Tag Archives: death

October 22, 2025 · 5:08 AM

The Shadows of my Baby Sister’s Death

I remember first holding you, so tiny in my arms.
Next thing I knew, you turned two, angelic, and quite the charm.
Your silhouette dances 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.
I thought about you often before crawling into bed at night.
I loved you deeply and 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 I could see you now. I would run to you. I would hold you and twirl you around!

Oh, sister, there will always be a hole in my heart,
But I guess, somehow I knew that from the start.

If only I had you to talk to, share secrets with, laugh, and cry
I would not be here thinking: Why? Why did you have to die?

Excerpt, Chapter 2 of Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace

Soft, velvety cheeks. A round, rosy nose. Dark hair like mine, but curly. Eyes, blue that sparkled like the ocean I’d seen in storybooks. I kissed her sweet-smelling face. Her soft, pudgy hand with tiny fingers curled inside mine. Anna melted my heart. I won’t be alone anymore. I caressed her cheeks and whispered, “I’ll stay by your side for always.”

Soon left with the responsibility of caring for Anna, I became her substitute mother. I loved her and took care of her as best as a seven-year-old could.

8 Comments

Filed under Loss, poetry

Tagged as death, grief, mourn, personal, sister, sorrow

October 10, 2025 · 12:28 PM

Happy Birthday to Mama in Heaven

Dear Mama,

It’s been three years since you’ve been gone from us … you would have turned 91 years old today. I know you are celebrating the best birthday ever. On this day, I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday in heaven.

I hope you know you are sorely missed. It’s no secret we’ve been through some hard times together. Although you weren’t the perfect mother, I wasn’t the perfect daughter. Perhaps, we were perfect for each other. I pretty much miss everything about you! Never thought I’d say, even your bickering over something or about someone. I miss buying you trinkets, pretty blouses, and taking you to a nice restaurant. It was good to help you forget problems and enjoy your special day. Making you smile meant everything to me.

In the end, it hurt to let you go, but seeing you suffer in pain was worse. I asked the Lord that you’d still be around on Mother’s Day. And God called you home in time; it was on Mother’s Day at 3 pm. You are totally healed now. You have no more pain. There is no discomfort, or tears, or worry. You are with your Savior and loved ones who have gone on before you. Please send them all my love.

I will never forget you. Sending you kisses and all my love, Mama.

Always your Little Girl.

5 Comments

Filed under Mama

Tagged as daughter, death, grief, life, love, memories, mourning, personal, relationship, reminiscing

May 27, 2023 · 3:00 PM

Celebrating Mama’s Life. . .

^{Creative Director – Charlie Duggar}
^{featuring artists: Evan Craft, Danny Gokey, Redimi2 – “Be Alright”
Tercer Cielo – “Yo Te Extrañare”
Boyz II Men – “A Song for Mama”
Elvis Presley – “Take My Hand, Precious Lord”
Josh Groban – “You Raise Me Up”
Mercy Me – “I Can Only Imagine”}

I had to say goodbye to Mama.
On Mother’s Day.
The Lord called her home at 3 pm.

In my heart of hearts, I believe she received the best Mother’s Day gift ever. There is no more pain and no more suffering. Now she rejoices with her Savior. She joins all the loved ones who have gone on before her. As Christians, that’s our Blessed Hope! And I will see her again.

It’s true: “We cannot think our way out of grief. We must feel our way out of grief.”

So when I said goodbye to Mama, the sadness of losing her hit me deeply. It snatched my breath away. I felt a pain rip through my chest. This grief is heavy, and if it didn’t come in waves, I’d be consumed. A mother-daughter relationship is complex, and lines of communication can be challenging. We worked on doing better as time went by. And in the end, when she couldn’t speak, she’d gaze upon me, and her loving eyes spoke volumes. She fought the good fight! Her last breath on earth became her first breath in heaven.

So Mama, I want to express again: Thank you for praying for me when words escaped you.

