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Nicholas Robert Laycock
January 15, 1994 - November 16, 1994

A Grandmother's Lament
by Valerie Watson

On the 12th day of last month, my precious grandson, Nicholas' birthday came around once again. This year, there were six white flowers in his arrangement. That's how old he would have been had he not died in that terrible auto accident in November of '94 that robbed me of my daughter, also.

Deborah and Nichloas
I Long For Debbie

I long to hold her tight again.
I long to see her face.
I long to have her back in my life again.
I'm so lonely for her.

I couldn't help but wondering what this special day could have been like had he lived. A birthday party, a cake, lots of laughter, probably too many gifts. I can picture him tall, blonde, robust, into everything and full of life. To this day, it's still so hard to see children's toys in the stores, and realize that never again will we decide what to buy for him.

I placed the flowers on the grave, kissed his photo, kissed my hand and placed it on the cold grave stone, under which I knew that he lies in the arms of his mother. I wished him a happy birthday, told him that I love him, that I missed him, that wherever his soul was, he was happy and content.

His little handprint is still very much visible on the one pane of glass on my French doors. The rest of the door is clean except for that one pane; it will stay there forever. I remember how he used to pull himself up and walk along --- such wonderful memories.

One day when I'm feeling emotionally strong, I will bring down all of this baby equipment, and give it away. There are also presents and clothes that are still in boxes unopened.

He didn't make his first Christmas. Oh! What a special day it would have been. He probably would have pulled off ornaments from the tree, creating havoc all around. His eyes would have opened wide with astonishment at all the twinkling lights and shiny ornaments. Then naturally, he would have discarded the toys and had a great experience playing with empty boxes and screwed up wrapping paper.

Instead of imagining what could have been, I will remember and savor those 10 short months of reality, the pleasures he brought his granddad and me, the happiness and fulfillment of life's normal cycle --- the child of my child, blood of my blood, life of my life --- my grandson, Nicholas.

          

I long to hear her wonderful laugh.
I long to share little problems with her.
I long to see her car coming down the street;
I'm so lonely for her.

I long to have our lunches together.
I long to go shopping with her.
I long to pop over and ivsit with her.
I'm so lonely for her.

I long to have her call and suggest a day out.
I long for our closeness together.
I long for our holidays together.
I'm so lonely for her.

I long for our gossip sessions.
I long to see her walk in my door.
I long to share all my secrets with her.
I'm so lonely for her.

I long for Joanne to have a big sister again.
I long for my girls to be together again.
I long for Joanne to be happy again.
We're so lonely for her.

I long to wake up and it be a normal day again.
I long for my husband to be himself again.
I long for Debbie to call my son "Big Bro" again.
We're so lonely for her.

I long for my grandson - Nicholas.
I long to breath that "just bathed' smell.
I long for my house to be filled with toys again.
We're so lonely for them.

I long for what I cannot have.
I long for the impossible.
I long for the clock to turn back that day.
Why did my children have to die?

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