Reminders about February Meetings...

Reminders about our first two meetings in February - February 3rd & 10th - As always we will begin promptly at 10AM.

Thursday, 2/03 will be a FUN "Meet and Eat" Session in our normal room at the LHC Aquatic Community Center, rather than a regular meeting. We want to remind Journey Moms to bring a brown bag lunch with whatever they want to eat and drink.

Thursday 2/10 - our meeting will be held at Mohave Community College-Room #818. Because of Spring Frenzy, our Rooms LHC Aquatic Community Center will NOT be available, so for this one week, we will be meeting at the Mohave Community College Campus, in Bldg. #800, Room #818 from 10 until Noon.  The focus of our February 10th meeting will be: "Be Gentle With Yourself While Grieving" and it will be another fun and enjoyable meeting. Rita Stone, a Therapeutic Massage Therapist who lives here in the winter, will be leading the Moms in hand massages, and shoulder and neck massages. Sound fun? please attend. Any questions call: Joyce Floyd @ 453-7940

What is moving on??

~~ by Cherie Houston

Isn’t it amazing how often since our child’s death, so many around us encourage us to begin “moving on”, as though since our child’s death, we had simply stopped someplace on our life’s journey for a brief visit and will now “move on” to whatever’s next!

As many of you know, I’ve lost 3 children: 2 little girls, Randee in March 1971 and Robin in July 1972 and then our 36 year old son Bobby Sept. 19, 2009. Since our first daughter Randee died, I’ve never met a parent who has lost a child that wanted to “move on” during those first days, weeks and months. For us, when the loss of our child is new, we want to stay right where we are thank you.

Don’t misunderstand, that certainly doesn’t mean we enjoy the pain  ~  believe me, we don’t!  But, in some strange way, the pain wraps around us, almost like a cocoon.  Inside that cocoon there is a strange sense of safety that allows us to think of no one or anything other than our child who has died.  For a time that is what and where we need to be - there is no way we are moving anywhere but in that place!!

In the weeks and months ahead, the cocoon seems to get thinner and other thoughts begin to invade our space.  Briefly at first, but other thoughts begin to enter – thoughts of other family members, friends, our homes, our jobs and eventually the world around us. Still the tthoughts of our child prevail, but little by little they begin to mingle with other thoughts – first briefly and as time goes on, they increase without our even noticing...

At first, we may (not may-I believe we will) resent those other thoughts from invading our cocoon, but little by little we begin to welcome them. Those other thoughts give us some rest from our overwhelming pain. In time, we begin to realize that our cocoon is falling away - slowly - but it is beginning to dissipate.

Yes, slowly we are once again getting new wings back and although we may still not be ready to fly and “move on” like it or not, involuntarily our wings are beginning to grow and flutter… We have begun a normal metamorphosis - I guess this is the beginning of our journey from mourning to joy...

Eventually there will come a time when we realize that throughout our day, our thoughts of our child or children who have died, are now in balance with all our other thoughts.  Our thoughts of them no longer prevail. To me, that is when I realized after the death of each of my three children that like it or not, I was in fact “moving on”.

Moving on isn’t a negative thought to me, it was a time in my grief process that I welcomed – for me it’s much too painful not to move on.  Personally, I couldn't and didn't want to remain in that cocoon was the pain was overwhelming and I felt as though I couldn't catch my breath - the sense of drowning is how many describe that initial feeling..

Maybe it’s a matter of survival, but I welcomed the time when I knew I would be able to remember my three children who were no longer with us, and to remember them along with, not in place of, all my other blessings: my other children, my grandchildren, my incredible husband, our wonderful family and friends and all that we’ve been blessed with…  Yes, I welcomed that day...

“Moving on” is not forgetting or ignoring our past or treating it as if it didn't exist. Instead it means we are willingly taking our past along with us. Each part of our past, whether happy or sad, good or bad, becomes part of who we are today…

As the song says “Moving on is hard to do” but it’s so important and such a vital part of allowing us to look forward to our tomorrows. It also allows us to honor our children who have gone before us and for those of us who have been blessed with other children to cherish; it certainly helps us honor them as well…

Enjoy today and all your blessings, large & small.. I have come to believe that “moving on” is in itself a blessing…  Cherie Houston

The Loss of a Child

~ Auhor Unknown

THE LOSS OF A CHILD

The moment that I knew you had died,

My heart split in two,

The one side filled with memories,

The other died with you.