Because of you, I found the strength I never knew I had; I learned to be resilient.

Because of you, I have found that when I can’t, God can! And He has. And He continues to do so.

I want to thank you for giving me life, although the journey was anything but easy.

I’m grateful that because of you, this caterpillar turned into a butterfly. In the strength of the Lord, I learned to spread my wings over circumstances. I spread my wings over difficulties and over the struggles of life.

One thing I know—and have always known—is that you loved me, and I loved you. Just the way you described me, Mama, I will always be your little girl.

Farewell for now.

Your heart still beats. It beats within me.

Love won.

And. You. Were. Loved.

Click here >>> On Borrowed Time <<< Click here
~ My blog on 10/2022 ~

7 Comments

Filed under Mama's Celebration of Life, Mother's Day

Tagged as Blessed Hope, death, emotions, grieving, heartbreak, heaven, John 14:1-4, Latina, Mama, mourning, personal, sorrow

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

May 5, 2020 · 8:00 AM

She Hurts No More …

A horrific day for our country. In shock, I watched the Space
Shuttle Challenger breaks apart and burns just seconds into its
flight. Five men and two women tragically lost their lives for
the good of all humanity. They lived their dream by serving
others. I may not have known them personally, but they died
as heroes.

Three months later, on April 3, 1986, sickness reduced an
eighty-six-year-old unsung Puerto Rican woman to skin
and bones as she lost her bout with cancer. She wasn’t affluent.
Refined. Or famous. But she was loved. Adored. And my
heroine.

When Mama called me and told me about Grandma’s final
moments, sobs stuck in my throat. She expressed how she
had sat at my grandma’s bedside, terrified, while listening to
her breathing in short, laborious rasps.

“Your grandma’s parting words were, ‘God is calling me
now,’ and then she gazed up at the ceiling.” Mama spoke dolefully.
“So, I asked her, ‘How do you know?’ But she didn’t
speak anymore. She closed her eyes and I held her close.”

Mama’s trembling voice was broken by sobs. “I . . . told her
that I loved her. And I said to her, ‘You carried me for
nine months.’”

I pictured that heart-rending image of Grandma’s gentle
countenance and Mama struggling to convey her love to her.
And I thought, Oh Mama, she carried you longer than nine
months. My insides ached, knowing that in her heart and
prayers, Grandma carried us all.

My grief came in waves. Looking back, I know God spared
me from becoming hopelessly morbid and consumed with
anguish. Grandma wouldn’t have wanted that. Knowing she
no longer suffered, I believed her final heartbeat didn’t mean
the end but the beginning!

I wanted to celebrate her life when I journeyed back to
help with her memorial.

Once a plump woman, Grandma had lost so much weight
in her final days. She had always loved a simple white Easter
dress that belonged to me and requested that when the time
came we’d bury her in it. My dress fitted her perfectly then. I
also asked that everyone wear white instead of the customary
black garments at her funeral.

White carnations—Grandma’s favorite—covered her
opened casket. I stood, my eyes caressing her still face, now
so thin. Vivid images of her life jumped into my thoughts. I
saw her on her knees pleading with God to be merciful to her
loved ones. I recalled her many prayers of gratitude for another
day. I pictured her lips mouthing the holy scriptures as she read her
Bible, with her index finger pointing to the sentences across
the worn pages. I could still hear the sound of her soft voice
calling my name. I remembered the merriment of her laughter
after listening to one of my silly jokes.

Hot tears blinded me and I couldn’t blink them away.
In my mind’s eye, Grandma came to me. I could hear her.
Feel her. Touch her. Her love, her hugs, and her kisses embraced me.

We honored her memory and her passing from this life
into the next.

A gentle breeze blew the heat of the day; the sun hid behind
the clouds. The scent of rain permeated the air.
As it started to drizzle, my heart was comforted. Grandma always
considered it a good omen if it rained on the day, someone
laid to rest.

Before long, her coffin lay in a crypt next to her cherished
husband, my grandpa.

