Memorial website in the memory of your loved one
Tributes and Condolences
Page 1 of 21   Next Pages Next 5 4 3 2  1   [Total of 416 records]
 
Is this really my life?  / Lori Burgstahler (Mother)
For those of you who are new to this journey, and for those who don't understand, but want to. This is for you: Rewritten by Lori Burgstahler Only a parent understands the powerful bond you have with your child; that absolute undying love you have and that monumental desire that roars like an open fire inside you to protect that child at all costs. It is openly said that a parent will lay down their life for their child, but it is not until you have your own that you truly understand these fierce emotions. Parenting is wearing your heart on the outside of your body. Whatever you imagine it might be like to have your child die, multiply that by about a trillion and you’re probably not even close. On the surface it appears society is accepting of this unbearable sadness and people are supportive and open to talking about it. However, in my situation I’ve been surprised by people’s genuine kindness and empathy as much as I’ve been repeatedly shocked & disappointed by their lack of it. It’s necessary for bereaved parents to be able to talk and, most of all, be able to talk openly. I’ve found it’s the only thing which dispels the trauma. Sure, friends and family have been supportive, but it’s proven to be the case with me that there is a mandate as for how long their unwavering support, patience, understanding, concern and empathy lasts. The truth is, the situation is so unbearably sad that it becomes incredibly emotionally draining on the other person. The realization that they can’t fix your sadness sets in, the frustration builds because not even they can see an end in sight, then gradually it starts to impede on the happiness in their life. They haven’t lost their child so why should they spend all their time sad about yours? I will, for the sake of all the other parents out there with empty arms, write ten things I wish people knew about the loss of a child. Maybe one of my ten points might make a difference to a bereaved parent’s life. 1. Ten years on I still get up every day with the exact same sadness I had the day Taylor died. The only difference is I’m more skilled at hiding it and I’m much more used to the agony of my broken heart. The shock has somewhat lessened, but I do still find myself thinking I can’t believe this happened. I thought that only happened to other people. You asked how I was in the beginning yet you stopped, why? Where did you get the information on what week or month was good to stop asking? 2. Please don’t tell me that all you want is for me to be happy again. Nobody wants that more than I do, but it’s something that can only be achieved with time. On top of that, I have to find a new happiness. The happiness I once felt, that carefree feeling, will never return in its entirety. It also helps to have the patience and understanding from loved ones. 3. Please don’t say ‘I want the old Lori back!’ Or, I can see the old Lori coming back! Lori’s not coming back. This is who I am now. If you only knew the horror I witnessed and endured you would know it’s not humanly possible for me to ever be the same person again. Losing a child changes who you are. I’ve been told my eyes look haunted. It’s a strange thing for someone to tell a grieving mother, but it’s true – I am haunted. My views on the world have changed, things that were once important are not now and vice versa. I feel as though you’re telling me two things here. Firstly you don’t like the person I am and, secondly if the old Lori’s not coming back I’m out of here. By the way there is nobody that misses the “old Lori” more than me!!! I’m mourning two deaths here; my son’s and my former self. 4. If you chose to acknowledge my son’s birthday or the anniversary of his death on the first year, it’s terribly gut wrenching when you didn’t bother to acknowledge the second or third or fourth or... Do you think any subsequent birthday or anniversary is not as sad for me? It also says to me in very big neon lights that you’ve moved on and forgotten about my son. 5. Please stop with the continual comments about how lucky I am to have my other child. Do I say this to you? Then why say it to me? I’ve buried my son do you seriously think I feel lucky? 6. It’s not healthy to cry in front of the kids? You’re wrong. It is perfectly healthy that she sees I’m sad her brother has died. When someone dies it’s normal to cry. What would not be normal would be for my daughter to grow up and think “I never even saw my Mom sad over Taylor’s death.” That would paint me in a light that would tell them it’s healthy to hide your emotions when obviously it’s not. 7. I have two children I don’t have one. If you want to ignore Taylor as my first born because he’s dead go for it but don’t do it for me. Two not One! 8. There are still some days, yes ten years on, that I still want to hide away from the world and take a break from pretending everything is oh so wonderful and I’m all better. Please don’t just assume I’ve thrown in the towel, or worse, actually be so thoughtless as to wonder what’s wrong with me. I still know I’ve married the catch of the century and my daughter is gorgeously divine and I have a beautiful house, but I’m grieving. It’s mentally exhausting, especially raising a teenage daughter and on top of that maintaining a strong and loving marriage. Unbeknownst to you, I’m dealing with not just my own grief, but my beautiful husbands and my daughters. It would be nice if you congratulated me on the state of my family because keeping it together, stable and happy, has been hard work. 