After Maddie passed away, my Aunt Kathy started emailing me stories she’d planned on sharing with Madeline. As the oldest of my mom’s siblings, Kathy has always had a better recollection of the many events that happened during their childhood. Some of the stories I’ve heard a few times, and they always bring a smile to my face. Others are new to me, and I cling to every word, seeing the adventures unfold in my mind.
My favorite stories are the ones she tells of my grandma. My grandma was an amazing woman. She had five children in five years. She raised her children on her own (with a little help from my great-grandmother), worked full-time, and still made dinner every night. She lived with us when I was growing up, and taught me how to sew. She was the best listener and was always available to take me to one of my many lessons or practices. When I got older, she let me borrow her car when I couldn’t bear the embarrassment of being dropped off by an adult. She always put her family first. We named Madeline in her honor.
A couple weeks ago my aunt told me the story of when her brother passed away. I already knew about Tommy. He was diagnosed with Leukemia when he was in elementary school. My aunts and mom all remember him being sick and laying on the couch. They were jealous (in the way only kids can be) that he got to watch so much TV and meet Tim Considine from “Spin and Marty” and “The Hardy Boys.”

Tommy (l) and Tim
I’m sure Tommy was jealous that his siblings got to go outside and play.
My mom and aunts knew Tommy was very sick, but they never thought he wouldn’t make it. This is because my grandma protected them all. She never let them see how scared she was. And then, when he didn’t make it, she kept protecting them.
My aunt wrote,
Since we lived in a shoebox there was really nowhere she could go to have the privacy she needed in order to grieve, so I never really knew if she ever found a place where she could truly experience the pain and sorrow she was feeling. I just know that she kept on going for all of us and as time passed, to us, she was just like the mom she had always been in the past with one exception. For several years after Tommy’s death, we would take rides out to the cemetery near the San Fernando Mission where he was buried. We would stop at a roadside stand and pick up carnations, usually red ones, and then lay them on his grave. I never saw her cry when we stood by his grave–she was so strong–but I also know that losing Tommy ripped a hole in her heart.
After I read this, it hit me that my beloved Grandma would have understood exactly how I was feeling. That we had a terrible, terrible thing in common. I missed her so much in that moment.
Yesterday, my mom and I went to the San Fernando Mission Cemetery. My mom hadn’t been for many, many years, and I had never been at all. As we walked the rows of markers searching for Tommy’s, I was struck by how close together the graves were. And then I started looking, and I realized we were in the children’s section. They don’t need much room.
I wandered the rows, reading the headstones, noting that some only had one day etched on the stone, while others had just a few years between the first day and the last.
Some had familiar dates.
And some had familiar personalities.
There isn’t enough room on a headstone to tell the story of a child’s life, or a parent’s love.
I thought about the parents that had walked the same path as me all those years ago. I felt overwhelmed by sorrow.
After a bit of help, my mom found Tommy under the shade of a tree.
We laid down flowers. Red carnations, like my grandma used to bring. And purple ones, for Madeline.
I stood there, covered by the shade of Tommy’s tree, and I thought about my grandma. I felt her pain, our pain. I pictured her coming to visit her son and not being able to cry for fear she’d frighten her other kids. I imagined her coming without her kids, and kneeling on the grass. I hoped she got her release. I cried for her in case she didn’t. I cried for my mom, and my aunts. I cried for all the other parents that had knelt on that lawn. I cried for my Uncle Tommy. And I cried for my Madeline.

Aunt Terry, my mom, Uncle Tommy, & Aunt Kathy
Karen Sugarpants says:
Somewhere she is looking down on you, her arm around your shoulder as you walk this journey. Beautifully written Heather. xo
Kelly says:
And so, I now cry with and for you.
We took a similar walk not long ago. My husband’s grandmother, who raised him, lost 3 children. I cannot even imagine. As I looked at their headstones, I tried, and then decided I should just be thankful that I don’t know.
You moms who suffer this loss.. I send you all the strength God has to give, and all the hope, too.
Kelly says:
PS: I love old pictures like this. So gorgeous.
Kim says:
My heart aches for you and your Grandmother and all parents who have had to bury their children.
When I go to visit my Emma, I always look at the other babies. I cry for their Mamas, I cry for myself. I am not strong enough to not let my other children see me cry. That is probably because Emma is my oldest and died before I was pregnant with any of the others, so I was very used to crying when I felt like it.
Anyway, just wanted to let you know you are not alone in this grief. There are so many of us in this awful club. I wish you hadn’t been forced to join it. If you need someone to talk to…email me anytime.
JennyD says:
Beautiful, sad story…thank you for sharing!
AMomTwoBoys says:
I love Aunt Kathy.
Meg says:
My grandma had a miscarriage, and I never knew it until my cousin told me that she had just had one and that our grandma had only then confided this secret in her. Grandmas have a way of understanding.
When I was 14, on the night my dad died from cancer, the same Grandma also told me that there was no pain like burying a child. And she was already a widow by then.
I hope I never experience it, and I”m sorry you have.
qcmama says:
and now I cry for you and and for your Madeline also. I have come close to losing my son before and I am so thankful that he made it through. You and Mike and Madeline are in my thoughts and prayers every day. Take are of yourself. (((HUG)))
ryanandjoesmom says:
wow – your mom looks so much like Madeline in that last picture with Santa. Took my breath away.
