Pink, fuchsia and silver ribbons adorn our neighborhood…
|...our entrance ways|
|...our stop signs|
|...our fence posts|
|...our street signs|
|...our trees in abundance|
I’ve not been able to write since Tuesday as a result of lingering thoughts in my head and in my heart of sweet Meg. No matter was more noteworthy than the death of an eight year old child; however words eluded me. The passing away of any child brings scores of questions but a petite number of answers. We want to know the ‘why’s’, the ‘how’s’ and the purpose of such a devastating occurrence; conversely it remains one of life’s countless mysteries.
I strolled through the neighborhood taking photographs to capture the images of pale crimson and gray sparkly ribbons accompanied by goose bumps on my arms and tears on my cheeks as I reminisced. Furthermore, I silently acknowledged copious parents including myself who would be whispering extra words that were more gentle and kind and embracing their children more tightly.
I recognize parents like me would be murmuring prayers of thanks to God that it wasn’t their child while in the same breath appealing for comfort for the family of Meg. I pray for solace and consolation of Meg’s family that they be armed with strength to grapple with the monumental devastation at the loss of a child; their child. May they be enveloped in a blanket of memories to soothe their heartache and ease their pain.
Rest in peace Dear Sweet Meg and save a swing for me~
Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy. ~Author Unknown