Not There

the sadness is getting a little harder each day...please pray that God will allow us to have a blessed Christmas even though it will be bittersweet...Tierney, Amelia, and Jake cannot come home because Amelia cannot fly yet, and then there's Jeff- I miss him so much it hurts...never been apart at Christmas since I first got him...so hard...just so hard to have my babies away from me...I'm gonna need His strength and lots of prayers...feeling lost and overwelmed...

I remember when we first got the children. The boys came with a bag of girls clothes. It wasn't intentional, an accident of the "wrong bag". But the boys were so excited to go and pick out their own clothes, bedding, and etc. Jeff loved brand named items always. He loved the newness of new clothes- to have something noone else had ever had.

Every morning at Christmas, I would be amazed how he always got me the exact appliance I needed. I never told him, but he just watched me throughout the year and knew instinctively what I needed to make our busy lives easier. Jeff was good about that. He didn't show much emotion outright, but he showed it in so many small ways. So many "Jeff" ways.

I think the most amazing memory of Jeff at Christmas was the year I opened the gift from him and it was one of his favorite stuffed toys and whistles. I knew he had given me one of his precious treasures and it brought tears to my eyes. I looked at him and he looked at me and we knew...we knew the love was there. I remember through the years looking at that toy and remembering what that gift cost jeff. It cost him giving away something that was his and to a child who had everythig taken away from him, that was huge to give up a possession.
 Last year he didn't have any money so he gave me a picture of a smurf that he'd colored. I know for a college kid that seems silly, but Jeff knew me so well that for me. I would rather have something they made for me than a million dollars. Today  that picture is one of my most treasured gifts and will stay in my treasure chest where I keep all of my priceless possessions. The look on his face when he gave it to me was priceless...no apologies...just waiting for me to make over it which I did...

It had been very hard this Christmas season . The wave of grief has been hitting hard and knocking me over so much that I feel as if I will drowned in my tears. I compensate by pretending nothing is wrong, but it is. It is so very, very wrong. I cannot fathom how we decorated the tree without him. How we will make cookies, or food without him. Mainly I cannot imagine waking up Christmas morn without his smiling face always watching quietly from the sidelines to see what everyone else has gotten and if they are happy. His ornaments hang from the tree, but he is not here. His treasures and clothing lay in a trunk downstairs, but he is not there.

So I make my pilgrimage to the old cemetary and I place a poinsetta in the urn and I wipe off the snow...and he is not there. I stop, I stare, and long to see him where he is. My heart aches because I cannot be with him. I long to figure out all of this mess and to turn back the clock. Every song, evry place, every friend of his reminds me that he is not there. I do not know what will happen. I do not know how I will cope. I just know that I will. I will ride the ebb of this tormenting, agonizing grief, and I will overcome it. I will not ever be whole again. there will always be a huge piece of my heart missing. The tear will never really heal, it will just become a scar, that like any war wound, I will have stories and pictures to brag about. But it will still be that , a war wound. One whose battle I fought long and hard and lost; lost so dearly and lost so much. I didn't want to fight that fight. I didn't even want to be a soldier in that war, but I was "called" and try as I might to put a deaf ear on that call, I answered it with vigor. The call to be an adoptive Mom was so strong that it nearly bowled me over with the urging. God knew who we were and what we were capable of...or did He? But who am I to question His will when I have so very much to be thankful for.

I sometimes wonder if this time...this time He may have given me too much. I could handle raising these children, but I am sure having troubles with the burying part. This was not in those contracts, not on any dotted line. I want a "do over'...I want to escape back to last Christmas and hold Jeffrey in my arms and beg him to move home...I want to face possible hate and rejection...after all, anger would be better than this, right? I do not know. And I guess after a while I get tired of not knowing and looking to see if he is there.

