... and we start a new month ... putting more and more distance between us and our beloved son and daughter. A whole new calendar? Everything is poignant, my dear ... any changes that keep slapping us with reality of our loss, the irreversible changes that have occured and our powerlessness to d'o anything to make it different.
I had to pack away last year's Christmas tree - the last one my son saw and put away the decorations he'd helped me put out. There would be no more shared trees or shared moments of decorating.
The calendar I have up in the kitchen is one I bought as a stocking stuffer for him last Christmas. He hadn't gotten around to putting it up on the wall yet. He never used it. Another stab in the heart. So I put it up on the kitchen wall. I didn't want to throw away an unused calendar that I had given to my son. However, now the year is done and the calendar is useless.
Unlike my previous calendars, filled with appointment dates - this calendar had no markings. I didn't go many places, except to work and the doctor. I didn't entertain or go out. And there were no special days to celebrate. I used to love the kitchen calendar - marked with teacher conferences, soccer games, dentist appointments, special days of celebrations, notations of expected guests. It was quite colofrul and the sign of a very busy household!
I only just watched this calendar, out of the side of my eye, as if it were now part of the conspiracy, too - the conspiracy to put more and more time between the moment I last saw, talked to and held my son; the conspiracy to keep moving on with life.
I will need to recycle the calendar realistically. It's time for a new month and a whole new year. But now I'm saying goodbye to the last year that contained memories of my son and something inside me makes me want to cling to every and anything that has anything to do with him.
The calendar ... it's just paper with beautiful photos of wolves. He liked Native American things and eagles and wolves. Unseen to others who might look at it, however, it contains the dates of the last nine days he was alive. It contains the date of that morning I was at work and received a phone call from the sheriff giving me news that would cause me to actually collapse and my whole world to spin out of control. It contains the date of our appointment at the funeral home where I would view my son's body for the last time. The date of his memorial service. The date of his 33rd birthday which he wouldn't like to celebrate. The dates of his two daughters' birthdays that came up right after his - and the dates in between their birthdays where he was hoping to get back to Iowa to celebrate with them and see and hold them again. He had only been able to talk by phone to them for over a year and a half before he died. He had missed them desperately every single day.
There's Easter - my beloved Matthew would take me to services during that holiday because I wanted to be at church but couldn't actually get myself there on my own. Matthew and I would take communion together for the last time on Good Friday and I would watch him happily perform in a wonderful, comforting and inspirational cantata with the choir.
I would relate to Mary, mother of Jesus, that Easter with a new deeper understanding. She lost her son at approximately the same age. She watched and knew about his suffering before he died, too. Mary, however, was given some peace and hope and joy just a few days later. I'm still waiting for God to give me just the teeniest of signs that all is well.
Mother's Day would follow. No card from Michael this year and he had never failed to give me a special card he had made or purchased. Fourth of July - our annual family gathering which he loved so much - I could only just sit on the sidelines this year. I didn't even really want to attend but I just keep trying to do these things which are customary and traditional and part of normal livng.
The September page contains more dates of pain - my last phone conversation with Matthew, his death on the 14th (unknown to me at the time), my surgery on the 18th (I thought he was praying for me all that day), the 21st when he was supposed to be coming home and would come to see me and bring me home from my mother's. All those phone calls I kept making to a phone that wouldn't answer. And that last call to his cell when the recording told me the cell phone had been disconnected. The frantic call to one of his daughters to find out where Matthew was and what was going on.
The first Thanksgiving without Michael and Matthew. Matthew's memorial service. Christmas Eve. Christmas Day. New Year's Eve....
A lot of people think I'm strong and brave. I suppose from the outside they may well get that idea. Inside I'm so tired and hurting, still hoping that someone will make me wake up to find this was all a bad dream. I cry often, almost daily, when I'm alone. Almost anything can trigger it - even just glancing at that calendar on the wall.
It has been a year of sorrow. Ah, that reminds me - my given pagaen name is Deidre, of the Sorrows - a name selected for me by a very kind and wise man many years before this all came to be. He also told me tjat the panther was my spirit guide and the wolf was my abiding friend.
I stop at the doorway to the New Year. I don't want to enter and leave 2007. But there is no lingering and no going backwards. There will be the first anniversary of each of their deaths this year, and more holidays to celebrate without them. There is no longer a relationship with possiblities of happiness and comfort in the future now.
I reach up to take down the calendar and walk by the recycling basket. I keep walking right on by it down to my room. I open the closet and pull out a plastic box and place the calendar inside. At least for now..
The Loss Of A Child
The moment that I knew you had died,
My heart split in two,
The one side filled with memories,
The other died with you.
I often lay awake at night,
When the world is fast asleep,
And take a walk down memory lane,
With tears upon my cheek.
Remembering you is easy,
I do it every day,
But missing you is a heartache,
That never goes away.
I hold you tightly within my heart,
And there you will remain,
Life has gone on without you,
But it never will be the same.
For those who still have their children,
Treat them with tender care,
You will never know the emptiness,
As when you turn and they are not there.
Don't tell me that you understand,
don't tell me that you know.
Don't tell me that I will survive,
How I will surely grow.
Don't tell me this is just a test,
That I am truly blessed.
That I am chosen for the task,
Apart from all the rest.
Don't come at me with answers
That can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass,
That I will soon be free.
Don't stand in pious judgment
the bonds I must untie,
Don't tell me how to grieve,
Don't tell me when to cry.
Accept me in my ups and downs,
need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry
And say, "My friend, I care
Author unknown
My heart split in two,
The one side filled with memories,
The other died with you.