I often lay awake at night,

When the world is fast asleep,

And take a walk down memory lane,

With tears upon my cheek.

Remembering you is easy,

I do it every day,

But missing you is a heartache,

That never goes away.

I hold you tightly within my heart,

And there you will remain,

Life has gone on without you,

But it never will be the same.

For those who still have their children,

Treat them with tender care,

I pray you never know the emptiness,

As when you turn and they are not there

My Daughter Died - Who Am I Now?

A friend sent this story to me recently and I wanted to share it with you.  Although when our children die the circumstances differ greatly - their ages, how they die, our relationships with them and many other aspects - it is amazing how so many of the emotions we experience are "shared" and personally I've found it helps when I'm able to reach someone elses story and can relate to it - the stories of others help me to know that I'm not going crazy, that life - with effort, will regain some normalcy - Yes, we will never be the same, but I think what I've learned throught the deaths of my three children, is that if we want, we can and will become stronger and better people, so although they aren't here, they continue to teach me so much about myself and the world around me and for that I continue to be grateful... Cherie Houston

Enjoy this story by Harriet Hodgson

The death of a child is a stunning blow and changes a parent's life forever. It is an out-of-turn death -- something that should not happen. My daughter died at age 45 from the injuries she received in a car crash. Her death changed my identity and my life. Some of the changes are good and others are not so good.

One good change is my sensitivity to other people. Though I have always been a sensitive person, I am more sensitive now. My daughter's death, her appointment of my husband and me as her children's guardians, and becoming a GRG (grandparent raising grandchildren) have given me many new writing topics. These are good changes. What about the not so good?

When you have lost four loved ones as I have -- my daughter, father-in-law, brother, and former son-in-law, all in the span of nine months, life becomes scary. Tragedy found me and I wonder if it will find me again. Raising my twin grandchildren is my new life mission and I do it joyfully. That does not stop me from worrying about teen behavior, peer pressure, and my grandchildren's futures.

According to a Cancet Net website article, "When a Parent is Grieving the Loss of a Child," when you lose a child you may lose a close friend, link to grandchildren, and family support. My deceased daughter was all of these things and her death has left a gaping hole in my life.

Jane Bissler, PhD, writes about identity change in "My Child has Died and so Have I!: Grieving the Loss of an Adolescent Child." Her article is published in the January 2009 issue of "The Forum," the printed newsletter of the Association for Death Education and Counseling. The death of a child takes the parent's breath away, Bissler says, and changes the parent's personality.

Despite one remaining adult child, I often feel like the parent of an only child, and this surpises me. Therese A. Rando, PhD writes about identity in her book, "How to Go on Living When Someone You Love Dies." Grieving parents are in transition, Rando notes, and have to adjust to a new world. Language changes from "we" to "I," for example. Aspects of personality are lost and new aspects are found. According to Rando, bereaved parents need to reinvest their energy in other people and pursuits.

"You then will need to integrate your new and old selves together," she explains. I am reinvesting energy in grief books, grief articles, and talks about multiple losses. In addition, I am reinvesting energy in my husband, grandchildren, and our extended family.

The time will come, according to Bob Deits, MTh, author of "Life After Loss," when I will reconnect with life. I am doing this now. Though my identity has changed a bit, inside I am pretty much the same person. I love to write, love to cook, love intellectual challenges, love to laugh, and love sharing life with my twin grandchildren. This is who I am and who I will be in years to come.

Visit Harriet Hodgson’s website: http://www.harriethodgson.com/

Harriet Hodgson has been an independent journalist for 30 years. She is a member of the Association of Health Care Journalists and the Association for Death Education and Counseling. Her 26th book, "Writing to Recover: The Journey from Loss and Grief to a New Life," is published by Centering Corporation in Omaha, Nebraska. Centering Corporation has also published the "Writing to Recover Journal," which contains 100 writing affirmations, and the "Writing to Recover Affirmations Calendar," a stunning collection of photos and life affirmations

Grief is a lifetime journey when our child dies…

It is said that when a parent dies, we lose our past; but when our child dies, we lose a part of our future.

