My name is Aqualynne Carnahan. This past July 8, my beautiful 17-year-old daughter died in her sleep. She had epilepsy and wasn't taking her prescribed medication. She'd been staying with my father in Michigan while getting her GED while I was working in Virginia. She died at her paternal mother's house.

It was a shock to us all. I'd been led to believe by doctors that death by epilepsy was very rare and that it was something that she'd potentially outgrow. Obviously, this did not happen.

I found your website through a Yahoo search. I've been stuck in Michigan these past few months dealing with my father. He became suddenly and terribly ill after my daughter died, and I was the only one who could stay with him. He's doing much better now, but it's been a long road.  I've lost people I thought were friends and learned that some I thought of only as being on the outer edges of my family and social structure were dependable, wonderful human beings.

While going through my own grief and sudden exile from my job and my life, I did find solace in the poetry and articles at your site. I'm heading back to Virginia in just over a week, but I assure you, I'll still be visiting your site often.

Anyway, to get to the point, I've always been an amatuer writer and writing poetry and a short story has helped me a great deal in dealing with my grief. I'm sending you two of the poems that I've written. Feel free to share them. I know reading other's poetry, although heart-rending, has often given me some comfort.

As I light this candle in memory of you I still remember the awful pain of losing you. Though you are gone from my sight, deep in my heart your flame will always burn bright. My eyes are often filled with tears but not as much as they were in those first few days.

When I close my eyes I can still see your smile and hear your laugh as I think of you. As I now stare at the flame of the candle I can see images of you dancing in the light. So as the flame burns brighter so shall my love be even stronger for the rest of my days.

Copyright © William T. Patterson, Jr. 12/2001. All rights reserved.

We do not remember days, we remember moments.

In their book Spiritual Literacy (Touchstone Books, 1998), authors
Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat tell about Oggie Rand. He manages a
cigar store in Brooklyn. Oggie has an unusual habit - at precisely
eight o'clock each morning, he photographs the front of the store from
exactly the same spot. He collects his daily snapshots in photograph
albums, each labeled by date. He calls his project his "life's work."

One day Oggie showed his albums to a friend. Flipping the pages of the
albums, the man noticed in amazement that the pictures were all the
same! Oggie watched him skim through the pictures and finally replied,
"You'll never get it if you don't slow down, my friend. The pictures
are all of the same spot, but each one is different from every other
one. The differences are in the detail. In the way people's clothes
change according to season and weather. In the way the light hits the
street. Some days the corner is almost empty. Other times it is filled
with people, bikes, cars and trucks. It's just one little part of the
world, but things take place there, too, just like everywhere else."

This time Oggie's friend looked more carefully at each picture. No two
were alike. He slowly became aware of how unique every moment is.
Through a series of photographs, he became conscious of one of life's
great truths -- that each minute that passes is special, even sacred!

Writer Henry Miller has said, "The moment one gives close attention to
anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome,
indescribably magnificent world in itself." But we'll never get it if
we don't slow down. For it is these moments -- not whole days, weeks,
months or years -- that we will finally remember. Whatever happiness
and joy is to be found in life will be found in the moments.

Pay as close attention to each moment as you can, as if you were
carefully observing a series of snapshots. Don't rush through them,
allowing your mind to jump so far ahead that the present is lost. Each
is unique. Each is sacred. And each holds a special place in time. In
the end, it is these moments you will cherish and remember.

About the author:  Steve Goodier is a professional
speaker, consultant and author of numerous books. 

The day we got that call I really didn't think
you'd die I must say
For we were just making plans
For what was to be your Christmas wedding day
What has been two years
Has seemed much longer to me
Now you're in our hearts
Its how it has to be

You were taken away from me at such a young age
I guess you could say
You were released from your cage
Everybody always says I feel your pain
But they don't

It's like clothes
They are perfect until they get stained
Yes our mother misses you
I hear her cries throughout the night
But I understand that kind of pain
For me its just the same

I always wish I could have been there for you
To help you safely out of the car
Shoot, I would rather you be behind prison bars
Than not here at all

But because of you
I know that there will be a day
That I will finally get to see you
And see that smile on your face

You brought us to God
You showed us the way
You let us know his word
You were always brave

I was always jealousCause you were beautiful and smart
But I was always happy cause you were my sister
From the start

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you
And how things didn't have to go wrong
Now I'm always wondering what to do

The world can take away my belongings, everything I have,
He can take away my life
But he will never take away the love
And special relationship that we had

I would give anything to go back and change that day
I would give anything to have told you that I love you
Before you went to another place
A place more perfect than earth
A place more safe and warm

But at the same time that you are in heaven
You are in my heart for sure
I'm just waiting one day
To wake up from this bad dream
But the scary thing is I'm not dreaming