Where is Jeffrey? Everyone says he is happy and he is in heaven...I know I believe it, but as a mother I cannot fathom that... I just cannot. I selfishly want him. I want to hold his hand, stroke his hair, cook for hime, fold his clothes, ....I sometimes wonder if I could unbury him and hold him forever. Does this make me crazy? I do not know- I've been crazy before over these kids.
Like the time the teacher made Timara take off her hat that she agreed Timara could wear for pictures and her hair stuck to her head. Then that teacher wouldn't let her call home to have me help her with her hair. Boy did I rake her over the coals. "Well Mrs. Burd, I have apolojized, what would you have me do?" the teacher said sarcastically. "I would have you make yesyterday never happen!" I blared back with my hands on my hip.  "that is impossible", she said quietly. "Yes, and tell that to my daughters humiliated spirit." That teacher never messed with my kid again. I pulled her outta school and waited for a better one to come along.
Like the time that some kid called Dragos a retard and Timara picked the fat kid up, laid him on the ground and made him eat dirt. Noone messed with her brother, but her.
Like the time James through rocks at the school window to see how many it would take to break it....five...it takes five.
Like the time Lacey swallowed Campho Phenic and had to have her stomach pumped. If I hadn't insisted , "Do it- pump her stomach," that child would be here walking today.
Like the time Tierney read a book by herself after we struggled all year to get her caught up in reading. She graduated sixth grade with all her friends and I balwed in my seat.
Like the time Joshua had a severe pain in his abdoman and the docs couldn't figure out what was wrong and I insisted I stay overnight with him in the hospital. He didn't want to be babied, but I didn't care. i rubbed his head until he went to sleep and watched him all night.
Like the time Dragos beat all the fat kids in the 70 meter run in track and I wept on my knees as I cheered him on. Only to look in the stands and see everyone weeping too. Pretty good for a kid who wasn't supposed to live much else walk or talk.
Like the time I prayed to God to take Katce from this world when she had meningitous and was in so much pain- or give the pain to me- anything than watch her suffer so. And God broke that fever that very next minute.
Like the times I watched Kayla suffer as she wauted for her bio dad to show up even though he never did. how I buried her head in my lap, and figured out how to bail him outta jail so she could see him. I never told her where he was. A kid doesn't need to know that adults in their lives can be idiots.
Like the time I held jeff as he cried and cried because his heart was so broken that his bio dad walked away from him and didn't love him. I lied and said I knew his dad did that he was just too young and drugged out to keep him.Like the time I found Jeff hiding in a corner afraid to tell me he had wet the bed because he was afraid that I would make him sleep inthe bathtub with peed underwear on his head like had been done to him by other "parents". Like the time he begged me not to lock him in the closet when he was bad because it too had been done before. Like the time I held him while he was going through r
ritulan withdraw and fighting anyone in his path. Like the time I listened to him call me a "bitch" and telling me his whole life was my fault and watching him walk away.  Like the time I lay on the floor with the flu and I puked and then Jeff puked together all day in pain, but together. Like the time Jeff stole our car because he couldn't deal with the fact that Katce may die of meningitous and begging someone to help him mentally. Like the time I didn't sleep all night because Jeff was angry and kept sleeping with weapons under his bed and praying he wouldn't hurt us. Like the time I begged the prosecuting attorney to just get Jeff help and drop the domestic abuse charges.  Like the time I spent my whole week finding jeff a job, bringing him home to live, staying up with him, watching him every minute until I could get him talked into getting help and then when I did I found him the next day dead. And finally, like the time katce and I covered him with a blanket before they laid him in that cold ground to be buried forever.
 I worry over them and mother over them all everyday. Death didn't stop that with my Jeffy. Even when he left our home, I still called in the storms to check on him. I still wonder if he is happy and what he is up to.My mothering him will never ever stop. is this normal? I do not know.

I just want this ache to stop overtaking me. i want to just be soft, and peaceful and quiet inside. most days I am, but not today. because jeffy is not there. he is not where I expect him nor where I want him to be. I will have to reast in the fact that this Christmas will happen, it will come and go and we will make new memories...but that Jeff will not be there....

The Panic

Today was a good day. In fact, today was a great day. And it is on these days that somewhere, out of the blue, panic will set in. A panic over Jeff that is so strong that it is like a wave of nausea that quickly makes you throw up. It isn't like this always, just sometimes. But the sometimes are hard and they hit so dark...if it weren't for Christ...I wouldn't recover the nausea...I would just throw up all day...

When James called and said that there had been an accident- my heart sank. I could feel my throat tighten up for about 3 seconds and I wanted to panic. But as he continued to narrate the story and it was clear that Timara was helping a friend who was just in a scary accident at school, but was alright...I began to breath easier. And while there were prayers sent up and much concern for the parties involved...it was "do"able. Little did I know...

