for our children
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music playing: FANTASY


I was waiting at the mailbox
As I've done for many years
Just in case you sent a postcard
From the place that has no tears.

Just as the postman pulled away
I reached in to get the mail.
I pulled out a lovely postcard
With a picture of an angel.

I slowly flipped it over
To see what was on the back.
It was postmarked from Heaven.
That's when I began to gasp.

I read the words written there...
"Hey Mom, I'm doing great."
"Wish you were here in Heaven."
"I'll be waiting at the gate."

I found my way back to the house
With this gift of mine to keep.
I held the postcard to my chest
Then I dozed of to sleep.

I dreamed of clouds and angel wings.
I dreamed of days gone by,
And how I long to hold you.
That's when I began to cry.

The tears awoke me from my sleep.
I felt the card within my clutch.
I held it to my chest once more
This proof of Heaven's touch.

I looked to read it once again,
To absorb all that it said.
My tears had faded all the ink.
The words no longer could be read.

I know this card was heaven sent
Although it never can be proved.
I guess that I'm the only one
Who will ever know the truth.

So I'll be waiting at the mailbox
As I've done for many years.
While you are waiting at the gate
In the place of no more tears.

© 2007 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001


Snapshots of a lifetime
Captured here within my heart.
Prints of all my memories
Zoomed in on at the start.

A frame of special moments
Posed forever over time.
Developed over many years
In the darkroom of my mind.

Pictures of what used to be
From the camera of my soul.
Film waiting to be taken
A future trapped within the roll.

Photographs of heartache.
Images of hidden pain.
Focused on reality.
Exposing what remains.

Transparencies of happiness
Cropped-out by fate's design.
A flash of hope awaits within...
These snapshots of a lifetime.

© 2006 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001

Mrs. Gump:
Vacation's when you go somewhere...
and you don't ever come back.

~ Quote from Forrest Gump

I wanna be inside your heaven
Take me to the place you cry from
Where the storm blows your way
I wanna be earth that holds you
Every bit of air you're breathin' in
A soothin' wind
I wanna be inside your heaven

~ Carrie Underwood

And none will hear the postman's knock
Without a quickening of the heart.
For who can bear to feel himself forgotten?

~W.H. Auden

Closer to heaven above and
Closer to you closer to you

~The Dixi Chicks

Here I am, signed, sealed delivered
I'm yours

~ Stevie Wonder

I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter
And make believe it came from you

I'm gonna write words oh so sweet
They're gonna knock me off my feet
A lotta kisses on the bottom
I'll be glad I got 'em

I'm gonna smile and say
I hope you're feeling better
I'll close with love the way you do
I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter
And I'm gonna make believe it came from you

~ Billy Williams

Please mister postman look and see
If there's a letter, a letter for me
I been standing here waiting mister postman
So patiently

So many days you passed me by
See the tear standing in my eye
You didn't stop to make me feel better
By leaving me a card or a letter

~ The Beatles

Oh, thinking about all our younger years
There was only you and me
We were young and wild and free

Oh, once in your life you find someone
Who will turn your world around
Bring you up when you're feeling down

Baby you're all that I want
When you're lying here in my arms
I'm finding it hard to believe
We're in heaven

And love is all that I need
And I found it there in your heart
It isn't too hard to see
We're in heaven

~ Bryan Adams

I dig my toes into the sand
The ocean looks like a thousand diamonds
Strewn across a blue blanket
I lean against the wind
Pretend that I am weightless
And in this moment I am happy...happy
I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here
I wish you were here

~ Incubus

Funny how the years,
They just pass us by
Seems like yesterday,
You were in my life

~ Enrique Iglesias

I saw heaven in your eyes...
In your eyes...
Wish you were here...

~ Ritchie Blackmore

Hope you're well at home,
Next week I'll try to phone,
Not very long to go,
I'll tell you when I'm coming home as soon as I know

~ The Who

Wish you were here, wish you could see this place
Wish you were near, I wish I could touch your face
The weather's nice, it's paradise
It's summertime all year and there's some folks we know
They say, "Hello, I miss you so, wish you were here"

~ Mark Wills

How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

~ Pink Floyd

You fill up my senses
Like a night in a forest
Like a mountain in springtime
Like a walk in the rain
Like a storm in the desert
Like a sleepy blue ocean
You fill up my senses, Come fill me again

Come let me love you
Let me give my life to you
Let me drown in your laughter
Let me die in your arms
Let me lay down beside you
Let me always be with you
Come let me love you, Come love me again

~ John Denver

"Heaven is a city without a cemetery"

~ Anonymous

"Everything you can imagine is real."

~ Pablo Picasso

Perhaps passing through the gates of death
is like passing quietly through the gate in a pasture fence.
On the other side, you keep walking, without the need to look back.
No shock, no drama, just the lifting of a plank
or two in a simple wooden gate in a clearing.
Neither pain, nor floods of light, nor great voices,
but just the silent crossing of a meadow.

