I keep trying to communicate my feelings of being left behind. Struggling with the loneliness of my loss. Words cant describe the emotions of this emptiness, it’s like I got off at the wrong stop or maybe missed the bus all together. Loss, I know in the beginning there were others here with me. We were together sharing pain, tears and strength but it seems as though I just turned around for a second and everyone was gone. Perhaps they have gone back to the path of living. Back to the everyday grind of putting this behind them and forging on. I can’t blame them really, I have done it a time or two myself, but not this time. This time I want the memories and pain in front of me, where I can see it, where it enters the room before me and tells the world J.T. Crow was here, he was beautiful and he will live on somehow, even if part of me is sacrificed in doing so. I don’t mind really it seams to fit. We sacrifice so much anyway in Motherhood. Our bodies, our freedom, our sleep. We sit through basketball, football, and soccer games where no one ever scores and cheer like it’s a championship. We celebrate when a word is spelled right or multiplication is conquered or a room is cleaned, we watch goofy cartoon movies and actually enjoy them and when we can’t do all of those mundane, day to day things, we miss them, we long for them. So I don’t mind being stuck here because occasionally it feels like he is with me, here where it is still my job to honor and represent him, no I don’t mind at all, lonely or not I am grateful.

Yesterday on cnn.com there was a report about John Travolta and the loss of his sixteen year old son. That story inspired other parents to tell their stories of the loss of a child. Reading through them is sad, however in this stage of grief for me I actually found it comforting that there are other people in this world experiencing what I am experiencing. It makes grief a less lonely place to know that others are struggling, remembering, and holding on to the exact same pain. Even though the losses happened in different ways the feeling of loss is the same. One comment on the page said something like “A child who looses its parents is called an orphan, a woman who looses her husband is called a widow but there is no word for a woman who looses her child because words can’t describe the pain… “ Words don’t do it justice, it’s true, but there is comfort in knowing that someone somewhere understands.

Here is the link: http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/01/09/child. ... index.html

This Holiday season my family and I had an opportunity to visit with the Presgrove family of Jackson Tennessee. It was perhaps a pilgrimage seeking understanding. This family was also affected by the Rhino when Grant Presgrove who was a passenger on one suffered severe leg injuries less than one month after J.T. was killed. Grant’s loving family invited us into there home and lives, complete strangers bonded by the same tragedy. The aftershock that this accident has had on the Presgrove family continues to mount yet they find a way to speak out and fight against the instability and miss design of the Yamaha Rhino, making the bond I feel with them even stronger. Each and every person I have met along this journey has given me strength and hope that change is possible with all of us fighting together for one purpose…To save lives.

Christmas From The Heart


by Judy Burnette



I heard your voice in the wind today
and I turned to see your face;
The warmth of the wind caressed me
as I stood silently in place.

I felt your touch in the sun today
as its warmth filled the sky;
I closed my eyes for your embrace
and my spirit soared high.

I saw your eyes in the window pane
as I watched the falling rain;
It seemed as each raindrop fell
it quietly said your name.

I held you close in my heart today
it made me feel complete;
You may have died...but you are not gone
you will always be a part of me.

As long as the sun shines...
the wind blows...
the rain falls...
You will live on inside of me forever
for that is all my heart knows.

The Lord came to me like a dream one day and asked, why do you sorrow
I answered, Lord my life is so full of pain, I can’t face one more tomorrow.

The Lord sat down beside me, and gently took my hand.
He said, Let me explain to you and then you’ll understand.

Each sorrow is a stepping stone you must surmount each day,
And every stepping stone you climb is a sorrow that’s passed away.

The road of life is a mountainside, with crevices in which to be caught,
But as you struggle on your way, I, the Rock, will lend support.

Every stepping stone you climb, makes spirit and heart grow strong.
Exercising character and faith this road seems painful and long.

The way is paved with stepping stones, to uplift your heart and soul,
Though difficult they aid your way, to a City paved with gold.

I know that you are tired, for I too have walked this way,
My sorrows did they multiply, but I cleared the stones away.

I left my rock to lift you up, I left behind my story.
To give you strength to make your climb, to that special place in glory.

And never fear, the Rock is here, You’ll never climb alone
Surmount life’s sorrows, continue on, For they are but stepping stones.

www.pravsworld.com