On February 2, my family and I remembered our son Zachariah who was stillborn thirteen years ago. The notes, flowers, and words of comfort we continue to receive from friends and family are precious. Thank you. When people are reminded of how long it has been, often they say, “Oh, he would have been a teenager.” Painful words of what is not to be. It is hard to grasp his absence, so I try to find comfort in holding his presence. Words failed me more often than not this weekend. In his memory, I dedicate this poem.
Thirteen YearsFresh snow covers the earth Swallowing roads in white. No need waiting till a path clears My heart knows the way after thirteen years. Finding a grave covered in snow With every step, new footprints show. Falling to my knees Breathing tender cold, Empty arms extending With only a flower to hold. Tenderly brushing until his name shows. Kissing petals of a yellow rose. Gently quiet Falls the snow, Peaceful and still, Before it’s time to go. Turning to leave, a look back “Will my tracks help others,” I pause to wonder, “When lives are torn asunder?” Fresh grief covers the earth. New tracks will appear. Your imprints on my heart Will never disappear. “I see your footprints, little one.” Whispering through tears, “My heart knows your way after thirteen years.” Nancy Berns Zachariah’s Mom