9. I did notice. To the friends and family that found the entire death and dealing with my sadness all too hard and held secret events behind our backs that were lied about, stopped inviting us to things we had always been included in and slowly ended our relationship thinking I didn’t notice. I did notice. The only reason why I never said anything is because I’m not wasting my words on your shameful behavior. I am thankful for something though – I didn’t waste any more time on people that were capable of such shallowness and cruelty. Please don’t fear. I would be the first one by your side if the same thing happened to you. That should give you some indication of how horrible it is. 10. Grieving for a child lasts until you see them again. It’s a lifetime. If you’re wondering how long your friend or family member might be grieving for, the answer is forever. Don’t rush them, don’t trivialize their sadness, don’t make them feel guilty for being sad and when they talk to you, open your ears and listen, really listen to what they’re telling you. It’s possible you’ll learn something. Don’t be so cruel as to give up on them remember it’s not about you it’s about them. I’ve been left repeatedly heart broken as family members that I truly loved and never thought would walk away from me tossed me into the too hard basket or – more hurtfully – the crazy basket. Phone calls stopped, text messages stopped, comments on Facebook stopped and I get the same thing every time. “Sorry darling I’m just flat out tired”, “Let’s catch up soon” and “I miss you.” The list could keep going but I get it. I’m not the type of person either that is going to pursue a friendship I know the other person doesn’t want. Everyone has a conscience and thankfully I don’t have to live with theirs. You would think there are a lot of articles that raise awareness of the awful process associated with grieving for a child, but even stories from other parents are a rarity. The sad reality is there just isn’t enough said or printed. You seldom hear through the media about grieving for a child and the impact their death has on all the various people involved. It can destroy a marriage instantly, it can leave siblings hurt, confused and angry. Often siblings are too young to understand, they’re angry that their family is not the same and even angrier that they don’t recognize their parents. Losing their sibling is bad enough but so much more is lost for these siblings that is never recognized. I could count on one hand the amount of times I’ve been asked how my daughter is. You might hear about the gory details surrounding a child’s death in the media but that’s about all. There should be so much more written about this topic, and additionally it should be talked about more openly than it is. I’m disappointed not just for me but for all the other grieving parents in society that this topic is met with so much fear and silence. The bottom line is people are uncomfortable with the situation and I really don’t know why. My feelings tell me it is such an horrific thing that most people don’t want to know about it. Maybe they fear through knowing so much they might become obsessed with their own children dying. Parents worry enough about their children already. Do they really need the added worry about knowing how your child died? Without question, my son Taylor dying suddenly has been the worst thing that has happened in my 50 years here on Earth. I doubt that anything in my future is going to top it. Actually, just between us, I beg and plead with God on a daily basis that nothing ever does top that experience, but the truth is I just don’t know. I’m not a mind reader nor do I have a magic pair of glasses where I can see how the rest of my life will unfold. I just have to hope that nothing ever does go wrong, but I have a very real fear it will because it has actually already happened to me. I know without having to hold a psychology degree that having those fears is normal. “I don’t think I would be able to survive something like it again.” What I’ve endured, losing my sweet son, has been so unimaginably horrific that I don’t think I would survive something like it again. What I have had to give emotionally to get through it has dwindled away all my mental strength – just like twenty cents pieces in a kid’s piggy bank. I’m broke – not broken – I’m broke emotionally. I know all the energy I’ve needed over the last ten years has not just been spent on my grief for Taylor. It’s been on trying to get my friends and family to understand what it’s like to walk in my shoes. I’m angry about that. When I should have been grieving, I was defending myself. I’m probably very close to being as angry about that as I am about his death. I wish I wasn’t angry. Lord knows I don’t need another emotion but I don’t know how to not be angry, especially with some of the things that people have said and done to me. I talk and talk yet I’m often never actually heard. I’m not sure if it’s a lack of literature around or perhaps that people simply don’t want to read it because it’s so awful and they don’t want to know someone they love and care about it experiencing so much agony. I personally know though, if I found out a family member or friend had been diagnosed with an illness or disease, or worse, their child, I would be on Google immediately finding out more about it and how I could help them the best. So why is it that this doesn’t seem to apply with the death of a child? Most people just think they know. I find this extremely frustrating. The death of your child is the worst thing that can happen to a person, yet most feel educated enough to advise, to criticize, to lend their words of wisdom when they