I often lay awake at night,
When the world is fast asleep,
And take a walk down memory lane,
With tears upon my cheek.
Remembering you is easy,
I do it every day,
But missing you is a heartache,
That never goes away.
I hold you tightly within my heart,
And there you will remain,
Life has gone on without you,
But it never will be the same.
For those who still have their children,
Treat them with tender care,
You will never know the emptiness,
As when you turn and they are not there.
Don't tell me that you understand,
don't tell me that you know.
Don't tell me that I will survive,
How I will surely grow.
Don't tell me this is just a test,
That I am truly blessed.
That I am chosen for the task,
Apart from all the rest.
Don't come at me with answers
That can only come from me,
Don't tell me how my grief will pass,
That I will soon be free.
Don't stand in pious judgment
the bonds I must untie,
Don't tell me how to grieve,
Don't tell me when to cry.
Accept me in my ups and downs,
need someone to share,
Just hold my hand and let me cry
And say, "My friend, I care
Author unknown
in my car
in my car the tears flow free
away from everyone else but me
alone in my car with only my sorrow
i keep hoping it won't be the same tomorrow
but it is and as i drive home from work each day
it is strength that i beg for each time that i pray
god, let me make it just one more mile
on this road of life without my child
by renee williams
Member of lossofachild2 grief support group
away from everyone else but me
alone in my car with only my sorrow
i keep hoping it won't be the same tomorrow
but it is and as i drive home from work each day
it is strength that i beg for each time that i pray
god, let me make it just one more mile
on this road of life without my child
by renee williams
Member of lossofachild2 grief support group
Thanks for stopping by!
Thanks for stopping by my Grief Support Blog! This blog will be added to as new resources are discovered and examined, as I find new poetry, or write new articles. Please stop back by again!
A blog seems to scroll on forever as you add to it, and older articles are "archived". Scroll to the bottom of the page and click on a link to see older articles. You'll then be taken to the top of the blog again and will have to scroll down the page to see the older articles now placed on the page.
CONTENTS
Poems and Submissions by Others...
~One More Mile, Renee Williams
~A Pair of Shoes, Anonymous
~God Saw You, Anonymous
~How Am I?, by Jennifer Bonner
~How We Survive, by Mark Rickerby
~Please See Me Through My Tears, Kelly Osmont
~To One In Sorrow, Grace Noll Crowell
Memorials...
~Michael Aaron Botten
~Matthew Robert Slasor
Resources
~Two More Resources
~Support Groups Online
~Books and Articles
~List of Grief and Comfort Songs
~Tributes to Lost Loved Ones
Articles
~Cloud Bursts
~Endless Highway
~I Feel That No One Cares
~Seaching for Comfort and Cures
~Child Loss - A Different Dimension of Grief
~The Elusive Good Night's Sleep
~Our Grief Becomes a Part of Who We Are
~Healing Times - Taking Care of You
~Some Ways to Help a Grieving Person
~They Are Worthy of Our Grief
~Coming Back to Life Again
~Another Calendar Page Falls to the Floor
~Holiday Memorial Wreath
~The Grief Pack
~No More Compensation
~Grief Journeys - Heading for Dry Land
~The Red Light Won't Go Off (Child Loss)
~Go At Your Own Pace...But Keep on Trying
Michael Aaron Botten 02/18/74-01/09/07
Michael Aaron Botten
February 18, 1974 - January 09, 2007
Beloved first-born son of Sandra Burgess-Dean and William Botten; brother to Tracie Dean and Matthew Botten; father to two beautiful daughters, Krista and Kelsey.
He loved old cars, motorcycles, pickup trucks, fixing things, remote control vehicles, model cars, bicycles, creating with clay, drawing, reading his Bible, his family, friends, and co-workers. He was a volunteer fireman and a maintenance technician.
Michael suffered from sudden, acute, and uncontrollable diabetes in his late 20's. Gastroparesis and osteoporosis, along with severe and painful neuropathy, soon followed. Although he endured a broken heart, broken dreams, and a very painful, broken body, he continued smiling and praying for everyone he knew. He expected nothing. He appreciated everything. He gave all he could give.
Beloved first-born son of Sandra Burgess-Dean and William Botten; brother to Tracie Dean and Matthew Botten; father to two beautiful daughters, Krista and Kelsey.
He loved old cars, motorcycles, pickup trucks, fixing things, remote control vehicles, model cars, bicycles, creating with clay, drawing, reading his Bible, his family, friends, and co-workers. He was a volunteer fireman and a maintenance technician.
Michael suffered from sudden, acute, and uncontrollable diabetes in his late 20's. Gastroparesis and osteoporosis, along with severe and painful neuropathy, soon followed. Although he endured a broken heart, broken dreams, and a very painful, broken body, he continued smiling and praying for everyone he knew. He expected nothing. He appreciated everything. He gave all he could give.
God Saw You
God saw you getting tired,
When a cure was not to be.
So He wrapped his arms around you,
and whispered, "Come to me".
You didn't deserve what you went through,
So He gave you rest.
God's garden must be beautiful,
He only takes the best
And when I saw you sleeping,
So peaceful and free from pain
I could not wish you back
To suffer that again.
Anonymous
God saw you getting tired,
When a cure was not to be.
So He wrapped his arms around you,
and whispered, "Come to me".
You didn't deserve what you went through,
So He gave you rest.
God's garden must be beautiful,
He only takes the best
And when I saw you sleeping,
So peaceful and free from pain
I could not wish you back
To suffer that again.
Anonymous
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1 comment:
Hi Sweety, thanks you for sharing this blog with us. Here is part of a poem that helps me with life and death. Love you, Keli
.....When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.....
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