CHRISTMAS TEARDROPS

page 1 of 3







CHRISTMAS TEARS

.....(to the tune of Silver Bells)

Little Angel, busy angels
Dressed in heavenly style
In the air there's
A feeling of sadness.

Children dying,
Parents crying,
Trying hard just to smile,
And at every child's headstone you'll hear:

Christmas tears, Christmas tears
It's Christmas time and we're lonely.
Parents dream, hear them scream:
Please come back home Christmas day.

Angel halos, pretty halos
Blink a bright red and green
As the parents rush home
To their memories.

Hear the moms cry
See the dads try
Not to make a big scene
And above all the bustle you'll hear:

Christmas tears, Christmas tears
It's Christmas time and we're lonely
Parents dream, hear them scream:
Please come back home Christmas day.

© 2006 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001









ANGELS NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
My emotions were stirring, no one to arouse.
The stockings were hung from the chimney with care.
One stocking seemed lonely... my child wasn't there.

I was sleepy and nestled all snug in my bed
While visions of heaven danced in my head.
I dreamt of heavenly gifts he'd unwrap,
As I settled my brains for a heavenly nap.

Since the day that he died my life had been shattered.
There was nothing much left that seemed really to matter.
I dosed off to sleep but awoke to a flash.
"Could this light be my child?" myself I did ask.

Then as I gazed out at the new fallen snow.
"What was that light?" I wanted to know!
When what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a beautiful angle with luminous hair.

This angel was happy so lively and quick.
I knew in a moment my child wasn't sick.
More rapid than eagles his angel friends came
And he softly and tenderly called them by name.

They all stood before me in the snow and the wind
As I heard in the night the sweet message they send.
They want us to know that they heard our sad call
And they're really okay, not to worry at all.

As prayers that are prayed to heaven on high,
When they meet with a teardrop, mount to the sky.
So up to the clouds the angles they flew.
With a message of love for me and for you.

And then in a twinkling, they returned with their love.
They were dancing and prancing right up above.
Then all the angels, they flew to the ground.
One entered of my home without making a sound.

He was dressed all in white from his head to his foot.
And his clothes were all glowing and he carried a book.
Great feathery wings he had on his back.
As he opened his book I sighed and I gasped.

His eyes how they twinkled his smile was so merry.
His cheeks were like roses but I was so weary.
Then he gave me the answers I needed to know.
His fluttering wings were as white as the snow.

As I stood there and watched him I felt a great peace
And a halo encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a sweet face and a wonderful grin
That beamed when he laughed from his ears to his chin.

His hair was so radiant and appeared to be silk.
I cried when I saw him in spite of myself.
The spark in his eyes and the glow 'round his head,
Soon gave me to know that he wasn't so dead.

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work
As he checked off my name in his book... under HURT.
He looked at me gently and smiled as time froze.
He gave me a hug and to the clouds he arose.

He joined his new friends and he gave a soft whistle
And away they all flew like a sudden dismissal.
But I heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight...
"Mom, we're visiting all grieving parents tonight."

© 2002 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,
and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for
that which has been your delight.

~Kahlil Gibran









I WONDER IF

I wonder if you heard it?
Did you listen really well?
It's in every Christmas carol
And in every Christmas bell.

There is a sweet familiar voice.
It's one you'll recognize.
The one you've longed to hear again.
Just concentrate and close your eyes.

I wonder if you smelled it?
Did you inhale really deep?
It's in every Christmas fragrance
And in every Christmas tree.

There is a sweet familiar scent.
It's one you'll recognize.
The one you've longed to breathe again.
Just concentrate and close your eyes.

I wonder if you tasted it?
Did it linger on your lips?
It's in every Christmas candy
And in every Christmas sip.

There is a sweet familiar taste.
It's one you'll recognize.
The one you've longed to kiss again.
Just concentrate and close your eyes.

I wonder if you felt it?
Did it brush you close enough?
It's in every Christmas teardrop
And in every Christmas hug.

There is a sweet familiar touch.
It's one you'll recognize.
The one you've longed to hold again.
Just concentrate and close your eyes.

I wonder if you saw it?
Did you look at it tonight?
It's in every Christmas candle
And in every Christmas light.

There is a sweet familiar face.
It's one you'll recognize.
The one you've longed to see again.
Just concentrate... with opened eyes.

© 2007 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001









WHERE IS CHRISTMAS

Where is Christmas?
Where did it go?
Where is the music?
Where is the snow?

Where is Santa?
Where is the cheer?
Where is the laughter?
Why aren't you here?

© 2003 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










The tears fall,
they're so easy to wipe off onto my sleeve,
but how do I erase the stain from my heart?

~ Unknown










ANOTHER LONELY DECEMBER

Another lonely December,
Waiting for Christmas to pass,
Staring out through the window,
At the cold beyond the glass.