Hugs and love to you and Mike
Chris
Grandmaother says:
I see you in Tommy – and he wore glasses,
which touches my heart, too.
maya says:
I got chills when I saw the twins grave with the date Nov 11th.
*sigh*
Lisa says:
Make sure you post her stories somewhere so you always have them be it here or someplace a little more private.
This was a great story and thanks for sharing it with us.
colleen says:
Wow! So beautifully written. No question in my mind that your Grandma is looking down on you and thanking you for visiting your uncle Tommy. There is also no question she has Maddie on her knee and is telling her the same stories she told you.
Maria says:
Heather, thank you for sharing this story and your beautiful photos.
When I was a kid we used to play in old Puritan cemeteries when we visited New England. Back then, I had no way of understanding how devastating the graves of children really were.
ali says:
this is so beautiful, Heather. SO BEAUTIFUL.
Tara says:
I don’t know what to say. I just want you to know that I visit your blog everyday and I read your words and they overwhelm me with emotion. Thank you for writing. This post was beautiful.
mmsteini says:
Beautiful post, Heather!
mrs. chicken says:
I’m here, in a coffeeshop, surrounded by young people. Sons and daughters, sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts. Mothers, even, and fathers, too. And I am weeping with you, for you, and for your beloved grandmother and mother.
She knows, your grandmother. She does, and she is in your heart, helping you share these stories. And your words are helping her, too.
This I believe, as I believe my own father is in my heart. This I believe, because I have to.
Heather, I love your soul. It is so lovely, and so very strong.
Vixen says:
This story touched my heart deeply in ways both so good and so hard.
Mostly I wanted to say your writing it just so stunning. Really fantastic.
Love to you and Mike.
Auds at Barking Mad says:
Brilliantly written Heather.
I wish I had more words…but sometimes when I read your words and how fresh your grief is, my old searing grief comes flashing back and it takes everything I can just to get through your posts.
Holding you and Mike up in thought and prayer.
Therese says:
Beautiful Story!
nic @mybottlesup says:
magnificent and beautiful you are.
Melissa says:
Thank you for sharing this part of your journey. Your writing is just beautiful, heartbreaking, but beautiful all the same. I hope that knowing your Grandmother’s strength helps you to continue to find your own during this unbearable journey. She must be so proud of you for being so strong and I hope knowing that she is gives you some amount of peace.
Hugs. Huge hugs.
Leslie says:
This is so beautiful. You sure come from a long line of amazing women with such strength and grace that, along with a great smile and sense of humor, were clearly passed on to Maddie.
SouthernSis says:
Don’t know you personally, and don’t know Tommy, but I cried just the same.
Jennifer says:
Absolutely beautiful.
Debby Pucci says:
Thank you for sharing your story. Your Grandmother was an amazing woman. To think that she held all of that inside, I can’t even begin to imagine doing that.
Jo says:
Absolutely breathtakingly beautiful painful post. Sending blessings and love your way.
avasmommy says:
Heather, this is a beautiful post.
Not a day has gone by since Maddie died that I don’t cry for you, and for her.
Thank you for sharing your stories with us. I hope your writing brings you some healing
cindy w says:
I love this story. Thanks for sharing. And I love knowing that Madeline is with your grandmother and her great-uncle Tommy now. It’s not good enough, I know – she should be here. But I hope that it can bring you some tiny amount of comfort.
Undomestic Diva says:
Wow. What a beautiful post.
Elle says:
Love the new look of your blog! Beautiful story. My grandmother lost her first baby boy at birth and then had 5 beautiful girls to follow.
In Due Time says:
Beautiful post Heather. Thanks for sharing with us. We cry for you, and Mike, and your Mother, too.
Tami says:
I know its hard Heather, . And it is a big hole left in your heart that may never heal. My heart breaks for your loss of Maddie. I would be totaly lost if I didnt have my son with me.. I think of you guys daily..
Hugs,
Lisa says:
I am crying at your beauitfully written, heartfelt post. I shed tears for all the mamas and daddy’s who have lost a beloved child. I weep for my own grandmother who lost four of her fourteen children prior to her passing away at the age of 82. The last of the four to pass away, my uncle David was in his 50’s, and at his funeral, my grandmother, 81 at the time weeped uncontrollably (the woman rarely cried) and screamed in Spanish- Not my son. Not another one. Oh, the heartbreak. I realized in that moment, regardless of the age, your children will always be your children.
wn says:
Heather, great post…incredible to find a new link to someone in your family…even after several years. Incredible.
Also, love the new design.
Courtney says:
Wow those stones are very eye opening to how many children lose their lives so young and without a chance. I am glad I found your site awhile back because I know now that the March of Dimes will be my charity for life, even though it did not directly affect me, it indirectly did through your beautiful Madeline. Thank you.
Courtney in New York
sam {temptingmama} says:
Beautiful.
You’re beautiful.
I love you.
Carrie says:
This story is so touching. Yes, your grandma would have understood your pain all too well. Those headstones made me cry. No parent should have to go through what you are going through.