At last, Grandma’s labors had ended. Thank God, she
hurt no more.

(Excerpt from Chap. 37 “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace” by Mary A. Pérez)

Footnote: Dear Readers, on this Mother’s Day coming up, gone from us for more than three decades, I remember my precious grandma who I mentioned in my book. Matter of fact, both Mama and I miss her terribly. Grandma was the undisputed, caring matriarch of our familia; a ray of sunshine in our entire existence. She rarely complained or thought about herself. She was a selfless soul, showering love and kindness to others. Impeccable in my eyes, she truly was our unsung hero. We cherish her memories.

1 Comment

Filed under heroine, Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace

Tagged as death, heroine, memoir, memory, Mothers Day, reflection, reminiscence

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

December 15, 2017 · 10:00 PM

Saying Goodbye for Now

It doesn’t get any easier, folks. I had to say goodbye to another precious saint of God. Mary Anne Copelin, my spiritual mother, mentor, and friend, was 91 years old.

This woman of God was a true doer of the Word, believed in having a prayer life, and always sitting on ready. She was a Bible teacher, a missionary, an author, a powerhouse, and a force of nature! She touched all who came across her path. She knew the Word of God and flowed under the anointing. She always said she’d rather miss God in trying to be obedient than miss Him in not trying.

Mrs. C first came into my life some 35 years ago. At the time, I was an empty shell—broken and undone. Mrs. C picked me up, dusted me off, and took me under her wing. Then, she loved me, schooled me, and encouraged me. She allowed me to cry countless times and bare my soul. I didn’t always like or agree with everything she suggested, but I respected her knowledge and sound wisdom.

I learned much from her; some lessons took a while to sink in. I came to the realization that I am a spiritual being. I need to be who I am and not try to imitate someone else. I need to love myself first to love others. The self I need to reject is the “flesh” which dominates my soul. The flesh will abuse or misuse my personality. To have a healthy self-respect, I must see myself as a person of dignity and worth. The one with no self-worth or self-esteem tends to hide behind a mask. Been there, done that.

Over the years, I’ve met and have come to know many wonderful and dear sisters in the Lord; many are friends to this very day. Through Mrs. C’s ministry, I met another saint of God, Elizabeth Bearden, whom we also grew to love and even cared for her in her later years until she crossed over to be with the Lord.

Yes, I am grateful that this one woman enriched my life and instilled in me hope for change. Throughout my struggles and setbacks, she pushed me forward and taught me the importance of God’s grace.

So, Mary Anne, I say so long for now. Thank you for your life and for treating me like a loving daughter, even when I didn’t feel so loving. I thank God for knowing you and for being a vital part of not only my life but also the lives of my family. We will miss you until we see you again.

18 Comments

Filed under Legacy

Tagged as character, Christian, death, dignity, friendship, good bye, Grace, legacy, ministry, personal, self-worth, so long, Spiritual Mother

August 13, 2016 · 2:51 PM

Crossing Over

Our dear Elizabeth crossed over to the other side this morning. Even though you try to prepare yourself for the inevitable, the reality of losing a loved one and having to say goodbye still has a way of slapping you in the face! Never mind that she was 105 years young, it was hard to see her go.

Many of you know that Elizabeth was not my mother but a dear, precious friend of some 30+ years; however, I realize that many of you don’t know that. I got to know her intimately these past few years while my husband, daughter, and I cared for her around the clock. She was like a grandmother to me, but she was more like a mother to my husband (he had lost his own mother at age 15). I will never forget the picture I have of my husband saying goodbye to Elizabeth this morning. I love the way he loved her!

Elizabeth’s feistiness, wit, and humor held her in good stead for all these many years. She was easy to love, a precious gem to all who knew her. She loved life, she loved people, and she loved her God.

In the days ahead, much preparation needs to be done. We are also planning a Memorial Service at our church next week. Elizabeth’s funeral will be held in Tulsa as she wished.