Parental grief is boundless. It touches every aspect of [a] parent's being...When a baby dies, parents grieve for the rest of their lives. Their grief becomes part of them...As time passes, parents come to appreciate that grief is [their] link to the child, [their] grief keeps [them] connected to the child. ~ by ARNOLD AND GEMMA, IN CORR ET AL. 1996, 50-51

Grieving parents say that their grief is a lifelong process, a long and painful process..."a process in which [they] try to take and keep some meaning from the loss and life without the [child]" (Arnold and Gemma 1983, 57). After a child's death, parents embark on a long, sad journey that can be very frightening and extremely lonely- a journey that never really ends. The hope and desire that healing will come eventually is an intense and persistent one for grieving parents.

The child who died is considered a gift to the parents and family, and they are forced to give up that gift. Yet, as parents, they also strive to let their child's life, no matter how short, be seen as a gift to others. These parents seek to find ways to continue to love, honor, and value the lives of their children and continue to make the child's presence known and felt in the lives of family and friends. Bereaved parents often try to live their lives more fully and generously because of this painful experience.

To those outside the family, the composition of the family may seem to change when a child dies. A sibling may become an only child; a younger child may become the oldest or the only child; the middle child may no longer have that title; or the parents may never be able to, or perhaps may choose not to, have another child. Nonetheless, the birth order of the child who died is fixed permanently in the minds and hearts of the parents. Nothing can change the fact that this child is considered a part of the family forever, and the void in the family constellation created by the child's death also remains forever.

In a newsletter for bereaved parents, one mother wrote, "It feels like a branch from our family tree has been torn off." Another grieving mother continues, "I felt that way too. A small branch, one whose presence completed us, had been ripped from our family and left a large wound. Without it, we were lopsided and off balance. When subsequent children are born, [they] do not replace the fallen branch, but create a new limb all their own" (Wisconsin Perspectives Newsletter, December 1996, 1).

This is an excerpt from an article in “www.athealth.com”

To read the entire article go to their website via this link…

www.athealth.com/consumer/disorders/parentalgrief.html

When No Words Seem Appropriate

~Author unknown

WHEN NO WORDS SEEM APPROPRIATE

I won't say, "I know how you feel" - because I don't.

I've lost parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends,

but I've never lost a child.

So how can I say I know how you feel?

I won't say, "You'll get over it" - because you won't.

Life will have to go on.

The washing, cooking, cleaning, the common routine.

These chores will take your mind off your loved one,

but the hurt will still be there.

I won't say, "Your other children will be a comfort to you" - because they may not be.

Many mothers I've talked to say that after they have lost a child,

they easily lose their temper with their remaining children.

Some even feel resentful that they're alive and healthy

when the other child is not.

I won't say, "Never mind, you're young enough to have another baby" - because that won't help.

A new baby cannot replace the one that you've lost.

A new baby will fill your hours, keep you busy,

give you sleepless nights.

But it will not replace the one you've lost.

You may hear all these platitudes from your friends and relatives.

They think they are helping.

They don't know what else to say.

You will find out who your true friends are at this time.

Many will avoid you because they can't face you.

Others will talk about the weather,

the holidays and the school concert

but never about how you're coping.

So what will I say?

I will say, "I'm here. I care. Anytime. Anywhere."

I will talk about your loved one.

We'll laugh about the good memories.

I won't mind how long you grieve.

I won't tell you to pull yourself together.

No, I don't know how you feel - but with sharing,

perhaps I will learn a little of what you are going through.

And perhaps you'll feel comfortable with me

and find your burden has eased. Try me.

 

COMMUNICATION WITH SURVIVING CHILDREN

By Mary Cleckley - TCF

If you are fortunate enough to have surviving children, when was the last time you:

- Told them how important they are to you?

- Thanked them for their patience with you during these dark hours?

- Assured them that had it been one of them who died, it would have been just the same?

- Told them that the reason you struggle so hard to survive is because you want to enjoy life with them again?

- Reassured them there will be joy and some happiness in your family’s life again when you have had the necessary time to create your new life?

- If you haven’t told them lately—or even if you have—tell them again. Both you and they need that reassurance.

Just for today

Just for today I will live through this day only, and not set far-reaching goals to try to overcome all my problems at once. I know I can do something for 12 hours that would appall me if I felt that I had to keep it up for a lifetime.

Just for today I will be happy. Abraham Lincoln said, “Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be.” He was right. I will not dwell on thoughts that depress me. I will chase them out of my mind and replace them with happy thoughts.

Just for today I will adjust myself to what is. I will face reality. I will correct those things that I can correct and accept those things I cannot correct.

Just for today I will improve my mind. I will not be a mental loafer. I will force myself to read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.

