Share your Courage Stories:
On your journey through grief, in the struggle to survive,
here is where you can tell the world how you are:
Becoming Bigger Than Your Pain
This is my gift to you.
I will post pictures and stories here that are related to how you are healing. Reading about the courage of others often helps someone to have the strength to emerge from the darkness of their pain and move forward in their grief. Simply email me your stories or music!
“A truly good friend, is someone that makes you feel good about yourself.” ~Sandi T
I can either choose to cry because they are no longer in my arms,
or smile because for a short time they were. ~Sandy Brosam
What helps you to smile again?
* * * * *
Happy memories of loved ones!
I asked my Facebook friends for their happy memories, and listed below are the responses. I also had a few who told me that they were in too much pain to remember happy times. I disagree. In the depths of pain is where we need them the most. At first I had to literally force myself to remember the happy peaceful memories, because I was allowing pain to control my thoughts. As I offer my support to all those grieving, the most important thing I can share with you is that we have choices. It may not always feel like we do, but each day we make the choice on how to spend that day. We cannot control what happens to us or our loved ones, but we can control how we react to what happens. We can get lost in the pain, as I was for a very long time, or we can choose to start healing, one breath at a time. The mind is obedient, if you tell it, I hurt too much to go on, it will say, OK…if you tell it I am going to make it thru this day, and find something to smile about, it will say OK…it is truly your choice. So choose to remember happier times to help push the pain away.
Pam~ My Joe, loved the water, fishing, jet skiing, anything to do with water. He loved animals never turned one away. He would befriend anyone and the only requirement was that he wanted nothing in return but there friendship. He had such a kind heart, and he was always looking out for me. He felt like he was suppose to protect me. Always said I love you. He was such a giving person and never wanted anything in return. He graduated with his license in Heavy Equipment Operator this was a huge achievement for him. I could go on forever, first time since he passed I have thought about happy times, always dwelling on that horrible Monday. You can add lib for me, the tears are flowing now and my mind is going blank. Thank you so much, sending love, Pam.
Oh Pam…hugs! I am glad that I was able to turn some of the pain away as you start thinking of happier times. It is truly hard, I know…but when you turn your focus to the better times and away from the pain, you truly have an easier time in your journey. Fill you heart with love and good memories, and push that ugly stuff out! Sending you cyber hugs, feel it! Blessings, ~Sandy
Pam~ Thank you Sandy, it is so hard to remember the good when such horrific things have happened this past year. Thank you for including my Joe you will never know how much this means to me. Sending hugs from Vegas…Pam and Joe
Christy~ My grandpa~ When I would visit during the summer, he would tell us that we were going for a ride. When I would ask where, he would say “we’re going crazy”. We all knew that meant we were going for ice cream. My grandma would yell at him not to feed us junk before dinner, he would laugh after we got the ice cream and say “now, don’t tell grandma.” It was always so much fun.
Sandi~ When my Nick was in preschool they did a “paper” about their moms for mothers day… one of the things Nick had the teacher write down was that I was so smart I even taught him what antiques were, that I fed him watermelon, and that he loved… me all the way to his back, because that’s how far he could stretch out his arms…..
D.d. Flynn~ Christi Michelle Nowak 2/5/85-10/5/05 had a 3-syllable way of saying “mom”. I loved it so much! Music to my ears! She was either being playful with me, or wanted to talk to me and trusted me. I loved both scenarios!
Cindy~ When B.J. was a teenager the Youth from our Church would decorate the trees around our Court House with lights for the Christmas Season as a fund raiser for their Youth trips during the month of November. The last year they did it before B.J. left I went down and helped them. Oh it was awful! Birds would roost in those trees so you can just imagine what it was like crawling up in them to hang those lights. Well there’s this silly song we use to sing when B.J. was still here about a man singing at an outside Church Revival. While he was singing a bug flew in his mouth and he just gulped it down and kept on singing without ever missing a beat. The main course goes like this…
If eating bugs would save a soul,
I’d eat a bunch now don’t you know!
Just to baptize a few in Jesus’ name.
Well we were not eating bugs that day…it was the bird poop! LOL
So me and B.J. starting singing our own version of the song like this…
If eating bird poop would save a soul,
I’d eat a bunch now don’t you know!
Just to baptize a few in Jesus’ name.
What fun we had entertaining everyone else while we worked.