~Mark Helprin, "A Soldier of the Great War"

"And if I go,
while you are still here,
know that I live on,
vibrating to a different measure,
behind a thin veil
you cannot see through.
You will not see me
so you must have faith.
I can't wait for the time
when we can soar together again,
both aware of each other.
Until then,
live your life to the fullest
and when you need me,
just whisper my name in your heart.....
I will be there."

~ Emily Dickenson


The waves are washing over me.
I'm drowning in this grief.
I look for shores to swim to
Or an island of relief.

I tread the murky water
Trying hard to stay afloat.
I'm pulled under by the current
Sinking to where there is no hope.

Submerged in total darkness,
Lying on the ocean's floor.
I contemplate my voyage
To that peaceful heavenly shore.

My chest is tightened by the surge.
In this seabed I can't breathe.
So I look toward the surface
To the place of my reprieve.

A light appears before me
With a hand for me to clasp.
Then I'm thrust above the surface
As I begin to cough and gasp.

I see the shore before me
So I swim towards the sand
But I gaze back at the water
Knowing that it understands.

Then I look to the horizon
At that other peaceful shore.
Someone is waiting for me
But motions not to drift that far.

The hand that rescued reaches high
And waves to me a fond goodbye.
Someday I'll see my angel
When I reach that ebbing tide.

So I turn towards that earthly shore
Drenched in the hope that I betrayed.
Stroke by stroke I reach the reef
And in the shallow sea I wade.

At last I find myself aground.
I lay there resting on the beach
As the waves engulf my being
Again I'm flooded by this grief.

So I build sandcastles to the sky
And I soak up lots of sun.
I splash around in memories
Of the days when life was fun.

The waters still entice me
And I know the current's strong.
I sometimes go out for a swim.....
I just don't stay out too long.

© 2007 - Christine Ross
In memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001


My husband, myself, and our two children lived in Louisiana when our children were very young. My parents had a camp on a beautiful lake with an old weathered wooden pier that stretched out across the water. We would often go there and spend family time together fishing, and boating, and swimming. Luke (our son) was three and Emily (our daughter) was five. We had bought each of them a cute little tackle box and fishing pole. Emily's was a red Mickey Mouse rod and box. Luke's was a blue Donald Duck rod and box. We always kept them in the little tin shed next to the huge Cypress tree that clung to the edge of the lake.

When we moved to Arizona we didn't even consider bringing the little rods and tackle boxes with us since our children were much older and had outgrown them. A few years after we moved my dad died and my mom sold the camp on the lake. My brother went out to the camp and cleaned out the shed, throwing some things away and keeping some. But I never even considered that I would one day want that little blue rod and tackle box as a keepsake from my son's childhood. I thought my little boy would live for a very long time.

Five years after my brother cleaned out that little shed, Luke died at the age of 21. A few years into my grief, I began thinking about Luke's little blue Donald Duck rod and tackle box and wished that I had kept it. I thought to myself ...."I wonder if anyone still has them?" It was probably an impossible reality, but I placed that call to Louisiana anyway. My brother said: "Oh, I don't think so. You see, I took most everything from the shed and piled it up out near the road in front of my house, and I put a 'FOR SALE' sign up, and when people would come by they would choose what they wanted from the pile and then come to the house and pay me for it. Most of the things that were left from the pile I threw away..... But, I will check anyway, just in case."

Well, he did check in his garage and the little rods and tackle boxes from Emily and Luke's childhood so long ago, as expected, were not there. I was disappointed, but not surprised at all. It was just wishful thinking on my part that they could still be around. My brother decided, just as a rare possibility, to ask his son-in-law if maybe he had taken them for his children to use. His son-in-law said: "Yes, I have a Donald Duck fishing pole and tackle box that I got from your garage." My brother just couldn't believe it! He immediately went over to his son-in-law's house and rescued the little blue fishing pole and tackle box. He called me and said: "I am so amazed that Luke's rod and tackle box are still around. I thought for sure someone had bought them, or they had gotten thrown away. No one has Emily's little Mickey Mouse rod and tackle box, but we do have Luke's." I said: "Well, I guess Luke really wanted me to have them." He said: "I guess so." He then mailed them to me all the way from Louisiana to Arizona.

A week later there was a package at the post office for me... a long skinny box. I ran to the car, clutching it in my hands, and telling my husband "The package is here with Luke's fishing pole and tackle box!" I was so excited that I could hardly get the cardboard box opened fast enough. I finally did and there under all of those little white packing peanuts was..... Luke's little blue Donald Duck fishing pole and tackle box. I gently held the little rod and looked at the date the rod was made... 1982. At that time in 2003 when I held this treasure once more, 21 years had passed, exactly the same age as Luke was when he died. I then realized what a miracle it was that this little rod and box had survived 21 years of floods and storms, and also years of being used by Luke, being held over the water at the end of that old weathered wooden pier by many little hands, being placed here and there in the little tin shed, being moved from the shed in the back of a pick-up truck, being moved from the truck to my brother's garage, being piled up in his front yard to be sold, and then being delivered in a long skinny cardboard box to my hands totally intact and looking almost as good as it did 21 years ago. Not only had this miracle made it all the way from Louisiana to Arizona.... it had made it all the way from Heaven.

