How Precious

Dedication: for some beloved friends of mine and their precious son.

How precious is a moment.

When tiny infant is dying.

When you say goodbye.

Times when sleep avades you.

This is when we treasure most.

Our memmories...

We fully absorb each moment.

For while they don't last forever...

In recolection they last for a time.

Memmory is such a gift.

Perhaps that is why Dementia is so painful.

The gift is taken away.

But it is something shared stroungly by others.

When one forgets, another recalls.

All stand together, sharing these moments.

One that I will hold dear is that of little Daniel.

A little star that shined who's light is held and will not be forgoten.

This poem is for him and his parents and family.

May we not forget that he lived and was so loved.

Let us share in the preious memmory of little Daniel. 

Dear you...

Dear you who I miss.

Dear you who I remember.

Dear you who I envision as I write.

 

You were my Grandma.

When I did something (happy or shameful) your arms were there.

Grandma, Mother, Wife, and dear friend, your mere presence a haven.

 

Softly lighting and warming a room with (what my Mum named) your 'secret smile'.

You secretly liked it when Granddad said something soppy. 

Responding with an 'Oh, Ian!' 

 

Ian brought you tea and a song each morning.

Anne, Sue, Bruce, Graeme love and joy. 

So much you gave up your job! Someone had to raise them.

Then it grew to Grandkids. Dan, Bron, Meg, Matt and then family pets Thomas the cat and dogs Dobby, Choo, and Finley. You loved us and were a lifeline for our parents who we drove up the wall.

But, according to the fridge magnet, one of the reasons you have children is so you can have grandchildren, and you spoiled us rotten.  You gave so many fun memories of silly games and songs, books, puzzles, and museum trips and more. Every day with you full of joy for me. 

I was so sad when you left us, I only celebrated Christmas because I remembered that you would have. 

So, I sung and put-up lights where my housemates could enjoy them, thinking of you as I did. Because whatever happens Christ still came into the world knowing he would suffer, die (be separated from his father), and rise again. 

That gives me hope. For you died knowing and believing that you. Because of that we (and other Christians) believe we will get to see each other again because Christ did not come and die for nothing. He died to bring us into God's family.

So, one day I will see you, and Aunty Anne, and Nanna Jo and everyone else who has died knowing and believing in Christ and trusting him, will be as one family.

Now let us rejoice and be glad, even though we mourn, for the shining hope that Christmas brings.

Whatever tomorrow and next year brings let us remember.

"For this is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!'

Psalm 118:24 ESV

I miss my Grandma... reader who do you miss? 

A friend named Grief

Grief is different for everyone
Grief is shaped by why it has come
Grief is nesscessary to allow for healing.
Grief can hurt without limit.
Grief takes awhile to get used to.
Grief can be there as long as is needed.
Grief takes sometime to befriend.

Grief, I was avoiding, dreading your arrival.
But now I see you, standing before me.
You hurt me to repair me.
Like a dislocated limb being put back in place.
There is a sudden jolt of the bone, as it is put back in.
The people around me help me to go through the motions.

The dislocation will have always happened.
Yet with it, my strength has grown as love is shown.
At one time or another, we have all known you Grief.
So we are there for oneanother, through your visits.
If we did not experiance and learn to accept your presence...
We would not be full human beings.
Even Jesus wept. Fully God and fully man, he wept.

Together we can learn to say the words:
'Thanks for coming Grief. I know you better now.
Untill we meet again...'

Nanna Jo

Dedication: Nanna Jo we will miss you untill we meet again.

I don't want to through greif again.
Yet here I am in the mist of it.
It's past 1am and my head is too full to sleep.

But every now and then...
I do something good.
I read my bible like you would.

No matter your faults.
You would turn to God your Father.
To ask for his guidence and forgiveness.

Nanna Jo, you had a great big heart.
Not always right, not always wroung.
You were all in... see you again in heaven.

Love you always,
Meg.

1 Thessalonians 4:13- 14 (NLV) 
"And now, dear brothers and sisters, we want you to know what will happen to the belivers who have died so that you will not grieve like those who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and was raised to life again, we also believe that when Jesus returns, God will bring with him the beleivers who have died."

Choo

Dedication: To Choo, who we remember with much fondness. 

Choo was a rescue dog, we are still not sure who rescued who.
Choo was a gorgeous, daggy dog.
Choo was always a very dear, very intelligent, selfless, and protective animal.
Choo was a family dog, sure to make the saddest heart smile.

She had the goofiest grin.
She made an effort to be with her people, even if moving hurt her.
She was most contented when she was with those she loved, chicken or not.

Choo taught me to relax, take it slow and treasure each moment.
Choo made everyone's days brighter and better.
Choo would dance when we came home.
Choo would sleep by your side, twitching and groaning with content if the mood took her.

She was the best of companions.
She didn't ask questions, or pester you for attention, knowing that you where there was enough.
She was there for us all, from first to last.

R.I.P you wonderful and beautiful hound. Best of friends.

Note: This is a poem written on behalf of Christians that have died and gone to be with God the Father.

Remember me 

When I go remember me.

For you are left and I can no longer be on your right. 

Remember me, for I am gone.

Grief is strong and hard to bear.

Yet all of us have dealings with it.

May our Heavenly Father aid you from here on in, for I cannot.

Continue life's journey with your load,

of photographs and places we can no longer go.

Remember me, for I am gone.

There are traces of me, in faces and hearts
of  people you know. They are living and whole.

As I pray you will grow to be once again.

Please keep your merry laugh, as the days move past.

Emerge from the fog of grief, with God in your heart.  

Remember me, for I am gone. 

Upon The Beach of Grief

Grief comes in five waves of

emotions caused by

treacherous winds of pain and

regret.

Grief causes unique reactions in

individuals triggering

transformations and

determinations within the

individuals dampened

by this tide of

bereavement.

 When bearing up to such an

experience these individuals

endeavour to uncover

for themselves the right sort of

towel in which to wrap the

pain and confusion that is caused by

this rather

debilitating disorder.

The trouble is; there is only one that

will truly dry one and

not disappoint.

Only one that will not become threadbare

and leave one with little or no protection

against the great gusts of despair as they

essay to entangle and an entrap one in it's

dull-full tries.

This is the ever reliable,

unmistakable and comforting,

fortifying towel of

God's grace.