Teresa~ My daughter Emily, 7/29/86-8/12/03, has been a cheerleader since she was able to walk, in June 2003 her Varisity Cheerleading squad went to Mercer University for their UCA Cheer Camp, she was the only one on her squad to make the UCA AllStars one of the happiest days of her life. I was so proud of her and she was so happy. One of my nicest memories was when she told me that I was and Sarah’s mom were the nicest moms, she knew how the other cheer moms treated their daughters, she thought it was terrible and she made sure she told me on several occasions that I was one of the nicest moms, she always made me feel good. She loved me so much, I love her so much too.
Mark~ My son gave me a valentine when he was 7 that he shellacked to a board that he burned into it a picture of Garfield the Cat. I used to collect them, he got a kick out of the collecting… I think they did this in Cub Scouts… God I miss him…...
Louise~ To my sister’s in Grief I wish you a gentle day with beautiful memories of your beloved child. May you feel the love and light from your child always. They are only a whisper away. They are just around the bend and I promise you we will all be reunited again.
Love never ends.
I would like to play this special song in honor of my daughter Keren today and for all of our children. She loved this song when she heard me play the CD and she would always say to me “mom play play our song.” She said that to me about two weeks before she died I couldn’t listen to the song for well over a year after she passed. It is still very hard. One night I looked it up on YouTube and watched the video and I couldn’t believe my eyes! The girl that sings the song and that is on the video looks so much like Keren. I mean this women could be Keren’s older sister that is how much they look alike. I still can’t listen to the song too often but the words have so much meaning and I feel it was another sign from Keren. It is like Keren is telling me she is only a whisper away. All our children are waiting for us.
They are just a song away…
Partial lyrics to “Send Me a Song”:
Take the wave now and know that you’re free
Turn your back the land, face the sea
Face the wind now, so wild and so strong
When you think of me, wave to me and send me song
Louise shares her love to all with her support forum:
Grief Support Forum
Life is a Simple Walk in the Woods-
I was always told that the ‘first year’ would be the hardest. I set my sights on surviving through the first anniversary of Ross’ death, telling myself that it would all be downhill from there. If I could just keep going long enough to scale that summit!
Everyone talked about that ‘path of grief’ being full of ups-and-downs, hills-and-valleys. “You can’t go around it, you HAVE to go through it!” I was surprised to find that my path was occasionally littered with small remains of Ross’ life – a Power Ranger, The Lion King, a box of Raisin Bran. It hurt when I stumbled upon them but I picked them up and cherished them, carrying them on my way.
I was also told that my husband and I would not walk the same path. We started out fine, trudging through the woods, holding hands, telling ourselves that we’ve been through sixteen years together, we’d be just fine. His path slowly led away from me, but seemed to run parallel for a time – I’d catch a glimpse of him in the woods every once-in-a-while. All of a sudden, his path would cross mine. I’d reach the top of a steep hill and he’d be standing there in my way! More than once, I’ve had to shove him into the weeds so that I could continue on my journey.
Well, then came that fateful First Anniversary. I scaled that mountain! I sat on the very top of that enormous peak, congratulating myself on a job well-done. My husband was nowhere to be seen, I sat there all alone with my pile of Mickey Mouse clothes, little metal cars, well-meaning friends. I had done it! It was incredibly hard work, insurmountable at times, but here I was still alive, without my child!
Without my child! I felt my heart grow cold as I surveyed the path ahead -the rest of my life. The terrain was just as treacherous as the past twelvemonths! I guess I expected it to be sun-lit fields of flowers from then-on, after all, everyone said “just get through that first year”! I didn’t know that I had to do this forever!
I sat on that peak for quite sometime. I yelled at God for awhile, as I was fairly close to Heaven at that point. I hugged all my son’s treasures that I carried with me, his precious memory warmed my cold, cold heart, and I searched for any other movement in the valley below. In the distance, I could see other peaks along my path, some maybe as tall as where I sat. I also began to see tiny clearings where the sun was shining. As my tears slowed, I became aware of other paths winding through the landscape – hundreds of them – each belonging to a different parent. I carefully packed my treasures in my heart, neatly so that none would break, and started running down the hill, headlong into the second year of forever.
Peg Rousar-Thompson – In memory of Ross…
Though HIS smile is gone forever,
And HIS hand I cannot touch,
I still have so many memories,
Of the one I love so much.
HIS memory is my keepsake,
With which I’ll never part.
God has HIM in HIS keeping,
I have HIM in my HEART.
I love U WILLY♥ Denise~
Sandi T~ Learning to Live Again – A burning coal in one hand while the other one simultaneously holds your smiles.
