Tag Archives: grieving

September 23, 2023 · 9:11 AM

On Bended Knees and Hearts

Sept 23, 1968: It is a day of celebration. We are with our beloved maternal grandma. The little girl (me) happily stands near her beautiful baby sister, who carries an infectious smile. We are celebrating my sister’s second birthday.

Oct. 22, 1968: One month later, it is a day of mourning. We are devastated and heartbroken about the precious life taken much too soon by a hit-and-run driver. With her sister gone, the little girl feels lonelier than ever before. Mama felt lost and never the same.

Current Year 2023: Mama changed addresses this past Mother’s Day at 3 p.m.. In August, we took some of Mama’s remains and placed them near her daughter, my baby sister. Both are with their Savior now and no longer are suffering. We shall see our loved ones again one day. For now, we are left with their memories and the ‘should-of, could-of, would-of.’

Ecclesiastes 12:7

“Then the dust will return to the earth as it was,
And the spirit will return to God who gave it.”

John 14:1-4

“Let not your heart be troubled;

you believe in God, believe also in Me.

In My Father’s house are many mansions;

if it were not so, I would have told you.

I go to prepare a place for you.

And if I go and prepare a place for you,

I will come again and receive you to Myself;

that where I am, there you may be also.

And where I go you know, and the way you know.”

Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace by Mary A. Pérez

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Filed under Life & Death

Tagged as baby sister, celebration, Ecclesiastes 12:7, grieving, heartfelt, heaven, John 14, Life & Death, Mama, Mother, mourning, personal

August 21, 2023 · 10:26 PM

Full Circle

“Grief is like the ocean; it comes in waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim.” Vicki Harrison

She was weak, frail, with no appetite. I prayed that Mama would make it to Mother’s Day. She did and left us at 3 pm on that very day! I believe she truly received the best gift possible. She no longer has any pain or discomfort. She doesn’t have to worry about anything or anyone else.

I had told her that I would, and I did. Three months had passed. With my immediate family, I took some of Mama’s remains to bury. We placed them alongside her parents, my grandparents. We also buried her next to my baby sister. She was tragically struck down by a hit-and-run driver at the tender age of two, some 55 years ago.

Everyone expresses life and death differently. What we did was another way to honor Mama and her memory. I know that Mama is in heaven, and not in a shallow grave. You see, doing this was more about healing for us. We are at peace knowing we did something to honor her life. Through it all—and there were many bumps in the road—Mama was loved, and she is now with her Savior. In the end: Love. Won!

"Let not your heart be troubled; you believe in God, believe also in Me.In My Father’s house are many mansions; if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself; that where I am, there you may be also. And where I go you know, and the way you know.”

John 14:1-4

Here is a snapshot of what this looked like:

Click “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace” by Mary A. Pérez
to purchase through Amazon

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Filed under grieving, Memorial

Tagged as Family, gravesite, grieving, John 14:1-4, Mama, memoir, Memorial, personal, Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace, Vicki Harrison

July 24, 2023 · 9:19 PM

Missing my Mama

“Grief, I’ve learned, is really just love. It’s all the love you want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love gathers up in the corners of your eyes, the lump in your throat, and in that hollow part of your chest. Grief is just love with no place to go.” Jaime Anderson

Missing you, Mama.

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 ~

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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 22, 2020 · 8:53 PM

Forever, For Always in my Heart

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.

My sister, 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.

Before I knew it, my baby sister turned two. Whatever we did, doing it together was more fun than being alone.

One particular evening, as I gazed into my sister’s baby blues, a sudden feeling of sorrow swept over me. Tears clouded my eyes. Something burned within my chest. I cried out, “Please God, don’t let nothing bad happen to her!”

Anna gazed at me with her gentle, trusting eyes.

“I’ll protect you,” I whispered to her. “For always.”

Before bedtime, we repeated a child’s prayer Grandma taught me, one that hung on the wall:

“. . . I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep . . .”

That night I clung to my sister and kept the strange premonition to myself.

My legs trembled as I crept to her room and peered through the glass-pane door on my tiptoes. I saw a blinking monitor. Then I saw her—my baby sister—with soiled feet, still in her little, green denim dress, tattered and torn. She lay motionless on her back, her curly, brown hair matted with blood. Her face was bruised and swollen; her baby blues closed tight.

I felt light-headed as I slumped on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, crying.

At the funeral, I held my breath and willed my feet toward the small white casket.

Grandma squeezed my hand. I took my finger and stroked my sister’s face, which reminded me of a plastic doll’s, stiff and cold to the touch. Heavy makeup could not conceal her bruises. Her little head—now swollen from the blow of the car that hit her—was cradled by a bonnet, much too small. She wore a new green dress, cleaned and pressed, without stains. Nor traces of blood.

I glanced up at Grandma. “Your sister’s in a better place now,” she choked. Then I placed a small cross under Anna’s tiny, rigid hands. My tears blinded me.

“. . . If I should die before I wake, I pray thee, Lord, my soul to take.”

Excerpt from “Running in Heels: A Memoir of Grit and Grace“

Each year as her birthday approaches, I think about how special my baby sister has always been to me. But those memories turn bittersweet, as it is difficult for me to separate how quickly we had to say goodbye to her, just a month after celebrating her 2nd birthday. Her memory will forever live in my heart, and for that I am grateful.

