Only a Flower

Only a flower marks my grave,

Marks my grave, marks my grave.

I don’t need no wooden cross,

I don’t need granite for my name,

May my name be ever lost.

Only a flower marks my grave.

Marks my grave, marks my grave.

I’ve been trying to write a post for awhile now. Sitting, thinking, starting, erasing. I had it all planned out in the shower. It sounded good, too. Poignant, sad, but ultimately hopeful. The trouble is I just can’t get my fingers to write those words at the moment. I’m a writer. Writing is what I do; it’s what I love. It’s how I cope. But, I suppose, sometimes things are beyond words. Especially when they’re not over yet. For now, this:

Baby,

We miss you. We miss the nascent hopes and dreams we had for you and for our family. There will never be another you, and one hopes that in someway, somehow, we will get to know you. In another realm, in another life, who knows? But you brought joy to our hearts while you were here. Wherever you are know that you, our child, are forever in our hearts and our family.

Love,

Mama and Dad

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