Just for today I will do something positive to improve my health. If I’m overweight, I’ll eat nothing I know to be fattening. And I will force myself to exercise – even if it’s only walking around the block or using the stairs instead of the elevator.

Just for today I’ll do something I’ve been putting off doing for a long time. I’ll finally write that letter, make that phone call, clean that closet or straighten out those dresser drawers.

Just for today before I speak I will ask myself, “Is it true? Is it kind?” And if the answer to either of those questions is negative, I won’t say it.

Just for today I will make a conscious effort to be agreeable. I will look as good as I can, dress becomingly, talk softly, act courteously and not interrupt when someone else is talking. Just for today I’ll not improve anybody except myself.

Just for today I will have a program. I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it, thereby saving myself from two pests: hurry and indecision.

Just for today I will have a quiet half hour to relax alone. During this time I will reflect on my behavior and get a better perspective on my life.

Just for today I will be unafraid. I will gather the courage to do what is right and take the responsibility for my own actions.

Just for today I will expect nothing from the world, but I will realize that as I give to the world, the world will give to me.

My Angel Baby

The followng introduction and poem were sent to me by one of my students, hoping it might help a young mom who is grieving.  Her own daughter, recently miscarried and lost her first child, my student found this poem for her daughter and thought it might be helpful for another young mom experiencing the tragedy of losing her precious baby..It is from the website:

www.familyfriendpoems.com

Death of a loved one is always a cause for mourning. However, when a baby dies, there is a sadness that goes beyond normal grief. We are programmed to expect that the old outlive the young. When a person who has lived a full life passes away, there is a sense that everything is as it should be. When a baby passes, who has not even has the chance to experience life, his death seems meaningless. If he was meant to die so soon why did he even come into the world?

My Angel Baby

© Heather

I never got to see your eyes,

or hold your hand, or hear your cries.

All I have are dreams of you,

those of which, will never come true.

My heart sank the day that I knew,

I would never get to meet you.

I had made plans, and had aspirations,

if only I had a little more patience.

I never thought the Lord would take you

away from me so soon.

But, I'll never forget that dismal day,

around two in the afternoon.

The day I knew something was not right,

and through many tears I would have to fight.

Now, all I do is dream every night,

about what life would have been like.

What if you really had been born?

But all we have a dreams of that,

and all we can do is mourn.

We will not mourn for you though,

because we know you're where you need to be,

even though it isn't here with me.

You are my angel baby because God wanted you with Him.

Now, forever with his angels, His praises you will sing.

None of my dreams for you will ever come true,

because of that day God chose to take you.

But, my angel baby you will always be,

in my heart forever, forever a part of me

Sometimes I Just Need to Cry!

~ Martha Honn, Bereaved Mom, BP/USA, So. IL Chapter (8.12.2006)

I feel that I am a very fortunate woman. Outwardly that may not be the first comment others would tend to make about me. You see there has been quite a bit of pain in my life.

• When I was eight years old my father died by suicide and I was the one who found him.
• My first child was born with spina bifida. We were told he probably wouldn’t survive, but as I write this I will tell you he is almost 32 years old. However, he has had to endure many corrective surgeries and gets around in a wheelchair.
• My mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor and we anxiously waited to hear the outcome of that surgery. My mother survived with the only adverse effect being her loss of smell.
• My marriage ended in divorce after 20 years. The marriage wasn’t all bad, but I felt it slowly died during our last five years together.
• As a single mother of three I found life financially challenging even though I worked full time.
• Then in 1999 my youngest child died suddenly in an automobile accident. 

I grieved and cried after each painful experience. The intense pain I felt the first few years after my son’s death has grown softer over the years. The pain in now part of the person I am today. The events that occurred prior to my son’s death played a part in preparing me for what was to come. Perhaps those previous painful experiences allowed me to acquire an inner strength that even I did not know I possessed.

I have learned the importance of releasing the pressure that builds up inside when I experience something painful in my life. I didn’t learn this overnight. Sometimes I did things wrong or in unhealthy ways before I learned to handle what life handed me in a more healthy way. I seem to be a student of the School of Hard Knocks. Crying and talking it out seem to work best for me. It allows me to periodically release the pressure I carry inside me.

