Tuesday, August 26, 2014
We lost our site to a script attack of some sort a while back with our backups being somewhat corrupt.
We've managed to salvage the content to some degree. Now, it is just a matter of finding the time to put it all back together and post it somewhere.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
From the beginning, when we lost Dominic through late miscarriage in October of 2010, I have always thought of him as our little Saint in heaven.
For some reason, many people refer to babies dying within the womb as angels. I believe this is a misrepresentation of who our child is within the womb. Angels are angels. They are messengers of God. They are not human.
I think Dominic and all babies who die within the womb can be ‘compared’ to an angel because they do send us a message like our heavenly angels do. In other words, they can act like a messenger so to speak.
Since a few months ago, I have been writing in a journal dedicated to Dominic. I write letters to him almost every day.
A couple of weeks ago, our oldest son woke up with a very stiff neck. Right away, I thought it was rather odd. I thought about calling for a doctor’s appointment but instead, I decided to wait and see thinking he may have just slept the wrong way. Later that same day, I took his temperature and he had a high fever.
We realized that there was a need to take him in to get his condition checked. Thankfully, the doctor did not think it was meningitis but requested blood tests just to be on the safe side.
Before going to bed, I wrote to Dominic in my journal. I wrote asking Dominic to ask Jesus to help his brother get better. The next morning Raymond had no fever but his neck was still pretty stiff. Raymond told me that he had a dream. He said Dominic was in his dream and he had fluffy, curly hair. I asked him if Dominic talked to him. He said he did not remember but a little later he said that Dominic told him, “I love you” in his dream.
I thought wow, coincidence? No, I believe this is not a coincidence. Did Dominic really intercede for us? Yes, I believe he did. I told this to a family member who said he has asked for Dominic’s intercession as well and whatever he asked for was granted.
The Catechism of the Catholic Church talks more in detail about the communion of saints and more specifically, the intercession of the saints. In regards to the intercession of the saints, the CCC stated:
Being more closely united to Christ, those who dwell in heaven fix the whole Church more firmly in holiness… They do not cease to intercede with the Father for us, as they proffer the merits which they acquired on earth through the one mediator between God and men, Christ Jesus… So by their fraternal concern is our weakness greatly helped.
Furthermore, the CCC added, “Do not weep, for I shall be more useful to you after my death and I shall help you then more effectively than during my life” (p. 205).
The latter are two very powerful statements. They can truly be consoling to those who are grieving a loss of a loved one.
I am so proud of our little Saint in heaven. We miss him terribly yet what a gift God has given us in his short life here on earth.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Last year, we spent our first Christmas without the baby we lost through miscarriage at almost 18 weeks gestation. Like many around this time of year, instead of being a joyful event, Christmas turns into a burden that we don’t necessarily fully look forward to but instead dread.
Grief overpowered me last year and this year it was still there at a different level. As much as I desired my heart to be more joyful this time of year, my heart just was what it was because someone was missing. People have many different ways of dealing with grief. Some may choose to ignore it or deny it, some may set it aside, some may resort to bitterness and anger, and some choose to deal with it head on. How do you deal with grief?
The neat thing is that even though we may be stuck in grief, it is difficult to ignore the fact that Jesus is now with us as a baby spreading peace all over the world. Mary desires with all her heart for us to touch him and hold him. He is the Saviour of the world. She wants us to draw near to him and weep with joy.
Before Christmas, I was drawn to listen to an old cassette I bought on one of my two trips to Medjugorje. The cassette is called “The Story of a Wounded Womb” by Sister Emmanuel. One of the things that Sister Emmanuel talks about is about a man she met who was in deep distress and hopeless. His life was on the brink of being turned upside down. This man was in Medjugorje, received a tape about a man named Albert who made a deal with Our Lady. The deal was he would give all of his burdens to Our Lady and in return he would pray for Our Lady’s intentions.
He met Sister Emmanuel and told her about all of his hardships. He said he was going to give Our Lady all of his problems. The next day, he was looking for Sister Emmanuel to talk to her before leaving. He was weeping for joy because he prayed for hours for Our Lady’s intentions with his heart. He told Sister Emmanuel that he received a telegram saying he got his job back after being fired. His wife did not want a divorce anymore and his health was not so serious as to require surgery.
