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July 2016

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Leesburg Chapter

July 2016


A Warm Welcome

Jacqueline Byers, mother of Robert

Erin & Tim Gallagher, parents of Jay


Summertime and the livin’ is not easy

Fish are jumpin’ but we’re feelin’ low.

Your daddy’s sad and your mama’s crying

So hush, hush a bye, your child had to go.

One of these mornings

We’re gonna rise up singing

Then we’ll spread our wings

And take to the sky.

But till that morning

We’re gonna miss you

Your daddy and mama are standing by.

Summertime and the livin’ is easy

You’re with Jesus in heaven so high

Some day we’ll join you up in the sky

So hush, hush a bye, we’ll never have to cry.

(Adapted from George Gershwin's “Summertime”)

~Beverly Elero, TCF, Leesburg, VA


Footprints in the Sand

There was a day of sunshine

When you followed after me.

Bare feet in cool sand.

Small prints skipping

Through swirls of foam

Upon the shore.

Even as we danced and laughed,

The waves crashed against the rocks.

Yet when I looked behind us,

Only smooth sand remained.

The sea had erased our marks.

People have ceased

To speak of you

And grow uncomfortable

When I do.

But I refuse to let them,

Like the sea,

Erase your memory.

~Karen Nelson, TCF, Sioux Falls, SD



It sounds so easy. A soft, warm word — time to run barefoot, time to leave windows open all night. Summertime. Somehow it seems, doesn’t it, that it’s especially meant for children. Children on beaches, children on swings, children in large pools, children in tiny tubs.

We who do not have all of our children with us may feel the summertime in two ways. One is to remember shared events and adventures — there were so many. Long rides in a hot car, a nap in the back seat. The famous question, “Are we there yet?” Everything from a heat rash to ice cream cones and sand castles.

For us, another way to feel summertime is the special emptiness brought about by children who are no longer on this earth. They used to trot along on hikes in the hills; they used to gather wood for an evening fire. Now summer brings us again the melancholy awareness of their absence. Have you ever walked on some unfamiliar path, surprised about not having been there with the children? Even when there’s nothing to remember, we are reminded of the children’s absence.

We have been diminished by death. Some of us may still have living children. Other parents have no children left. They have lost an only child, perhaps. Or all of their children died. And here we are, grateful for the warmth of summer mornings, aware of the ripe beauty of nature, trying to deal with our children’s absence with all the grace of which we are capable. Often we do not want to burden others with our grief. Or we may be convinced that others don’t wish to share our distress. We have learned, after all, that the world around us is not always able to understand how we feel.

Besides, we were taught to be brave. Many of us will do everything we can to appear “normal” after our loss. But we were also taught to be honest. And when you feel the hurt, when you seem almost to be lost in the shadows of this golden summertime, don’t hide your sorrow. The grief of your spirit can perhaps be kept a secret on the outside. Yet, your deepest feelings, unexpressed, can burn into your existence with harmful force.

You can be both brave and honest. You know that it’s brave to share grief, be it old grief or new grief. And revealing that sorrow is also honest. Of course, nothing can wipe away much of your pain, but sharing grief is helpful. You will know that after you have expressed the painful sorrow you once kept hidden, and you find yourself, finally, smiling at the memories and the blessings of past summertimes.

~Sascha Wagner