In 2003 I remarried. While I couldn’t have asked for a more compassionate and understanding man, he is typical in his desire to fix whatever needs fixing. When I cry he so desperately wants to get me over the hump quickly. It’s hard for him to see me hurting so badly. I have tried to help him understand the “pressure cooker effect” by explaining that if I don’t periodically release the pressure I will explode.

We both came from farm backgrounds and both our mothers canned to preserve fresh food for our families using pressure cookers. Steam was periodically released from the pressure cooker. If the pressure was not released periodically, the lid blew off. I’m just like that pressure cooker because I need to periodically release the pressure. A good cry releases that pent-up pressure.

After a good cry I usually feel tired, but much better. Crying is a much needed release. It’s too bad more people don’t know about the pressure cooker effect. Maybe people would regard crying differently then. Yes, sometimes I just need to cry!

Music and Mourning

An excerpt From the Handbook for Mortals by Joanne Lynn, M.D. and Joan Harrold, M.D.
 For as long as there has been music, there has been music to help people through times of sadness. The origins of most Western music can be found in the Gregorian chants of medieval monks. Sometimes these were written for everyday prayers, but frequently they were written for funeral masses. From those beginnings, a tradition of funeral masses, or requiems, continued in classical music to the present.

Jazz music has long been played at New Orleans funerals. Sad songs are played at first, then happy songs celebrate the deceased and share the joy of his entering a better life. Show tunes, rock and roll, folk songs, and gospel hymns all deal with loved ones dying.

The songs and tunes we hear can serve as a unique companion. In offering comfort, music makes no demands on us at all. When singer and guitarist Eric Clapton’s son died, tragically and suddenly, he wrote a song to him called "Tears In Heaven." This beautiful song struck a chord with many people. For those who had lost a child, hearing someone else mourn a similar tragedy helped them to feel less alone in their grief.

No matter the reason, music helps us turn a flood of emotions into something more manageable. With or without lyrics, melodies communicate and interact with our souls. That is why so many cultures use music, and why some songs cross many cultures with ease.

The music people use is as diverse as people can be -- from electric guitars to trumpets to choirs; from slow and soft, as in Mozart’s "Lacrimosa," to bright and crisp, as in "When the Saints Go Marchin’ In." Often people choose to listen to something that was special to the person who has died. This is guaranteed to bring up memories that may be uncomfortable but may also be healing. There may also be special music which has helped before, in other times of struggle, and may help again now.

What makes music so important to those who grieve? Perhaps listening to music gives us a special time just to think about the people we love. Often our minds are racing too fast, or not moving forward at all, in our initial moments of shock. Having music around gives us a rhythm, a structure around which we can reflect, and grieve. Like a metronome, or deep breathing, it gives a rhythm to our fragmented thoughts.

Music also has the powerful ability to draw out memories obscured by time or emotion. It seems to have a near-magical ability to penetrate through the present day to remind us of other occasions. Sometimes songs and melodies so accurately pinpoint an emotion that they transport the listener to another time and place. In times of grief, this magical quality can recall times and emotions long forgotten because of prolonged illness and strain.

Sometimes in our sadness and shock, we merely feel numb. Certainly this is a protective mechanism, a perfectly normal approach to grief, and nothing to be ashamed of. But sometimes music helps evoke welcome thoughts and feelings

WE ARE THE CHILDLESS PARENTS

~ By Sascha

WE ARE THE CHILDLESS PARENTS

I am the childless mother

lost between loving and pain

lost to the promise of children

searching for answers in vain.

I am the childless mother

caught between courage and fears

left without bridge to the future

finding no sound for my tears.

I am the childless father

caught between courage and fears

left without bridge to the future

finding no sound for my tears.

I am the childless father

lost between loving and pain

lost to the promise of children

searching for answers in vain.

We are the Childless Parents

sharing the grief and the night

sharing the darkness together

waiting to walk in the light

Some Things to Think About and Wrestle With as a New Year Begins

Alright - we made it thru the holidays and now it's time to begin a New Year...  Easier said than done for many of us, especially for those of us who are beginning our first, second or even third new year without our child...  Firsr of all remember it's OK to take baby steps into this new year... Try to find some joy and peace each and every day - even if it's the simple fact that you made it to 10am without crying or you may have found yourself marveling at the sunshine or that road runner that scampered across your front lawn or that picture you found of your child that you rememberd but hand't been able to find...  just find one little reason to smile today...  Cherie Houston

A few other suggestions made by Elaine Grier a TCF Atlanta, GA member (also an assistant professor of adult nursing at Georgia Baptist College of Nursing of Mercer University) might be:

1. Do what feels right to YOU, not what feels right to someone else. This is true every day, but it has special importance during this tender time of year.

