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I cried, cried, cried.
I cried so much,
Tucker started to cry.
I wanted to stop crying
for him,
if not for me.
But I couldn’t.
He climbed into my lap.
His language is touch.
He wrapped himself around me.
We cried together.
“I miss Daddy,” I said.
“You are safe, buddy.  I’m just so sad.”
Tyler climbed the stairs in his footie jammies.
He returned with my Cinderella doll.
His language is gifts.
He gave her to me, sure of her consoling attributes.
Tyler climbed up beside me,
on his knees, snuggled close.
He looked so closely at my eyes.
He touched a tear as it spilled down my cheek.
With his fingertip, no larger than a pencil eraser,
he painted my face with my tears.

Tricia Lott Williford

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  1. Crying for and with you. Such beautiful little boys, showing their caring hearts and love for their Mommy through their own love languages. The missing is so hard.

  2. stinging with pain for you.

  3. Your boys did not say a word. They sat with, touched and offered comfort without them. Sometimes we feel like we can speak grief away. When groans are too deep for words, children teach us to sit quietly with it…with each other. What a picture of grief counseling you have shown us.

    • Very beautifully said, Claire. (As usual.) 🙂

  4. Tricia, your boys are so beautiful. This warmed my heart. Their tender, loving, care.

  5. So much beauty…out of so much pain.

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