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April 2001
Baby LoveReflecting on the loss of a child to abortionBy Linda Gibbons Dear one, still missing you! Those first tears of contrition late in the night so long ago. The deep yearning then and now that can't be assuaged. How my mind grapples with the pain, imagines knowing then what I know now, reconstructs the scenario, and I see myself jumping down off the hospital gurney and fleeing out the door. Grieving too the finality of that life-betraying signature, envisioning that form I blushed to put my name to. It consigned you, my daughter, my son, to a savage death. Years later I ponder that silent scream and determine to take a stand. Still I long to look into the life that should have been yours. Your dad works in a far-off land. Does he sometimes ponder clasping chubby little hands while you sit upon his shoulders? What ragtag toy would you tote to bed? What cute expression would serve to remind us of you? What special anecdotes would you have added to the family repertoire? Untold stories ripped from the pages of time. Now you'd be grown and raising your own.
The grandkids come and are buds blossoming on the family tree. Which tender branch would have been yours?
Yet your place in the family is not removed. Its marked between siblings. Their years tell your age.
I've laid flowers beneath the hospital O.R. Did anyone notice these tiny blossoms resting against the stone and wonder why they were there?
Sometimes I muse among the children's graves. Who was the last to handle your remains? Did it cause him to sigh the way I do now?
No body, no grave - a bitter thought, robbed by the deceiver, a deadly cruel plot.
Later a sweet hope comes to the fore. Its Easter - my baby will be resurrected to die no more.
Blessed Easter, Salah Mara, Mom loves you!
Opportunity for healingFor more information, please call Genevieve Carson, at (905) 451-5953. |
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