Poems for our Angels...

For Tia

~by Kim McAdams~

July 24, 2004

Mom  of Skyler Ann McAdams (aka "The Bingaling")


Summer clouds are drifting by;

a slight breeze moves along the still air.

I sit by a wizened oak,

with dandelion dust in my hair.


A mother robin hops nearby

in search of a tasty worm.

She finds her prey and plucks it up

with a gentleness no less firm.


I want to think of tea parties

and princesses smiling bright,

of hyacinths and other flowers,

of balloons adrift - just out of sight.


But my cavernous mind is empty now.

I have no strength to think.

I'm frightened of what else can be lost

if I take the time to blink.


I'm just a woman, not a god.

I have no claim to fame.

I have no control of Earthly Life

And in this I find no shame.


But I wish that Life would sometimes ask

me what I think or feel

And not take such drastic steps

to make Pain a touch so real.


I have known Love, I know it now

and I'm thankful for its presence.

But always, with Love, comes the ache

of knowing that Its essence

can be lost with Time, with thoughtlessness,

with agony and sorrow.

I know today that I have Love

but It may be gone tomorrow.


But please don't think that life is pain;

that there is no beauty to be found.

Because in Love there is also light,

a brightness all around.


Sometimes the darkness makes great shadows

and the light seems awfully dim.

But I'll see a Beauty and hear a Sound

that create an Earthly Hymn.


The darkness clears and again there's light,

though the shadows may just hide.

But they've recessed enough to let me out

with a knowledge that I've defied

Death's wish to close me in,

to lock away my soul,

to leave an empty casing -

I know that is its goal.


But I am free and so are you

and so are those we've lost

to feel the beauty of Love again

though our hearts are constantly tossed

within this realm of good and evil,

of extreme pleasure and cruel pain.

But we have so much less to lose

than we really have to gain.


I tell my Mind that this is Truth

but it must listen to my Heart

Though it also must often take control

so my soul won't fall apart.


So, take me Life, where you will

but still allow me to be free

to think and feel and express myself -

Allow me to be Me.


But please show patience; please show mercy;

Please keep the pain at bay.

This ship called Me just needs a rest

from feeling tossed today.


My Mind now has wakened; thoughts rush in,

and the massive void is filled.

My Mind has convinced my Heart to open

(at this it's very skilled).


I can see the children, drinking tea -

there are mirrors all around;

there are ladybugs and butterflies;

make-up kits scattered on the ground.


She's there right now, having fun -

a mirror in her hand.

She glances up at her arriving friends -

Her wings encompass the distant land.


She wears a crown.  It's glowing bright.

Her smile warms the seasonless sky.

"Tia is here," the Angels whisper

as they flit about on high.


She takes a cup, and it is pink -

the prettiest one on the table.

She makes a toast to a talking fawn

right out of a timeless fable.


She twirls about and sings a song,

rubies glitter on her dancing shoes.

More Angels gather at her party

as they hear the joyful news.


A pretty, wide-eyed Angel glides to her

with wings of a butterfly.

She greets dear Tia with warm hugs

and seeing a tear, reminds her not to cry.


"Your Mom and Dad - and siblings, too -

will always know you're near

And here, in Heaven, you won't know pain -

or suffering or fear."


Tia brightens and glances down

to where her family remains

and sends warm breezes and sunny skies

and a light blanket of soothing rains.


"Why the rain?" the Angel asks.

(Mia is her Earthly name)

"I want to cool their bodies -

their pain burns like a flame."


Mia nods.  She knows too well

about the suffering one's loss can cause -

It ravishes one's soul like a thirsty fire,

one that never takes a pause.


Tia once more looks up

into the eyes of her new Angel friend.

"I'll be with them forever, Mia.

My love will never end."


Mia nods and takes her hand

and leads her to the Angels in the park.

"We want to continue with our party

before it gets too dark."


"There's Night here?" Tia asks,

"I thought Heaven was the Sun."

"Night is our reminder, Tia,

that our lives are not undone.


The Moon is our Hope and Thankfulness;

the Stars are our Laughter and Joy;

the Owls are our Wisdom;

the Fireflies we just enjoy!"


Tia smiles.  She understands.

Within her Life still glows.

She can love and laugh and draw and sing -

She can even wiggle her toes.


"Let's go now, Mia," Tia laughs,

"though there's lots of tea to spare!"

"And I'll take daisies, " Mia says,

"and weave them in your hair!"


The Moon begins its long ascent

into the Heaven Sky

but True Darkness never claims these lands.

Brightness is close by.


Into the sky Tia flies,

her wings opaque but strong -

And gleefully she joins her friends

in their joyous Angel Song...


For Mr. Cole Webb:

~by Kim McAdams~

I've never met the Bongo Boy,
but I've felt him in my heart.
And today that heart is swollen with tears
because he and his parents are now apart.

My words will seem lame and insufficient.
I know this.  I truly do.
Words cannot replace or comfort pain -
but right now, I don't know what else to do.

I write.  That is my solace.
You all know this about me by now -
that I struggle to try and understand
why the curtain must fall after the final bow.

Why must we lose so many children?
Why are their lives so easily undone?
And why don't others see their importance
and feel the need to run?

Our kids ARE Joy - the purest kind -
and Cole's Spirit has always shone bright.
Sometimes I've been blinded by its strength,
so glaring - there is no Night.

His struggles have been part of our lives -
His accomplishments our Hope and Joy.
We've all really come to know and understand
the True Beauty of this amazing little boy.

We've prayed for Cole when he's been sick -
and we've cheered him when he has won
the many battles which sought to crush him -
but even now, Cole's Spirit is not undone!

SMA can't destroy Cole's Spirit -
it cannot snatch away his Soul.
Cole's physical body may be gone,
but his Spirit has attained its Ultimate Goal!

Our Cole is FREE.  He's soaring high -
I'm using imagery I believe to be TRUE.
He no longer needs the physical strength
to do what he's entitled to do:
     to breathe, to sing, to play and run
     to climb trees with Charlie and Marshall
     to catch frogs and bugs and snakes and worms
     (critters to which boys are partial)

I'll be honest here as I say
that I can find happiness for Cole that he is free -
but that doesn't numb the hurt I feel,
because his loss is so painful to me.

My soul aches for Cole's Mommy and Daddy -
Kristin and Dan - you're incredible.  Yes, you are!
You have made Cole's comfort and happiness your LIFE
and now his presence may seem far -
too far away because there's silence -
only echoes of a life that recently just WAS -
the beeps and blips and puffs of noise
are now replaced by a constant buzz.

I can't imagine - and I sure won't try -
to comprehend YOUR loss as you must feel it.
I can only tell you that I am here -
I love your son and I just want to do justice to it.

I'm just sitting here thinking
of what I can possibly say to you -
to take away your suffering - but there's nothing -
I know it.  So, I promise I'll soon be through.

Are there Veggie Tales in Heaven?
It's a question I feel the need to ask.
If not, Our Saviour must act quickly -
for He faces a daunting task!

If there are no Veggies currently there
(and I'm sure that's just for now!)
he'll be greeted by Marshall, the buddy he never met -
to guide him in Heaven - and allow
Cole to receive the peace and happiness
that his physical body deserved.
And in Heaven I know he'll find it,
and to him it will be served -
with the same true love and affection - and devotion -
that was given to him by you -
the parents who fought for his Soul to sing,
and to fly with the angels, too!

I love you, Kristin...

Mommy to Lucas (9), Casey (7) and Skyler (SMA Type I, 3 1/2 years old)




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