Beret says:
My husband and I bought our first home shortly before our wedding. It was the perfect starter home, but just happened to be next to a quiet country cemetery. After we moved in I spent an afternoon walking among the gravestones. There I found one with the portrait of a little 18 month old boy on it , and the inscription “We’ll like you forever, we’ll love you for always, as long as we’re living our baby you’ll be.” I cried so hard that day, really hurting for the mother and father whose little boy was there. I never saw anyone visiting the grave, but each week the flowers were fresh and new.
I hurt for you Heather, for anyone who has ever lost a child.
Melanie says:
I’ve shed a lot of tears for you, your family, and of course little Maddie. I check your blog almost every day. (I used to use http://www.remembermaddie.com, but that one doesn’t seem to be working anymore.) I’ve been able to keep from crying for a while but this post really was like a kick to the stomach. The little grave for the little “character” who died just before her fourth birthday in particular. My Madelyn is about that age and I just can’t imagine how awful it must be to lose a child. Beautiful post.
Always thinking of you all…
Kara says:
Beautifully written post Heather. To know those stories from the past is a true gift. What a great Aunt Kathy. I’m so sorry to know that you and your Grandma have something so tragic in common, but take comfort knowing where you get your strength from.
Michele with One L says:
My daughter is buried with other children too. Sometimes I walk around and look at the other names and let them if just for a moment find a place in my heart. I prefer to go there alone, so I can get some release without my family watching me, trying to comfort me.
I believe your strength is a legacy from grandma.
Trisha says:
You amaze me every time I read.Your stories and feelings are so poignant and eloquent and yet very raw and intense all at once. You may not be able to feel your strength right now, but through your reading I can tell how strong you are and that you are beginning to heal. You continue to write to us everyday.
Again I am praying every day for some ease of your pain to come into your heart.
Jennifer says:
What a beautiful post. I am blown away by your writing and trying not to cry in my cubicle at work.
pbandjazz says:
Heather,
Thank you for sharing your thoughts, memories, stories and your life with us. Your words are not just words, they are inspiring, motivating and touching to me. You sharing the good, bad, and ugly with all of us helps us learn and grow. If I were you, I would shut down and not let people in. You and Mike are amazing people and your Maddie, we know how amazing she is! Thank you so sharing about your Grandmother, another amazing woman.
Suzanne says:
As usual, I’m riveted to my computer while blinking back tears. Everything about this post is beautiful. As I read it, I imagined your grandmother holding her Tommy and your Madeline.
amanda says:
Love, love, love to you, your mom, and her whole family. Gorgeous post.
Karen says:
Though obviously a very sad day, you’ve managed to capture beauty and love in that post. Truly beautiful…
badassdadblog says:
Thanks for sharing this memory. Visiting graves isn’t something I do very often. Even when I visit my mom I rarely visit my brother’s grave. I just don’t think of him as being in there. That’s his body. That’s not him. I’d rather go down to the Yuba river or Deer Creek Falls and visit my memory of him there, where he lived. Everyone has to find their own way to grieve, and to honor those who aren’t here anymore for as long as we remain. I know you’ll find your way with Maddie, in time. I hope your aunt keeps sharing stories. They’re gold.
Ms. Changes Pants While Driving says:
beautiful.
hugs.
i love your new layout ;D
Deborah says:
I am crying with you today. Much love to you and your family.
Kelly says:
My baby brother is buried at that cemetery, as well as both my grandfathers. I’ve been going there since I was four years old. Last week I broke down crying there, praying for the help of my family in other things. I know they aren’t really there in that ground, at that really the ones that you have lost are with you at all times, but it’s amazing the peace that you can feel crying beneath trees lightly blowing in the wind at the San Fernando Mission.
God bless you Heather.
Amy says:
What a powerful story. I am crying too. Stories from our ancestors are so valuable…cherish them.
Jessica (@It's my life...) says:
The inherent sorrow of the child’s section of a cemetery always gets to me. In the other sections there’s the hope, the possibility that the people lying there lived a full and happy life, in the kid’s section there’s only reminder after reminder that somewhere a mother is grieving for her child.
Must Be Motherhood says:
This is a really beautiful post, Heather. It’s astounding to realize how many families have been touched by a child’s death–my mother’s brother was killed by a schoolbus when he was 4. To cross the threshold into that new place where you understand that kind of grief is an awfulness I can’t imagine. But I do imagine that it is maybe a little easier to rest your burden on the shoulders of the many women who have gone before you–and to know that you are not alone in the despair you feel. Maddie has a schoolhouse of children to play with up there.
Domestic Extraordinaire says:
What a wonderful post. It is amazing that you got to know your grandmother so well & that you are even closer to her. xoxo
P.S. I really like the new header.
Kristen McD says:
Beautiful, and deeply touching. Thank you for sharing their stories with us.
kris says:
There’s no doubt in my mind that Tommy is cradling Maddie in his arms right now and telling her all sorts of stories. I, too, lost a sister as a child and I visited her grave this year for the first time in many many years. {{{{{{{hugs}}}}}}}}
Christine says:
Beautiful post…you are an amazing writer. Thanks again for sharing so much.
