Because I have hope that I will be with Dylan again
Because I will not go quietly
Because Dylan lives on through all that I am
Because his voice is now my voice
Rising Up
Because I lost my son to suicide at the precious young age of just-turned 20
Because I have learned to live with a child in heaven (which equates to my being only present here, but there, in heaven with Dylan, finding my heart and true joy)
Because I have had to scrounge and scrape together and assemble, one breath at a time, a means of keeping on keeping on
Because I find I am quite alone in my surroundings on this journey
Because I have had to lay out the trappings of a way of life unstudied, unmapped, quite foreign to most
Because I will not let the world forget my son lived! Dylan Andrew Brown lived and breathed and brought joy, depth, and a richness of life to so many
Because I am not afraid to die
Because I have already experienced the worst day of my life–the day my son took his life
Because I have already met with seemingly impossible circumstances–viewing my beloved son in a casket, burying his ashes at a memorial gardens where so many of my older family members are buried–great-grandparents, grandparents, great aunts and uncles, my own father who died at 61
Rising Up
Because I laid to rest my son with my father in the same grave, sharing the same grave, and because I remember when Dylan was young and my dad adored his grandson
Because I am having to reinvent and invent anew absolutely everything about my life now
Because there are no templates for my way of living
Because in the midst of great darkness, I can only live if I can learn to see
Because I know I will see my son again when God sees fit and it is time
Rising Up
♥ Because I am his mom! I have always and will always love and talk about my son
♥ Because I know my son lives on–just not here on this plane, in this realm, on this earth as I so know it
♥ Because I find him yet still in so many ways ♥ Because I know what it is to endure great suffering and longing and missing Rising Up because I can choose. I know for Dylan that he did not have this choice. I walk the bittersweet. I carry the weight of this life’s journey. And even though mine is a heavy load carrying always her child who died by suicide, I walk proudly and with love knowing Dylan forever etched his soul into mine. I carry on carrying on because in the rising, I carry Dylan too. We are one. Always were. Always will be. And some day, some day we will be together again. Happy birthday little one. Forever 20, but this year, March 19th, 2016, 24 years old on earth. Loving you more than breath–
Loving Him Past His Pain October Shadows A gorgeous fall afternoon, early eveningSun slants wideShadows cast and scatter across a stone wall Walked a bit ago to the cul-de-sac and then down to the field, following the sun, finding the sun shadowing me, feeling the sun trailing behind. Warm still, though only 60 and chilly.…
Instrumental Guitar Music (Written and Performed by Beth Brown, Dylan’s Mom) To those of you that still feel you aren’t even sure you want to be here and you can’t imagine ever being happy again. The pain does change, it softens. You will want to live again and be able to enjoy life again. It…
Beat Still My Heart Beat Still My Heart Beat still my heart Beat still my mind Weary though thou art, Carry his love along with thine Though heavy on thy shoulders Crost fields throughout all time. In the deepest dark of the bleakest night, if light there be, then dark shuts it out. Around you…
“Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep” By Mary Elizabeth Frye I give you this one thought to keep- I am with you still. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow, I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sunglight on ripened grain, I am the gentle autumn…
Here Comes the 25th Most days, I cannot imagine my life without my son. Perhaps this is why starting my day is so difficult. It isn’t always like this, and after two years and almost 11 months, I am sometimes able to greet my day with gratitude and balance, a centeredness that defies my tragic…
Rememberer of dreams. Whisperer of gardens green.
At the whim of "Most Beloved" and a hot cup of tea.
I live life between, straddled here now and then,
My continuity through writing--
Pen dripping ink, mind swirling confused,
Love lingering still, and Most Beloved's purring soothes.
Blogger at "Gardens at Effingham" (where cats do the talking) and "My Forever Son" (where a mother's heart runs deep after losing her son to suicide)
Musician. Writer. Literary Connoisseur.
At the whim of a calico cat and a strong cup of tea.