don’t know the first thing about it. Get over it? Why don’t we see if you could get over it first! Most people wouldn’t know that when I meet someone new I instantly become uncomfortable and filled with dread. I know at any moment when I engage in conversation the question is going to arise about my family and how many children do I have? I would love not to have to tell them. Life would be a lot easier if I could take that path. However, I do have another child. His name is Taylor. He would now be 27 but he died when he was 17 years old. He isn’t lost – I know exactly where he is, he’s dead. Taylor was my first born and he deserves to be acknowledged just as much as my daughter. I’ve lied before saying I have only one child, but the guilt that follows me around for days on end is just simply not worth it. I can actually hear Taylor saying to me “don’t I matter anymore?” “Why were you too ashamed to talk about me?” So personally for me, as much as I don’t want to tell someone I don’t personally know very well that my son is dead, the guilt of not acknowledging him is worse. I don’t have one child, I have two and my daughter is not my only child – I have a son as well. It’s pot luck what their reaction is going to be. There’s no telling what they’re going to say. You just have to close your eyes, cover your broken heart and hope they don’t plunge that knife further in. If I could have my questions answered on why people give so much advice on a topic that they know so little about, it would really help me. What has surprised me so much since Taylor’s death is how little empathy there is in the world. Empathy to me is a no brainier. You just imagine you’re in the other persons shoes, simple yes? Apparently no. Just think how you would like to be treated and if you wouldn’t like it don’t do it. You never know what your life holds – one day it could be you wearing my shoes! I hope this article about my personal thoughts and opinions helps at least one person understand to some degree what life is like for the bereaved parent ❤
Thought Provoking Idea Brings Me Back To Taylor  / Kevin Hassett (Friend)
Ever since graduating college and moving into the business world I have become extremely interested in self-betterment by growing as a person and as a businessman. I have never been as interested in reading about certain business ideals and success' that I can emulate than this past year after attending a month long leadership class. I have had a successful early business career by climbing the marketing ladder to become the youngest Director in my company. My reporting lines going directly to the founders whom are the CEO/CTO respectively, and having the task of managing marketing strategies of close to 50 people. This is not meant as a way to show my influence or success but Taylor's, because I can honestly say I would not have gotten to where I am and where I am going if it wasn't for Taylor's influence. I actually realized this today which is unbelievable so many years later after Taylor has passed. I recently read a book called "The Go-Giver." It is a short parable describing how Giving without the expectations of receiving is one of the most powerful things one can do in business and in life. I think I learned this characteristic from two people: My father and Taylor. Taylor used his positive attitude, charisma, generosity, and amenability to create a network of people who truly cared for his well-being in life and in work. The sky was the limit for this young man's potential in life until his accident cut short a great persons life. I actually did not realize what the world had lost during the week of his death. I was selfishly consumed with my loss of a best friend. Taylor would have went to an Ivy league school and most likely be working for the president or running a multi-million dollar business. The sky was the limit for Taylor and I did not realize that until recently. I knew how bright, charismatic, and influential Taylor was but thinking about where he would be now has heights of success that I can't fathom at 25. I encourage visitors of this site to read that book because the only thing you will be able to think about is Taylor. This is meant as a thank you to Taylor for his tremendous influence on my life at such a young age. Kevin
~OUR MEMORIES CARRY US THROUGH AS WE MOVE AHEAD~  / CATHY GIRAUD~MOM OF DAVID &. KEVIN ~. (ANOTHER GRIEVING MOM )
No words...  / Belle Butler (no relation )
I have no words that could ever give you peace... I so badly wish I did, but I don't. I can only say how terribly sorry I am for your loss. Days seem so much longer when you lose someone. God bless Taylor, and your family. Hugs to you all <3 Belle
Another Angel Mom  / Krissy Major (none)
This is a beautiful memorial you have in honor of your angel son Taylor. Reading your story and what happened to him brought tears to my heart n my eyes. The pain I know all to well as I too lost my wonderful son Jesse Trey on 2-6-12. Everything you said is exactly how I felt and what I feel every dayday and will until I see him again. He was just 21 yrs old and we miss him so bad. Your son seemed like such a beautiful soul so very special and something you said made me think about my sons death and how its not so bad, you said your sons soul had fully matured and it was time to go on for him, even though their physical bodies are young their true self has matured. I like that thought. Thank you for sharing your wonderful son Taylor with us! Krissy angel mom of Jesse Trey Stafford....TodayAndForever
Something in common unfortunately  / Robert Lukacs
I came accross your your posting online while trying to find answers to questions of my own that have no answers.