What would happen if we all gave Our Lady our burdens? In exchange, what if we prayed for all of Our Lady’s intentions? Perhaps we can start with, “Mary, I give my burdens to you and I will offer up this rosary for your intentions…” Amen.
Merry Christmas everyone!
May God richly bless you and give you the graces you need to deal with all of your burdens.
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
I wrote this in July of this year but I am posting it now with a few changes:
I last posted on this subject in January so it has been a while. A lot of growing has been happening since then and the pain in my heart has softened some from being rock hard so there is some improvement. I am smiling more and actually laughing sometimes. I am really learning more and more to be more present to my children and husband. Catherine Doherty liked to call it the duty of the moment. For me, sometimes the duty of the moment means soaking in what my children are saying and really listen to what they are saying for example. It is so easy as parents to sometimes say, “Uh huh, uh huh”, when we seem to hear some things over and over.
Another big area I am growing in since our losing our tiny baby Dominic at 17 weeks is trust in God and in the people around me. Ironically, as I was reading an excerpt from my journal, in July of 2010, I wrote something that my husband John had told me. He told me that in order for me to go in the next room of my spiritual growth, I need to take a leap of faith. I need to let go of all the things that cling or stick to me re: wounds from the past. He further said that the next room for me involves abandoning myself to him and to God thus letting myself fall back, wait and trust that someone will catch me on the other side.
I elaborated and wrote that it is much easier for me or anyone to act or operate according to what my wounds are saying rather than facing my fears of a wound being touched and then to embrace the suffering if it comes.
John then suggested meditating on the gospel of John when Jesus was arrested. In this gospel, Jesus makes it clear to the soldier’s that He is going by His own will to suffer for our sins. He had total trust.
This Gospel reading also reminds me of the total trust and obedience of Abraham when asked to sacrifice his only Son. The story of Abraham is the perfect pre re-enactment of the future death of Jesus but without the death of Abraham’s son Isaac. For Abraham it was the ultimate test of which he passed with flying colors. He loved and total trust in God. Are we able and willing to trust God to this extreme?
The Divine Mercy Chaplet has been a daily practice for us since losing Dominic. I wrote how this came about in a previous post. “Jesus, I trust in You!” is what it says below the Divine Mercy Image. I believe the more we say this prayer, the more Jesus is teaching us about trust and His Infinite Mercy.
Lord, Have Mercy on Us! Help us and teach us how to trust in you completely.
Sunday, May 08, 2011
St. Monica prayed and waited for the conversion of her son, St. Augustine, for _decades_. We look to her for perseverance in prayer no matter the cost.
When a deep conversion and eventual release of the heart takes place in one that we love it can be very tempting to want to draw this new experience of the other’s heart out as much as possible and as soon as possible.
However, just as it is when one has not eaten for a very long time and we must patiently eat very small portions, we must be patient and tender with our beloved and wait at their side during the process of the heart’s opening.
If we rush things we can end up causing our beloved’s heart to close back up and withdraw. Or, we may get lost in our selfish desire to open that heart up all the quicker.
Where is this coming from? Well, we all know that to a lessor or greater extent we all have our history of being hurt with the possibility of developing some very elaborate defenses and coping mechanisms depending on how extreme things were.
One of the most difficult things for those of us that have been deeply wounded in the past after getting married and living with that one person day after day is to let go and totally trust our spouse.
To let go so thoroughly that the heart is completely revealed to the other . . . nothing is held back. The ultimate in vulnerability.
Now, given that our spouse probably has their own history to deal with, again with protection mechanisms and coping mechanisms, it becomes all the harder to open up our heart to the other and be _totally_ vulnerable with them.
I mean, how could we since we sense that there is something within their own heart that they are holding back?
Yet our Lord makes it so clear through St. Paul in Ephesians 5 that we as men are called to do just that _over and over and over and over again_!
We are called to make continual sacrifices on behalf of our wife and child(ren). We are called to forgo our own pains, struggles, and selfish hurts to be totally vulnerable _to them_.
If we lose sight of our calling to be completely open and sacrificing our lives for our wife then we miss the opportunity to make an offer of love for her healing.
Day after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year . . . just as St. Monica made continual sacrifice and prayer for her son we offer our sacrifices to the Lord through Our Lady for our wife.
In the end, after all of that, the Lord may pleasantly surprise both of us with an amazing gift of healing that produces an openness of the heart that is gift beyond all imagination.