We arrived at the school to watch Timara's game and I was prepared for the uncomfortableness that I always get when entering that gym. The acute awareness that Jeff was here. His people were here. Much of his life was spent right here in this gym. What I wasn't prepared for was how I would ract when I saw Timara's friend, Em, who had been in the accident. There she was, sitting on a low bleacher, pale as a ghost, trying to stay quiet and be a part of the game- yet not. Her mother sat behind her, carefully monitoring her daughter. The closer I got to sit with them, the more I felt obsessed with Em. I could see the bruising. I could see some scratches and blood. I could see she was still frightened and in pain. I could see I needed to mother her. And then came the panic. The overwelming need to push her mother aside, take Em into my arms, and make her awful care accident away. I wanted to take her home, mother her , and make sure that she was well. It ran through my mind more than once that I would have her in the hospital right now, that I would demand every test on the face of this earth in order to insure her safety- needed or not. But I don't know this child this well, and I am not her mother, who is a great mother, and would never endanger her child. So, I kept babbling to her, trying to nonchalontly mother her, and somehow get this awkward feeling about Em and her appearance and her owies to go away. I watched her so much that I could hardly watch the game. I could hardly concentrate....the need to "fix" her was overwelming. I kept watching her...kept questioning her mother, kept offering to help in some way. I had to mother this child and the feeling got stronger and stronger until I almost reached out and stroked her pretty lil head. And it wasn't until her mother took her home early to rest that I looked up and I realized why I was feeling panicky- why I couldn't get Em and the need to take care of her out of my mind. It was him....

I heard the buzzer sounding. I knew that we had lost the game. But my eyes remained fixed on the records board up on that gym wall. Fixed on Jeff's name. Fixed on Jeff's accomplishments. Fixed on his life. And then it hit me..the panic...the hot tears...the overwelming sense of loss. the need to turn and run and run and bury my head in anyone who could shelter me from this pain. It was Jeff...I wanted to mother Em because when I came upon Jeff's car and realized there was blood and realized...I had to get into that car...and that I couldn't ...and that it was too late...I could not mother him. i could nit make this better. i could not ever ever make him better again....I fell to my knees and raised my hand to the only entity who could help Jeff and that was God. And the ambulance came...and I couldn't see him...and I couldn't touch him....and I couldn't make sure he was dead or heaven help me...alive... I could only do what what I was told....answer questions and walk away...But with Em....I could help...I could take care of her...I could mother her...I could make it all better. Only I couldn't- for Em is not my child. She has a mother. A good mother. One who would die for her. So I, I had to remain trapped in this horrible panic of helplessness because she was not my child- nor was she Jeff. And so i sat. i sat in a room full of people and I wept. I wept for Em. I wept for me. I wept for Jeff. I wept because it wasn't supposed to be like this. Not for him. Not for me. Not for us. I felt all of the memories as rush back. All of the baskets. All of the finish lines. All of the cheering. All for Jeff. I saw him....winning, striving, hearing me cheer him on. I saw all of races. All of his fouls, his baskets, his touchdowns. All of the things that made him the great athlete that he was.
And I wept until I looked up and met his eyes......
"Looked up didn't you..." he said quietly and I nodded. "Don't ever look up..." and he took my hand and padded it."The car is on this side why don't you take kate and go out there..." I nodded again.
I looked around and realized that everyone in that gym had no idea that pain that I was in. They had no idea that while they waited for their daughters to amerge from the locker room, that my life had went to hell and back there in that five minute interval of time. Will it always be like this? Will i always get well meaning hugs, but feel so alone, and so knowing in a room full of people. Will I and I alone alwyas have this sick know;ledge that in a split second your life can change, and scare the hell out of you for the rest of your life. Will there ever be a normal? Will there ever be a day when i can't see him, sense him, hear him, and smell him? Will I ever be able to live?

I do not know. I know that when Sarah asked to watch Katce inthe hallway...and I made up some lame excuse that she couldn't I wanted to turn to her, take her hands, and yell, "Are you kidding me? I have to watch her. I have to know where she is all of the time. What if something happens to her...I love you sarah and you are a great mother, but I have to see her every minute. I have to!" I love Sarah. She is truly a great gift. But she does not know (and I pray to God she never does). The panic. The fear. The sheer terror of not seeing Katce and sometimes the overwelming sense of dread that this death could snatch another one from me.....take another one of my babies and leave me to die this slow death of this disease called life.
No, I do not feel like this everyday. I do not panic everytime when I cannot see them or they are away from me. Omly sometimes. So if you see me, or any other parent who has lost a child either by suicide or any other means, hug them, smile at them, look into their eyes with genuine concern. And when they say that they are okay...know that sometimes they are lying and just. just be their friend. (Thanks for the hug tonight Michele Siple...you have no idea how much it helped)....

