How do we remember?

Is it with flowers?

placed on a grave on a warm sunny day?

or is it with tears shed alone

in a place where none can see

is it with statues erected in the town square

or is it with words etched in the bark of a tree

a tattoo of  a loved one’s name

or a tear drop under the eye

is it with a prayer

whispered in the wind

or is it down on our knees

with a candle burning bright

how do we remember them

when they’ve gone from this earth

and we’re left here behind

because they’ll never be forgotten

our love goes on til our end

and someone else questions

how to remember us





What is after?


Is there a  world for us

after we leave this one that we know?

One where  you’re waiting for me

to hold you again; I pray that there is

And what is that world like?

Is there chocolate? pizza? or lemon meringue pie?

Does the grass grow green and the sun shine?


Will the birds there fly with us?

There must be birds there

because they have wings

Would we have wings too?

Would there be angels there with wings?

That would play harps to soothe us to sleep


Is there life after this?

Where there would be no pain; just love

Where we could sit on a beach

and watch the waves gently meet the shore

and see the whales breech and the dolphins

laugh and spin, inviting us to join in


Separate we are now

Will we be together again?

Where I can feel all that I felt

When first I held you in my arms?

Where the sun shines, the birds sing

and the wind gently whispers your name


Remember that time?

Because she can’t remember

what happened one minute ago,

I don’t ask her

what she had for breakfast

But I do ask, “remember that time

when I was little and we used to go for picnics?”

and she will smile  and come up with a story

whether it is totally invented or whether it’s true

It is still a good story

and we have a laugh together


Because she can’t remember

I don’t ask her

if any one has phoned her today

But I do ask her, “remember that time

when you were a little girl

and you fished with your dad?”

and she will smile and tell the story

that’s mostly true with a few mistakes

But it’s still a good story

and we have a laugh together


Because she can’t remember

I don’t ask her what this special day is,

But I do ask her, “remember when you met

my dad and went on your first date?”

And she will smile and tell the story

that changes from time to time

But it’s still a good story

and we have a laugh together


We can still talk

even if she can’t remember

when I walk away

what we talked about

Tomorrow is another day for stories

as long as she remembers


A little prayer goes a long way

Since I started praying things have been happening. Can’t explain it, other than the praying. It does take practice and commitment and a reminder to myself to slow down and say a little prayer. I’ve tried so many things to heal myself of the pain and loss of losing my son to suicide. Didn’t feel God for so long. Really believed He didn’t exist. So I started praying to Him. Nothing loud and drastic happened. Didn’t hear a voice from above. But I did hear a whisper. I did feel like He was listening.

When I’m alone I pray out loud, well it’s talking really, to someone I believe is listening. I used to talk to my dog or talk to my family members in Heaven, now I talk straight to God, most of the time. I still talk to my family, of course.

So what has happened? Nothing major that anyone else would notice. But I know. I’m seeing miracles all around me that I never would have noticed before. The most incredible miracle is me. I feel different. Since I started praying for faith, I have been feeling better because my faith is stronger. It is still a work in progress but I love the feeling that I have inside. Haven’t felt this free since Ryan died.  I am making steps in the right direction. The upward direction. And I’m going to keep trying.

I pray for peace in my soul.

I pray for faith in God.

I pray for patience.

I pray for love.

I Pray for kindness.

I pray for forgiveness.

I pray to be filled up with good stuff and I pray for the bad stuff to be removed.





Taking suicide personally

Someone dies. By suicide. By their own hand. By their own choice. We blame ourselves. We take it personally. That’s the really hard part in being left behind by suicide.

That person was in pain. The pain was in their mind. They saw no other way to stop the pain. That was all consuming.

But for us left behind, the pain just begins as we struggle to understand. It’s too late for us to respond. Too late. And we have to go on. It isn’t all about us.

God knows. He was there.


Finally…….Skydive Saturday happened… — Which me am I today?

Well……I woke up and listened for the wind rattling my window but all I could hear were the birds…….the dreaded cancellation email hadn’t pinged into my inbox the night before so it was looking hopeful, but I’ve learnt never to trust this British weather…. It had been cancelled the last 2 weekends and I’d decided […]

via Finally…….Skydive Saturday happened… — Which me am I today?