We think leaves fall when we turn the calendar page to Autumn months.
Piles of red, gold and orange land beneath trees that grow increasingly barren until one day they are truly naked.
But leaves begin to fall as early as July-hardly noticed because they drift down lonely, one by one.
No one is looking for them then.
And green grass grows tall to hide them.
We think people live to the fullness of years. They begin in spring and pass through all the seasons before the cold winter claims them.
But some survive only one season, or two–never enjoying the fruitful harvest of the latter years the younger years of hard work are meant to produce.
Unlike early falling leaves, early deaths are perceived and acknowledged.
Shocking and unexpected, people gather round to discuss the tragedy, the sorrow and the lost future of one who dies young.
But then they go away-caught up in the seasons of their own lives.
And the green grass grows tall to hide the ones who left too soon.
No one is looking for them anymore.
Share this:
thelifeididntchoose 
“No one is looking for them anymore.” That sentence is so true and very sad. I had never heard it before in the last 4 years since my son passed.
It really hurts all of us 💔😭
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, as time passes by the grass grows taller and they are forgotten by some. My son was visiting with me just this evening and he spoke of meeting one of Joe’s friends and the friend told him that he was just talking about Joe. Makes my heart happy that he is remembered and talked about. He was valued by more than just our Danilo for the short time he was on earth. The void that is left will never close completely because they were a part of us. A completion of our family. I always appreciate your posts and they always resonate with my heart. You have a gift of words that help many even in your sorrow. Thank you Melanie.
LikeLiked by 1 person
many have forgotten my Lydia including some family who never say her name. the pain is still as strong as it was the day she took her life. people think I am better, but I am just getting better at hiding the pain. and it rakes so much out of you
LikeLiked by 1 person
I am so very sorry, Sandy. It’s incredibly painful to feel like people who should help you carry Lydia’s light and life have forgotten her.
I think many of us learn to get better at hiding the pain as time goes by. It seems people simply can’t understand nor tolerate the truth-we yearn for our missing child as long as our own hearts beat.
Praying for you this morning, mama. ❤
LikeLike
This makes me so incredibly sad.
LikeLike
Me too! We want our loved ones never be forgotten. They lived and they mattered!!
LikeLike
I don’t really like this, but I know it’s true, especially for stillborn and children who die shortly after birth. People have few, if any memories with the child. Sometimes there are no pictures to even mark the short time they graced this world with their presence. And it hurts. Oh how it hurts when you come face to face with the realization that even family members no longer recall the presence of the one for whom a day has not passed that you failed to take note of the gaping hole of their absence!
But you remember, Melanie. Your husband and children all remember and they miss him with you. And Dominic is not forgotten in the larger world either. Friends and other family members hold memories and pictures and while they may not miss him daily, there are days they miss him greatly, and days when they recall words of encouragement he offered, and moments of laughter and silliness, pranks, and even harsh words and arguments. Dominic lived large all the days of his life and I’m pretty sure he continues to live large in the presence of His savior who is loving every minutes He gets to spend with him and is anticipating the day He will have the pleasure of reunite two of you. The day is coming, Melanie. Hold fast, stand firm, and picture your Savior’s face as He watches Dominic the way you did with a smile and a heart filled with pure joy at the work of His own hands. Hold fast dear friend!
With shared tears for your hurting heart,
Janet
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Janet. I do know others remember him. And I know I am blessed to have had him for 23 years and stockpiled memories. Just every now and then it feels awfully lonely. I’m holding on for reunion!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Every once in awhile? I think it’s always lonely and I think your post said some things those outside the loss community need to hear. Thanks for being the voice that speaks for many – for the fragile and intimidated – for the broken and defeated – for the lost and lonely – for those whose hearts demand recognition but are bereft of the words to ask for, beg for, and even demand what they need. You are a warrior for all those unheard people. You encourage and support and teach the teachable. And my earlier comments were in no way a condemnation for any perceived failure to appreciate the blessings you have. I had intended to encourage you. Forgive me if I failed to communicate that message.
I am thankful Bethany and Katie’s names will still be spoken on occasion because people interacted with them for years, but equally sad that Cole is often forgotten which serves to diminish his inherent value, at least in the eyes of everyone other than David and I. I have made an uncomfortable peace with that truth. I’m resigned to it.
Cole’s name is not spoken. Those cute family trees or personalized ornaments, etc., don’t include his name. He is like the leaves that fall in July and August, obscured by the grass, carried away by the wind, in the eyes of the world, but not by me, not by David, and not by the Holy Trinity. To us, he has value inexpressible and honestly, his life and death have impacted this world in untold ways because he changed us. He changed the way we think and parent, and treat others. His life impacts the world every single day in small ways. His life mattered even if he never drew a breath in this earthly realm and even if no one else is aware of his value.
I’m also resigned to the fact that Bethany and Katie’s names will be spoken less and less often. That people will forget. Friends and family will overlook them. I think having walked that road in the aftermath of Cole’s death has allowed me to deal with it with less angst that I did as it became apparent that Cole would be forgotten. But still, having the child that was so intrinsically and profoundly important in your life forgotten or overlooked or simply diminished by
the world we come in contact with is one of a bereaved parent’s worst nightmares. How can someone we value so highly be unimportant in the grand scheme of things? It’s just offensive and beyond our ability to comprehend let alone swallow.
Please forgive me for hurting you! I know you know that was never my intention.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh Janet! You did not hurt my feelings. I don’t know why, in spite of the many times you and I have discussed the fact that it’s impossible to tie child loss up with a spiritual bow, my default response is to minimize my feelings if I think they make someone else uncomfortable. I appreciate you! I truly believe that you help me think more deeply, more clearly and more honestly about my experience, my faith and my feelings. You’re right-it isn’t every once in awhile…it’s every single day. My son and I were talking about this last night-we both agreed we’ve simply gotten better at shoving it down. My post was an expose of my heart-but I rarely let it out anymore. I probably should.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That was beautifully said Janet! It made me cry happy tears. I picture my son, Kyle, fishing with his dad, grandpa, and Jesus.
LikeLiked by 2 people