Megan says:
How beautiful – and yet such a sorrowful way to bring you even closer to your grandmother
Lisa says:
I too sit and cry with you…. I know the grief you feel after loosing a child… I grieve for my first born son everyday…. I know how hard it is and I pray for you everyday…. I can’t imagine what your grandmother had to go through not being able to grieve over his grave, but I too pray she was able to find her release by herself and was able to cry her tears for her son… I know how hard it is to stand over a little ones grave and not cry… to this day I still cry over his grave….
I pray for you everday!
Much Love to you!
Pam says:
this is beautiful. excruciating, cry in my coffee, but beautiful.
Amy says:
All of those tiny markers…so sad. I am not a super religious person but I like to think that all of those children (your Maddie as well as all of the children who have passed away before her) are in a huge playground together… laughing, happy and healthy. I adore the last picture in your post. It is beautiful.
Thinking of you.. always.
Katherine says:
OMG. Bawling.
Jennifer says:
Aw, it’s so heartbreaking seeing those little gravestones.
Your new blog design looks great!!
amanda says:
Beautuful post! Thank you for sharing! Very touching!
You are in my thoughts and prayers
Terri says:
My great grandma lost 2 babies within days of each other from scarlet fever. Ive thought of her often and how horrible it must of been and how strong she was. Ive never laid flowers on their graves though. I don’t know why. I will now, for her because she can’t and also for your dear girl.
DesignHER Momma says:
Heather –
You have written some awesome post in the most recent past – but this one really hit home for me, for some reason.
Way to give me a SOB…
moosh in indy. says:
Pregnant women. Sheesh.
Issa says:
I’m sure she watched you put flowers down for her son. And Heather, wherever she is, I’m sure she’s got your Madeline right with her.
Tammy and Parker says:
I hope this doesn’t sound too crazy. But I just want to tell you how proud I am of you. Of the mother you are. Of how you are navigating this path that no parent should ever need to walk.
You make me want to be a better Mom to Parker.
You make me want to make the world (or at least my corner of it) a little bit brighter.
While your heart may be broken, your spirit shines.
Truly.
Tammy and Parker
ParkerMama @Twitter
http://www.prayingforparker.com
http://www.5minutesforspecialneeds.com
Rumour Miller says:
I have yet to visit my nephews resting place…. next time I go “home” I am going to go.
Angie says:
Oh wow…unexpected tears welled up for me…Our Tommy, who lived not far from you, died in 2005. Yes, he was an adult, but I miss him so. And Dolly is my nickname for my daughter. I used to do the memorial day flower delivery with my grandparents when I was young. It’s true — grave sites can’t tell the stories behind the people…both little & not so little.
Erica says:
Dear Heather,
I’m in tears again today reading your words. You have such a way with words, a real talent. This is such a moving post. As others have already said, thank-you again for sharing. Just like your Grandma, you too are an amazing women. And an amazing Mum to the precious Maddie. I hope you find comfort in knowing that your amazing Grandma and her Tommy are taking care of your precious Maddie.
Thinking of you today as always.
With love from
your stranger friend, Erica in Luxembourg
Becky says:
Now you know I’m not goth (altho now that I say this, I *will* be showing up with dark eyeliner and a Cure T-shirt and say I’m a vampire, but I digress (aren’t I always digressing?) (shut up).
Very near my house, we have a child cemetery and while I was in high school, my friend and I would often go visit it. It makes me weep to think about all of those lost children and babies being laid to rest in such a peaceful place. I thought that the place should have been much more like hell. Because that is what it must be like to lose a child: living hell.
I love you, you sexy thing. I’m wrapping my hammy arms around you and squeezing. And no, you may NOT borrow my black eyeliner.
tamara says:
Wow, I am so touched by this post. I read your blog everyday, and have never commented.
I am speechless!
Kelly says:
Once again, amazing. Once again, you have managed to bring tears to my eyes. Your beauty, sincerity, grace and pain echo in every word, bringing it to life for anyone who reads.
I’m sure that your grandmother is holding both Tommy and Maddie right now. What an amazing woman. What incredible strength and grace. Just like her incredible grand daughter
As always, sending love and hugs to you all
chris says:
That post was beautiful. I grew up in a small town and there was a old cemetery there and as kids we would ride our bikes through and we always ended up in the childrens section. I remember, even as a child, looking at those headstones and feeling very very sad for the children and their parents. I remember saying prayers for their families and recently I went back and still felt incredibly sad that so much tradegy has to happen in this world. Be strong and hang in there.
christine says:
That was such a beautiful post. I come here every day and cry with you and for you too…
Sareh says:
this is a beautiful post. terribly sad, but beautiful. i read it earlier on my way to target and was forced to conceal my tears and puffy eyes with sunglasses (i’m sure everyone around me just thought i was super cool). i had to come back and comment to let you know how much this blog means to me and so many others. i don’t know your pain first hand, but my mother’s heart goes out to you every day.
JustAMom says:
Damn.
Lady Lemon says:
Wow. Very moving story about your Uncle. Very lovely pictures. It’s really amazing how many people have lived through losing a child.
Jenn says:
Thank you for sharing the pictures, and the story. It was well written, and I appreciate you posting it. For years I went to my mothers grave with pinkc carnations, and my boyfriends with yellow. The last shirt I saw him in was yellow, and it seemed fitting.
I am fascinated at times by the graves I see, especially those of young children. I wonder about their story, and I pray for their parents.
