photo by: elizile

The clover has become my favorite flower.

Not for the leaves of four that bring good luck –

In all my life I’ve never been able to find one

Search though I may.

This small white weed mars our otherwise perfect lawn.

Finally free from dandelions and crabgrass,

It’s the clover that lingers

And attracts the bees

That make me scared to let my children

Roam barefoot in the grass

As every child should.

Their lightly scented flowers are unattractive,

But their beauty is found

When they are brought to me

By a little boy with outstretched arms.

One bloom chosen from among the many

“For you, Mommy,” he says, grinning

And then my heart melts

And that flower is more beautiful than any rose.

So many of these blossoms have been handed to me

Each summer by my darling boys.

And just today, with a heavy heart,

I visited for the first time 

The spot where my baby girls lie.

They have been there together for one month now.

As I sat in the grass weeping and speaking to them,

I looked around through eyes blurred by tears,

And noticed clovers there as well –

These ones touched with palest pink.

It felt like my girls were giving them to me too,

And I felt so lucky.


I wrote this not long after Brigid was buried in 2011, but every summer the clovers make me think of them.  Butterflies, too.  What things make you think of your little winged ones?


Two years

Today makes two years since we lost our little Brigid.  I am surprised at how painful it still is.

I feel very alone in the grief of it because it seems everyone else has moved on.  But I can live that night in the NICU, watching her die, like it just happened yesterday.   All the emotions of it are still right here with me, and I feel like I’d give anything for one more chance to hold her.


Someone shared this beautiful poem on facebook today and I felt like it was exactly what I was feeling.  I asked its author if I might share it here.   Can you relate to these words?

I lost my child today
People came to weep and cry
as I just sat and stared, dry eyed.
They struggled to find words to say
And to try and make the pain go away
I walked the floor in disbelief.
I lost my child today…

I lost my child last month.
Most of the people went away.
some still call and some still stay
I wait to wake up from this dream
This can’t be real, I want to scream
Yet everything is locked inside
God help me, I want to die
I lost my child last month.

I lost my child last year.
Now people who had came, have gone
I sit and struggle all day long
to bear the pain so deep inside.
And now my friends just question.
Why? Why does this mother not move on?
Just sits and sings the same old song.
Good heavens, it has been so long
I lost my child last year.

Time has not moved on for me.
The numbness it has disappeared.
My eyes have now cried many tears.
I see the look upon your face
“You must move on and leave this place ”
Yet I am trapped right here in time,
the songs the same, as is the rhyme.
I lost my child … TODAY….

-by Sophia Kotzamanis

A butterfly

A butterfly lights beside us, like a sunbeam

and for a brief moment, its glory

and beauty belong to our world.

But then it flies on again,

and although we wish it could have stayed,

we are so thankful to have seen it at all.