Indeed, there is Resurrection after the Passion and Death on the Cross!
Friday, April 15, 2011
The following poem was another piece of writing that I was inspired to write last June/2010. It was inspired in part by an excerpt of a talk by a priest named Father Larry Richards. Here it is:
I’ve come to set you free,
Come confess with me.
I’ve come to set you free,
Come adore me.
Let me cover your sins, your wounds with My Most Precious Blood.
Let me deliver you from this flood.
Walk on the water,
Come follow me.
I will guide you,
To the place
I want you to be.
Let me lead your heart.
Let us not break apart.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
The following words came to me in June/2010. I finally decided to stop procrastinating and post these words that were inspired while listening to an instrumental piece of music from the “Fireproof” soundtrack. Here it is:
Come Holy Spirit,
Rain down on me
With all your might,
With all your strength,
Pour forth into the most deepest depths of my wounds.
Purify me oh Lord,
Cleanse me from my sin.
Mother Mary carry my wounds
Gently to your Son.
“Pour forth, we beseech thee, O Lord,
Thy grace into our hearts,
That we, to whom the Incarnation of Christ, Thy Son,
Was made known by the message of an angel,
May by His passion and cross be brought to the glory of His resurrection,
Through the same Christ Our Lord.” (Taken from the Angelus prayer)
Fill me with your most precious blood
Let it flow,
Let it flow,
Let your redemption grow.
Together, we will bring my wounds
To your most Holy Cross.
Let my suffering be united to yours
For my salvation and for the worlds.
Let my suffering not be Your loss.
Monday, January 03, 2011
There was definitely something off this Christmas.
Neither Lucille or I had any idea how things would happen on the day of Christ’s Birth. On several occasions she mentioned that her heart was not really into it while mine was somewhere between numb and seemingly absent.
We managed to celebrate Christmas but things were pretty subdued. We did enjoy the kid’s reactions to their gifts and our own but indeed something, no _someone_, was missing in the midst of it all.
We know that Dominic is with the Lord and through the Communion of the Saints that he is with us too, but we missed being able to “touch” him while here in Lucille’s womb. We missed his presence deeply.
Dominic’s absence this Christmas was very much a parallel to God’s apparent absence of late. It is time for me, it seems, to hang on the Cross with Our Lord and share in His “My God, my God why have you forsaken me!?!” moment (Matthew 27:45).
Yet, somewhere in the midst of this numb heart is a hope that the Lord is indeed holding our little one close to His Heart, but at times it sure can be difficult to find that hope.
Our Lady of Sorrows pray for us.
Thursday, December 16, 2010
I honestly cannot describe the feelings I am having this Advent. I’ve had visions of just going away at Christmas and escaping all the hustle and bustle. I have never not looked forward to Christmas. I grew up in a happy Catholic family when Christmas was peaceful and always a blessing.
When John and I were married, I carried that same joy and openness of heart with John and our kids. John did not share these same happy experiences around the Christmas season so approaching Christmas with John has sometimes been marked with struggle because of John’s past. Now, I can certainly understand a lot better how Christmas can be a real burden for some people.
So, how do we open our hearts and prepare ourselves for Our Saviour in the manger? How do we open our hearts to feel joy and peace instead of numbness, sadness, and a feeling of wanting to escape the festivities?
Recently we watched a movie called Call me Mrs. Miracle. It was a really wholesome movie that centers around a father and son as well as a little boy from a different family whose mother had died. I won’t go too much into detail in case the opportunity arises to watch the movie but essentially the father (owner of a successful department store) ends up finally celebrating Christmas with his son after 20 years of escaping Christmas by flying to another location. The father was finally convinced his wife (who died 20 years previous) would want him to celebrate Christmas in her honour.
It is a big hurdle to say, “Hey, I can celebrate Christmas and not feel guilty for being joyful when we’ve suffered such a loss of someone we love dearly.” Perhaps the answer is found in the gift of Jesus born on Christmas day. We still need to do our best to prepare our heart this Advent by going to confession, adoration, Mass, daily prayer of the rosary (even if just a decade) . . . And then, we need to wait.
We need to wait patiently and prepare for the PROMISED SAVIOUR as did the descendants of Abraham right through to St. John the Baptist. Jesus will speak to us and he will answer our prayers, embrace our sorrows, and take them to God our Father as an offering of love for the world.