As I held the little blue rod I clicked the reel and wound in the twine a few times as the memories flowed and I imagined my little boy sitting next to me on that old weathered wooden pier at the lake. Then, I placed the little rod down on the seat and reached for the little blue Donald Duck tackle box. I held that unbelievable little tackle box in my hands, just gazing at it in amazement. My brother had told me there were still a few things in the box. I touched the outside of the box, and looked at the little picture of Donald Duck that my little boy of three years old loved so much. Carefully, I slowly opened the little blue tackle box and there from so very many years ago in that little box, were the very hooks, and sinkers, and corks that my sweet little boy had once touched and fished with. BUT.... there was SOMETHING ELSE in that box..... something that I had not expected or even thought about. There in that little blue Donald Duck tackle box from days gone by was something that had been sealed within that box for all these years and had just now been released..... a summer place within my heart, and my soul, and my mind! My heart ached and my eyes filled with tears because of the pain that came from those unexpected bittersweet memories of that summer place where I spent so many wonderful times with my little boy, but now, years later, he was somehow out of my grasp. My emotions overflowed with the memories buried deep within that summer place of my mind. I choked, and I gasped, but most of all I REMEMBERED. I remembered those fleeting days of Luke's childhood that were now accompanied by the lost hope of the years ahead of me.

Oh how I longed to go back in time to that summer place. Back to a time when life was so good, a time when I could hear the giggles of my little boy, a time when I could see his little eyes widen as he reeled in that first prize fish, a time of happiness, a time of sunshine and laughter, a time that passed gently in a summer place..... if only for just one sweet precious moment.

Many years have passed since that summer of 1982, and also since the day that I opened that long lost little blue tackle box of Luke's that held those eternal summer memories. I believe that everyone has a special box like that, one that contains warm memories of those loved and missed, eternal memories that are just as warm as the days of summer. That special box may be a tackle box, a shoebox, a jewelry box, a toy box, a photo box, or even just a plain old cardboard box. But whatever the box may be, when it is opened, something in that box will release those trapped memories from that warm summer place within the mind, heart, and soul. I know now that all of my memories can be a reality again by doing the things that he used to do, or by doing the things that he never had the opportunity to do. Whether it be spring, summer, winter, or fall, he can live again through me. Then, magically and gently something within me will be found again.... A SUMMER PLACE.

© 2011 Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001


I'll learn to play piano
And I’ll play the guitar too.
I'll compose a song and music,
Because that's what he loved to do.

I'll drink a glass of chocolate milk
And eat a plate of spicy food.
I'll have a toast with all my friends
To lighten up the mood.

I'll watch a late night movie
And play some video games.
I'll share my bed with my dog
But I never will complain.

I'll take lessons in karate
And I'll whistle while I work.
I'll say a lot of funny things,
Then I'll laugh until it hurts.

I'll ride a roller coaster
And bounce on a trampoline.
I'll be a real daredevil
Doing almost anything.

I'll drive up to the canyon
And watch the sun set from afar.
I'll build a fire to keep me warm
Camping underneath the stars.

I'll climb up to the mountaintop
And ride my bike down from the peak.
I'll crawl down deep inside a cave,
Even drive right through a creek.

I'll hike up to the tallest cliff
And jump off into a lake.
I'll hear my echo through the night
While the wind takes it away.

I'll go skiing in the winter
And see the leaves turn in the fall.
I'll go swimming in the summer.
In spring rain I'll take walk.

I'll give a friend a heartfelt hug
And then share my deepest thoughts.
I'll try to help someone in need
So they won't feel so lost.

I'll pray there at the chapel
And be thankful that he lived.
I'll do the things he'd like to do
Plus all these things he did.

I'll look up high to Heaven
And I'll close my eyes to see.
I'll say.... 'You never really died,
Because you live through me.'

© 2011 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001

August 2011, Volume 26 No. 08
Bereavement Publications, Inc.

"The things we did last summer, I'll remember all winter long."
~Sammy Cahn (1913–1993), U.S. songwriter

"Like painted kites, those days and nights - went flyin’ by
The world was new, beneath a blue - umbrella sky
Then softer than, a piper man - one day it called to you
And I lost you, to the summer wind"
~Frank Sinatra - singer/songwriter


(no more names can be added)







Last Entry in Luke's Journal:

"When there is love in my heart and a smile on my face,
I need nothing else." ~ Luke Ross


Music playing: