Tag Archives: grief


24 Nov

After Sammy’s death, we pretty much threw all of his things in plastic storage containers and stacked them in the closets in his bedroom. We just weren’t ready to go through his things, and I certainly didn’t want to give anything away for a while.

I’ve written blog entries about some of the things we have donated or shared with other children with HPE, so I have let go of some things when I knew there was a need by another child.

Five years later, Steve and I are currently in the process of cleaning out those closets and transitioning Sammy’s room into an office where I can do my work for Families for HoPE and hopefully begin working on Sammy’s scrapbook again.

As we empty and clean his room, I can’t help but think about the weekend in 2003 when we painted and prepared the room for Sammy. He was about 6 months old, and we decided that Sammy needed more space and the amenities of the master bedroom would be better for the nurses who worked with him at night while we slept.

With the help of our family, we spent an entire weekend painting and getting the room ready. By Sunday evening, we were able to officially show him his new room.

As I carried him into his room and laid him down in his crib, I was shocked by what I saw. The dark blue walls reflected off of Sammy’s pale white skin and made him look blue! I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony. My baby with a tracheostomy who had a knack for holding his breath was in a blue room that made him look blue! What was I thinking?


It’s time…

6 Jan

“The reality is that we don’t forget, move on, and have closure, but rather we honor, we remember, and incorporate our deceased children and siblings into our lives in a new way. In fact, keeping memories of your loved one alive in your mind and heart is an important part of your healing journey.” ~ Harriet Schiff, author of The Bereaved Parent

This weekend marks Sammy’s 4th heavenly birthday. It doesn’t even seem possible that four years have passed since the last time we held Sammy in our arms.

This weekend, Steve and I are taking a road trip to West Virginia to visit David, one of my favorite little guys with HPE. On what would have been Sammy’s 6th birthday, we made this same trip. The goal of that trip was to deliver Sammy’s wheelchair to David. This time, we are delivering Sammy’s bath chair to him.

We have only given a few of Sammy’s things away because I just haven’t been ready to part with things yet. Everything holds such meaning and memory, but maybe it’s time to take pictures of things and let some things go. There are other children who need or want these things that have just been sitting unused in my closets for 4 years.

So, I’ve decided to make a scrapbook for my memories… including a picture of Sammy using the item or playing with a toy, a picture of the item or toy by itself, and a picture of the recipient using or playing with the toy. In addition to the photos, I can journal a memory, share my feelings on letting go, or my thoughts about the recipient(s). All there for me to look at whenever I want.

It won’t be easy, and I know I’ll need help to do it, but it’s time.

I Lost My Child Today

6 Jan

I lost my child today.
People came to weep and cry,
As I just sat and stared, dry eyed.
They struggled to find words to say,
To try and make the pain go away,
I walked the floor in disbelief,
I lost my child today.

I lost my child last month.
Most of the people went away,
Some still call and some still stay.
I wait to wake up from this dream.
This can’t be real. I want to scream.
Yet everything is locked inside,
God, help me, I want to die.
I lost my child last month.

I lost my child last year.
Now people who had come, have gone.
I sit and struggle all day long.
To bear the pain so deep inside.
And now my friends just question, “Why?
Why does this mother not move on?
Just sits and sings the same old song.
Good heavens, it has been so long.”
I lost my child last year.

Time has not moved on for me.
The numbness it has disappeared.
My eyes have now cried many tears.
I see the look upon your face,
“She must move on and leave this place.”
Yet I am trapped right here in time,
The songs the same, as is the rhyme,
I lost my child……Today.