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This memorial is sponsored by:

Dand and Mom

Memorial created 04-5-2007 by
karen hinds
Christina Ann Hinds
June 30 1985 - March 18 2007

Mothers This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here." Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying babies who can't be comforted. This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse. For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T. This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes. This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their refrigerator doors. And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see me, Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it. This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens. This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words. This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat. For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a year. And then read it again. "Just one more time." This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces before they started school. A ND for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead. This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot. This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home -- or even away at college. This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away. This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them. This is for all the step-mothers who raised another woman's child or children, and gave their time, attention, and love... Sometimes totally unappreciated! For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their 14-year-olds dye their hair green. For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers of those who did the shooting. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely. This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war. This is for all the mothers that know the unbearable pain of losing their child... there are no words that can take away your pain. What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 A.M. To put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? Th e panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. When you just want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying? The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation... And mature mothers learning to let go. For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without. This is for you all. For all of us. Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them every day that we love them. And pray. "Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall."

 

I'm Waiting Here In Heaven WE HAD SO LITTLE TIME TO SHARE, TOO SOON, I HAD TO LEAVE. I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU LOVE ME, I KNOW HOW MUCH YOU GRIEVE. I KNOW HOW SHARP YOUR PAIN IS, I FEEL THE ACHING IN YOUR HEART. MY LIFE SO QUICKLY ENDED BEFORE IT BARELY HAD A START. I REMEMBER HOW YOU HELD ME, AND KISSED MY FACE AND HANDS, YOU CUDDLED ME SO GENTLY; BUT GOD HAD OTHER PLANS. I WAS YOUR PERFECT ANGEL, FROM GOD YOU KNEW I CAME, SUDDENLY HE CALLED ME HOME AGAIN, AND NOW GOD HOLDS MY HAND. I KNOW YOU'LL ALWAYS MISS ME, I UNDERSTAND YOUR PAIN IS HARD TO BEAR. JUST REMEMBER THAT IM IN HEAVEN, AND WE'LL SEE EACH OTHER THERE. SO SMILE WHEN YOU THINK OF ME AND WIPE AWAY THOSE TEARS I'M CUDDLED NOW IN HEAVEN BY OUR FAMILY MEMBERS HERE. I'M WAITING HERE IN HEAVEN, AND ON THE DAY WE MEET AGAIN, I'LL BE THE FIRST TO SMILE AND GREET YOU, WHEN GOD CALLS YOU HOME TO HIM.

 

To Mommy From Heaven Mommy, don't cry, 'cause God is holding my hand and telling me everything is OK. Mommy, God said that I will never want for anything and I will still feel your love all the way up here. Mommy, you should see me, I am running and playing with God's other children. Mommy, guess who helps watch over us while we play? They are God's Helping Angels! Mommy, I'm not afraid, my grandpa is here. They came to me when it was dark and held my hands; then we went to God's bright light, where Angels were singing. Mommy, God said, If you feel sad, to remember this; I'll be the gentle breeze that brushes your face, the sun is my smile and the rain is me washing away your pain. Mommy, I have to go now. I send you all my love on the wings of an Angel. Love from christina, to you Mommy.

 

Letter to Mom Mom, please don’t feel guilty It was just my time to go. I see you are still feeling sad, And the tears just seem to flow. We all come to earth for our lifetime, And for some it’s not many years I don’t want you to keep crying You are shedding so many tears. I haven’t really left you Even though it may seem so. I have just gone to my heavenly home, And I’m closer to you than you know. Just believe that when you say my name I’m standing next to you, I know you long to see me, But there’s nothing I can do. But I’ll still send you messages And hope you understand, That when your time comes to “cross over,” I’ll be there to take your hand.

 

A Mothers Pain You see me smiling. What you don't see is that I am screaming behind that smile. You see me go on with everything....work....groceries.....life in general. What you don't see is that it takes every ounce of energy I have just to breathe. You see me alone with my thoughts. What you don't see is me talking to Him and her. You see me say "I am fine". What you don't see is the huge hole in my heart that can never be filled. You see me and think "she's back to normal". What you don't see is that there is no normal for me anymore. You see me and think "Oh my God I hope this never happens to me" What you don't see is that as much as I long for you to understand me... I hope this never happens to you either. You see me joking and laughing with others and think she must be gettin over what has happened. What you don't see is that I can never forget, nor would I want to, you don't get over the loss of a child. You see me sad and don't know what to say so you keep going. What you don't see is all I really want is for you to ask how I am doing, really, and give me a hug. You see that life goes on. What you don't see is on March 18th, 2007 that the life I had will never be the same . You see that I am strong...... do not be deceived. What you don't see is that I am weak and weary. somedays "I am 6 feet from the edge". What you see is a mask....a lie. The mask helps you cope with me and me cope with myself. What you don't see is the raw sometimes unbearable pain. You don't see me being unable to breathe. What you don't see is my despair. You don't see me screaming to heaven for God to give my daughter back. What you don't see you could never understand anyway unless you walk a mile in my shoes.... God Forbid. =

 

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The Cord We are connected, My child and I, by An invisible cord Not seen by the eye. It's not like the cord That connects us 'til birth This cord can't been seen By any on Earth. This cord does it's work Right from the start. It binds us together Attached to my heart. I know that it's there Though no one can see The invisible cord From my child to me. The strength of this cord Is hard to describe. It can't be destroyed It can't be denied. It's stronger than any cord Man could create It withstands the test Can hold any weight. And though you are gone, Though you're not here with me, The cord is still there But no one can see. It pulls at my heart I am bruised... I am sore, But this cord is my lifeline As never before. I am thankful that God Connects us this way A mother and child Death can't take it away! ~ Author Unknown ~

 

june 2 lighting an candle for my angel

Dearest Christina, I love you and miss you so much. It has been almost 3 months since you went to your peaceful new home. It is like someone open my chest and ripped out my heart. There is so many moms that have felt the pain i am feeling, it is just not fair, how do we go on? You are my sunshine in the day and my star in the night but that still is not enough. I am lighting this candle for you today. Love and hugs from Mom

 

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