We homeschool our children and one thing that Jesus is teaching me along side my daughter in grade 1 is explained in our religion curriculum (Faith and Life Series) which includes “the three things necessary to attain happiness in Heaven: to know God, love God and serve God” …
From the curriculum (Teacher’s Manual page 42):
a. Know God : To pay attention and study hard in religion class, to read the scriptures, to listen well to the readings and homilies at Mass
b. Love God: To receive the Sacraments of Penance (Confession) and Holy Communion when old enough, to pray reverently at home, in the classroom, and at Mass, or during a visit to the Blessed Sacrament
c. Serve God: To be obedient to parents and teachers, to be helpful both at home and at school, to share toys, to be kind to others.”
Now, during this Advent season which finds my heart filled with more pain than with joy, one of my prayers is: “Jesus, help me to know, love and serve you better”.
Friday, December 10, 2010
A few weeks ago, I fell upon this very interesting book at our local chapel. The book is called Return of the Children by: John Regan. This book is a very easy read. I honestly could not put it down. I read almost half of it in one time stretch. After three visits to the Blessed Sacrament, I had finished reading it. It truly did captivate me and it really brings to light the awesome gift of love and forgiveness of God.
Sunday is the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.
Our Lady of Guadalupe, PRAY FOR US!
Monday, December 06, 2010
About 1 week prior to the miscarriage, a lady from church gave a picture of Jesus in the Divine Mercy to hang on our wall. Apparently someone was trying to give it to someone else but she was not Catholic so it was given to us. I was perplexed to say the least. Why is this stranger giving me this picture while I am praying in the Blessed Sacrament chapel? Now I think, perhaps it is a sign for me to learn more about the Divine Mercy. Perhaps it is a call to Trust in His Divine Mercy at a greater level.
The first few weeks after the miscarriage definitely tested my ability to reach out. John mentioned how painful it can be to reach out (previous blog post). When we are going through any trial that causes suffering, reaching out can mean the difference between sinking or staying above water.
Yet, I somehow worked up the courage to reach out to other people who had gone through a late miscarriage or knew of someone who had. It was painful and unnatural for me to reach out, but I had to admit to myself that I could not keep floating above water on my own. I needed other peoples hands to help keep me above water. I needed to talk about my struggles to others who truly cared and understood my pain. I can be very independent so having to almost admit my defeat, my powerlessness over the miscarriage and its effects took one of the biggest leaps of faith I have ever had to take.
“Many parents have feelings of losing control when they express the normal feelings and emotions of grief: they may feel like they are “going crazy” because of the thoughts that plague them about their baby” (Maternal Child Nursing Care, 1998, p. 555).
Almost 2 weeks after the miscarriage, I was in the midst of a very long anxiety attack. I felt like I was below water sinking like I have never sunk before. All John could do was hold me, listen to me, and tell me to look at the picture we have by our bed of Peter reaching out to Jesus walking on the water after he realized that he himself was walking on the water (Matthew 14, 22-33). The more I thought about the picture, the more I realized that just thinking about the picture was not helping. Little did I realize that somehow I needed to make an act of the will. But how?
As I kept breathing in and out, my anxiety did not improve. In my helplessness, I finally told John that I needed extra help and asked John to call our local Health Care Access number. The nurse on the line talked to me and finally directed me to someone who was trained to talk me out of my anxiety attack. Later, the anxiety subsided . . . but slowly. I needed to trust. I needed to trust in myself and in Jesus. I needed to keep affirming myself with these different statements: “I’ll be ok, I am going to make it through, this is normal”.
Reaching out to others is one thing but reaching out to my husband and my children was the most important thing for me to do. Our children can only do so much since they are so young but simply telling them that I was sad and asking them to pray for me was a form of reaching out.
Reaching out to my husband was not as difficult as it normally might have been perhaps if the miscarriage would have happened earlier in our marriage. Through our eight years of marriage, we have grown to predict quite well our different patterns of behaviour, turning inward for example, if there was a problem. Because of the growth in our marriage, I was able to make a conscious decision that I was going to show my vulnerability and keep my heart open to John. I would do my best to be as open as possible in the sorrow, struggles, and pain resulting from the miscarriage.
