a poem in my pocket

We lament with this family suffering awe-ful grief. Beloved infants lost at 26 weeks gestation; twin grandbabies happily anticipated. Expectant mother, more than halfway through pregnancy, heard heartbeats and viewed ultrasounds but no more… no more expectations, no more movement, no more fast swooshing of babies’ hearts beating their distinct rhythms. Only mother’s lonely heart beats now, heavy with slow sorrow.

The relentless spring rains mirror this drowning grief. Tears falling in torrents, flooded emotions. Erosion of the soul. What kind of broken world is this, where little lives can be cut short by the cord that was their lifeline? We may ask “why?” yet not receive an acceptable answer to the anguished questions. We have only our faith in God himself to cling to. Lord, have mercy on your children. As we remember precious twins taken; remember us too, for we are dust.

grief’s painful journey

rosebuds fade…family mourns

inadequate words