'll love him while we may,
And for happiness we've known forever grateful stay. "But should the angels call for him much sooner than we'd planned,
"We'll brave the bitter grief that comes and try to understand."
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Welcome...
JUST FOR TODAY
FOR BEREAVED PARENTS
by
Vicki Tushingham
Just for today I will try to live through the next 24 hours and not expect to
get over my child's death, but instead learn to live with it just one day at a
time.
Just for today I will remember my child's life, not his death, and bask in
the comfort of all those treasured days and moments we shared.
Just for today I will forgive all the family and friends who didn't help or
comfort me the way I needed them to. They truly did not know how.
Just for today I will smile no matter how much I hurt on the inside, for
maybe if I smile a little, my heart will soften and I will begin to heal.
Just for today I will reach out to comfort a relative or friend of my child,
for they are hurting too, and perhaps we can comfort each other.
Just for today I will free myself from my self-inflicted burden of guilt, for
deep in my heart I know if there was anything in this world I could have done
to save my child from death, I would have done it.
Just for today I will honor my child's memory by doing something with another
child because I know that would have made my own child proud.
Just for today I will offer my hand in friendship to another bereaved parent,
for I do know how they feel.
Just for today when my heart feels like breaking, I will stop and remember
that grief is the price we pay for loving and the only reason I hurt is
because I had the privilege of loving so much.
Just for today I will not compare myself with others. I am fortunate to be
who I am and to have had my child I had for as long as I did.
Just for today I will allow myself to be happy, for I know that I am not
deserting him by living on.
Just for today I will accept that I did not die when my child did, my life
did go on,
and I am the only one who can make that life worthwhile once more.
Tears Are the Proof of Life
"How long will the pain last?" a broken-hearted mourner asked me.
"All the rest of your life," I answered truthfully.
No matter how many years pass, we remember. The loss of a loved one is like a major operation; part of us is removed, and we have a scar for the rest of our lives.
This doesn't mean that the pain continues at the same intensity. There is a short while, at first, when we hardly believe it. It is rather like when we have cut our hand, we see the blood flowing, but the pain has not yet set in. So when we are bereaved, there is a short while before the pain hits us. But when it does, it is massive in its effect. Grief is shattering.
Then the wound is healed, so to speak, the stitches are taken out...
The scar is still there, and the scar tissue, too. As the years go by, we manage. But the pain is still there, not far below the surface. We see a face that looks familiar, hear a voice that has echoes, see a photograph in someone's album, and it is as though the knife were in the wound again.
But not so painfully. And mixed with joy, too. Because remembering a happy time is not all sorrow; it brings back happiness with it.
"How long will the pain last?"
All the rest of your life.
But the thing to remember is that not only the pain will last, but the blessed memories as well. Tears are the proof of life. The more love, the more tears. If this be true, then how could we ever ask that the pain cease altogether. For then the memory of love would go with it. The pain of grief is the price we pay for love.
Author Unknown
The girl that lived at our house author unknown Was she just imagination,
The girl I held so dear;
The one who lived at our house?
I remember her so clear.
I remember how she used to come,
When she was scared or hurt;
I used to wash her face and hands
When she made mud pies in the dirt.
I used to rock her in a chair
Till she was fast asleep;
And when her eyes would finally close
Past her bed I'd softly creep.
She only stayed a little while,
She won't come anymore,
Although I'll always wish I'd see her
Running through our door.
The girl who lived at our house,
Her smile, her angel's face;
Not only was she mine awhile,
She's also in God's grace.
God let me keep her for awhile,
The girl who lived with me;
And then He took her back again,
For Heaven's eternity.
And there, I know, she thinks of me,
Although she seems so far;
She'll look and smile and throw a kiss
From atop her heavenly star.
I'll see her again someday, I know,
When toward Heaven I too will depart.
But until I see her there with God,
I'll just keep her forever in my heart. If roses grow in Heaven,
Lord please pick a bunch for me,
Place them in my daughters arms
and tell her they're from me.
Tell her that I love her and miss her,
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss upon her cheek
and hold her for awhile.
Because remembering her is easy,
I do it everyday,
but there's an ache within my heart
that will never go away.
At the finest level of my being,
you're still with me.
We still look at each other,
at that level beyond sight.
We talk and laugh with each other,
in a place beyond words.
We still touch each other,
on a level beyond touch.
We share time together in a place,
where time stands still.
We are still together,
on a level called Love.
But I cry alone for you,
in a place called reality.
Richard Lepinsky I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.
She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud on the horizon,
just where the sea and the sky come to mingle with one another.
Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone."
"Gone where?"
Gone from sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side,
and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.
And just at that moment when someone at my side says "There, she is gone.", there are other eyes watching her coming,
And other voices ready to take up the glad shout:
"Here she comes!"
And that is dying
Henry Scott Holland
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