You Never Let Go by Matt Redman

Third Day I'll Be Your Miracle

Pocahontas - Between Two Worlds

The Twilight Hours

It’s 3 am and you’re on my mind,
I just can’t sleep tonight,
I try but toss and turn and cry,
It’s not fair, or just or right!
I close my eyes whisper your name,
Into the dark still air,
My sweetest child my Angel,
This pain I cannot compare.
Missing you is such a huge part,
Of my life now of my day,
Every waking moment you’re there,
On my mind now to stay.
When I sleep you’re in my dreams,
Calling out so distant so small,
I feel you slipping away from me,
I just can’t get to you at all.
Then I wake up bathed in terror,
It’s like losing you all over again,
My heart racing the tears falling,
It hurts so very much then.
But sometimes when I dream of you,
I’m holding you in my embrace,
Breathing in every inch of you,
Gazing into your darling face.
This stays with me when I waken,
I carry it in my heart,
Watching you grow, seeing you change,
Even though we are apart.
Your name the trees whisper to me,
The wind it sings your tune,
I know you’re there, you’re with me,
As we gaze at the waning moon.
Hold my hand My Angel,
As we gaze into the nights wild,
These twilight hours are mine and yours,
My Angel, my darling my child.

Christine Bevington 2011

Forever

This was given to me from a dear friend. The two monkeys remind me of George and Gavin (my nephew who is in heaven with George for those who don't know) and the two birds make me think of my grandparents watching over them for us until we can be in heaven again as they are all carried by God's promise of eternal life.

Flowers my mom left at his grave site at our church...daisies and yellow roses were what were at his service last year.

A cake my sister bought to celebrate George's heavenly birthday.

This was George's favorite CD, he was put to sleep every night with it playing. I can't listen to this CD anymore but it means the world to me since it was the last thing I ever played for him.

A gift given to us by a close friend...the only way we will all have our pictures together...it really meant a lot to me.

I made this candle holder so when I miss him I can light a candle in remembrance of the light he brought to my life.

The single blue daisy I bought for my little boy and placed where I buried him a year ago.

The celebration cake we bought for George(Hugh picked it out!)...we celebrate the fact he is in God's arms even though we ache for ourselves.

I don't know if it is society or my own want to an end for carrying this sort of pain but I really had hoped that hitting that one year mark would have made it easier. Honestly, I found that getting to that mark seems more lonely and sad than I thought it ever would be. It is kind of like the ok for the rest of the world to keep going while I am forever stuck here. For others, it is sort of like their obligation to really care is no longer required. There is no one person or particular thing that happened to cause this sad feeling but it just happened.

I sat here thinking of how a year ago I was sitting at my mom's house planning George's funeral. We were driving back and forth to the funeral home and stores in between snow storms like the ones we are currently having. The intensity of the pain that I felt then was very different then what I feel now. Now it is more deeply rooted and I have found a way to kind of tuck it away and find a way to live with it rather than it consuming me and my every moment. The feeling is really no easier, I have just learned to live with it because I have no choice in the matter but to do so.

Every part of me thinks daily how I should have a one year old little boy running around here. Sadly he is not here and the thought of what he would be or should be doing just breaks my heart all over again. I've watched as other parents feel very much the same way and I wonder how in the world am I suppose to live my "forever" like this. There was a mom who asked for preayers for her child who had been gone 19 years...that seems like such an eternity. Then it made me wonder if I will someday be old and gray still hurting this way and missing my son. I know the answer is yes but how in the world am I suppose to do this every single day. The true realm of it all just seems so overwhelming.

Will years from now, I be the only person who cares? How many will truly tell me I should be over it at some point in time? Support this past year along has been scarce to come by other than a few particular people who have gone out of their way to let us know how much they really do care. I cannot imagine how it is suppose to be in the years to come as others move on with their lives and all I still have left of my son are some ashes and faded memories. I can honestly say that I never understood it myself until now. I watched as others lost their children and in some way I didn't understand how they could still be so distraught, like their pain had a time limit. Never did I think...if it was me would I really be "over it" at any point in my life? Now I can honestly say no!

There was a woman at our old church who had given my mother in law a poem and letter after she found out about George. It had been years, 40+ years for her since she said goodbye to her child and yet she still missed her baby. I was so profoundly touched by that and the reality of it has just all of a sudden hit as to how at some point I may be the only person left to remember him and care or even know how great he really was. The thought of it just saddens me and makes me wonder what my "forever" will really be like.