Once we took a friends little boy with us to the cemetery. She got lost in the children’s section, and when leaving her small son said “Bye bye babies”, even though no one had mentioned it was the children’s part. He was very small so it was surprising. So maybe the truly are little angels all around us.
Michelle Pixie says:
So Beautiful…I am completely overwhelmed with so many emotions…I am moved…
Elaina says:
This was beautifully written and brought tears to my eyes for you and for those who understand the pain of losing a child.
Misty says:
And I’m crying for you…again…I do frequently you know. It doesn’t help but, I’m so sorry. No mother should have to lose a child. I am so sorry you have…hmmm…I guess that’s all.
Krystle says:
What a beautiful post Heather.
maggie, dammit says:
Stunning post.
Sarah P says:
I often wondered how my mother ever coped when my brother died. there was so little support. In a small town, where could she go, who could she talk to about her sorrow? We have pictures of his tombstone and even though we moved away many years ago, one by one, we have returned to visit it. His life was so brief, it was the only tangible reminder of his life. I am glad you have so many beautiful memories of Maddie though I ache for your loss. xxx
Erica says:
Today is the birthday of my daughter and the first anniversary of the death of my son and I wanted you to know I appreciate your ability to put into words what I often feel.
Shirley says:
Incredible story. I have been following your blog for some time but just recently commented. I never feel like I have the right words. I can’t even imagine what you are going through but I wanted you to know I cry for you and your sweet Maddie.
Amy says:
Wow, Heather, what a truly moving and beautiful post.
Haley-O says:
Wow. Your grandmother must be looking down on you — shading you with her comfort. Little Maddie in her arms, Thomas by their side, all wanting the best for you…. ((hugs))
Amy says:
I was lucky to have my Great-Grandmother in my life until I was 21. She had 4 children, 1 of whom died at age 11. She kept a small oval framed picture of her daugher that died on her dresser until the day she died at age 93. She was buried with it too. I would always look at the picture of that little girl and wonder. As a small child, I didn’t know anyone except elderly that died. I was fascinated by the picture. Now that I am a mother, I look back and realize how much grief she must have endured. My heart aches for her and for you Heather.
moosh in indy. says:
Dude.
You think you’d cook more with a lady like Grandma in your life.
xoxo
Lovely as usual.
deb from NY says:
Dear Heather and Mike,
I am here everyday and don’t always comment. I Just want to say..once again.. Get on writing and I will keep on reading.
Neena says:
You have a real gift for storytelling! I find the way you write about Maddie and your family to be very real and full of love. I always enjoy stopping by your site.
Susan says:
Wow- I looked at the pictures fist and they told the story-
kristen says:
so happy to see you taking so many breathtaking pictures again…and combining them with your wise words, too. i think this was one of the first posts that didn’t make me cry…not because i’m a heartless b*tch…but because you have a real ability to connect with people (complete strangers, in my case) and make us think and feel things in a whole new way. this time my brain drifted to thoughts of my own beloved grandmothers who passed away long ago…thank you for that memory.
thinking of you, mike and maddie and sending love your way.
amy says:
Wherever I travel I seek out the cemeteries. Why? To me they are so peaceful, artistic and tell so many tales about the society at the time and the people who have gone before us.
The only part of the grave yards that make me truly sad are where the little ones are buried. And like you, I wonder how many parents stood before them with their souls so lost and grieving.
I did not know Maddie was named after your Grandma, what a wonderful gift for them both.
farrellmo@yahoo.com says:
You are truly a gifted writer. I just want you to know that I read your blog everyday and think of you and your family. Your words make me stop time and again to relish teh little moments and the everyday. you have changed the way I look at the time I have with my daughter. Every time I read your posts I realize how precious every moment is and I ache for you and the moments you got cheated out of.
MelissaG says:
It’s profound to realize other perspectives I think. My, would be, uncle was killed by a car at age 5. It was always sad but it’s not until I now have a 5 yr. old that I understand what was taken away from my grandma, dad etc. My grandpa on my mom’s side died when I was 2 weeks old. I’ve always thought how sad it was for ME to have never known him. Not realizing how hard it must have been on my mom to lose her dad while caring for a newborn….
Your Grandma sounded like the best. And what a neat aunt!
p.s. My old saved link doesn’t work anymore to get to your blog. Maybe it’s just me? Had to search Yahoo to find…just to let you know.
Al_Pal says:
*sniff*
Another beautiful entry.
Kari (heartatpreschool) says:
Really beautiful.
Love your new blog design!
habanerogal says:
very inspiring Heather
Rachel says:
A few months ago, I happened to be driving down the road when I passed the cemetery where my great-grandparents were buried. On a whim, I decided to go visit their graves. They died many, many years before I was born, so I never knew them. In fact, I dropped in because I remembered going there with my own dear grandma, their daughter. I know it sounds funny, but I went in to relive some memories of her- I don’t believe I had been there since she passed away 11 years ago. While I was there, something caught my eye. Across from my great-grandparents resting places was a small section with numerous tiny headstones and trinkets, a family appeared to have lost several infants at birth or shortly afterward. I lost it. I had to sit in the car for awhile before I drove away, because I could not hold it together. My own dear grandma lost two of her babies (one as an infant, one as an adult) and I just cannot imagine the pain in that situation. If it reduces me to a sobbing mess, then I do not see how parents who have gone through that function. Thank you for your touching post and for continuing to share your Madeline with us.
