Category Archives: Bereavement

September 21, 2021 · 8:42 AM

Always On My Mind

I remember first holding you, so tiny in my arms.
Next thing I knew, you turned two, angelic, like a charm.
Your silhouette dancing in my dreams before my eyes –
Remembering your joy with my simple lullabies.

I imagine your eyes, your voice, your laughter,
Spending time together, nothing else mattered.
Thinking about you often before crawling into bed at night,
I loved you so much that I never wanted you out of my sight.

I wish you could tell me what’s on your mind today.

What are the things you’re longing to say?
Would you have married a wonderful husband?
Live in a castle and have many children?

Oh, if only, if only, I could see you now,
I would run to you, hold you tight, and twirl you around!

Oh, sister, there will always be a hole in my heart,
But I guess I knew that from the start.
If I still had you now to talk with, share secrets with, laugh, and cry
I would not be here now thinking: Why? Why did you have to die?

Dear Readers:

As we approach the anniversary of my baby sister’s life and death, what I have shared is very dear and personal to my heart. As my eyes mist with tears, I still feel my heart burn heavily from missing her! But please understand that I do NOT “blame” God for my sister’s death! Our God is Sovereign, and I believe He allows certain things to happen to us for His greater plan and purpose. (Isa. 57: 1). After all, His ways are higher than our ways.

Now, I’m not by any means a theologian, a preacher, or a Bible teacher. I’m just a layman, a simple woman of faith, with a finite mind trying to serve an Infinite God. I know it rains on the just and unjust (Matt. 5:45); bad things happen to good people.

If I am to be honest, I don’t always understand the mind of God. Howbeit, I purpose in my heart to trust Him! And if I am to be truthful, yes, to this day my heart does have a few unanswered questions. Occasionally, in my life journey, I have meltdowns, wallow in self-pity, and find myself clouded by doubts and fears. However, because of His steadfast love and unfathomable mercy for me, I thank God I don’t have to remain in that state of mind!

You see, I am a work in progress.

In memory of my sister, who prematurely passed away 53 years ago, at the hands of a hit-and-run driver. (To learn more of her story, click here.) She would have been ten years older than my firstborn daughter! I had to say goodbye to my little sister when I was nine, just a month after she turned two. I remember so much pain and suffering as a child back then. In retrospect, I believe God may have spared her from something worse.
I look forward to the Blessed Hope that someday we will be reunited and once again embrace one another. She will not return to me, but I will go to her one day (II Sam 12:23). And we will NEVER have to be apart.

2 Comments

Filed under Bereavement, Personal

Tagged as baby loss, death, Faith, Family, hit-and-run, hope, life, Loss of a Loved One, Matthew 5:45, memoir, mourn, Poetry, sibling loss

September 22, 2018 · 8:20 AM

She’s Always On My Mind

I remember first holding you, so tiny in my arms.
Next thing I knew, you turned two, angelic, and quite a charm.
Your silhouette dancing in my dreams before my eyes –
Remembering your joy with my simple lullabies.

I imagine your eyes, your voice, your laughter,
Spending time together, nothing else mattered.
Thinking about you often before crawling into bed at night,
I loved you so much, never wanting you out of my sight.

I wish you could tell me what’s on your mind today?
What are the things you’re longing to say?
Would you have married a wonderful husband?
Live in a castle and have many children?

Oh, if only, if only, I could see you now,
I would run to you, hold you tight, and twirl you around!

Oh, sister, there will always be a hole in my heart,
But I guess I knew that from the start.
If I still had you now to talk, share secrets, laugh, and cry
I would not be here now thinking: Why did you have to die?

Dear Readers:

As we approach the anniversary of my baby sister’s life and death, what I have shared is very dear and personal to my heart. As my eyes mist with tears, I still feel my heart burn heavily from missing her! But please understand that I do NOT “blame” God for my sister’s death! Our God is Sovereign and I believe that He allows certain things to happen to us for His greater plan and purpose. (Isa. 57: 1). After all, His ways are higher than our ways.

Now, I’m not by any means a theologian, a preacher, or a Bible teacher. I’m just a layman, a simple woman of faith, with a finite mind trying to serve an Infinite God. I know that it rains on the just and unjust (Matt. 5:45); bad things do happen to good people.

If I am to be honest, I don’t always understand the mind of God. Howbeit, I purpose in my heart to trust Him! And if I am to be truthful, yes, my heart does have a few unanswered questions. On occasions, in my journey of life, I have meltdowns, wallow in self-pity, and find myself clouded by doubts and fears. However, because of His steadfast love and His unfathomable mercy for me, I thank God that I don’t remain in that state of mind!

You see, I am a work in progress.

In memory of my sister who prematurely passed away 50 years ago by a hit-and-run driver. (To learn more of her story, click here.) She would have been ten years older than my first-born! I had to say goodbye to her when I was nine, just a month after she turned two years old. I remember so much pain and suffering as a child back then. In retrospect, I believe God may have spared her from something worse. I look forward to the Blessed Hope that one day we will embrace one another once again. She will not return to me, but I will go to her one day. And we will NEVER have to be apart.

8 Comments

Filed under Bereavement, Personal

Tagged as baby loss, death, Faith, Family, hit-and-run, hope, life, Loss of a Loved One, Matthew 5:45, memoir, mourn, Poetry, sibling loss

Image

So Long for Now …

“Fred, Eric, Sarah, and Michael – to all of Susan’s extended family and beloved friends: My family and I extend our sincere condolences.”