I have a daughter and 3 grandchildren I have had as the only only only reason I could force myself to stay alive. I was relieved when someone wrote on here you NEVER get OVER IT, but you do learn to adjust and eventually simultaneously live a quality life while the hole is always burning in your heart. It’s such a delicate balancing act and of course only comes with time. One foot in front of the other is all you should expect for now. But keep your eye on the horizon for the time that will come when he will help you find your smile again….even while you still want to die… I never want to be where my son is not. But here I am and here he’s not. I have to bare the pain even though I would much rather NOT. BUT… life holds both this evil tragedy that can live in our heart and soul BUT it also holds an equal amount of goodness; given and received. That’s what I had to nurture to be able to bare life: Goodness in people. Feel it. Look for it. Give it. Receive it. It is the only thing to balance the pain… My pain lessons each time I try to do someone some good act somehow, anyway I can. Even if it’s just paying a lonely person a visit; or giving them a compliment. It may not make much sense but it helped me. I pray for you and the load you are carrying. Take good care and put cushy slippers on while you put one foot in front of the other to soften each step.
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
I can hardly believe it, you’re really not here, weeks blend into months and months into years. You promised you’d stay, I know how you tried, but God needed you more so I stepped aside. I didn’t collapse or fall completely apart, but still deep inside, there’s a hole in my heart. I try to fight it and hold back the tears, never give in to the grief and the tears. When those times come I need to talk, just hear your voice or go for a walk. We don’t need any wires, don’t need a dial tone, you’re always there when I use Heaven’s Phone. It’ll come out of nowhere, a smell or a sound, all at once I’m reminded that you’re not around. There’s much to remember, there’s much to forget, you left us too soon is my only regret. The sadness consumes me as I remember back when, we believed in tomorrows that would never end. I try to fight it, hold back the tears, never give in to the grief and the tears. When those times come I need to talk, just hear your voice or go for a walk. We don’t need any wires, don’t need a dial tone, you’re always there when I use Heaven’s Phone. ♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
~Perfect picture to fit perfect poem~
~Our Davey on PHONE as usual when home~Probably with some beautiful girl…:)~
~May 2001~20 years young~ :'((((
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥ ♥ ʚϊɞ ♥ ♥ ʚϊɞ ♥ ♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
Shared by: Sonny Grosso and Debbie-Sarah Karsch
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥ Our New “Normal” ~ A Path We Did NOT Choose ♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥ This is my new path. It was not a path of my choice, but it is a path I must walk mindfully with intention. It is a journey through grief that takes time. Every cell in my body aches and longs to be with my beloved child. I may be impatient, distracted, frustrating, and unfocused. I may get angry more easily, or I may seem hopeless. I will shed many, many, many tears. I won’t smile as often as my old self. Smiling hurts now. Most everything hurts some days, even breathing. But please, just sit beside me. Say nothing. Do not offer a cure. Or a pill, or a word, or a potion. Witness my suffering and don’t turn away from me. Please be gentle with me. Please, self, be gentle with me, too. I will not ever “get over it” so please don’t urge me down that path. Even if it seems like I am having a good day, maybe I am even able to smile for a moment, the pain is just beneath the surface of my skin. Some days, I feel paralyzed. My chest has a nearly constant sinking pain and sometimes I feel as if I will explode from the grief. This is affecting me as a woman, a mother, a human being. It affects every aspect of me: spiritually, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. Remember that grief is as personal to each individual as a fingerprint. Don’t tell me how I should or shouldn’t be doing it or that I should or shouldn’t “feel better by now.” Don’t tell me what’s right or wrong. I’m doing it my way, in my time. If I am to survive this, I must do what is best for me. Surviving this means seeing life’s meaning change and evolve. What I knew to be true or absolute or real or fair about the world has been challenged so I’m finding my way, moment-to-moment in this new place. Things that once seemed important to me are barely thoughts any longer. I notice life’s suffering more- hungry children, the homeless and the destitute, a mother’s harsh voice toward her young child or by an elderly person struggling with the door. So many things I struggle to understand. Don’t tell me that “God has a plan” for me. This, my friend, is between me and my God. Those platitudes seem far too easy to slip from the mouths of those who tuck their own child into a safe, warm bed at night: Can you begin to imagine your own child, flesh of your flesh, lying lifeless in a casket, when “goodbye” means you’ll never see them on this Earth again? Grieving mothers- and fathers- and grandparents- and siblings won’t wake up one day with everything ’okay’ and life back to normal. I have a new normal now. Oh, perhaps as time passes, I will discover new meanings and insights about what my child’s death means to me. Perhaps, one day, when I am very, very old, I will say that time has truly helped to heal my broken heart. But always remember that not a second of any minute of any hour of any day passes when I am not aware of the presence of her absence, no matter how many years lurk over my shoulder… OUR LOVE NEVER DIES!…..♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
Shared on FB by: Disa West Prudden
And here are some songs on YouTube that I like to listen to, there are so many that bring instant tears, and rip me apart, yet these are touching without tears… SONGS
Understanding Secondary Losses in Grief
Loss forever changes the world of the bereaved. It’s a new environment, personal and social, an environment where the lost object is no longer present. An ending has occurred that demands new beginnings. Before that happens, a period of transition takes place. During this time, the bereaved closely examines what has been lost and what has been gained as a consequence of the ending. What has actually changed? What continues the same? What is new? What experiences, roles, expectations, values, opportunities, fantasies are to be given up? What new ones must be assumed?
