Morbidly Beautiful Words
My Dr. JoRo wrote this. You can read, more of what she writes here:
We are men and we are women and we are gender-free…
We are Democrat, Republic, Libertarian, Independent, Green, Apolitical, and …
We are rich, and poor, and middle class, and classless.
We are Christian, and Jewish, and Muslim, and Buddhist, and Sikh, and Hindu, and Wiccan, and Atheist, and …
We are employed, and unemployed, and partially employed, and recklessly employed.
We are Irish, and Native American, and African, and French, and Haitian, and Romanian, and British, and Tibetan, and Italian, and Mexican, and Germanic, and Norwegian, and Jamaican, and …
We are high school dropouts, we are college educated, and we are streetwise…
We speak one language or many languages, and we are from all parts of our Planet Earth.
We are young, and middle aged, and old, even facing our own death.
We are from the north, the south, the east, and the west.
We are a family of one, and two, and three, and ten…
We are both traditional and non-traditional families.
We are engineers, and janitors, and doctors, and teachers, and firefighters, and lawyers, and athletes, and marketers, and taxi drivers, and pastors, and rabbis, and elected officials, and administrators, and nurses, and maids, and childcare providers, and artists, and poets, and landscapers and…
We are tall, short, and medium, and emaciated and healthy and round and obese.
We are all around you, everyday. Everywhere you go, we are there, but you may not see us.
We are bereaved parents….
We have suffered life’s worst tragedy. We have suffered a reality you dare not imagine.
Our children have died from birth to toddlerhood. From toddlerhood to young childhood. From young childhood to the teens. From the teens to young adulthood. From young adulthood into middle and late adulthood. Our loss is anachronistic, out of time, out of place. Our children died from cancer, and stillbirth, and fires, and car crashes, and SIDS, and murder, and suicide, and drug overdose, and drowning, and disease, and premature birth, and congenital anomalies and…
Despite all the differences in who we used to be…
Now, we are bereaved parents. And siblings. And grandparents. And aunts, uncles, godparents, friends. And our lives will never, ever, ever be the same. This common thread is woven through our lives, and will remain part of our painful tapestry from generation to generation.
You can help us.
Please visit the front page of the Arizona Republic to learn more about federal legislation for all bereaved parents.
Then, please, support us by signing this petition and emailing your Congress women and men and asking them to sign on to and support this important legislation.
We are bereaved parents. We are one, despite our differences. Our grief unites us.
6 responses to “Morbidly Beautiful Words”
This is so powerful and I am in tears. I will be signing that petition for sure!
I hope to never have to feel the pain of losing one of my children. I signed this petition last week, I think it is so important for a parent to take time off and grieve. I am so sorry for any parent that ever has to go through this. Every child is just so precious, they should all be able to grow up. I will share this on my FB…I hope this passes!
This is a very important petition. Thank you for sharing.
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