Letting Go

Sometimes it frightens me to know that each and everyday I let a little more of you go with God to heaven. This journey has been so hard and such an uphill battle. I know- I know that you are already in heaven and that in reality, I should have given you up to him and not fought this process so much. But ...I ...couldn't...I had to hang on to you and my dreams for you. I have dreamt them since I first laid eyes on that big bright smile. And I know alot of times they were my dreams and not yours ...and I know that sometimes your many talents were your biggest downfall....but in you I saw everything that I had always wanted to be....lovable, cherished, talented, funny....Today I will let go of many things because today, you will never be a part of our being Thankful again.
Today I am letting go of ...
the fact that I will never see you become the olympic runner you were meant to be,
I will never walk into your classroom and watch you teach a group of naughty preschoolers,
the look on your face as she walks down the aisle and becomes your wife,
watching tears roll down your face as she delivers your first child while I watch from the sidelines,
waiting for you to come home,
and mostly watching you grow into the man that I know God planned you to be.

I know I should be happy that you are with Christ. But I am not. I selfishly want you here to experience all of the things that God has blessed us with since your death....
Dragos lived through a major seizure and is still driving us crazy,
Caleb called me "Duck" instead of Grandma,
Joshua is driving a "Stang", got his ears pierced, and Dad still loves him,
Timara is in "love" and dating and so beautiful,
Kayla had the twins Cullen and J'Lynn and they are awesome and she is a great Momma,
James has starred in a play and is really coming into himself and showing his "moves",
Lacey and Ben had Jesse come help with the ministry and watching them parents a "fast" Caleb...
and finally Jake and Tierney had their beautiful lil girl Amelia whom you would adore and have a beautiful marriage...
you missed it Jeff, all of these memories, all of your family and friends going on with life. Not because they want to but because they have to. And we will continue to go on, each holiday, each day for the rest of our lives. But never ever forget that we miss you in each memory, each moment, each day. For you my son, were always meant to be a part of this family- this life. And so you are...in our hearts forever.
Happy Thanksgiving Day Son....today as I make some memories...I will certainly miss you...
Love,
Always,
Momma

This month has been very tough for me. I am exhausted as another one of our children and grandchildren came close to death. It was a very frightening experience to realize again that in an instant you have no control over anything. I wanted to run, to hide, to bury my head in as deep a sand that I could find. But I did not. I went into the bathroom, got down on my knees and begged God for these lives. Begged Him to spare them and leave them with me. And after many hours..He did. I realized that I did not have that chance with Jeff, I wasn't allowed to beg for his life because he chose to take it. I realized, that in my mind, I thought if I was with my daughter in her greatest time of need, that I could somehow prevent any wrongness to happen to her. Sadly, i cannot. I am not God. Heck, I'm barely me. But what I can control is how I react to the situation; Whom I turn to, and how I let go. So now this journey is taking on a new issue...letting go...letting go of control, letting go of Jeff, letting go and letting God.

I have decided to let go of people in this life who make me feel that I am not allowed to have my own feelings or be who I truly am. It is too hard right  now to jump through hoops and apolojize for my every thought or motive. I just want to "be"...Tim says I have to just walk away...
And finally, I have let go of the fact that I could have stopped Jeff because, quite frankly, I could not. I did everything I could to stop him. But he was going to do this regardless of what day and with what weapon. I know that now and it's okay. Am I sad? Sure. Will I have those dark days? Sure. But when I have those days it will be because my heart aches so for a child who chose not to be with me, but with Christ instead. It will not be because I failed. Despite what some lifesucking people have told me all of my life, I am not a failure...I may have had a few failures, but I , myself, am not a failure. And I will continue to prevent future failure until the day of Christ....

Attitude Check...

The Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
... and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely
happy with Him forever in the next.
Amen

Lord,
Help me to always be heard in love and to never be taken too seriously and protect me from those whose intention it is to hurt or manipulate me. Forgive me for a word taken wrongly for it should never be my intention to hurt someone. Take off my blinders and help me to be better each day. Thank you for this journey and for the people you have placed in my life to uphold me. In Christ's name...Amen.

Please Do Not Judge Me...you are not invited to do so....