Dreaming of the years gone by,
And things I love to remember,
Knowing this life will always bring,
Another lonely December.

© 2004 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










Let your tears come.
Let them water your soul.

~Eileen Mayhew








THE SILENCE OF CHRISTMAS MORNING

The silence of Christmas morning,
Echoes through my lonely soul.
No laughter or excitement,
Just the sound of growing old.

Growing old without my child,
No more light upon my face.
Oh how I miss Christmas morning,
In this abandoned... silent place.

I have memories of the laughter,
And the whispering joy within,
From noisy Christmas mornings,
But the memories have an end.

My child's life was quietly hushed,
Leaving us without any warning.
This one memory will always bring,
The silence of Christmas morning.

© 2004 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










Invisible tears are the hardest to wipe away.
Just let it out, my friend.

~Adabella Radici









ON THIS LONELY CHRISTMAS NIGHT

The rocking horse is put away.
The tricycle stands alone.
The little winter coats and hats
Have all become un-sewn.

The bicycle is in the shed.
The car is covered with a tarp.
The Christmas tree and ornaments
Are in the corner in the dark.

The games are in the closet.
The cell phone receives no calls.
The patchwork Christmas stocking
Hangs empty on the wall.

The guitar plays no music.
The new clothes are getting old.
The toys are all upon the shelf
With stories left untold.

The sled is covered up with snow.
The skis rest behind the door.
The gloves that used to warm those hands
Will warm those hands no more.

The candle's burning brightly.
The little tree has twinkle lights.
The urn rests there between them both
On this lonely Christmas night.

© 2007 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










What soap is for the body,
tears are for the soul.

~Jewish Proverb










CHRISTMAS EVE

It's Christmas Eve and I'm lonely
Remembering you tonight.
Precious memories make me smile
But this pain within I fight.

I wish I could play Santa Claus
Just one more time for fun.
And watch you open presents
But your life is over and done.

I know you are the one that died
But I also died... someway
And so did every Christmas Eve
And every special holiday.

We have no Christmas tree with lights
And we have no jingle bells.
We only have this loneliness,
Not dead... but a living hell.

I'll still wait for you tonight
To walk tall through that front door,
Bushing the snow off of your coat
And we'll have Christmas Eve once more.

© 2004 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










It is such a secret place,
the land of tears.

~Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince









WE'RE ALL JUST CHRISTMAS PRESENTS

We're all just Christmas presents
Underneath the Christmas tree.
Waiting to be opened.
Waiting finally to be free.

The Christmas tree is heaven
Where unwrapped presents go.
The ornaments are angels
Watching over us below.

The star atop the Christmas tree
Is the one who made it all.
The one who unwraps presents
And gives that final call.

But some are unwrapped way too soon
Their paper ripped and torn.
They leave behind an empty box
While other presents morn.

The presents beg the star above
To fill the box that was unwrapped.
The star reminds the presents....
"The ornaments can not come back."

"Just look above into the tree
And see their brilliant shine.
No more will they be broken.
You'll see them when it's time."

The presents somehow understand....
The ornaments are finally home.
They've earned their place upon the tree.
In the empty box they don't belong.

If not for Christmas ornaments,
If not for the star above.
The presents would have nowhere
To feel the ornaments love.

So we'll remain beneath the tree
Until we're unwrapped by the star.
And leave behind our empty box
To go where our ornaments are.

So when you see a Christmas tree.
Think of all it represents.
Heaven, Angels, God above
And those who wait beneath the branch.

The Christmas tree is heaven
And the presents are those below
And the ornaments are our angels
And the star is the one who knows.

© 2006 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










"Tears are often the telescope
by which men see far into heaven."

-- Henry Ward Beecher










A WALK ON CHRISTMAS DAY

I took a walk on Christmas day
In the cool crisp winter air.
The trees bowed down before me
And they whispered in my ear.

"Walk lightly on the pathway.
Tip-toe quietly as you go.
Remember all the days gone by
Of the life you used to know."

Along the path were Christmas trees
And stars and angel wings,
Toys for little children
But no children could be seen.

Bright red bows and Christmas wreaths
And flowers all around,
Big brass horns and jingle bells
Although they made no sound.

Manger scenes and ornaments
And little twinkle lights,
Santa Clause and reindeer,
That didn't come last night.

Decorations everywhere,
It was Christmas at this place.
All was well until I felt
A teardrop on my face.

I walked lightly on the pathway.
I tip-toed quietly as I prayed.
Then I looked down and saw it...
His name upon his grave.

"It's Christmas", whispered all the trees
To the graveyard names below.
And I remembered days gone by
Of the life I used to know.

© 2007 - Christine Ross
~ In memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001

Published
Winter 2009, Volume 24 No. 4
LIVING WITH LOSS magazine
Bereavement Publications, Inc.