Im very sorry for your loss as I have experienced the same.

What is normal. I found the one posting that rang very true for me is what to say when people ask me if I  have children. Do I say two or one. Do I pretend the child I lost never was to avoid a long explanation or do I explain and watch the uncomfortable faces in front of me.

We lost our Daughter Lauren 2 years and 8 months ago. She was two  months away from nine. Died suddenly in a post office in Avonadale Arizona from something undetected called an AVM in the brain stem. One moment we were happy and now we are whatever you call this.




Be Well


Robert Lukacs
These Shoes  / Elizabeth Mom Forever To Jason Bentley
THESE SHOES

I wear a pair of shoes. They are ugly shoes. Uncomfortable shoes.

I hate my shoes each day I wear them and each day I wish I had another pair.

Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes. They are looks of sympathy. I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.

They never talk about my shoes. To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable. To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them. But once you put them on you can never take them off.

I now realize I am not the only one who wears these shoes. There are many pairs in this world. Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them. Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.

Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes. They have made me who I am. I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child
Favorite Brian Andreas quotes -- For Taylor  / Lori Burgstahler (mother)

Wanting him to come back before anyone notices part of the world has not moved since he left. 

I wish you could have been there for the sun & the rain & the long, hard hills. For the sound of a thousand conversations scattered along the road. For the people laughing & crying & remembering at the end. But, mainly, I wish you could have been there.



I held him close for only a short time, but after he was gone, I'd see his smile on the face of a perfect stranger and I knew he would be there with me all the rest of my days.


I sometimes wake in the early morning & listen to the soft breathing of my child & I think to myself, this is one thing I will never regret & I carry that quiet with me all day long.


There are days I drop words of comfort on myself like falling leaves and remember that it is enough to be taken care of by my self.

If I love you with all my heart, he said, what will you give me? & then he stopped & said I didn't have to answer that because he was going to do it anyway.


There are lives I can imagine without children but none of them have the same laughter & noise.


In my dream, the angel shrugged and said, if we fail this time, it will be a failure of imagination and then she placed the world gently in the palm of my hand.



I still remember the day the world took you back & there was never time to thank you for the thousand scattered moments you left behind to watch us while we slept.



She said she usually cried at least once each day not because she was sad, but because the world was so beautiful & life was so short.


I was waiting for the longest time, she said. I thought you forgot.
It is hard to forget, I said, when there is such an empty space when you are gone.

After her son died she carried his life more gently & left an empty space for the birds & other creatures.

I can't keep away  / K. Washington (passer by )

This is the second day in a row that I have been on this website reading and reading and reading.

And crying and crying and crying my heart and soul out because I can actually feel your pain Taylor's mom.

I just wish I knew how to take away your pain. I DID read to the very end of your first page here. And then I read it again. Your pain is viseral. I want to find a way to bring him back for you because I know now that that is the ONLY way to make your pain disappear.

You have so much love for your daughter too that just blows me away. How much you loved your chidlren and how hard you tried to keep them in your life as you seem to be doing now is worthy of a purple heart, It is heroic.

I will send this to everyone I know and test the on it to make sure they read EVERYTHING. I feel as if I am now responsible for introducing Taylor to the world. To get people to say his name out loud, to build statues of him, whatever - but to NEVER FORGET HIM and to get someone new each day to find a way to get to know him.