After a week of hard observations...God has lead me to write this ...however...it isn't intended for anyone in particular- just thoughts that have been on my mind. If anyone is offended, please forgive me as that is never ever my intent...
Somehow people believe that those of us who experience suicide especially that of a child, experience the same grieving process as those of a nonsuicidal death....totally not so...the fear and the guilt with a suicidal death is much deeper and never ends. Please do not misunderstand where I am coming from- simply know that finding your child dead from his own hand is not something that I will ever... ...ever get over and to expect this process to be over or want me to be joyous when someone dies because they are experiencing heaven is insensitive to my needs as not only a mother but as a person as well. While death in itself is horrendous, when a child decides to end their life, their life never comes to fruition nor do your dreams for that child. Those dreams and hopes don't die with your child...they are still hidden in your heart. To expect me to just pack up these hopes and put them away is as easy as burying him was- never to see his face again. You are wrong that heaven should hold joy for me. Heaven holds my child and the only way I can see him is to die...so do I kill myself to spend eternity with him- leaving eight other children and four grandchildren without me? So you see, while you may have grieved in your lifetime, you have not grieved a suicide. You have not walked in my shoes, and quite frankly- I pray you never have to.....

Today I learned a valuable lesson- that you really know who your friends are when the chips are down. I wrote a blog (the one above) a few weeks ago, that was spurred on by a few conversations that I had had with several people over a period of time. I had also spoken with a friend of mine who has actually experienced the death of a child by suicide and she totally felt the way I was feeling- that death of a suicidal nature is different then suffering a regular loss by death. The blog was about being judged. What I was asking for was compassion for myself and others who are experiencing this awful grief, but what I got was a total misconstrued, angry post from a woman whom I have looked up to in many times of my life. So now because of what I felt lead to write this woman has broken off a twenty one year friendship and I am left with the holidays coming up that we have to face without Jeff, and now dissention...oh how I dislike dissention...
Sometimes I wonder what people think when they verbally attack someone...or what happened to them they they think everything is about them and everyone is out to hurt them. Life is just too short for this game playing. why can't we just love each other for our opinions...I do not know...I cannot change who I am or how I feel for anyone...not anymore...I have realized that life is too short to chase my tail for someone else...I'm too busy chasing it on my own...

He see's me in the morning,
Lifting him out of bed.
The sun comes with little warning,
A brand new day's ahead.
To the kitchen for some breakfast,
A plate of toasted bread,
A cup of milk just as expected,
Close your eyes and bow your head.

You can thank him for anything you want to,
For the flower's and the trees
And pray,Lord Jesus, make me,
A little boy on my knees.

He's Mommy's little helper.
Learning to comb his hair.
And loves his baby sister,
Though he doesn't always share.
A quarter in the bucket,
A memory verse or two,
Although he may not know it,
He's beginning to follow you.

You can thank him for anything you want to,
For your Daddy and for me.
And pray, Lord Jesus, make me,
A little boy on my knees.

As we teach our Son to serve the Lord, in every way,
Lord the most important thing is this that we now pray,
Lord, we thank you everything you give us, but most importantly,
We pray Lord Jesus, make our Son a little boy on his knees.

Lord we thank you for everything you give us, but most importantly
We pray, Lord Jesus, make our Son,
A little boy on his knees.
We pray that someday he'll become,
A young man on his knees.

Light at the End of the Tunnel

all I ever have to be....Amy Grant

 

When the weight of all my dreams
Is resting heavy on my head,
And the thoughtful words of health and hope
Have all been nicely said.

But I'm still hurting,
Wondering if I'll ever be
The one I think I am.

I think I am.

Then you gently re-remind me
That you've made me from the first,
And the more I try to be the best
The more I get the worst.

And I realize the good in me,
Is only there because of who you are.

Who you are...

And all I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Any more or less would be a step
Out of your plan.

As you daily recreate me,
Help me always keep in mind
That I only have to do
What I can find.

And all I ever have to be
All I have to be
All I ever have to be
Is what you've made me.
Today was the first day in weeks that I have not cried. I did not fight this day...I simply let it happen. And remarkably, much to my surprise, I have survived. I didn't think about death. I thought about life. Jeff's life and how very much his life and being a part of it- changed my life and formed who I am today. And I thought about an old school chum, sandy Springer, who spoke with me at lunch. She made me feel special. She made me see that Jeff's choice didn't ruin my testimony or what people thought of me, but rather strengthened it through the diversity that I have suffered and am now overcoming. For the first time in seven months I was proud of who I am and what I have accomplished as a mother to these motherless children. And I am thankful- no priveledged to have been Jeff's mother. Because without me, Jeff never would have known what a mother's love was all about and he never would have known a lullaby. And he never would have known true happiness and the effects that our choices have on a family. He never would have known that he had choices. And he never would have known about Jesus Christ.  But because we chose to obey God and love him...he knew...and because of me...my little boy is in heaven and not hell and that is a big accomplishment...and for that, I am thankful...
Thanks Sandy, for today...you'll never how God used you to bring back from a place I keep going back too....you may have saved my life today....