Susan’s family

“My heart is heavy today. Susie was my friend. She reached out to me when I was going through some personal pain in my life. She welcomed me and my family into her heart and home over 30 years ago. Our daughters are the same age and have become close friends. Her youngest son and my son, a year apart, became diaper buddies. Our husbands (during my first marriage) even grew close!”

“I’d watch Susie. She had such an upbeat personality, and her words were always so encouraging. Even when I didn’t feel so ‘upbeat’ and ‘positive’, I couldn’t remain feeling down for too long around her. She had a way of hugging you while she patted you on the back … hard! Being around Susie, I learned how to communicate with my small children. I learned how to laugh with them. Susie just had a way with children – she genuinely liked them! I don’t think she ever met a stranger; conversation simply flowed out of her mouth, and she truly cared for the one she was speaking to.”

“Susie had child-like faith, always believing that her Heavenly Father was ready to grant her simple requests. Whether it was a petition for the salvation of loved ones or to save her nation, whether she sought a miracle for a deformed child or for her own healing, she knew that there was nothing too hard for God to handle, and never wavered in standing on His promises. She was a true worshiper. She loved to dance before the Lord and become lost in His presence. I don’t doubt she is up there now, dancing with our Savior!”

“Susie believed in hope. Hope against hope. Hope for a better day. Hope that God had something better. Hope that tomorrow will come. She trusted, loved, prayed, believed, laughed, encouraged, interceded, danced, worshiped, sang, rejoiced, wept, and praised! She convinced me that I could make it, that everything would be okay, that I was destined for greatness, and that with God ALL things were possible to them that believed.”

“I enjoyed being around her, but towards the end, I am ashamed to admit that I grew uncomfortable. We sometimes cower at the things we do not understand. We cringe at anything that may appear bleak before our eyes, and before we know it, our resolve weakens, our faith wavers, and our hope diminishes. Yet, our God is constant. Aren’t you glad His love’s unwavering, His tender mercies unfailing, His grace enduring? He doesn’t give up on any of us! He says in His Word, His grace is sufficient for us – His strength is made perfect in weaknesses.”

“Susie, thank you for the memories. You will be sorely missed. I rejoice knowing that your pain and suffering have come to an end. When you took your last breath here on earth, your next breath became your first one in heaven. You get to experience Christmas every day now, while we plod along doing all we know to do just to make it through another day.”

“And we who are left behind, may we not grow weary as we continue on this journey. May those of us who know Christ remember that this is not our permanent home. Through every tragedy, every trial, and every triumph, remind us, Lord, that You, oh God, have something greater in store for us. Although there are times we may not understand Your ways, God, may we remember that we can trust Your heart, for You know what’s best for Your children.”

“They say that I was a great friend to Susie, but it was she who was a great friend to me.”

11205566_10208619617355715_3092442113492171211_n

Doing what she enjoyed doing best.

I’ll always remember my friend, Susie Bubeck, and forever treasure our friendship of the many years we shared together! One day we will all reunite, but today we sadly said goodbye to her.

“I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith.” II Tim. 4:7

5 Comments

December 23, 2015 · 7:48 PM

Image

Ode to a Mother’s Heart – Part II

1625678_10152159195258375_5494508477144186043_n

Last month, I attended the funeral of a co-worker’s daughter. She was only twenty-seven years old. A beautiful soul, inside and out. She and her mother were connected by the hip. As a mother myself, I could only imagine the thoughts rolling around in this mother’s head, the depth of the pain in her heart, the weight of the burden upon her shoulders, and the hundreds of unanswered questions that most likely wanted to consume her.

This week, I attended yet another funeral for the untimely death of a mother’s child. This son was just twenty-two years old and had even served in the military. He was his mother’s pride and joy: strong, handsome, charming; his whole life ahead of him. To witness the pain in this mother’s eyes touched me with every fiber of my being.

12243055_10208686278737278_927864441355928982_n 12115456_10208686275017185_3722922376200647428_n

For these families, I imagine there will be many tomorrows before the pain eases.

I don’t care how tough you think you are, a parent having to bury their child will bring anyone to their knees! For a parent to have to bury a child is a bitter pill to swallow. A myriad of emotions run rampant. The mind replays a flood of memories. The inner voices and screams cry out in despair and in utter darkness in midday!

For this tragedy to have happened to these families – any family – my heart grieves for them. But especially for the mother. I can only fathom the sheer loneliness of a mother’s heartbeat for the loss of her child, no matter what age. Surely, every tear that escapes serves as an expression of a genuine love embedded in a mother’s heart for a lifetime, more so than the nine months she carried that child in her womb.

I’ve asked myself why many times. But I think I know the reason why I tend to weep upon hearing the first sound of a newborn’s cry. I am reminded that a little miracle came out of me! A fresh start. New beginnings. Those cries remind me of that special moment in time when I first felt pure joy, hope, and thanksgiving. I am awakened to a sea of memories of the dreams and plans for this gift of a new life after giving birth. As fate would have it, not every dream comes to fruition, and not every wish becomes a reality. Many joys and sorrows come with caring for children. But I imagine no sorrow can compare to having to say goodbye to your little one (young or old), knowing that it should have been the other way around.

I hurt for these mothers. Although they may never get over the loss of their child, I pray that in time, they will get through it.

11329869_10153432165869246_6608638429490916785_n