When I lost my baby a few months ago, I had a miscarriage in the first trimester, I was upset. I grieved for the baby I wouldn't get to hold. While talking about it with my husband, he gave me a great idea for how to process my grief. I was afraid of forgetting my baby. I hadn't felt any movement and barely knew the baby was there before I lost it. I was worried that I would forget. That our family would forget the precious soul that should have joined us. I wanted to make a memorial for my baby. Nothing fancy or showy for the world, just a reminder for our family. I love pyrography, wood burning, so my husband suggested that I make a wooden memorial such as a family tree. I loved that idea! I spent the next hour thinking about how to do it and what I would need. I made several sketches of my tree. I was on fire with the plan for remembering my baby. It was a helpful project for me. I'm proud to say that I finished my family tree this weekend. It was wonderful spending the time with my baby, making the leaves, decorating the trunk, and deciding how to hang all the pieces. This was a beautiful project that I'm proud of. I really hope it becomes a family heirloom. It includes our children (my husband and I), our parents, and our grandparents. The persons who are deceased at the time of creating the tree have downward turned leaves.
I found my folder of old poems. I'll share them here to save them. Arlington May 28, 2018 When I went to Arlington, I slowly walked alone. I wanted to respect them, the names I didn’t know. Thousands and thousands, the white headstones were so straight. They stand in perfect rank and file; forever they will wait. I marveled at their beauty; I tried to read their names. There are too many for me to read; too many died for me. Though I do not know them, they never dreamed of me, They gave their lives fighting, for the land of the free. I went to see the Tomb, that honors the Unknown. How many families waited, for those who can’t come home? When I went to Arlington, I reflected on the past. Why are there names not older than my own? This graveyard is supposed to be just for wars of old. I know that we’re still fighting, but these names brought it home. Arlington is not just filled with past heroes. I saw a black casket, pulled by four black horses. One more s...
Comments
Post a Comment