I thank everyone for their love and support. I thank God for the Blessed Hope that one day we shall see our loved ones again who went on ahead to glory! Imagine Elizabeth’s grand reunion with her Savior, family, and friends!

I have blogged about Elizabeth several times. Here is one of my posts about her.

So long for now, Elizabeth. May you rest in peace with no more pain, dancing with your Father God in fields of grace. Until we meet again.

13923313_10206549481205031_5211184271142049490_o

Bronze sculpture in the Spilsbury Mortuary in St. George, UT

In Loving Memory …

Elizabeth Bearden

January 6, 1911 – August 12, 2016

24 Comments

Filed under Blessed Hope, In Loving Memory, Loss of a Loved One

Tagged as "Come Unto Me" bronze statue, centenarian, death, Elizabeth, grieving, In Loving Memory, legacy, Loss of a Loved One, Spilsbury Mortuary, sympathy

March 6, 2016 · 11:42 PM

Goodbye Joey Feeks

On the day I die, a lot will happen.

A lot will change.

The world will be busy.

On the day I die, all the important appointments I made will be left unattended.

The many plans I had yet to complete will remain forever undone.

The calendar that ruled so many of my days will now be irrelevant to me.

All the material things I so chased and guarded and treasured will be left in the hands of others to care for or to discard.

The words of my critics which so burdened me will cease to sting or capture anymore. They will be unable to touch me.

The arguments I believed I’d won here will not serve me or bring me any satisfaction or solace.

All my noisy incoming notifications and texts and calls will go unanswered. Their great urgency will be quieted.

My many nagging regrets will all be resigned to the past, where they should have always been anyway.

Every superficial worry about my body that I ever labored over; about my waistline or hairline or frown lines, will fade away.

My carefully crafted image, the one I worked so hard to shape for others here, will be left to them to complete anyway.

The sterling reputation I once struggled so greatly to maintain will be of little concern for me anymore.

All the small and large anxieties that stole sleep from me each night will be rendered powerless.

The deep and towering mysteries about life and death that so consumed my mind will finally be clarified in a way that they could never be before while I lived.

These things will certainly all be true on the day that I die.

Yet for as much as will happen on that day, one more thing that will happen.

On the day I die, the few people who really know and truly love me will grieve deeply.

They will feel a void.

They will feel cheated.

They will not feel ready.

They will feel as though a part of them has died as well.

And on that day, more than anything in the world they will want more time with me.

I know this from those I love and grieve over.

And so knowing this, while I am still alive I’ll try to remember that my time with them is finite and fleeting and so very precious—and I’ll do my best not to waste a second of it.

I’ll try not to squander a priceless moment worrying about all the other things that will happen on the day I die because many of those things are either not my concern or beyond my control.

Friends, those other things have an insidious way of keeping you from living even as you live; vying for your attention, competing for your affection.

They rob you of the joy of this unrepeatable, uncontainable, ever-evaporating Now with those who love you and want only to share it with you.

Don’t miss the chance to dance with them while you can.

It’s easy to waste so much daylight in the days before you die.

Don’t let your life be stolen every day by all that you believe matters, because on the day you die, much of it simply won’t.

Yes, you and I will die one day.

But before that day comes: let us live.

Poem by John Pavlovitz

This past Friday,

Joey Feeks – of gospel duo Joey & Rory – died in her hometown of Alexandria, Indiana, ending her brave fight with terminal cancer at the age of 40. Joey, beautiful and talented, was a woman of love and faith. She departed this world from the loving arms of her husband, Rory, into her Savior’s loving arms in heaven. Heaven is getting top-heavy. As I heard about her passing on the radio, I couldn’t help but cry. I was saddened because she had everything to live for. She had a devoted husband, a darling two-year-old, two older daughters, and, of course, loving family members. But God’s ways are higher than our ways. And God had other plans for her. When we don’t understand God’s ways, we shall continue to trust His will for our lives.

Joey Feeks will be missed by many.

http://theboot.com/joey-feek-tribute-video/

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