Okay... before you read... this is very heavy with scripture... I found it very meaningful... If it helps any part of it... I'm glad.. these messages were left on loving arms by Rea and Myra and they just said a lot to me and I wanted to share them with you... This is a poem by Iris Bolton, author of the book My Son, My Son. Her son died by suicide and she wrote this book to help others thru the pain. I don’t know why.  I’ll never know why.  I don’t have to know why.  I don’t like it.  I don’t have to like it.  What I have to do is make a choice about my living. What I want to do is accept it and go on living.  The choice is mine.  I can go on living, valuing every moment in a way I never did before, or I can be destroyed by it and, in turn, destroy others.I thought I was immortal. That my family and my children were also. That tragedy happened only to others. But I know now that life is tenuous and valuable. So I am choosing to go on living, making the most of the time I have, valuing my family and friends in a way never possible before.Iris Bolton I really identified with the lines about not knowing why and not liking it and not having to like it... I also loved the title to her book... My Son My Son... One more time she claimed him and told the whole world... he was her son...   ________________________________________________________________________________________________ This was posted by Myra... and for me it has some interesting thoughts...  Give yourself  time. Face your grief with tears, time, and one more thing... face your grief with truth. Paul urged the Thessalonians to grieve, but he didn't want the Christians to "carry on over them like people who have nothing to look forward to, as if the grave were the last word." (I Thess. 4:13  God has the last word on death. And, if you listen, he will tell you the truth about your loved ones. They've been dismissed from the hospital called Earth. You and I still roam the halls, smell the medicines, and eat green beans and Jell-O off plastic trays. They, meanwhile, enjoy picnics, inhale springtime, and run through knee-high flowers. You miss them like crazy, but can you deny the truth?They have no pain, doubt, or struggle. They really are happier in heaven. And won't you see them soon? Life blisters by at mac speed. "You have made my days a mere hands breadth; the span of my years is as nothing before you. Each man's life is but a breath" (Ps. 39:5 NIV). When you drop your kids off at school, do you weep as though you'll never see them again? When you drop your spouse at the store and park the car, do you bid a final forever farewell? No. When you say, "I'll see you soon," you mean it. When you stand in the cemetery and stare down at the soft, freshly turned earth and promise, "I'll see you soon," you speak the truth. Reunion is a splinter of an eternal moment away. So go ahead, face your grief. Give yourself time. Permit yourself tears. God understands. He knows the sorrow of a grave. He buried his son. But he also knows the joy of resurrection. And, by his power, you will too.