John’s strong presence and strength were a big reason why I stayed afloat for the last month or so. He was particularly present during the first few weeks after we lost Dominic. I tried my best to work up the courage to talk very openly about my thoughts, and to allow myself to cry whenever I needed to cry. For me, these acts were all important in the the beginning of the healing process since my greatest temptation was to crawl into a cocoon and feel sorry for myself.
Sunday, December 05, 2010
Really, there is nothing more that can be done other than reaching out . . . as painful as that can be.
Yes, even during those times when the depression is so intense, there is nothing more in my vision than dark clouds, emptiness of heart, and absolutely no energy. When this happens, even smiling, playing around with the kids, or trying to spend time opening up to Lucille are key to breaking the hold the depression has.
There are only two ways that things can go when we experience something so traumatic as the loss of a child.
The first, and hopefully the path chosen, is to work as hard as possible to be supportive of each other. We, Lucille and I, did that by making sure that despite our own pain and suffering that we remained present to one another.
In the first weeks after the loss of Dominic my responsibility was to support Lucille as best as I could. That meant that to some extent my own grieving was put on hold. But, it was absolutely imperative for my grieving to be held back as Lucille really needed me.
During the initial weeks there were opportunities for us to cry together though I still held onto much of my grief to make sure that I was attentive to Lucille’s needs.
As things progressed we found that our relationship was growing stronger in a way that we had never expected. We kept working at supporting each other, being present to each other, and watching out for each other and still do to this day.
Despite the circumstances, our relationship has indeed grown closer together.
The other way things can go is for our relationship to fracture. There were times when I totally withdrew from Lucille, held back, did not allow her in, and walled up my heart from everything and everyone.
If I continued down that road there could have been a very distinct possibility that our relationship would have broken up and I would have been the primary reason for it.
In fact there were times when I was so buried in my grief that my fight or flight reflex was on the verge of flight mode. I _wanted_ to run away.
Prayer provided no consolation with my heart feeling like a hardened rock in my chest. Being around anyone was painful.
Once we buried Dominic I found that I could let go but it still took a while for me to open up to Lucille. Listening to music (previous blog post) really helped with the opening up process as has spending time adoring Jesus exposed at a local Archdiocesan adoration chapel . . . though my heart still feels like a lump of concrete.
Together we faced an amazing test of our relationship, our love for each other, our communication skills, and most especially our faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.
Lucille and I made a tangible decision to be present to each other and to support each other. We also had the force of our wills following through on that decision plus we had the momentum of the Sacramental Grace of Marriage behind us too.
On top of that, Dominic has been very present to us in so many different ways since the beginning of the pregnancy. His prayer is indeed powerful and the graces his prayer brings about are only now starting to be revealed.
So, once we are further down the road of healing we will be able to look back prayerfully and see the many graces and blessings that we have shared in.
Hopefully we have indeed passed “The Test” and this portion of our lives written in the Lamb’s Book of Life (Rev. 20:12) will stand up to scrutiny.
Our Lady of Sorrows pray for us.
Saint Dominic pray for us.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
It has been a very long time since I have posted. I had been working on an article for the website on suffering. Ironically, the article included a story about a mom we met who lost her teenage child over a year ago. Now, I am writing this post to relate a similar story but this time, I am the mother who has lost a child, our beautiful 17 1/2 week old who died within the womb. This is our story:
Not long before, October 26, 2010 our miniature white rose plant in the kitchen bloomed one single beautiful miniature white rose, the tallest stem on the plant. On October 26, 2010 our lives changed.
Early in the wee hours of the morning, we suddenly miscarried our little 17 week old baby. Before the paramedics came, I kept thinking, “No!… No!…. Lord, You can’t take my baby! I can’t believe this is happening. My water is not suppose to break now!”
The positive result on an old amniotic fluid stick from our second pregnancy confirmed that I was truly in labour. I did not want to let go of the baby but my worst fears were about to come true as I stood up to lie on the stretcher.
I did not want to get off the bed. I wanted to stay there. Once I stood up, our little baby came out. I yelled to John who was in the next room, “The baby came out!”. I will never forget the numbness at looking at our child still attached to me lying on the stretcher with all the fingers and toes the size of a Barbie’s fingers and toes.
Earlier that morning, I remember tapping on John’s head, saying, “Something is wrong, something is coming out. John immediately knew he needed to get some Holy water to baptize our baby just in case. And this is what he did as soon as he got back in the room.
