It’s me your big brother, Kyle. I miss you a lot, Carrie. I wish you could come home and sleep in your bed because I bought a bear for you to have when you came home from the hospital. But you didn’t come home and you died instead. I am really sad and I miss you a lot. Mom and dad said you aren’t coming home and I cried. Can you see me crying? I hope you know that I love you and I always will.
Love,
Kyle
In Memory of Carrie Lynn Lutz
February 2, 2000-February 4, 2000
The Kaleidoscope Project/K.I.S.S. Group is for bereaved children and is a six-month program to help children embrace and heal from grief. For more information or to enroll contact Joanne or Dr. Finch at 623-979-1000.
The Empty PlaceBy Brian D. BrokawPacking up the bottles and the bassinette, Bundling our broken dreams inside, It’s hard to see your Momma clearly when my eyes are wet - The tears flow down to meet the ones she’s cried. For there’s an empty place inside my heart, and it’s full of empty things- The baby clothes you never wore, the songs we didn’t sing. The echo of your footsteps skipping lightly down the halls - Little toys I would have brought you, turned to little orphaned dolls. Time can take the broken heart and slowly make it new, It seems that’s what I hear most people say: But eternity itself would find me grieving without you, So I’m come Home to be with you someday. Cause there’s an empty place inside my heart, full of phantom memories. Of hide-and-seek and parties with imaginary tea. The school bus doesn’t stop here, no one kicks the soccer ball- A million undeveloped photographs, in dusty frames upon the wall. So I’ll hold on to your Mommy, and I’ll try to dry her tears, We’ll ride life’s stormy waves for yet a while; And though it takes a lifetime’s waiting out the weary years, I’m looking for the day I see your smile. Cause there’s an empty place inside my heart, and it’s full of things I’ve missed— Your college graduation, your loving goodbye kiss, Walking down the aisle with you, and giving you away- Someday listening along with you as I watch my grandchild play. And there’s an empty place inside my heart, that looks a lot like you- It’s won’t be full again until my days on earth are through. So until I get done fighting my way through this crazy world. Remember that you’ll always be your Daddy’s little girl. Written in memory of Kathleen Joy (8/29/00) and Joshua David (12/27/98), my treasures in heaven and to their mother Bobbie, my priceless gift from God. |
Two Hours is not EnoughBy Jill and Blake Firstmanin honor of Kyle Two hours is not enough Not enough time To see your smile And hear your sweet laugh To know the sound of your voice Or even your cry Do you favor your left or right hand? Two hours is not enough time For us to teach you To play catch or ride a bike To run in a field Or learn to swim To see you wonder why How can we tell you a story Or play hide and seek In two short hours It's not enough time It's not enough time To see you raise your hands for a hug Or carry you asleep from the car Our hearts are heavy As we hold you near Precious boy As we kiss you And try to let go Two hours is not enough Two hours is not enough  |
