My Mommy is a Survivor

My Mommy is a survivor, Or so I've heard it said. But I can hear her crying, When all others are in bed. I watch her lay awake at night, And I go and hold her hand. She doesn't know I'm with her, To help her understand.  But like the sands upon the beach, They never wash away . . . I watch over my surviving Mommy, Who thinks of me each day. She wears a smile for others . . A smile of disguise. But through Heaven's open door, I see tears flowing from her eyes. My Mommy tries to cope with my death, To keep my memory alive. But anyone who knows her, Knows its her way to survive. as I watch over my surviving Mom, Through Heaven's open door . . . I try to tell her, angels protect me forever more. I know that doesn't help her . . Or ease the burden she bares. So if you get a chance, talk to her . . And show her that you care. For no matter what she says . . No matter what she feels. My surviving Mommy has a broken heart, That time won't ever heal.

Kay Des'Ormeaux

The say that the Lord weeps with you in your pain as well as the angels, not because they are saddened by what pain and hurt you are going through, but are sad because they know the amazing things that await one who endures these trials and they know the blessings that will come. The hardest thing for them to do is to sit back and wait and watch because they want you to be happy, to be full  of tears of joy, even though it's not time to reveal them to you yet! 

I look up in the sky each evening and I picture all of those guys up there, sitting on their clouds, looking down on me. thinking about how amazing the day will be when that day comes and we are all rejoicing! :)