I wrote this poem on November 15th, the day Eliana would have turned nine months old. I scribbled most of it on a piece of scratch paper at the library while my living children played with the puzzles and books. As I sat there surrounded by the other children, some about the age Eliana should be, I just started thinking about all the things I miss. Not big dramatic things, but the everyday, simple things that mean the most when it’s too late and you can never do them again. I miss my baby so much. I’d give anything just to hold 254448-r1-01-23-2her little body against my chest again. Moms and Dads, love your babies. Love them every single day enough to last a lifetime, yours or theirs. You just never know when you might not get another chance to hug them and tell them you love them. Do it now. There are so many regrets. Don’t let this be one of them.

Try

By Deanna Parish


My arms cry

Long to hold you

Long to try

Desperate to do

What they should do

Asking why

You had to die.


My hands cry

Reach to protect you

Reach to try

Desperate to do

What they should do

Asking why

You had to die.


My fingers cry

Weep to touch you

Weep to try

Desperate to do

What they should do

Asking why

You had to die.


My breasts cry

Ache to nurse you

Ache to try

Desperate to do

What they should do

Asking why

You had to die.


My lips cry

Want to kiss you

Want to try

Desperate to do

What they should do

Asking why

You had to die.


My eyes cry

Burn to see you

Burn to try

Desperate to do

What they should do

Asking why

You had to die.

My ears cry

Strain to hear you

Strain to try

Desperate to do

What they should do

Asking why

You had to die.

My heart cries

Screams to love you

Screams to try

Desperate to do

What it should do

Asking why

You had to die


My soul cries

Searches to find you

Searches and cries

Desperate for you

Lost without you

Asking why

You had to die

My God cries

As He holds you

As He tries

To tell me to do

What I should do

Trust in Him through all the whys

And cling to those who didn’t die

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