Liliana says:
Very touching story. I’m so gald you were able to visit him.
Jodee says:
This was so sweet and touching thank you for sharing this story with us.. And as always a big big ((hug)) and so much love…
Insta-Mom says:
Beautiful and poignant.
Sher says:
It’s amazing how we can hear old stories over and over and never think to ask questions because we’ve heard the story so often, we think we know all there was to know about the story.
After my Mom died I thought about all the stories she had told me about her life and all the times I never asked her questions, I just listened thinking I knew it by heart because I had heard them so often.
I didn’t know them by heart. Now that I am a Mom I have so many things to ask her and she’s not here, things I should have asked when she was alive, but didn’t. Like how she coped with the death of her own Mother when my brother and I were little and she didn’t have time to cry about it. I still cry over her and she’s been gone 8 years.
I wished I had brought her flowers everytime I visited her after I moved out. Because now, I take them to the cemetery instead.
If I could tell anyone anything it would be not to take things for granted. Not boring old stories, not taking the time to be kind to someone, not taking flowers to your Mom everytime you see her and not asking questions.
I am always sorry for your heavy heart everytime I read your words. But by your writing and your open soul I am taught, again, not to take things for granted.
Maddie will guide you to something and I think she knows you are listening.
amy says:
Thank you for this post.. a reminder to enjoy and embrace my parents NOW and as long as they are with us…
Linda in Canada says:
What a beautiful tribute you have written. I love to read your thoughts as you and Mike make your way through this journey that is yours.
You are a gifted writer.
Thank you.
Alexandra says:
This is stunningly beautiful. I always think how your posts the last 2 months would be so life saving and helpful to someone who is barely surviving, or who has no idea how to even survive, after losing an angel of theirs. So many people in the world right now, who are just hanging on to their sanity …
Truly, Heather, this is astonishingly beautiful.
Ashley Hast says:
Still praying for you every day.
Childwoman says:
Dude, this hurts soo bad..damn, just damn….
Beth says:
Beautiful, touching post… brought tears to my eyes.
Noelle says:
I am crying for you, and with you. Many hugs and wishes for peace.
Kristen says:
Do you know how extraordinary you are? You do not curl up and fade away. You are brave. You stand up and keep going. You don’t hide, you walk right into the cemetary. You face our astonishingly beautiful, confusing, enigmatic world and you regard it without ego. I think that is why Maddie chose you to be her mommy. Her special soul needed a very special soul to survive her trauma, to love her more than anyone was ever loved before, and to keep going for her when she became unable to shine on herself. You are extraordinary. Just like your Grandma. Just like your Aunt and Mom. Just like Madeline Alice. I bask in the light of your heritage of strength and grace and silent understanding and it makes me feel better when nothing in the world feels right.
I love you,
@kristeneileen
Krissa says:
((Hugs)) … I hope for every parent who has lost a child that they find your website because I think they would really find some comfort in it. And I hope that you find as much peace as possible as you make your way through the pain and sadness. Your love will carry you through. ((Hugs))
LiteralDan says:
Boy, that nearly-4-year-old’s headstone just breaks my heart, the same way each time I go back and read it, even more than the story of your Uncle Tommy. Probably because my son’s only just 5 now and the concept is that much more vivid.
Anyway, I also hope your grandmother got all the release she needed, and I know either way she would envy both you the ability you have to process your grief through your writing and whatever support the blogging community can offer you and Mike. Please keep sharing, and taking whatever you need.
AFarrell says:
Heather, I just wanted you to know that in Australia November the 11th is called Remembrance Day.
At 11am Australians observe a minutes silence in memory of those who died or suffered in all wars and armed conflicts. This year I will be thinking of your Maddie. xx
Alexandra :)(? says:
That was the second saddest and most beautiful thing you’ve ever posted, Heather. (the saddest being the initial annoucement…no wait. You didn’t even post that) No wonder it took you so long to get through it!
Lynn from For Love or Funny says:
What a beautiful post, Heather. I read it three times.
Kathy says:
Beautiful, beautiful post… unbearablly sad to think of Tommy and of your dear grandmother’s pain as she held it together for the sake of her other children….really unbearable.
melany says:
So beautiful.
Molly says:
What a beautiful (and sad) story. I wish your grandma were here to give you a hug now but I’m glad you’ve got her memory.
Jill says:
Beautiful. I understand the connection with your grandma. Those of us that have been lucky enough to build a bond with our grandmas know exactly what you’re talking about. I imagine she’s playing with your uncle and Madeline.
thank you for the beautiful post!
S. Renfrow says:
That’s so beautiful. You have such a way with words, making us feel like we are right there with you. In my world where I have the opportunity to enjoy my baby girl, I so appreciate that I can step into yours and have some understanding of what you are going through. You make me feel compassionately alive…
I wish your grandma was still here for you. Can you imagine the conversations and comfort the two of you could have shared?! Although, I’m certain all three of them, including Maddie are watching over you.
Amy in Oregon says:
What a touching and sweet tribute to Maddie, Tommy, and your grandmother. They were all with you on that walk through the cemetary.