Is it possible to love a ghost? It must be because I am in love with your son.

 

Tay / Enu Singh (same as my Son )
Life is a peril of eternity. His life was short as some would say. But not when you remember him each day. He taught You life is not here to stay. It is what you remember from each day. It is not the length of your life on earth. It is what is remembered from time of birth. He is a part of my life and my soul. That was never allowed to grow old. When he was born he made his mark. His life kept many from the dark. Just remember him each minute of every day. Until you arewith him forever to stay. You have to wait till when it's your time. But forever his memory will be Thine.
I am sobbing as I write this  / Cait Valentin (passer-by - grieving mom )

I came across your sons memorial page and I am speechless. I am here at work crying and just wishing I could bring him back to you. You're a wonderful, loving mother and he seemed like an amazing, beautiful boy. I am 22 years old I had my son at 16 and he passed away September 8th 2012. Everything you have posted on his page.. Is like you are ready my mind. My heart is so broken and I am so LOST. Your page really touched me and I wish that more parents were like you and I. We love our children with everything in us. Is isn't fair that we have them and love them more than anything in the entire world, we females are made to give life and then to have them ripped away from us is just WRONG.

 Never in a million years did I think I'd have to hold my deceased son, NEVER! It was my biggest fear, the worst thing that could have ever happened in my life, happened. I will never forget you, Taylor or his story. He lived a very good life, be proud of that. I wish we had our sons back. That entire page is exactly how I feel. I'm so sorry you have to feel it too, I wish none of us mother had to go through such pain.

My son was only 5 years old and right now we don't know why it happened. He was the most beautiful, happy, healthy boy with so much potential to be whatever he wanted to be. The funniest,
smartest boy. He was so mature for his age. It hurts to know that I won't be able to take anymore picture of him or go on anymore vacations or just to grab him and cuddle on the couch. It hurts and it won't go away. We have to live with this pain. The person keeping me alive is his 15 month old little sister, she looks just like him. She is now my world.

Without her, I wouldn't be here because my son was keeping me alive in the first place. I am so very sorry for your loss. There isn't much I can say because I know the pain you're feeling and
I can't stand when people who haven't been through it act like they know because they have NO IDEA. Your son and family are beautiful. I am so sorry.

♥cait


My Condolences  / Jackie C.
I came across this tribute site while browsing online. I just wanted to give you my condolences. Taylor is lucky to have a mom like you. From what I read on your tribute page he seemed like an exceptional, wonderful young man.  His legacy will continue through you and his family so please don't worry about anyone forgetting him. I send you lots of love and positive thoughts.
wishes for Abhi and Tay  / Enu Sngh (Son)
I WISH THAT I COULD SEE YOUR WIFE THE CAR THAT YOU WOULD OWN THE JOB YOU'D HAVE, THE LIFE YOU'D LIVE THE HOUSE YOU'D CALL YOUR HOME I WISH THAT I COULD SEE YOUR FACE THE LOOK IN YOUR EYE AS YOU TOOK YOUR FIRSTBORN IN YOUR ARMS AND COMFORTED HIS CRIES OR HOW YOU'D TEACH HIM IN YOUR WAY THE LESSONS OF THIS LIFE HOW TO SWIM AND HOW TO DRIVE AND HOW TO LOVE HIS WIFE DEATH HAS ROBBED YOU OF YOUR LIFE THE RISKS THAT YOU WOULD TAKE YOUR CHANCE TO HAVE A SECOND CHANCE TO LEARN FROM YOUR MISTAKES I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT YOU ARE GONE YOUR JOURNEY'S JUST BEGUN YOUR ROAD OF LIFE HAS BEEN CUT SHORT AND THERE'S SO MUCH LEFT UNDONE. Author unknown.
Still crying  / None

i am so sorry about your son....it breaks my heart to even think about it....i was reading your page and i couldnt stop crying....my deepest condolences


Thank you  / Dawn Schultz

 

Thank you for telling us about Taylor. I didn't know Taylor but was brought to this website after listening to a song on Youtube called "I drive your truck" by Lee Brice. 

