Grief
God, it's so hard to trust
When I've been hurt so bad,
My wound is raw and deep,
I feel crushed and sad.
I have a hollow in my chest
And nothing fits its shape
Except my children--and they're gone.
When I cry they stand agape.
Those who haven't been there
Expect the impossible from me.
They don't know I'm still hurting
From wounds they cannot see.
They want to keep me busy
To occupy my mind.
Oh, how I want to hold them,
But I've been left behind.
Grieving has no schedule,
No pattern or set pace.
Everyone's grief is different
But it's written on each face.
The smile covers the ache
That throbs within the chest.
We see through a veil of sadness,
From grief there is no rest.
Tears on my pillow, crying in dreams,
Become our familiar friend.
We're on a journey of healing,
May we hear "Well done" in the end.
by Elizabeth Dent, adapted
In Loving Memory
Ronald William Field, 7/15/67 ~ 4/15/69
James Brian Huston, 12/22/72 ~ 3/22/73
Rachel Michelle Smith, 5/21/69 ~ 10/25/03
Beloved children of Joyce Smith