Amy in OHio says:
So beautiful Heather. Your writing has always struck me, but now it cuts through me like a knife. Beautiful.
Amanda says:
This is a beautiful story. It reminds me of my own grandmother, who became a widow when my grandfather passed away at only 51. They had nine children, and my youngest aunt was only 6 at the time. She was so similar to your description of your own grandmother, having to contain her own grief because she was trying to do her best for her kids. When I was 11, one of my uncles committed suicide, and she never cried in front of any of us. I always admired her strength, but it also seemed such a heavy burden.
The site redesign is gorgeous. Love it!
TUWABVB says:
And I cried for all of you after reading this. And I can picture one Madeline looking after the other.
Danny says:
Oh, such a beautiful post. Thinking of you all every day.
(How was it that your uncle got to meet Tim Considine? Wasn’t he also the original oldest son on “My Three Sons?”)
Carrie M. says:
Beautiful story… It sounds like you have a wonderful and nurturing family. Thanks so much for sharing.
Love,
Carrie
Jenn says:
OOhh Heather – what a touching post!!!! It made me cry. I’m glad you realized someone truly does understands the pain you suffer on a daily basis. I bet your grandma is up in Heaven, snuggling Maddie right now. OOhh, how I ‘d hug you if I could!
Thinking of you yesterday, today and will do so tomorrow!
Your Stranger Friend,
Jenn
bessie.viola says:
This is so beautiful… I’m absolutely touched. How terrible that she went through the same thing, and yet – what a source of strength. Surely she’s walking this path with you, Heather. She’ll be snuggling your Madeline as she does.
m says:
such a beautiful post….
Creepy Mommy says:
So, I was just checking out your latest blog and got distracted by your mamarazzi pictures of Maddie. Really, one of the most beautiful baby’s I have ever seen. You Flickr stream shows nothing but a funny, sweet, loving and bright little Miss Sassafras. I really, really wish things had been diffirent. Maddie is never far from my thoughts.
Anissa@Hope4Peyton says:
*deep breath*
H, you know this one hits me deeply and all I can say is that it makes me love you more..if that’s even possible.
Lindsay from Florida says:
It’s strange how you can know things about your family and yet not really feel them until you are placed in a similar situation. I always knew that my grandmother lost a sister, but only recently did I begin to try to place myself in her shoes.
You are incredible, Heather. I’ve never met you, and yet you are one of the strongest and most inspiring people ever to come into my life.
Thoughts and love, as always.
Christine says:
And now I cry too! My heart aches for you and all the other mommies in the world that have to lose their precious babies. God bless you today and always!
trinity says:
This is a beautiful entry, Heather.
I can only imagine how much your grandmother would have appreciated you visiting her baby’s grave.
I think sometimes just remembering someones loss means so much to those who have lost children especially as time passes and people move on.
How touching that you took your dear uncle carnantions for him & from maddie too,
Your post also reminded me of a precious poem I read a few years ago:
The Dash
I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
from the beginning… to the end.
He noted that first came the date of her birth
and spoke of the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
that she spent alive on earth…
and now only those who loved her
know what that little line is worth.
For it matters not, how much we own;
the cars…. the house… the cash…
What matters is how we live and love
and how we spend our dash.
So think about this long and hard…
are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left.
(You could be at “dash mid-range.”)
If we could just slow down enough
to consider what’s true and real,
and always try to understand
the way other people feel.
And be less quick to anger,
and show appreciation more
and love the people in our lives
like we’ve never loved before.
If we treat each other with respect,
and more often wear a smile…
remembering that this special dash
might only last a little while.
So, when your eulogy’s being read
with your life’s actions to rehash…
would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent your dash?
– Linda M. Ellis ((c) Copyright 1999)
trinity says:
PS, The top picture of the cemetary is striking.
It looks as if the clouds are in the shape of the wing of a bird which reminds me of this scripture:
31 but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Isaiah 40:31
Much love to you & your family from North Carolina….
Elizabeth says:
Heather – you express this difficult time so well. With each post I keep thinking I’m seeing the first draft of a book … a book that will celebrate Maddie’s life and that will offer a glimpse to those of us supporting grieving families, and hope to those suffering the same pain.
Tina Hosko says:
Wow Heather. What a post. Thank you for sharing this with me. Love you
Jolene says:
Beautifully, beautifully written. I hope your Grandmother got her release too.
kathryn says:
Beautiful.
Marti from Michigan says:
I love the new look of your site here. I loved this story too. I have tears in my eyes now too.
My grandmother, who died when I was 10 years old (48 years ago), lost her husband and one of her sons to Huntington’s disease and so I never knew them. She lost a daughter to uterine cancer, and she lost a baby son at 6 months old to what they called “quick pneumonia”, but I think it was crib death. Back then, 1930s, they had no ambulance or hearse to drive a body to a far away burial ground, so my poor grandmother had to drive from Grand Rapids Michigan to Bryant Indiana with a dead baby in her arms, to bury him in the family plot.
I think about how much my grandmother meant to me and how much I still miss her to this day. I think about what she went through losing her children and her husband. I still tend to the grave of my uncle that I never knew.