My son Kerry died suddenly in January of this year, he was driving down the road on a Saturday afternoon when a large tree fell on his SUV, crushing it. He was trapped in the car until the jaws of life could come and remove him; he died in the hospital the next day. Kerry was also born in 1988, like Taylor, but he got to stay for nearly 7 more years. He would have been 24 in June. 

Your website has helped me realize that this raw pain we feel will never go away, and people truly will not understand. Some of the exact feeling I have been having you have put to words here. Thank you for creating this beautiful tribute to your son, and for helping others at the same time. I wish you peace <3

My Condolences  / Emily N.

I never knew your son, and I don't even know who you are. But I was browsing around the internet, and I happened to come across this website.

When a person passes on, everyone always says, "I'm so sorry!". I don't think this is the right thing to say. No one should feel sorry when a soul passes on---it means they're going on to be with God. They are in a better place and their pain has ended. There's a reason for everything and while it doesn't always make sense, we're going to understand someday. This probably doesn't make any sense, but I wanted to offer you some peace.

He's your gaurdian now. It's a cycle we have to go through as people. Adults have children and raise them. Then, the adults can no longer take care of themselves, so the roles reverse. I believe that living and dying goes the same way. You are here to be the guardian angel for your son while he's on this Earth. While Taylor shouldn't have died, he's playing a very important role now. He's watching over you.

I also wanted to reach out because I know what it's like to almost lose someone who's important to you. Last spring, my friend Lauren came home and found her sister Kristy on the bathroom floor, bleeding. She'd cut her wrist badly. The doctors fixed her, but when they put her on suicide watch they found multiple scars on her legs, arms, and abdomen. I remember the phone call to this day, saying that they didn't know if she was going to make it. They found various poems and speech-like writings about suicide, and a note in the closet describing what she'd done that night. Her diary talked about the cutting going on for a year and a half.

While I was on the phone with Lauren, I felt the walls closing in on me. I should have seen the signs, that's what I kept saying. Why didn't I notice something? Was there anything left that I could do?

She's better now but... She's different. Sometimes, it's hard to see if it's the anti-depressants making her off, or if she's just given up on trying to hide from the world. And every time I don't get a call back from her, or when I go to her house to hear nothing but the quiet, I fear that either I or somone is going to find her somewhere...

I'm bringing this up because your son's story made me think of her. I don't know why, but something about the way you described him, how loving you still are after all this time, made me think of the night I got that phone call. Maybe it's because my friendship with Kristy flashed before my eyes in a split-second when they told me what happened. I know it doesn't compare to losing a child---Kristy's still alive, after all, and we're just friends---but I wanted to share it.

She's turned to God. Kristy tells everyone to hold out hope, don't give up, don't forget. I think your son would say the same. I think he would be very proud of what you've done for him. I mean, those monuments, the memorials, this website? That's the kind of love I wished Kristy had felt the night she tried to kill herself. (Maybe that's the reason I was so compelled to write to you)

Again, he is with God and in a much better place. Each time you miss him, think to yourself, "We'll meet again someday." I've provided a song here (I have permission, don't worry) that I thought of... For your son, and for my friend.

"Who You'd Be Today" -- Kenny Chesney

Sunny days seem to hurt the most
Wear the pain like a heavy coat
I feel you everywhere I go
I see your smile, I see your face
I hear you laughing in the rain
Still can't believe you're gone

Chorus:

It ain't fair you died too young
Like a story that had just begun
The death tore the pages all away
God knows how I miss you
All the hell that I've been through
Just knowing no one could take your *place*(instead of 'love away')
Sometimes I wonder who you'd be today

Would you see the world?
Would you chase your dreams?
Settle down with a family?
I wonder, what would you name your babies?
Some days the sky's so blue
I feel like I can talk to you
And I know it might sound crazy

Chorus

Today, Today, Today
Today, Today, Today

Sunny days seem to hurt the most
I wear the pain like a heavy coat
The only thing that gives me hope
Is I know I'll see you again someday

Someday, Someday

For You - TAY'S Mom  / Enu Sngh (like my son )

Don't think of him as gone away - - his journey's just begun. Life holds so many facets - - this earth is only one... Just think of him as resting from the sorrows and the tears In a place of warmth and comfort where there are no days and years. Think how he must be wishing that we could know today How nothing but our sadness can really pass away. And think of him as living in the hearts of those he touched... For nothing loved is ever lost - - and he was loved so much. Author unknown


Beautiful Tribute  / Angela Nesbitt (Another Grieving Mother )
Thank you for sharing with all of us...It is a beautiful Tribute to your awesome Son...I too have had my only Son Levi, taken too early..so many similarities between the two boys..My son's time was 1989-2006..and I miss him with every breath, every thought, every beat of my heart......the Poem 'Normal' is amazing and speaks for every mourning parent.. Thank you again for sharing...
What a Grieving Mother Really Thinks...  / Lori B. (Mommy)


What a Grieving Mother Really Thinks...

