Tag Archives: SIDS

Piece of pain in my pocket

Tomorrow marks three years since Isaiah died.  It is true, time makes a difference.  It doesn’t heal, it becomes more familiar each bout in the ring.  We learn to live with the pain and carry on.  Written back in January 2008.

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In my pocket is a piece of my heart.

It is a good place for it.

Close by to me

within reach.

.

This piece is broken from the rest.

Its weight changes

like a piece of wood

burdened with water, it sinks

.

deep

into

sorrow.

Too heavy for my pocket

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I pull it out

carefully, but the edges

are too sharp

to hold for long.

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Not for my hands

the pain

cuts my eyes

and into my right.  Tears

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splash concrete.

I place the piece

back in my pocket

and continue working.

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Losing Isaiah

Isaiah Daddy Jonah

Isaiah Andrew Phillips 10 weeks (24th August – 2nd November 2007)

Two years ago on Friday night 2nd  November we unexpectedly found our second born, Isaiah without breath or life. The end of his short life didn’t make sense to us then and it still doesn’t make sense.

Rebecca and I were comforted/supported by many brave, sensitive and inspirational family and friends. Thank you to all of you.

We have struggled with our loss and pain and struggled with our God who we still love and trust but truly don’t understand… nor can we understand. I write this now as I hear stories from Samoan families losing loved ones in a surge of water from the ocean they live beside and read a blog telling me one person dies from hunger every second. There are so many ‘why’s’ in God’s inbox and I don’t know what he does with them.

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Are You God

who made this water? This wave? This sand?

Are You God?

Are You God who made me?

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Are You God

who started life? These pains… the pleasures?

Are You God

who controls seasons? Tells the Winter when to stop?

Are You God?

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Do You see

the crab with broken claw?

the bird struggle with one leg?

Do You see me cry for my missing boy?

Do You see?

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Is there reason

to change the tide? To set the sun?

Is there reason to burn or drown or dry the land?

Is there reason to know pain, hurt and tired loneliness?

Is there reason?

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Where does Your hand end?

Do You tell the sun, the daisy or the wave… Do it again?

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Where does Your hand end?

Do You sit and watch, play a move when you want, stay silent, unmoved… seated?

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Where does Your hand end?

Where do You begin?

Are You God?

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Copyright Andrew Phillips © 2008

Too Many Tears (Rondeau II)

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We know a few families who have had their children suddenly snatched from this life.  This poem isn’t about us or anyone imparticular but probably a combination of all.  It is written from an outsider’s perspective looking in.  It is such a devastating situation.  Highly emotional, painful, raw and so awkward for those on the outside to watch all the grief and pain happening.

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Too many Tears

Too many tears from so few eyes

Blue days become their retched skies

Broken lives in huddled weeping

Bellowed cries make restless sleeping

But how each day do they arise?

Will he check out in death’s demise?

As she breaks down without goodbyes?

Watch love’s torment slowly reaping

Too many tears

Packaged attempts to sympathise

Plainly will not relieve their cries

Compassion knocks with eyes seeping

Passing by… how are you keeping?

Please carry on but don’t disguise

Too many tears”