remembering...

“My grief lies all within,

And these external manners of lament
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortured soul”
William Shakespeare

Another pair of tiny hands
To lay beneath the clay
Slumb'ring little baby eyes
To wake another day
O God of heav'n
Come guard this bed
And let this angel sleep
`Till earth is pure for tiny hands
And safe for tiny feet.

The years have passed but the heartache for what might have been remains. The "Tiny Hands" poem is by no means theologically sound, but it expresses the heartache. I love you so much Ana.