"I love walking in the rain,
'cause then no-one knows I'm crying."

~UNKNOWN










ALONE AT THE WINDOW

She stood alone at the window
Just staring out through the glass.
It was early Christmas morning.
She waiting for time to pass.

The house was quite and lonely.
Everyone else was sound to sleep.
I wondered what she was thinking
As her sad eyes began to weep.

A faint light in the distance
Shone down on the window pane
Casting a soft reflection of her
In the room where I quietly remained.

I stood back in the darkness
Hiding as I was looking on
Wanting to reach out and hold her
To let her know she wasn't alone.

She must have sensed that I was there
Because she slowly turned around.
But just as she did I stepped aside
Not making the slightest sound.

She whispered my name into the night
So I whispered into her ear.....
"Mom, I'm right here by your side,
Your angel is always near."

© 2007 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










TAKE AWAY

Instead of Christmas gifts for me
Come take some things away.
There's so much here that I don't want
So please don't give... just take.

Take away my knowledge
Of funerals, and urns, and graves.
And take away the guilt I have
For not being with him to save.

Take away these inward screams
That resonate his death.
And take away my begging
To give him back his breath.

Take away this heartache
That leaves me living in pain.
And take away all the years
After this sadness came.

Take away this loneliness
That stays throughout the year.
And take away this horror
That just won't disappear.

Take away that empty space
He no longer occupies.
And take away these tears of mine
That forever fill my eyes.

Take away this silence
That reminds me that he's gone.
And take away my wondering
How things could be so wrong.

Take away my questions why?.....
That cause never ending grief.
And take away my doubting
That has shattered my beliefs.

Take away most anything,
Especially his untimely death...
But PLEASE don't take my memories,
They're all that I have left.

© 2006 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










I heard the teardrop hit my pillow
before I even knew I was crying.

~Amborella Oltre










DEAR SANTA

What I want for Christmas
I think I know I'll never get.
But I'm gonna ask you anyway
Because I figure....What the Heck!!!!

Please bring back my son to me.
How about for Christmas Eve?
And let me know within my heart
That he'll never ever leave.

But if you can't for Christmas Eve
How about for Christmas Day?
Have him waiting by the tree
Early morn as I awake.

I know the gifts you usually bring
Are toys, and clothes, and such.
But please bring me this Christmas gift.
This gift I need so very much.

But wait.... before you do that
You will need to ask my son
If he wants to leave behind
His wonderful heavenly home.

He has found a special place
Where he never has to hurt.
The only thing about this place...
It's too far away from earth.

I know you've probably met him
And I'm sure he's doing great
There with all the angels.
There beyond that gate.

So on second thought I ask
Not to bring him home to me.
It's not fair to ease my pain
By taking his eternity.

But can't we go to where he is
And travel far beyond the moon?
I'll hitch a ride upon your sleigh.
I won't take up too much room.

We'll soar the stars and galaxies.
Then soar above the sky.
I wonder if they'll let me in
Even though I didn't die?

Oh gosh,.... another problem!
I can't yet be with my son
Even if you take me there
... my time here isn't done.

All the things I really want
I know I just can't have.
So I'll hold on to the memories
Of his face, his love, his laugh.

What I want for Christmas
Is what I know I'll never get.
But I thought I'd ask you anyway
Because I figured.... What the heck!!

© 2003 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










ALL THE GIFTS I CAN NEVER GIVE

I find myself wandering through the mall.
Christmas past I want to relive.
Tears fall from my eyes as I gaze upon.....
All the gifts I can never give.

Allured by the scent of his favorite cologne.
Beckoned by sounds from a music store.
I needlessly search for that card "To My Son",
Longing for Christmas with him just once more.

There are so many things I would give him...
The warmth of a hug and a smile.
I would give him that one last "I love you".
Then we'd sit and we'd talk for awhile.

I'd give him the strength to overcome death
That found haven in his room.
I would be there when he needed me most.
Perhaps he wouldn't leave so soon.

The gift of time for a long goodbye,
Something I desperately wish I could do.
I would tell him how deeply I miss him,
How his absence makes Christmas so blue.

But the music and hugs can't be given,
Nor time for talks or long good-byes.
For my son has gone, he'll never return.
He dwells with angels up in the sky.

So this year I'll wrap up my memories,
Those of a happier Christmas lived.
I'll place them beneath the Christmas tree with.....
All the gifts I can never give.

© 2001 - Christine Ross
~ in memory of Lucas Christopher Ross 1979 - 2001










Tears are the silent language of grief.

Voltaire (1694-1778) French writer and historian












"VISIT WITH LUKE"

Last Entry in Luke's Journal:

"When there is love in my heart and a smile on my face,
I need nothing else." ~ Luke Ross

"MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU"

Music playing:
Winter Sonata