Still So Sad...and it's been seven months..

Today....seven months after Jeffy shot himself...
I stood there at the football game tonight and realized that I no longer fit in. I am not "Kari Burd, mother of all the kids"...I am "kari Burd, mother to the kid who committed suicide"...and really, truthfully that is how I feel inside too. Everywhere I go people are smiling and laughing and having a good time. Their lives have went on- they have forgotten. But I- I can never ever forget that Jeff is dead and that he killed himself. I cannot have a good time anymore- at least not for long. Jeff is everywhere. He is on that football field, being under utilized and smiling and shaking hands in spite of not playing. he is on that track, beating his opponents without really even trying. he is in the stands, crying brcause he doesn't want to live and is contemplating suicide. he is everywhere there. And, he is eveywhere wherever I look. And I am sad. I miss him so much. So very much that much that my heart aches. It is breaking you know. Slowly, ever so slowly breaking. I am lost, empty, and virtually alone. In a world full of people, in a room full of people, in a house full of people- I am alone. And I hate it. I hate everything about jeff's death. I hate what it has taken from me; him, my health, my trust, my happiness. I hate that I wake up in the morning simply waiting to go back to bed again at night. I hate that i am afraid to go places because I cannot control this sadness. I hate that I cannot stand for my cjildren to go anywhere because they may get hurt or killed. I hate that I die inside everytime they are ill because I realized I have no control over this life and they could not get better. I hate that people tell me it'll get better when mostly they don't know that it will. Honestly, how many people lose a child to suicide. I hate that I cannot feel when my husband laughs, or talks, or plans...I hear his voice, but my heart is void of emotion. And I hate that I want to die...truly die if the rest of thsi life entails living in this frightening grief. And I hate that I am still mad that noone would listen to me and get him help and that the do gooders that did help him only thrust him closer to death because he didn't need us with their help. But I think what I hate the most is that I cannot ever, ever say good-bye. I cannot have closure. Sure I know it wasn't my fault and I know that Jeff was ill. But I cannot say to him, "I love you and I would've given my life if yours was spared".
My heart aches to see his face again. My hearts aches to hear his voice. My heart aches to have one of those people who blame me for his poor life to come up and apolojize to me and say, I'm sorry...I didn't know. He was sick. You were right". Somehow that would validate all of those "tough love" decisions that I had to make.
 But what I love is...that my children are here and give me reason to go on each day. That I have my friends who have always been there and never let me down. I love that my sister feel severy bit at a loss as I do and she helps me. I have my Katie Aronin who has more wisdom in her little finger than I have in my whole being. I love that I can go out to his grave and talk to him. I love that I have grandchildren. I love that I have an amazing church family. I love that I have a child who paints pictures with mascara, jumps in mud puddles with her church shoes, and dances naked in Walmart. I love that I have a husband who loves me and is my best friend and will wait until I can find my way again. But mostly I love that even when I cannot be who I am meant to be- I have a God who lets me throw a fit, walk away, and He still sits there waiting for me to run into His arms and bask in His comfort.
So now I know I will get through because like it or not I have to ...because I have still made a choice to live and live I will...




Clair had all but givin up when
when she and edwin fell in love
she his touched his face and shook her head
indisbelieve and sighed and said
in many dreams i've held you near
no at last your really here

Where you've been i've looked for you forever and a day
Where you've been i'm just not my-self when you're away

he asked her for her for life
and she became a sales mens wife
he was home each night by eight
but one stormy evening he was late
her frightened tears fell to the floor
until his key turned in the door

Where you've been i've looked for you forever and a day
Where you've been i'm just not my-self when you're away

they never spend a night apart for sixty years she heard him snore
now there in the hospitle on seperate beds on different floors
clair soon lost her memory, forgot the names of family
she never spoke a word again, then one day they whelled him in
he held her hand and stroked her hair, in a fragile voice she said

Where you've been i've looked for you forever and a day
Where you've been i'm just not my-self when you're away
no, i'm just not my-self when you're away