Confusion

To my sweet boy - A year ago today, you were still here. I talked to you on the phone. I said "I love you. See you tomorrow." A year ago tomorrow you died. Now every tomorrow is changed - sad. I miss you so much it hurts. Sometimes it was so difficult being your mom. You seemed to look for trouble. I tried to show you that life didn't have to be so hard. In the end I couldn't save you. I hope you know that you brought me so much joy and you certainly made life interesting for all of us. We miss you and love you with all of our hearts, my sweet boy. Death is so hard to understand. Where are you? Are you happy? Are you at peace? Do you know that we would do anything to get you back here with us? Did you know how much we loved you? I hope that this time on earth is really our "short time" together, and that we will be together again some day. I long to hold you in my arms, to touch your sweet face and feel the warmth of your love. Until we meet again, I will hold you in my heart. I will love you forever. Mom

MERRY SUNSHINE

My husband and I have temporary custody of a four year old girl. Her mom is struggling right now, so we are keeping the child (I'll refer to her as Merry Sunshine, Merry for short) until mom gets back on her feet. I drive her to pre-school each morning on my way to work, and pick her up from a sitter each afternoon. What a joy Merry has been to us. I love driving around and listening to her sweet voice singing to me from the back seat. She makes me smile. I sing songs to her that my mother sang to me and that I sang to my own children. It's funny how the words to silly songs come back to you after so many years. "Sweet Merry Sunshine. Life has not been easy for you. I pray for the strength to keep up with you." My heart has been heavy these past few months with the loss of my middle child. He was Merry's Godfather. I hope he can see, somehow, how well Merry is doing and how much we love her. He loved her so much.

WHERE ARE YOU, MY SWEET BOY?

The first anniversary of my son's death is quickly approaching and I find myself wanting to shut down. I have to keep working and taking care of my family, but all I want to do is give in to the sadness and cry - not just a few tears, but a river of tears. How can that be, when I have already cried a river? I just want my boy to come home to me. I know that he IS HOME, but I wasn't ready to let go. He was only thirty.