Hello old friend,
Oh yes you know
I lost my child a while ago.
No, no please...don't look away
and change the subject
it's ok.
You see at first I couldn't feel
It took so long...but now it's real.
I hurt so much inside you see
I need to talk
Come sit with me?
You see,
I was numb for so very long
And people said,
"My she is so strong"
They did not know I couldn't feel
My broken heart made it all unreal.
but then one day, as I awoke
I clutched my chest,
Began to choke,
Such a scream,
Such a wail,
Broke from me....
My child!
My child!
The horror of reality.
But everyone has moved on, you see,
except for me.
Now when I need friends most of all,
Between us there now stands a wall.
My pain is more than they can bare,
When I mention my child
I see their blank stare.
"But I thought you were over it"
Their eyes seem to say -
No, no
I cannot listen to this, not today
So I smile and pretend...and say...
"Oh, I'm ok"
But inside I am crying
as I turn away.
And so my old friend,
I shall paint on that smile
As I have from the start.
You never knowing all the while
All I've said to you in my heart.

I did not write this. I borrowed this from a friend who posted it to facebook. She said it was from an unknown author.  If you know who wrote this, please let me know so I can give them the credit they deserve.

Time heals, but very so slightly  / Mom (mom)

They say that time is the great healer, but I don't really believe that anymore. Perhaps it does when it concerns a broken heart over lost affections from an old lover or friend. Perhaps your heart hurts for a year or two every once in a while after your parent has died. But a child????

You heart never heals.

That big bloody gapping wound which sucks the life out of you when you try to carry on just grows a light scab for a day or two and then it falls off. Except most wounds would leave just a slight scar, but this wound that is left after your child dies - it still bleeds profusely. It always bleeds. It bleeds when you are around your family as you watch all your young cousins, sisters, brothers, nieces and nephews grow up. It bleeds as you realize that you can't picture your child grown up - because they never did.

They will always be remembered in your mind wearing the same clothes they had on years ago. Or when you think about them they are wearing what they were wearing when they were buried. And the only possible way you can picture them in anything different is to go to the box of clothes you have secretly hidden away in your attic and take an article of clothing out of that box, hold it to your body tightly then lift it to your nose and breathe deep. Trying desperately to find ever the slightest scent of your dearest child - hoping and praying that if you breathe in hard enough perhaps when you breathe out you may be able to breathe some life into your child and they will magically appear.

If you have lost your only child, you have lost your immortality. You try to lie to yourself that you have so much to live for when in all honesty, you don't. You try to tell yourself that your child would want you to go on. Really? Really? Would any child really want their parent to not grieve over them? Would anyone anywhere want people to forget them? That they 'understand' that life goes on and it's perfectly fine if you never think of them again?

Bullshit.

NO ONE wants to be forgotten.

But my dear friends. Unless you have a very large endowment that PAYS others to not forget you - you will be forgotten.

Just like the old faded graves you happen upon when you linger in a graveyard to satisfy your morbid curiosity to see who lays beneath the brown piecemeal grass beneath your feet. And for one fleeting second you think, "Wow, that's old."

But nary a thought for that person and what his life once was or what destruction his death may have left behind.

The only thing that time has done in this case is wipe away the jagged letters on the tombstone so that people have an excuse not to remember - because the letters are faded like the memories of those we love.

Time does not heal.

Time drags the pain on and on and on until the peaceful slumber of death takes your last painful memory and locks it away forever.

 

Page 1 of 21   Next Pages Next 5 4 3 2  1   [Total of 416 records]
Bring the memories home by publishing your online memorial as a genuine hardcover keepsake