All of the current and potential losses that follow as a result of the loss are to be identified. Each identified secondary loss requires its own grief response. Unfinished business that involves the loss is also to be identified. Appropriate ways to adjust and accommodate are sought out.
It is often difficult for the family and friends of an individual who has recently experienced the loss of a loved one to understand why the grieving process lasts so long. Family and friends want to see their loved one be happy and “get on with life.” It is important, therefore, to be aware of the many secondary losses that can accompany grief. This awareness may help the grieving person, as well as others who care about this individual, to be more patient and move more gently during this period of grief – which often can last at least two to five years.
The following are some of the many different losses a person may experience after the death of a loved one:
1. Loss of the Loved One – the loss that is obvious, and consequently considered by many to be the only loss.
2. Loss of a Large Chunk of Self – the part of the self that was given to the other person in love, and that at death seems to be violently wrenched from one’s being.
3. Loss of Identity – the “roles of service” used in the relationship: the feeling of wholeness that is lost when the other person is no longer present and the role is no longer played.
4. Loss of Self-Confidence – the failure to recognize one’s own personal wholeness, leading to feelings of inadequacy, of not being able to do anything right.
5. Loss of Chosen Lifestyle – being forced to begin a new way of life despite one’s personal wishes or choice (e.g. being single again; being childless again).
6. Loss of Security – the uncertainty of not knowing what to expect, what will happen next, or how one will emotionally react or respond.
7. Loss of Feeling Safe – the vulnerability of feeling exposed to the cold winds of life all alone.
8. Loss of a Known Family Structure – the instant change in family composition.
9. Loss of the Familiar Way of Relating to/with Family and Friends – the avoidance of family and friends stemming from their not knowing how to respond to the bereaved’s changed interests, as well as the sadness and anger that often are felt by the bereaved.
10. Loss of the Past – despite the support and acceptance of new friends and acquaintances, their lack of a sense of the bereaved’s past journey of his/her history with the deceased.
11. Loss of the Future – the fear of thinking ahead, of imagining next year or next month or next week without the loved one; the fear that whatever future there is will be as painful as the present moment.
12. Loss of Direction – the sense that nothing seems to matter anymore, that there is no purpose in life.
13. Loss of Dreams – the disappearance of all those plans: for “spending the rest of my life with the person I love,” of “seeing my child grow up,” of “having my parents be grandparents.”
14. Loss of Trust – the insecurity that interferes with trusting oneself, and makes trusting anyone else nearly impossible.
15. Loss of Sharing with a Loved One – having no one (a best friend, a confidant) to listen to the little things (and the big events) of day-to-day living, or to share in the “growing-up years” of a child.
16. Loss of Ability to Focus – the difficulty in focusing on what seems to be the “non-essentials” of the rest of life because one’s entire being is so affected by the loss.
17. Loss of Ability to See Choices – the sense that the bereaved has no control at all over his/her life, since the new life-style was not a conscious choice.
18. Loss of Ability to Make Decisions – the insecurity and lack of trust in oneself that leads to the looking to others for direction and advice (“What should I do?”), followed by confusion and indecision because everyone gives a different answer.
19. Loss of A Sense of Humor – the failure to see anything as funny because one of the most important people in one’s life is no longer around.
20. Loss of Health – the physical problems resulting from the emotional stress and strain of grief work: nausea, migraine headaches, muscle knots, back problems, etc.
21. Loss of Inner Happiness and Joy – the difficulty in recognizing happiness in one’s own life coupled with the normal tendency to look outside oneself for a source of inner happiness.