My biggest wish is that I could have been there to let you know
How much I really love you
But now it's too late

If I could talk to everybody in the world
I'd let them know
To be careful for what they ask for
Be careful of what they say
Because you never know when
someone you love becomes an angel…
For me December 1st was that day

I love you Jill

Love always, Jessy
 
Written For My Big Sister By: Jessy Campbell
Nov.29,2001

Every day brings something different
Each day brings something that's new
Whether it's new found feelings of happiness
Or thinking of something I should have said to you

I wake each day feeling lonely
I go to bed feeling that same way too
The habits are breaking slowly
But I still can't stop missing you

The phones don't ring like they used to
The places we went aren't so important anymore
I'm used to those things being missing
Yet I'm still hurting right down to the core

I try to take each day as it comes
I've stopped trying to fill in the gap
I've accepted that I can no longer have you
Even though my heart still lies on your lap

I'm still mixed up confused and lonely
And everyone outside seems to forget
That I'm missing the most special person
And that I'm not nearly over him yet

Some people see life as a whole
The don't need to break it down to cope
I'm breaking it down and getting by day by day
My existence is like a knotted up rope

I need someone to love and feel close to
I want to be special again so very bad
I know I'll never feel the way that I want to
No one can love me like I was loved by my dad

I write because it makes me feel close to you
I like to think that you can hear what I say
I know I'm probably just being silly
But it helps me get by day by day

Love you Dad xxx
Copyright Jenny Harris, November 28, 2002

Mornings come
And evenings go
We lost a hero 8 months ago

Every night I'd watch the news,
But I never thought my brother
would be the next for our country to lose

A political war, a nation's hate
And you defending your country
Brought upon your terrible fate

In this fight for peace there are no winners
And while we kill off each other
We are all to blame—we are all sinners

More boys are still dying
And so many families are left crying
The flame of your memory will never go out
I think of you while I try to understand what this war's all about

I can't help but think that there's more I could've done
And all I have left are memories of laughter and fun

Don't ever think that I have forgot
It shall stay with me forever
That day you were shot

So with all my love I bid my goodbye
Till we meet again up above in the sky

Mornings still come,
And evenings still go
When I lost my dear brother 8 months ago

Copyright © 2002 Danielle. All rights reserved.

About the author: Danielle (bunnydani) I'm 17 years old. I was born in South Africa and moved to Israel 4 years ago. My brother, Steven was killed while serving in the Israeli army.

Twas fourty short years ago,
When, I first heard his cry.
This tiny boy with golden hair,
And large brown twinkling eyes.

Just fourty short years ago,
'Twas a pleasure to hear his cry.
And the child grew to become such a man.
Only to die!
Only to die!

The grave now covered with leaves.
And flowers strewn about.
The headstone black that holds his name.
Forever I shall feel without.

He was the most wonderful son.
And so filled my heart with joy.
Oh how I miss, the man, my son.
The child, my baby boy.

Inspiration: My son George Feb 24, 1960—Dec.5,2000
Copyright: 2001 Floria Kelderhouse

Inspiration: "We are confident, yes, well pleased rather to be
absent from the body and to be present with the Lord."  2 Cr 5:8

Even though my eyes are closed
I know that you are still near.
Even though I cannot speak
You can, and I can still hear.

Tell me anything, talk about your day
Better yet, hold my hand-and maybe even pray.

It's almost time for me to go
To leave this shell behind
This disease has destoyed my body
But it did not touch my mind.

Even though my time on earth
Has come to a painful end
I am in the most wonderful place
I am with Jesus, my very best friend.

Copyright: Lessa 11-25-2001

I don't understand
Why you had to go away,
I wasn't done,
I had much more to say.

There were so many things
I wanted to share with you,
So many things,
Left for us to do.

I should've made you talk,
I should've seen through your tears,
I should've been there,
To comfort and calm your fears.

You were my strength,
But I feel I let you down,
Oh what I'd give,
To have you around.

But it's too late,
You're gone now, my friend,
But always know in your heart,
I loved you until the end.

About the Author: I am a 42 year old divorced mother of four wonderful children. I wrote this after my best friend, Tammy committed suicide.

When I see your face, I can't stop crying
If I said I was okay, I'd be lying
I look at you now and wonder what went wrong
I know you don't have all that long

As hard as it will be, you'll be happier up there
You have earned all your feathers to get up in the air
My time with you has been a lot of fun
But now I realize it is all done

I couldn't change this no matter how hard I tried
One day you will move away and be with family
In your bed you would have died
Be happy then and put all bad thoughts aside.

About the author: Emily is 13 years old and after seeing her Grandpa in palliative care needed to write this song.
Copyright: November 18, 2002 Emily Amero