Morning Will Come

Brokenhearted . . .
How can I bear the pain?
So many plans . . . permanently interrupted.
So many dreams . . . shattered.
Hopes . . . dashed.
All gone.
Why?
Why this?
Why us? Why me?
Helplessness . . . hopelessness . . .
Life will never be the same again.
Is it even worth living?
Where are you, God?

I’m right here beside you, my child.
Even though you may not feel my presence,
I’m holding you close under the shadow of my wings.
I will walk with you through this dark night.

Do not shrink from weeping.
I gave you tears for emotional release.
Don’t try to hide your grief.
Let it become for you a source of healing,
A process of restoration,
For I have planned it so.
Those who mourn shall be blessed.
I’ll be holding on to you,
Even when you feel you can’t hold on to me.

Seek my face, child of mine.
Receive my promise, impossible as it may seem now,
That joy will come in the morning.
It may take time,
But I will heal your broken heart.
I know the night seems endless,
but MORNING WILL COME.
I have promised.

–From the Haven of Rest Newsletter

Note: I came across this poem and wanted to share it with my readers. So many times we can’t see the light because of so much darkness, despair, grief, and pain. We wonder how long? How much more? When will it end? God, are you really there? Friends, please know that as long as you have a pulse, there is a purpose. As long as you have breath, there is hope. And as long as you’re in your right mind, there are possibilities. Under the shadow of His wings, stay the course. Full speed ahead!

Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.

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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.

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

In Loving Memory …

Elizabeth Bearden

January 6, 1911 – August 12, 2016

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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

May 29, 2015 · 9:41 PM

Morning Will Come

Brokenhearted…….

How can I bear the pain?

So many plans…permanently interrupted.

So many dreams….shattered.

Hopes…….dashed

All gone.

Why? Why this? Why us? Why me?

Helplessness…..hopelessness…

Life will never be the same again.

Is it even worth living?

Where are you, God?

I’m right here beside you, my child.

Even though you may not feel my presence,

I’m holding you close under the shadow of my wings.

I will walk with you through this dark night.

Do not shrink from weeping.

I gave you tears for emotional release.

Don’t try to hide your grief.

Let it become for you a source of healing,

A process of restoration,

For I have planned it so.

Those who mourn shall be blessed.

I’ll be holding on to you,

Even when you feel you can’t hold on to me.

Seek my face, child of mine.

Receive my promise, impossible as it may seem now,

That joy will come in the morning.

It may take time,

But I will heal your broken heart.

I know the night seems endless,

But MORNING WILL COME

I have promised.

—-From The Haven of Rest Newsletter

Note: I came across this poem and wanted to share it with my readers. Many times, we can’t see the light because of the overwhelming darkness, despair, grief, and pain. We wonder how long? How much more? When will it end? God, are you really there? Friends, please know that as long as you have a pulse, there is a purpose. As long as you have breath, there is hope. And as long as you’re in your right mind, there are possibilities. Under the shadow of His wings, stay the course. Full speed ahead!

Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning.

7 Comments

Filed under Encouraged Comfort, Hope For the Hopeless

Tagged as burdens, Comforter, emotional release, encouragement, grieving, hope, joy, trials

December 19, 2013 · 10:17 PM

Farewell …

If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was peacefully napping.

In the hospital, time stood still as I gazed down at the man who had fought his demons since I’d known him. Vivid memories of our fifteen years of marriage before it ended many years ago churned in my mind’s eye: his dimpled smile, lilting voice, broad shoulders, bow-legged stance, the shuffling of his feet when he walked, his unselfish generosity. Recurring thoughts raced through my mind of all the what-ifs. At that moment, nothing else mattered. I remembered the good, not the bad, his strengths, rather than his weaknesses, and his triumphs, rather than his failures.

Anna Marie barged into the room, rushing to his side as if to wake him from sleep. “Dad! Dad!” she shouted, shaking him. “Dad!”

“Anna,” I spoke sharply and held her hand still. I softened my tone, “He’s gone.”

“But why, Mom? Why…?”

“Anna, I don’t know. It was his time; he was ready to go. He never wanted to grow old, become a burden…” My voice trailed off. I recalled what he had said, how he wouldn’t live past sixty, as if sixty was old, too old, and he never wanted to get “like that.” How soon the years pass.

“No, Mom!” Anna Marie shook her head in disbelief, her face red. “Not yet!” she sobbed.

I held her tight and cried with her.

Soon, the others arrived. We gathered around. My baby girl, Angela, was nine months pregnant with her first child and due to give birth any day. Naturally, I was concerned for her well-being. But when she gently placed Donny’s immobile hand over her swollen belly, I broke down.

As always, Mark — my husband of eight years — was there by my side to comfort me.

(A short excerpt from Running in Heels – A Memoir of Grit and Grace)

Note: Eleven years ago today, the father of my children sadly passed away. It was just six days before Christmas. Ten days after bidding him farewell, the cycle of life continued as we celebrated the birth of our grandson.

I am reminded of this passage of scripture: “To everything, there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: a time to be born and a time to die …” Ecclesiastes 3:1,2