22. Loss of Patience with Self – the desire to feel better now coupled with feelings of inadequacy and failure, as the feelings of grief normally last for two to five years.
It is very important to note that some individuals may experience additional losses not mentioned in this list, and some of the losses listed might not be experienced by everyone who is grieving. This list is presented to help all of us (grievers, friends, relatives and helpers) understand why nothing can replace the grieving process: the period of time it takes for the wound of loss to become a scar, and for the darkness of grief to become the light of life.
– Adapted from “Levels of Loss” by Sr. Mary Agnes Sermersheim, OSB, in Hope Line Newsletter, September 2003, Hope for Bereaved – Shared on facebook by Louise L
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥ This is ‘IT’ ♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
You Should Be Over “IT”…But What Is “IT”?
It’s been over a year now, you should be over it. What exactly is “IT”? But do people who have never suffered loss really know what “IT” is?
To Us, the Bereaved…
“IT” is the day after the funeral, and your world caves in with reality of the loss.
“IT” is Thanksgiving Day, trying to find something to be thankful for.
“IT” is Christmas without the Merry, and New Years without the Happy.
“IT” is your first day back to work when every minute you are afraid you will burst into tears.
“IT” is their birthday, but there is no them to celebrate.
“IT” is Valentine’s Day only this time no hearts and flowers to share with them, and your heart is broken.
“IT” is your birthday, and there is still no them to celebrate it with.
“IT” is springtime when everything comes alive except you, that is.
“IT” is Easter and everyone is singing “Let us Rejoice and be Glad” but there is no rejoicing and no glad in your heart.
“IT” is Mother’s Day and you sadly remember how happy being a Mother of four beautiful children made you feel, or how you celebrated with ALL your children.
“IT” is Father’s Day and you sadly remember how happy being a Father of four beautiful children made you feel, or how you rejoiced with your spouse over the birth’s of ALL your children.
“IT” is the 4th of July and the celebrations remind you just how little you feel you have to celebrate now.
“IT” is vacation time and you just stay home, because there is nowhere to go to not feel so empty.
“IT” is Halloween and you pass out candy, but you remember all the memories of past happy times together and it makes you very sad.
“IT” is seeing milestones in your life progress and pass and your loved one is gone, never to share them with.
“IT” is seeing your remaining children get married, have children, all the milestones in their lives, and you are not there to rejoice with us.
“IT” is looking at the moon and wondering if they see the same moon like the two of us always did in the past.
“IT” is receiving the first wedding invitation to one of their friend’s wedding and knowing that life goes on without them – our beloved one.
“IT” is going back into that church for the first time and remembering, but not remembering and feeling that all eyes are on you.
“IT” is going to another funeral for the first time and feeling yourself shaking all over, too distraught to stay, but unable to leave.
“IT” is tryin to do all the things you always did, plus all the things you had hoped to do together, and doing it all when all of your energy has been used for grieving.
“IT” is being strong when you really feel weak.
“IT” is dealing with all the legality of estates and such when all you want to do is hibernate .
“IT” is a whole big bunch of stuff you didn’t ask for, didn’t want and can’t even give away.
“IT” is going to the cemetery and seeing the monument with their name or even face. and it hits you in the face that THlS IS REAL!
“IT” is feeling like you are betraying your child when you get begin to give some of their personal belongings away.
“IT” is approaching the first Angelversary of their passing and each one to come, and reliving it all – oh yes, some things might be better but the void is no less, forever.
“IT” is people forgetting and you cry, and people remembering and you cry.
“IT” is a future of unknowns and uncertainties and emptiness.
“IT” is in the first glimpse of sunrise and in your last waking breath, and even finds ways to creep into your sleep and haunt you in your dreams …
So maybe when someone tells you that you should be over “IT” by now, you should just tell them what “IT” really is! Do any of you understand ‘IT’ now???
