troys

IN LOVING MEMORY
OF MY SON, TROY

I STILL MISS YOU EVERYDAY....

Troy William Fetterman
December 20,1990-August 21,1991

We always think that our lives will be perfect,
especially when we bring a newborn child into the world
But sometimes...."God" has different plans for us...

Sometimes God gives us an angel
and doesn't tell us. Until afterwards.
It changes our lives forever

"The baby has died"
The words no one can say.
Half truths.Turning away. Avoiding eyes.
And pain becomes so powerful
That it pushes everything else far away.
So far away.

Were there ever good feelings?
Where is joy? Eager anticipation? Smiles?
Excitement? Pleasure? Most of all...
Where is love?
You feel nothing but pain.

Pain does go away. It uses itself up.
After its harsh, tormenting , and constant
Battering of self and soul,
Pain slowly stops. With cost, of course.
For feeling always costs.

And emptiness remains.
Sometimes the pain returns as part of the price of life.
But never with such intensity.
The memories of pain begin,
Yet are less intense.

Within the emptiness
The soul feels a different kind of loss
Before beginning its long task of repair and loneliness.
It seeks to find some warmth
Where harsh and constant pain once lived.
For emptiness is cold.

Yet life with its strong pull to keep on living
In the middle of wanting to die
Keeps the soul alive,
Urges the spirit to heal,
Tries to make sense out of nonsense;
Peace out of pain; and love out of loss.

Somehow the memories grow from pain
Into pictures of pretending
How this little life would have grown.
And become. And shared. And laughed. And cried
And been a part of you,
Rather than apart from you.

The memories picture grows with time.
It begins to have a sense of comfort.
A sense of love. A sense of peace.
The emptiness of soul and the loneliness of self
Are lessoned by a sense of warmth and love
That conquers the sometimes returning pain and sadness

Life comes back together
although arranged quite differently.
It is stronger, It is more firm even though held
With moments of sad lonliness
And knowing emptiness.

Yet able to continue. Able to continue living.
Able to know the memories of death,
To know the memories of broken hope.

To be able to say:
"I have felt such bitter pain.
I have cried tears that would not stop.
I have wanted to stop living
Only to stop hurting."

Somehow the miracle of life
Still exists within death.
And I still continue to live
Perhaps to believe in love...
As I am able to say:
"My baby has died"

I wrote this poem for Troy one year after he went to heaven

It's been a year since you went away
We miss you more with each passing day.
Your life was short, who would have guessed
But for the time we shared, we were truly blessed.
Things will never be the same, you know
We'll never have the chance to see you grow.
Although you're not here and we had to part,
We hold your memories close to our heart.
You've touched our lives in so many ways,
And sometimes its hard, just to get through the days.
Our hearts entwine with yours, in love
Until we meet again, in heaven above.
Sadly missed by Mom, Dad, Ryan and Beverly Ann

I'd like to add also, that I wrote this poem, all but the last
two lines. I couldn't figure out out to close the poem, so I asked
my mom for assistance. She wrote the last two lines, and they
fit perfectly...thanks Mom

GOD'S LENT CHILD

I'll lend you for a little while
A child of mine, God said
For you to love the while he lives
And mourn for when he's dead.

It may be six or seven years
or forty-two or three
But, will you, till I call him back,
take care of him for me?

He'll bring his charms to gladden you
and, should his stay be brief...
You'll have his lovely memories
As a solace for your grief.

I cannot promise he will stay,
Since all from earth returns,
But there are lessons taught below,
I want this child to learn.

I've looked the whole world over
in my search for teachers true.
And from the things that crowd life's lane
I have chosen you.

Now will you give him all our love?
Nor think the labor vain?
Nor hate me when I come to take
This lent child back again?

I fancied that I heard them say
Dear Lord, thy will be done
For all the joys thy child shall bring
The risk of grief we'll run.

We will shelter him with tenderness,
We'll love him while we may
And for the happiness we have known
Forever grateful stay.

But should thy angel call for him
Much sooner than we've planned,
We'll brave the bitter grief that comes
and try to understand...
Edgar L. Guest