God’s 3 Roses
In Loving Memory of Avery Thomas, Noah Anderson, and Grace Elizabeth Dowell
God planted 3 beautiful roses here on earth
To bloom in Heaven shortly after their birth
They were tended so carefully and loved beyond measure
These three roses were so loved, a precious treasure.
They are Noah, Avery and Grace
And in Heaven they have a special place
Held by Jesus in His big rocking chair
There are none other in Heaven that are so fair
They watch over their family with loving care
And wait for the day when they will join them there
They watch over Christian, Ethan and Makenna every day
They wish they could be here to join in their play
But God called them home to be by His side
And in Heaven with Jesus they now abide
We’ll hold them in Heaven and be together once more
And cry tears of gladness and grieve for them no more
This poem was written for me on Avery, Grace and Noah's 2nd birthday by my dear friend Leigh Moss
Thank you Leigh, I will treasure this always!
You can read other beautiful poems Leigh has written, by going to her beautiful son Will's memorial.
William Moss
Parents' Prayer
Dear Lord,
We wanted so much to hold our babies close
and tell them all about you,
But we never got the chance...
So could you please hold them close,
and tell them all about us.
Author Unknown
The Elephant in the Room
There's an elephant in the room.
It is large and squatting, so it is hard to get around it.
Yet, we squeeze by with, "How are you?" and "I'm fine"....
And a thousand other forms of trivial chatter.
We talk about the weather.
We talk about work.
We talk about everything -- except the elephant in the room.
We all know it is there.
We are thinking about the elephant as we talk.
It is constantly on our minds,
For you see, it is a very big elephant.
But we do not talk about the elephant in the room.
Oh, please, say their names.
Oh, please, say "Avery, Grace and Noah" again.
Oh, please, let's talk about the elephant in the room.
For if we talk about their death,
Perhaps we can talk about their life.
Can I say "Avery, Grace and Noah" and not have you look away?
For if I cannot, you are leaving me
Alone... in a room... With an elephant.
By Terry Ketterling created using the name Barbara
The Pit Of Grief
The day my children died, I fell into the pit of grief.
My friends
Watched me struggle through daily life,
waiting for the person I once was to
arise from the pit,
not realizing "she" is gone forever.
The pit is full of darkness, heartache and despair,
it paralyses
your thoughts, movements and ability to ration.
The pit leaves you
forever changed,
unable to surface the person you once were.
Some of my pre-grief friends gather around the top of the pit,
waiting for the old me to appear before their eyes,
not understanding what's
taking me so long to emerge.
After all...in their eyes,
I've been in the pit
for quite sometime.
Yet, in my eyes, it seems as if I fell in only
yesterday.
Not all my pre-grief friends are gathered at the top of the pit.
Some are helping me with the climb out of the darkness.
They climb side by
side with me from time to time,
but mostly they climb ahead of me,
waiting
patiently at each plateau.
Even with these friends I sometimes wonder if they
are also,
waiting for the pre-grief me to magically appear before their
eyes.
Then, there are the casual acquaintances,
you know the ones who say,
"hi, how are you?" when the really don't care or really don't want to
know.
These people are the people, who sigh in relief,
that it was my
child who died and not theirs.
You know...the "better them, than me" attitude.
(not that I blame them for that sigh or attitude,
I too wish it happened
to someone other than myself).
My post-grief friends are the ones who climb with me,
side by side,
inch by inch,
out of the pit of grief.
They have no way of comparing the pit
climber,
to the pre-grief person, I once was.
You see, they started
at the bottom of the pit with me.
They are able to reassure me when I need
reassurance,
rest when I need resting,
and encourage me to move
forward when I don't have the strength.
They have no expectations,
no
memories and no recollection of how I "should" be.
They want me to get better, to smile more often and find joy in life,
but they've also accepted the
person I've become.
The "person" who is emerging from the pit.
~Cindy Early, November 1999