This post is getting out a little later than I anticipated, but I have been trying to decide what to write about this week.  I have been writing some poems lately.  The words just come to mind and then one line begins to flow into the next.  Before I know it I have a complete thought and a finished poem.  I have been trying to decide if I wanted to share them or keep them to myself.  The idea of writing has come easily to me generally, but poems come in short bursts.  The first one I wrote was for our Christmas card we sent out in 2011…our first Christmas without Samantha.  Now that poem is a key part of Samantha’s Dragonfly.  I have decided that poems are as equally as good as one of my normal blog posts.  The first poem is the one that I created just before Christmas and goes with each dragonfly that I make.  So, with a little hesitation still, here goes…

Dragonflies

Such beauty and grace, delicate and light

Washing calm and peace throughout

Bearer of comfort and strength

A little messenger, dropping by to say hi

Sometimes lingering, sometimes just but a moment

Soaring high, sparkling in the sun

Heavenly connection, closer to you my angel

Tears

tears streaming down almost like rain on the window

tears of sadness, of loss, of frustration

tears of hope, while giving in

tears of unanswered prayers

tears, the words of our heart

 With Each Storm, Comes A Rainbow

As the sky darkens

As the storm rolls in

As the rain begins to fall

My thoughts begin to wonder

Then as the rain begins to quicken

The lightening begins to flash

The thunder rolls

My focus shifts and my thoughts quiet

The sky begins to clear

Blue sky and white clouds

As the storm moves off into the distance

In between a beautiful rainbow

And there is calm

I am a mother

I am a mother

On the inside I know

But on the outside it doesn’t show

While my little girl rests in my heart

She is held by God’s loving arms

 

I grieve and I heal

I grieve and I heal

Sometimes I am happy

Other times I am sad

And yet I may be both at once

On the outside things may look good

But on the inside I may be falling to pieces

I may be falling to pieces on the outside

But on the inside I am cleansing my soul

It’s process with no finish line

I learn as I go and may not always understand

I grieve and I heal

 

 

Better Than a Hallelujah” Lyrics

God loves a lullaby
In a mother’s tears in the dead of night
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

God loves the drunkard’s cry
The soldier’s plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

The woman holding on for life
The dying man giving up the fight
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

The tears of shame for what’s been done
The silence when the words won’t come
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

Better than a church bell ringing
Better than a choir singing out, singing out

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah

(Better than a Hallelujah sometimes)
Better than a Hallelujah
(Better than a Hallelujah sometimes)

 

February 17-
Today was a tough day. There is no other word to describe it. It was all around tough. This week’s theme at work is life cycles, so there is a lot about babies. Mostly songs and activities that talking about what it was like when you were a baby. Today it was singing rock a bye baby during our music time that did me in. Fortunately the teacher who was with me totally understood what was going on and took over for me. I wonder if the kids can tell what I am feeling by looking at me. During these times I try to avoid direct contact. Usually I find somewhere else in the room to be or some other activity to hopefully help me to ignore what is going on. After this, I decided to go easy on the day and take a nice long break. Which this means Dunn Brothers and some quiet time. Dunn Brothers has been my comfort food over the past week.

I am very nervous about tomorrow. I will be having a teacher in the room that doesn’t want to be there and won’t do anything in the room. I am not sure how I am going to make it through the day having to put forth double energy with no one to fall back on. Tomorrow is just going to be a rough day.

I have realized though, that there are just going to be some natural triggers over the next few months that will cause the tears to shed. Fortunately I have identified some of them, unfortunately it is the day to day ones that I didn’t realize that would just pop up seemingly out of now where and cause a rush of emotions. I am going to have to learn how to deal with these triggers that just show up throughout the day unannounced.

 

February 15-

I am finding out that being at work is tougher than I thought and somewhat impedes on my grief time. Thus, making it take longer to get through things. There are a lot of days I come home from work with tears on the drive home. For instance, yesterday I had a parent say to me “wow! You still seem really thing, how far a long are you again?” My response was simple “I was 17 weeks”. She understood, asked a few questions and that was that. At least it was from her perspective, but from mine I could feel myself beginning to turn inward more and shrink up.

Each day I go into work and have to put on a façade while there for the kids and parents. It isn’t always easy to keep up sometimes and I melt down in the bathroom or a few tears while in the classroom. I was asked today how things were going and we began a bit of a talk. Some things are harder than others and there are all these pup up triggers which make it tougher (like my snow pants fitting better than ever, we were doing a life cycles unit and the kids had to bring in their baby pictures). I also mentioned that it is good to be at work, but yet it is not. Maybe this would all be a little easier if I didn’t work with kids and families every day.

 

Today I visited.  It was the first time back to the cemetery since the service and memorial.  I first stopped at the memorial wall.  We had received a letter in the mail saying your name had been inscribed onto the wall.  I found your beautiful name on the wall.  I touched it. I said it over and over in my mind.  I took a few pictures while I was there.  Then it hit me like a wall.  The tears began to flow-tears of sorrow, tears of frustration, tears of wonder, tears of why, tears of peace.  I went to the grave site then.  Although there was no grave stone yet I could tell that it was the right place.  Could you tell that I was there?  I felt that your presence was there.  Why?… Because as I walked back to the car I heard a cardinal.  And before I opened the car door I began to hear several more cardinals, singing their song.  They seem to say “I’m okay mommy.  I am in good hands”.   When I got home I put a lovely memorial stone your grandma gave us in our garden and place maroon pansies and yellow snapdragons around it.  So delicately a yellow flower had landed on the cross on the stone.  I took several photos of it feeling a sense of peace flow over me.

 

January 29-

Woke up, in tears and Raun and I holding each other.  Weekend-Mom Dad Up-Katie stopped in the am with a gift from primrose and Dunn Brothers coffee for us and to see how we were doing also told me that I didn’t need to be back til Thursday and if I wouldn’t be up for that that was okay-psw gave us let’s dish meals to last a lot of meals (as of 2/21 still had stuff left, cause we mixed in cooked meals) a peace lily plant (with dragon fly in it), and cash (we put it towards Samantha’s name being engraved on the wall)-mom and dad came up for the remainder of the weekend, we went to cheeky monkey to eat dinner, talked a little throughout the night

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