Some Minor Editing by Karren Fleet…
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥ David Joshua Fleet ♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
~May 2nd, 1981 ~ May 8th, 2004~
~ Beloved Son ~ Brave Hero~
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
This is my path. It was not a path of my choice, but it is a path I must walk mindfully with intention. It is a journey through grief that takes time. Every cell in my body aches and longs to be with my beloved child. I may be impatient, distracted, frustrating, and unfocused. I may get angry more easily, or I may seem… hopeless. I will shed many, many, many tears. I won’t smile as often as my old self. Smiling hurts now. Most everything hurts some days, even breathing. But please, just sit beside me. Say nothing. Do not offer a cure. Or a pill, or a word, or a potion.Witness my suffering and don’t turn away from me.Please be gentle with me.Please, self, be gentle with me, too.I will not ever “get over it” so please don’t urge me down that path. Even if it seems like I am having a good day, maybe I am even able to smile for a moment, the pain is just beneath the surface of my skin. Some days, I feel paralyzed. My chest has a nearly constant sinking pain and sometimes I feel as if I will explode from the grief. This is affecting me as a woman, a mother, a human being. It affects every aspect of me: spiritually, physically, mentally, and emotionally. I barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. Remember that grief is as personal to each individual as a fingerprint. Don’t tell me how I should or shouldn’t be doing it or that I should or shouldn’t “feel better by now.” Don’t tell me what’s right or wrong. I’m doing it my way, in my time. If I am to survive this, I must do what is best for me.Surviving this means seeing life’s meaning change and evolve. What I knew to be true or absolute or real or fair about the world has been challenged so I’m finding my way, moment-to-moment in this new place. Things that once seemed important to me are barely thoughts any longer. I notice life’s suffering more- hungry children, the homeless and the destitute, a mother’s harsh voice toward her young child or by an elderly person struggling with the door. So many things I struggle to understand.Don’t tell me that “God has a plan” for me. This, my friend, is between me and my God.Those platitudes seem far too easy to slip from the mouths of those who tuck their own child into a safe, warm bed at night: Can you begin to imagine your own child, flesh of your flesh, lying lifeless in a casket, when “goodbye” means you’ll never see them on this Earth again? Grieving mothers- and fathers- and grandparents- and siblings won’t wake up one day with everything ’okay’ and life back to normal. I have a new normal now. Oh, perhaps as time passes, I will discover new meanings and insights about what my child’s death means to me. Perhaps, one day, when I am very, very old, I will say that time has truly helped to heal my broken heart. But always remember that not a second of any minute of any hour of any day passes when I am not aware of the presence of her absence, no matter how many years lurk over my shoulder. Love never dies. ~Author Unknown
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
“Christmas Without You”
The lights are blinking merrily
The tinsel’s on the tree
It sits there in the window For all the world to see.
The house is filled with holly And pinecone scents the air
The Christmas cards keep coming
Each one is hung with care.
The gifts are tied with ribbons red And topped with pretty bows I’m done with all the details
As far as Christmas goes.
The fire is softly glowing I think about your touch
But Christmas isn’t Christmas I miss you oh, so much.
If I could have just anything My Christmas wish would be
To wake up in the morning And find you here with me.
I reminisce our Christmas’ past The joy and love we shared
Moonlit walks and midnight talks
And ways you showed you cared.
Staring at your picture I long to be set free
Tonight the tears are streaming As I hold it next to me.
Flakes of snow swirl through the air I’m braced for stormy weather I wait for brighter days ahead
When we can be together.
So hold a place in heaven dear
Someday when life is through I’ll be the Christmas angel Who shares this day with you.
Author/Written By: Marilyn Ferguson ©2002
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
Posted by Laurie D on facebook:
The Invisible Cord
We are connected,
My child and I,
by An invisible cord
Not seen by the eye.
It’s not like the cord
That connects us ’til birth
This cord can’t been seen
By any on Earth.
This cord does its work
Right from the start.
It binds us together
Attached to my heart.
I know that it’s there
Though no one can see
The invisible cord
From my child to me.
The strength of this cord
Is hard to describe.
It can’t be destroyed
It can’t be denied.
It’s stronger than any cord
Man could create
It withstands the test
Can hold any weight.
And though you are gone,
Though you’re not here with me,
The cord is still there
But no one can see.
It pulls at my heart
I am bruised…
I am sore,
But this cord is my lifeline
As never before.
I am thankful that God
Connects us this way
♥ ʚϊɞ ♥
Strength & Courage
It takes strength to be firm.
It takes courage to be gentle.
It takes strength to stand guard.
It takes courage to let down your guard.
It takes strength to conquer.
It takes courage to surrender.
It takes strength to be certain.
It takes courage to have doubt.
It takes strength to fit in.
It takes courage to stand out.
It takes strength to feel a friend’s pain.
It takes courage to feel your own pain.
It takes strength to hide your own pains.
It takes courage to show them.
It takes strength to endure abuse.
It takes courage to stop it.
It takes strength to stand alone.
It takes courage to lean on another.
It takes strength to love.
It takes courage to be loved.
It takes strength to survive.
It takes courage to live.
Love and Light to all… Sandy