Guest Author - Sunniej Jackson/Bobbie Sheranko

I received this request from one of our readers that requested that we share her story with all of our readers.

"I want to add my link to your loss of an older children section of your Child Loss at Bella Online. www.lossofachild.org I also want to submit this story for you to post on your site"

Bobbie Sheranko
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I think this is a very touching story and am graciously sharing with all of you.

Please feel free to submit your stories, resources, poems to share with each other. Remember we are all in this together!

I look forward to hearing from you.

Sunniej


The Roses In Winter

Her entrance into this world was not only difficult but early. She beat all the odds laid against her like a long shot in a stakes race. From the moment Juliet arrived she was our angel child, our princess, our family's treasure. Her hazel eyes were sometimes dark pools of thoughtfulness but most often they were filled with the laughter and mischief of childhood. As soon as she could walk she began leaping and dancing as if she was as light as a feather. She was like a lovely golden leaf on the wind.

Our time together was often interrupted and marred by the anger and cruelty of her father, yet our love for each other endured and grew. In the most tragic and hurtful of times her sweetness gave me comfort and joy. She was so like me and so different. She was the best of what I was and so much more. Juliet was all I wished I could be. She was to me a great work of art, one of God's loveliest creations.

One spring day Mother Nature took my precious daughter from me. I turned 47 the day I lost her. She was only 15 and just entering the early bloom of womanhood. She was as lovely as her favorite flower, the rose.

As Juliet helped a close friend celebrate the leap from childhood to adulthood, his graduation from high school, a tornado appeared on the horizon. She breathed her last breath in a ditch on the side of an Iowa highway. A half a mile wide class three tornado picked up a 3-ton soybean head and combine, from the field by the highway as if they were toys. The wind wrapped the combine around a tree. The soybean head fell and rested in the ditch, crushing my daughter.

My heart, at that moment, suffered a chasm so deep I think it will never heal. My beautiful angel child was gone from me forever. I was never to hold her close to my heart again. Those who loved her so much would never hear her laughter ring out, filling all around her with joy. I would never again see her leap and dance like a golden leaf upon the wind. Forever she would sleep, her voice silenced.

Months passed. I grieved quietly, crying alone. Loud and angry outbursts were not appropriate for me. In time, I found others on the internet who knew this relentless grief for they too had lost a child. I could share things with them because they knew the terrible pain of loss. Though I could not talk with my new friends face to face our cyber world friendship became a lifeline for me.

There were dates on the calendar that were important but could no longer be shared with Juliet. Those days were cold and harsh. As what would have been her 16th birthday loomed before me, an aching vice gripped my heart and soul. I was certain I would not survive that day.

It had been a mild winter, even for Houston. On the 17th day of January 2000 the day was sunny and warm. From the moment I opened my eyes, the fact my lovely daughter was not here to share this milestone of sixteen candles upon her cake tore at my heart. the pain of her loss flowed through my veins and seared my soul.

I tried to go through the daily routine with my new and beloved husband. We drove much of the day, attending one errand after another, while pain screamed in my heart. I went through the motions lost and alone in my sorrow. My heart felt as heavy as an anvil. Tears fell silently down my cheeks. Memories of Juliet's face flowed before my tear stained eyes. Everything reminded me of Juliet. I could not escape the sorrow.

Our errands finished, we returned home. As we pulled into our driveway I saw something miraculous in front of my house. A tired rosebush, that had produced few flowers the year before, was now in full bloom. There were delicate tea roses in every possible hue of pink and peach dancing on the slender delicate stems.

For weeks I looked for another rosebush in bloom, but never saw another. I know the roses that bloomed at my house were a message from my daughter. She wanted me to know she was happy and blooming just as wonderfully in the next life as she had in her life with me.

I still shed tears and feel the searing pain of her loss. Yet, I find comfort whenever I remember her smile, her laugh, her beauty, her talent and her last precious gift to me…the roses in winter.


Bobbie Sheranko
©2000