Kirsten says:
What an amazing story and so well written. I am sure your grandmother’s heart is broken for you. I bet she and Tommy and Maddie are enjoying sunshine and laughter together somewhere.
michele says:
Heather. Your entry was beautifully written and touched me. Thank you for sharing Tommy’s story…and Maddie’s stories will continue too.
“Stories have to be told or they die, and when they die, we can’t remember who we are or why we are here.”
Sue Monk Kidd from “The Secret Life of Bees.”
Thinking of you and your family.
Michele from Maine
Dra says:
I am crying and feeling your pain, that was just so touching. Big hug for you. Thinking of you and your Maddie.
Emily says:
I have never commented here, but have been reading your blog for a few months now. I guess I just never knew what to say (that hadn’t already been said so well by previous commenters). I loved your post today – your grandmother sounded like an amazing woman and it’s nice to know that even though she’s not here to comfort you, she still is. God Bless.
Ann says:
My mother lost a child at six months to a heart defect. I never knew my older sister but I have always felt my mother’s pain. She died over thirty five years ago and my mom still grieves. I am so sorry for your loss. It’s just not fair that a parent has to lose a child and go through life with that pain.
Jana says:
That was intensely beautiful and the connection of both your losses and Madeline’s namesake…I have chills of immense sadness.
May all those children and their loved ones be in peace.
Amanda says:
Wow.
I wish that your Grandma was still here so that she could grieve with you and just be there as someone who has gone through something so terribly similar.
I am always so, so saddened by children’s cemeteries. My mind cannot wrap around the idea that so many parents have had to go through such a horrible, harrowing experience. It shouldn’t be that way. Ever.
Nicole says:
Stumbled on your website looking at another website about comfrey leaf of all things. I found myself clicking on the link “Remembering Maddie” and I have been touched. Your writing about going to Tommy’s gravesite and cryng for your grandmother and mom and aunts . . and for Maddie was beautiful writing! Do you read books? There is a short book (true story! It has to be a true story for me) about a woman who died and actually came back to life! It’s all documented. It’s called “MY GLIMPSE OF ETERNITY by Betty Malz.” It’s an amazing story and deals with death. I’m about your age but when I was three, I found this on a book rack and for some odd reason handed it to my mother. She thought it looked interesting and fell in love with the story. She’s passed this book out literally my whole life and everybody has loved it! If you were my friend, I would give you this book. But since I can’t, please buy this for yourself! I think it would be comforting. (My Glimpse of Eternity/ Betty Malz) Take care.
susan m says:
http://www.prayforjoseph.blogspot.com/
Lisa says:
Thank you for sharing that story. It is wonderful that your aunt is sharing all those stories with you that she was going to share with Maddie.
My mom had a late term miscarriage when I was little. I never remember her crying about it. I remember her being in the hospital for a few, but that’s it. I’ve never had the courage to ask her about it because I didn’t want to upset her. I think I will now. Every mom deserves the chance to grieve for their lost little ones.
Thinking of you. Much love and many hugs.
Lindsay says:
I love this post. I’m a new reader but this was my favorite thing I’ve read in a while in the blogosphere I tell you. And it was such a timely post because today at work we were talking about storytelling and how there are SO many beautiful stories to be told…Have a nice weekend!
Glenda says:
Heather, great post! thanks for sharing. I know what you mean about your grandma being a strong women. My mom buried my father, her mother, her granddaughter, her 2 sons. I can only imagine the hole in her heart. She stayed strong for her kids one step at a time. She never remarried, and passed on August 2004. Now I bear the hole in my heart for her, for my father, grandma, niece and my brothers. Sometimes life is unfair! Sending you hugs! XO
Lisa says:
Wonderful post. How awesome that your Grandma continues to inspire you and you can still learn from her. A true testament to a life “well done”.
Vanderbilt Wife says:
My husband had a little brother who died when he (the brother) was 10 months old. My in-laws were so protective my husband never even knew what his brother died from until I asked his dad when I was pregnant. To be robbed of grieving is painful. As painful as a parent withdrawing? I don’t know. There has got to be some balance.
Kimmie says:
Oh Sweet Heather, how you have touched my heart tonight. I love you…thank you for sharing….thank you.
amy says:
I am angry that this has happened. You are two obviously loving parents who did so much for Maddie. She was so very loved..
My mom lost 2 babies to late miscarriages and then a baby which was born still. She went on to have us 6 (three boys, three girls). I will never understand the pain she felt in the years before I was born. So wanting a healthy child and continually shattered..
I think of you daily and spunky Madeline.
sweetsalty kate says:
Heather, this really got me thinking… it’s so evocative, and melancholy too, but it also reminds me of accompaniment. I like that. I’ll take whatever accompaniment I can get. So lovely.
One of your readers pointed us to this post and you’re part of a group of writers nominated for a Glow in the Woods award for this spring. http://www.glowinthewoods.com/home/2009/6/24/glow-in-the-woods-awards-spring-2009.html
And so I thought I’d say hello (and hope to bump into you at BlogHer) and pass on a huge thanks for sharing as you do. You’ve stretched Maddie’s reach beyond her life. It helps more than you, or Mike, or her… it helps people you’re not aware of who navigate this same gauntlet, and who read your thoughts late some night and nod and feel accompanied, too.
Much love,
Kate