I thought of you and closed my eyes and prayed to God today. I asked what makes a mother and I know I heard him say, "A mother has a baby. This we know is true." But can you be a mother when your baby's not with you?

"Yes, you can," He replied, with confidence in His voice. "I give many women babies...when they leave is not their choice. Some I send for a lifetime and others for a day. And some I send to feel your womb, but there's no need to stay."

I just don't understand this, God. I want my baby here. He took a breath, cleared His throat, and then I saw a tear. "I wish that I could show you what your child is doing today. If you could see your child smile with other children and say, "We go to earth and learn our lessons of love and life and fear. My mommy loved me oh so much that I got to come straight here. I feel so lucky to have a mom who had so much love for me. I learned my lesson very quickly and my mommy set me free. I miss my mommy oh so much, but I visit her each day...when she goes to sleep, on her pillow is where I lay. I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek and whisper in her ear, "Mommy, don't be sad today. I'm your baby and I am here."

"So you see my dear sweet one, your child is okay. Your daughter is here in My home and this is where she'll stay. She'll wait for you right next to me until your lesson is through, and on the day that you come home, she'll be at the gates for you. So now you see what makes a mother...it's the feeling in your heart. It's the love you had so much of right from the very start."

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MY MOM IS A SURVIVOR - Author Unknown

My mom is a survivor, or so I've heard it said, but I hear her cry at night when others are in bed. I watch her lay awake and I go to hold her hand. She doesn't even know I'm there to help her understand.

Like the sands on the beach that never wash away, I watch over my surviving mom, who thinks of me each day. She wears a smile for others...a smile of disguise, but through Heaven's door I see tears flowing from her eyes.

My mom tries to cope with death to keep my memory alive, but anyone who knows her knows it's her way to survive. As I watch over my surviving mom through Heaven's open door, I try to tell her that angels protect me forevermore.

I know that doesn't help her or ease the burden that she bears, so if you get a chance, go visit her and show her that you care. For no matter what she says...no matter what she feels...my surviving mom has a broken heart that time won't ever heal.

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EVERY PLACE - Author Unknown

Mother, please don't mourn for me; I'm still here, though you don't see. I'm right by your side each night and day, and within your heart, I long to stay.

My body is gone, but I'm always near; I'm everything, you feel, see or hear. My spirit is free, but I'll never depart, as long as you keep me alive in your heart.

I'll never wander out of your sight; I'm the brightest star on a summer night. I'll never be beyond your reach; I'm the warm, moist sand when you're at the beach.

I'm the colorful leaves when fall comes around and the pure white snow that blankets the ground. I'm the beautiful flowers of which you're so fond, and the clear, cool water in a quiet pond.

I'm the first bright blossom you'll see in the spring and the first warm raindrop that April will bring. I'm the first ray of light when the sun starts to shine, and you'll see that the face in the moon is now mine.

When you start thinking there's no one to love you; you can talk to me through the Lord above you. I'll whisper my answer through the leaves on the trees, and you'll feel my presence in the soft summer breeze.

I'm the hot, salty tears that flow when you weep and the beautiful dreams that come when you sleep. I'm the smile you see on a baby's face. Just look for me, Mom...I'm every place.

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ASK MY MOM HOW SHE IS - Author Unknown

My mom, she tells a lot of lies. She never did before. But from now until the time she dies, she'll tell a whole lot more.

Ask my mom how she is and because she can't explain, she will tell a little lie. She can't describe the pain.

Ask my mom how she is, she'll say, "I'm alright." If that's the truth, then tell me, Mom, why do you cry each night?

Ask my mom how she is and you'll hear, "I'm fine, I'm well, I'm coping." For God's sake, Mom, just tell the truth; just say your heart is broken.

She'll love me all her life; I loved her all of mine. But if you ask her how she is, she'll lie and say she's fine.

I am here in Heaven. I cannot hug from here. If she lies to you, don't listen; hug her and hold her near.

On the day we meet again, I will be quite bold. I'll say, "You're lucky to get here, Mom, with all the lies you told!"

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MY SHOES - Author Unknown

I am wearing a pair of shoes. Ugly shoes. Uncomfortable shoes. I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them. Each day I wish I had another pair. Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I don't think I can take another step. Yet I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes. Looks of sympathy. I can tell in their eyes that they are glad these are my shoes and not their own. They never talk about my shoes. To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable. To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them. But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.

I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes. There are many pairs in this world. Some women are like me and ache daily as they try to walk in them. Some have learned how to walk in these shoes so that they don't hurt quite so much. Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes. Yet, because of these shoes, I am a stronger woman. These shoes have given me the strength to face anything. They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

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JUST ONE MORE DAY by Brenda Taylor, TCF

If I had just one more day to spend, my child, with you,
anything you want I promise we would do.

If I had just one more day to see your precious face,
we'd wake up bright and early...not one moment would be waste.

If I had just one more day, in your sweet voice let me hear,
"I'll love you, Mom, forever and I'm waiting for you here."

If I had just one more day, I'd beg for yet another,
because it's the only way to mend my heart...the heart of a grieving mother.

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Dearest Mommy,

When you wonder the meaning of life and love, know that I am with you. Close your eyes and feel me kissing you in the gentle breeze across your cheek.

When you begin to doubt that you shall never see me again, quiet your mind and hear me. I am the whisper of the heavens speaking of your love.

When you lose your identity...when you question who you are...where you are going...open your heart and see me. I am the twinkle in the stars smiling down upon you, lighting the path for your journey.

When you awaken each morning, not remembering your dreams, but feeling content and serene, know that I was with you, filling your nights with thoughts of me.

When you linger in the remnant pain, wholeness seeming so unfamiliar, think of me and know that I am with you, touching you through the shared tears of a gentle friend easing the pain.

As the sunrise illuminates the desert sky in that breathtaking glory, awaken your spirit. Think of our time together, all too brief, but ever brilliant, when you were certain of your destiny. Know that God created that moment in time, just for us.

Dearest Mommy, I am with you always.

by Joanne Cacciatore

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