Mommy's Winter Roses (1 year since Ashleigh's Funeral)

Today was the one year Anniversary of Ashleigh's funeral and in a few minutes a year ago we buried her , the next day. I'm struggling harder today then I did Saturday. I guess part of my problem was that the decision to tell her good bye and to allow her to decide if she needed to go into God's arms and end her suffering was easy. At least easy in the sense that she would be in no more pain, not lingering on a machine. Ashleigh never wanted that and she definitely made up he...r own mind to go. If any of that makes sense.....but burying her body. That was so hard. I wanted so disparately to crawl into that casket with her and just hold her. Like whenever she got sick and didn't feel good. She would put her head in my lap and I would stroke her hair. I kept thinking that I would crawl in there with her and I could just maybe fall asleep. Then we could just wake together and it would all be just some nightmare. Unfortunately the nightmare hasn't ended and the last year has taken its toll. Today, I sat reading a book of poetry by the Bronte Sisters. She loved their writings, especially Wurthering Heights. One of my personal favorites as well. Anyway I'm posting 2 of the poems she loved and a link to a song that these poems reminded me of....The Rose.
For you my Ashleigh and Patience.....love is like a rose in winter, only the strong survive. Mommy's Winter Roses.

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"Desolate, I'm made by your absence.
My life feels empty and aimless.
My senses play tricks on me when I smell your fragrance.
Because the source of that is now nameless.
Secrets and stories we used to share.
We'd sit close together and open our hearts to each other.
Our love was boundless, nobody could compare.
I'd swear you'd be my baby forever, there wouldn't be another.
Like a rose, our love was beautiful in blossom but couldn't last.
It's unfair that we have to endure this pain.
For the snows of Winter settle upon us fast.
I can only hope that Spring will come again."


By Charlotte Bronte

"The Rose"

by

LeAnn Rimes

"Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree—
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?

The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild-briar fair?

Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green."
 

By Emily Bronte