I thought of you and closed my eyes and prayed to God today.
I asked, "What makes a mother?" and I know I heard him say...
"A mother has a baby."
This is true. "But God, can you be a mother when your baby is not with you?"
"Yes you can." He replied with confidence in his voice.
"I gave many women babies. When they leave is not there choice. Some I send for a lifetime and others for a day. And some I send to feel your womb but there's no need to stay."
"I just do not understand this God. I want my baby here!"
He took a breath and cleared His throat and I saw a tear.
"I wish I could show you what your child is doing today. If you could see your child smile with other children and say...We go to earth and learn our lessons of love and life and fear. My mommy loved me so much I got to come straight here. I feel so lucky to have a mom who had so much love for me. I learned my lesson very quickly. My mommy set me free. I miss my mommy so much but I visit her each day: when she goes to sleep on her pillow...where I lay. I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear..'Mommy, don't be sad today. I'm your baby and I'm here' So you see my dear sweet one, your children are OK. Your babies are here in My home and this is where they'll stay. They'll wait for you with me until your lesson is through and on the day that you come home, they'll be at the gates for you. So now you see what makes a mother...It's the feeling in your heart. It's the love you had so much of right from the start."
Author unknown
I no longer mark the passage of time by clocks.
For my measure of time was forever changed the day you died.
A fleeting moment became an eternity.
It seems so strange that the sun still shines and the seasons change.
For my heart is so broken.
I cannot breathe without you in my every thought.
Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.
Time passes, the sun shines on.
And the seasons change again.
Now the pain is softer.
I grieve, but your brief life is framed with a gentler rememberance.
My love for you is still fierce and everlasting.
As I protect you in my memories.
Written in memory of Blake Tompkins and A.A.
Go ahead and mention my child, the one that died, you know.
Don't worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn't show.
Don't worry about making me cry.
I'm already crying inside.
Help me to heal by releasing the tears I try to hide.
I'm hurt when you just keep silent, pretending she didn't exist.
I'd rather you mention my child, knowing that she has been missed.
You asked me how I am doing. I say "Pretty good" or "Fine".
But healing is something ongoing.
I feel it will take a lifetime.
