SPECIAL WORDS

"SPECIAL WORDS BY SPECIAL PEOPLE"

My brother Mike and his wife Connie
had lost their daughter Megan when she was only 12 years old.
This is a letter Connie sent me after Tony died.
It is one of my most treasured.

11/3/97
My Dearest Francie,
I can't begin to express my sadness at what has happened. No one that I loved truly understood how I felt when Megan died. I've prayed since then that they never would. I'm so sorry that that prayer wasn't answered the way I wanted it to be.
I know that you are somewhat in shock right now. Stay there as long as you need. Reality will come in it's own time. Time does make this easier to bear. You will never get over it, but you will adjust to it and learn to keep on living. God really will be there to support you through your weakness and pain.
If you want to talk, or not talk and cry , or talk and cry, please call me. you can call collect anytime. Sadly, for both of us, you are not alone in this grief.
I love you, and wish I could be there with in body. I will be with you in prayer.
All my love,
Connie
P.S. Please, let your self grieve at you own pace, in whatever way you need to for yourself. You and the other kids may grieve differently: that's normal. Don't get caught up in thinking that you're not doing it "right" or fast enough or slow enough. Only you will know what's right for you!

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"THE DOOR"
(author unknown)

It looked like an ordinary, wooden door,
only it had no knob.
As he walked toward it, my hands turned clammy with fear.
He tossed me a small wistful smile over his shoulders
It was his first day of school
he said, "you can't come with me. I'm a big boy now,and
I'm going to be just fine."
He was only five.
Much too young to leave me, of course.
But I had to let him go.
The door swung shut behind him.
I grasped for the knob, but there was none.
I must be on the other side
My eyes were drawn to a tiny window near the top.
Trembling, I peered in.

Colorful posters lined the walls and shelves were filled
with brightly colored books.
There he was,
his little had was firmly clasped in his teacher's hand,
as she steered him towards a group of laughing children.
I knew my child could be happy in that room.
In time he would welcome me to his classroom,
eager to show off his new friends and share his newfound wisdom.
In good time, I could wait...
now that I knew he was happy!

And now, another door without a knob.
The wistful smile lingered in the air
as he walked through the door.
It swung shut behind him with a final thud.
He was only twenty-two.
Much too young to leave me, of course.
I began to hammer at the door with my fists.
Nobody would keep me from my son.
I could exist on this side of the door if my child was on the other side.
My knuckles became raw, but I welcomed the pain.
I was nothing compared to the pain I felt inside.
I had overlooked a tiny window near the top
Perhaps it hadn't been there before.
I peered through.

Sunlight rippled through a neadow of blue flowers.
Walking toward me were two men dressed in white.
It wasn't difficult to ascertain the identity of The One.
The other was my son. I would recognize him anywhere.
But oh! he was so changed.
He was radiant and dazzling.
His eyes were almost as vividly blue as the flowers beneath his feet.
"Go back, Mom"
he said gently,
"you can't come with me, I'm a big boy now, and I'm going to be just fine."
He turned and clasped the hand of his beloved new Teacher
and they disappeared into the blue meadow.

I felt a peace descend upon my heart.
I knew my child would be happy in that place.
In time he would welcome me to his kingdom,
eager to show off his new friend and newfound wisdom.
When the door would open for me.
In God's time, I could wait...
now that I knew he was happy!


*****************************************
"HE ONLY TOOK MY HAND"
(author unknown)

Last night while I was trying to sleep
My son's voice I did hear
I opened up my eyes and looked around
But he did not appear
He said," Mom you've got to listen
You've got to understand
God didn't take you from me, Mom
He only took my hand
When I cried out in pain that night
The instant that I died
He reached down and took my hand
And pulled me to his side
He pulled me up and saved me
From the misery and pain
My body was hurt so badly inside
I could never be the same
My search is finally over now
I've found happiness within
All the answers to my empty dreams
and all that might have been
I love you all and miss you so
And I'll always be nearby
My bodys gone forever
But my spirit will never die
And so you must all go on now
Live one day at a time
Just understand
God didn't take me from you
"HE ONLY TOOK MY HAND"


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"WELCOME HOME"
(Author Unknown)

When I am gone release me, let me go
I have so many things to see and do
You must not tie yourself to me in tears
Be happy that we had so many years.

I have you my love and you can only guess
How much you gave to me in happiness.
I thank you for the love you have shown,
but now it’s time I traveled alone.

So i grieve a whail for me if grieve you must,
Then let your grief be soothed by trust
It’s only for a while that we must part
So bless the memories in your heart.

I won’t be far away, for life goes on
So if you need me, call and I will come,
though you can’t see or touch me, I’ll be near;
And if you listen with your heart, you’ll hear
All my love around you, soft and clear.

And then, when you must come this way alone,
I’ll greet you with a smile and a
Welcome Home

*******************************
A Letter from Above
(Author Unknown)

This was sent to me on my birthday this year.

I felt like it was a message from Tony to me.

Dear Mom and Dad,
I know this is a rough time for you. So I will be as gentle as I can be.
First of all, thank you for so many tears, particularly those shared with another that you love.
They are a gift to me, a precious tribute to your investment in me.
As you do your mourning, do it at your pace only.
Don't let anybody suggest that you do your grief work on their timetable.
Do whatever it takes to face directly the reality of what has happened,
even though you may need to pause frequently and yearn for my return.
Do this with courage and my blessings.
Know that sometimes inertia is the only movement possible.
Give your best to keeping a balance between remembering me and renewing your commitments to life.
It's O.K. with me if you go through minutes, hours and even days not thinking about me.
I know that you'll never forget.
Loosening me and grabbing hold of a new meaning is a delicate art.
I'm not sure if one comes before the other or not, maybe it's a combination.
Be with people who accept you as you are.
Mention my name out loud, and if they don't make a hasty retreat,
they're probably excellent candidates for friendship.
If, by a remote possibility, you think that there is anything that you could have done for me and didn't.
I forgive you, as my Lord does.
Resentment does not abide here, only love.
You know how people sometimes ask you how many children you have?
Well, I'm still yours and you are still my parents.
Always acknowledge that with tenderness, unless to do so would fall on insensitive ears or would be painful to you.
I know how you feel inside.
To be included as your child honors me.
Read, even though your tears annoint the page.
There is an immense library here and I have a card.
In Henri Nowens' "Out of Solitude", he writes,
"The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair and confusion,
who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement,
who can tolerate not healing, and face with us the reality of our powerlessness,
that is a friend who cares."
Mom and Dad, I don't know where you are spiritually now, but rest assured that our God is not gone.
The still small voice you hear in your heart is His voice.
The warmth that sometimes enfolds you is Him.
The tears that tremble just beneath your heartbeat is Him.
He is in you, as I am.
I want you both to know that I am O.K.
I have sent you messages to ease your pain,
they come in the form of flowers that bloom out of season,
birds singing, voices and visions and sometimes through your friends and even strangers who volunteer as angels.
Stay open but don't expect the overly dramatic.
You will get whet you need and it may be simply an internal peace.
You are not crazy, you have been comforted.
Please seek out people bereaved longer than you.
They are tellers of truth, and if they have done there work,
are an inspiration and a beacon of hope whose pain lessened dramatically and one more wisdom before I close.
There are still funny happenings in our world.
It delights me to no end when I hear your spontaneous, uncontrolled laughter.
That too, will come in due time.
Today, I light a candle for you.
Joined with your candle, let their light shine above the darkness.
Affectionately,
Your Angel child.
PS: I'll. see you later.

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