From then on, it felt as if everything was in slow motion. We arranged for someone to come look after the kids. The ambulance brought John and I to the hospital, and the emergency room was actually unusually quiet. They hooked me up on IV’s. The emergency doctor finally came to examine me.
Eventually, he asked John if he wanted to cut the umbilical cord, so he did. I had a closer look at our baby but I was still so in shock, it was difficult to savour the moment as I looked at him in the kidney basin the doctor had put him in.
I now regret not picking up that kidney basin and just holding him. Since the placenta had not come out yet, I was still haemorrhaging … a lot. My obstetrician was actually on call that morning performing a C-section up in the OR. That was a miracle in itself since my doctor is on hospital rounds only once a week.
One nurse was kind enough to ask if we would like a chaplain to come in. We agreed and they were a great support with their prayers, presence, and resource information. The chaplain also got our parish priest to come and give communion. We were very thankful for that.
Finally, my obstetrician arrived about 5 or 6 hours after our arrival at the hospital. Prior to that, the nurse prepared me for a possible blood transfusion since my blood pressure became quite low. I was so relieved to see my doctor. She knew exactly what to do to help me expel the placenta.
Later in the day, the ultrasound showed no tissue in the uterus so we were able to go home without having to go to OR for a D&C and no need for a blood transfusion. Praise be to God. Our prayers were answered in that regard. My only real regret though was that I wished I would have asked to hold our baby before we left the hospital. With everything that happened, and being so tired I didn’t even think of it.
When we turned the corner to leave the hospital, my heavy empty heart sank. The reality that we were leaving our baby behind in the hospital really set in. I couldn’t stop sobbing. The reality of our baby being out of my body so early set in even more.
Once we finally got home, the reality of having to tell the kids what happened pierced my heart. As my husband and I drove in the driveway, I got out of the truck, numb, shocked, and pale. I just stood there looking at my kids looking at me through the front door window and our middle child playing in the snow outside.
I slowly walked up to the garage door weeping before entering. As I got the courage to open the door, there sat John’s Dad on the couch looking at me intently with loving eyes. After spending a little time with the kids, I needed to find a name for the baby. I started to look up the names of the Saints that day on the computer. John and I later decided on Dominic or Dominique since we were not totally sure of the gender of the baby at that point.
After over 2 weeks of waiting (Dominic(que) needed to be sent to pathology for examination), once all the arrangements were finalized, we finally had a little private Mass offered in the basement of our house, then off we went to the cemetery where the Knights of Columbus had a special location to bury miscarried babies. We were so thankful for that. We feel at peace to know that we have a special place for our baby and a place to go if we ever feel the need to be with Dominic(que) at the cemetery.
When all is said and done, after looking at our baby while at the hospital John and I could tell that we had a boy even though pathology said the gender was undetermined. The Knights of Columbus will engrave the name of our baby, “Dominic Jacob Everett”.
Dominic, I know you rest in peace in perfect happiness forever in heaven till we meet again, my precious child.
My husband encouraged me to write and now I want to write more reflections on the spiritual, psychological, and physical aspects of miscarriage.
A few days ago, I cut down our miniature white rose from the plant as it was starting to dry up after over a month of being in bloom. I truly believe this was a gift for us from heaven as we grieved the loss of our beloved baby Dominic.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
A couple of months ago, Lucille and I caught the first hour or so of the movie Titanic on TV. Lucille has seen it a few times while I have not seen it yet.
There is something about Celine Dion’s song My Heart Will Go On which is associated with Titanic that has totally hooked into my heart while grieving the loss of Dominic.
Every time, and I mean _every time_ I hear the song I break into tears.
There are some timeless truths about love spoken in the song.
Despite the shortness of Dominic’s life within the womb my heart and his are bound as a father’s and a son’s hearts should be.
The love that I have for my son Dominic is no different than the love that I have for our children here with us in this life.
It is near the end of the song (~3:40 Min) where the reality of our love breaks through the pain and suffering of losing him:
You’re here, there’s nothing I fear
And I know that my heart will go on
We'll stay forever this way
You are safe in my heart
And my heart will go on and on
We will _stay forever this way_ as father and son. I trust that Dominic stands before the Throne of God appealing to Him on our behalf.
And, indeed he is safe here in my heart as is Lucille and our children.
Our Lady of Sorrows pray for us.