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July 2015

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Leesburg Chapter

July 2015

 

A Warm Welcome

Louin Beard, father of Sandra Mussman


Gus Blank & Mary O’Brien, parents of Eric Blank

Dani Barker & Lynn Blank, sisters of Eric Blank

 

Butterflies Make Me Happy

Sometimes in our grief we truly believe we are going crazy. We hurt so bad we don’t think we can manage to go on living without our precious child here with us. Part of the grieving process is learning how to do just that. Some parents need the reassurance that their child is okay. I think the human mind can only take so much pain and jumps at the chance to see signs from their children, reassuring them that they are okay.

The way I look at it, if you get comfort from a dream or a sign...enjoy it. You’ve suffered enough, and believing in signs, butterflies, dreams or what ever else gives you comfort and hurts no one else, is your right as a bereaved person.

Are these signs real, or just in my imagination? Can I prove they are messages from my son? Does it even need to be proven?

No, I can’t scientifically prove it. But I know that dreams, butterflies, signs and enjoyment in nature makes me feel closer to Eric and therefore I will continue to enjoy them.

It hurts no one, I’m not obsessive about it and anyone who chooses to think I’m nuts for believing in such things, can think I’m nuts.

We’ve all heard how the butterfly is a symbol of rebirth whether it’s our child moving from this world onto a higher plane, or a bereaved parent emerging from the cocoon of grief into a world without our child here. With us, butterflies are a comfort for many. When I’m missing my son and see a butterfly flittering from flower to flower, I smile and feel better. When I’m in a happy mood and see a butterfly, I enjoy the beauty of such a delicate creature. Taking the time to slow down and watch such a fragile creature going about its business is calming and I don’t think anyone should discount the benefits from having a calming moment. About four months after Eric died, I had a dream about him. I woke myself up from tears of joy running down my face, I knew he was okay...what a relief that was. I still hurt terribly and missed him more than I thought I could endure, but I felt comforted by the dream. Some could say it was my subconscious trying to sort things out, but I choose to believe it was his way of trying to comfort me. Either way, it made me feel better. Maybe it’s because bereaved parents walk around in such a fog and function on automatic pilot that we are moving slow enough to notice the signs that are around us. Maybe dreams are one way for us to accept messages we need to hear and take them into our hearts without logically trying to interpret them. Maybe faith is what we rely on when nothing else makes sense and we instinctively know we need something to hold on to.

Whatever it is, just give me a second helping; I like feeling closer to my son!

~Lynn Vines, TCF, South Bay/L.A., CA In Memory of my son, Eric

 

Flight of Hope

We find in the flight of butterfly wings,


A message of hope and more heavenly things,


Take time to be kind and take time to smile,


Life is fleeting, we may only be here for a little while.

~Beverly Elero, TCF, Leesburg, VA

 

The Butterfly

Butterfly, don’t pass me by. Stop and light for a little while. Soothe me with your soft sensation;
give me hope and consolation.

Butterfly, don’t pass me by. Stop and light for a little while. Help me to release my sorrow;
deed me strength to meet tomorrow.

Butterfly, don’t pass me by. Stop and light for a little while. Oh, lift me up and let me feel the
peace and freedom you reveal.

Butterfly, don’t pass me by. Stop and light for a little while. Remind me to thank God above
for cradling me in His great love.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted - Psalm 34:18

~Written by Connie Wade, for Lori Kern in memory of Emily Elizabeth Ellis