2. Remember that experts who study us "parents who have lost children" say that when a parent loses a child, 85 percent of your total body’s energy is consumed with grief work! That leaves only 15 percent of your energy … total. If we evenly divide that up, we find we have only about 5 percent of our normal energy to do physical things, 5 percent to do emotional things, and 5 percent to do spiritual things. Use what little bit of left-over energy you have to do what feels right to you. Make choices for yourself. Don’t let others make choices for you. Choices. Be sure they are your choices.

3. Talk about your child as much (or as little) as you want to this season. Remember that family and friends who haven’t walked this journey of grief may be afraid to recall memories of special holiday times, or they may be hesitant to even speak the name of your child for fear of making you “remember” him or her. Well, duh. Don’t hesitate to say, “I need to talk about _____(your child) tonight.” Or, “Do you remember that time when _____?”

4. Remember that the craziest, most unnatural thing in the world has happened to you: You have lived longer than your child. If we agree that the craziest thing possible has happened, how can anything we think or do during this new year be “crazy?” If anyone dares to say to you, “I can’t believe you hung his/her stocking up at Christmas" or "why did you include him/her in the New Year toast" or any other such foolish statement - just remember they don't know what to say or maybe, in some rare cases, they are just ignorant people.
You can say nothing … or, you can kindly say, “This is what I need to do.” And simply leave it at that.

Elaine Grier is an assistant professor of adult nursing at Georgia Baptist College of Nursing of Mercer University. She teaches nursing students about the experience of grief throughout their baccalaureate curriculum. She also previously served as co-chapter leader of the Atlanta Chapter of TCF.

4th Annual Retreat

We have several more spots open for our 4TH ANNUAL RETREAT, which will be held Friday 2/25/11 2:30pm to Sunday 2/27/11 at 11am. Any mom who has attended will tell you without hesitation that this is an incredible time of healing and you will be welcomed with open arms...

Our retreat is open to any mom who has lost a child.  Maximum capacity is 40 moms. so to guarantee your spot, please call or email Joyce Floyd ASAP to confirm you are coming.  Joyce's tele: (928) 453-7940 or email: texaslady@rraz.net


This years theme is “"I Can See Clearly Now ~ Treasuring Yesterday, Embracing Tomorrow”. Our Guest Speaker will be Dr. Lynn Paulson with Flying Heart Industries, Life Coach and Motivational Speaker from Anchorage, AK

Our retreat will be held again at Stagecoach Trails Guest Ranch, 19985 South Doc Holliday Road, Yucca, AZ (their website is: www.stgr.com)

Total Cost is $175 which includes lodging for the two nights/three days, dinner Friday night, breakfast, lunch and dinner on Saturday, and breakfast Sunday morning, as well as all materials (payment in full is due immediately)

Please make checks payable to: A Journey to Joy and bring your check to our next meeting Thursday, January 6th OR mail it immediately after confirming your reservation with Joyce to either:

Joyce Floyd, 3480 Oro Grande, LHC, AZ 86406 ~ (928) 453-7940 – email: texaslady@rraz.net

OR

Debbie Christensen, 3040 Appletree Dr., LHC, AZ 86404 ~ (928) 680-2628 Ext. 31 work or (928 ) 453-7199 home

Upon receipt of payment, you will receive a letter with directions and further information prior to the time of the Retreat.

Happy New Year - St. Theresa's Prayer

Saint Theresa is known as the Saint of the Little Ways, meaning she believed in doing the little things in life well and with great love. For many of us who are grieving, little steps seem momentous as we continue on our journey but ask for her help and she will help you find the strength...

Saint Theresa is represented by roses and I wish for each of our moms “lots of roses” during the coming new year and may you be blessed with peace and happiness and wonderful memories of your children that make you smile and allow your heart to sing once again…  Happy New Year to all  ..

Saint Theresa' s Prayer

May today there be peace within.

May you trust God that you are
exactly where you are meant to be.

May you not forget the
infinite possibilities that are born of faith.

May you use those gifts that you have received,

and pass on the love that has been given to you.

May you be content knowing you are a child of God.

Let this presence settle into your bones

And allow your soul the freedom to
sing, dance, praise and love.

It is there for each and every one of us.