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V olume 18, Issue 3Pictures not takenBut clear in my mindOf who you would beIf time could rewindTo a place where you’d beHealthy, strong—almost fiveKeeping up with your sistersMy three girls—all aliveOf course you are with meWherever I goJust not here to touchAnd not here to showPictures Not TakenNo tangible imageNo child by my sideOthers can’t see youOr within me, my pridePictures not takenBut with me so clearWhere you’ve never left usWhere you’re standing right here.I can see you so proudlyDressed up in your bestFor your first day of schoolThe first really big testWritten by Tracy KeinrathIn memory of her daughter, Audrey Hope KeinrathYou’re holding up keysStanding by your first carYour first high school playOf course, you’re the star!That day in churchAs you walk down the aisleYour dad looking nervousYou’re beaming—all smilesSo, those pictures not takenI’ll hold in my heartAnd long for that dayWe’re no longer apartPage 11What am I?I have only one son,And I am grateful to be so lucky.But to others, that one is none.What am I?He has a day of birth.But he did not move, he did not cry.He never had a life on this earth.What am I?Now I have nothing.No dirty diapers, no midnight feedings.But I have the pain the death of a child can bring.What am I?My son did live!For those nine long months inside of me.We learned because he had so much to give .I am a mother!Written by Paige HassmanReprinted from The Compassionate FriendsEvansville, IN Chapter Newsletter, May 2003Kendall’s SonnettIt seems I waited forever for youalmost the reason I was sent here.Blankies, sheets, onesies, all in baby blueStories, snuggles to my heart holding nearEach night before bed, our prayers I sayfor health and wellness of my baby boy.It matters not my exhaustion each daythat feeling overwhelmed by wond’rous joy.But what of this silence? Where’s your heartbeat?I cannot hear it, I cannot see you.There’s dark, there’s silence, no lil boy so sweet.Life’s miracle for me, no longer true.Tears of joy replaced with unending criesHopeless seems Mommy, whose little boy dies.Written by Beth A. MorhardtIn memory of her son, Kendall James Williams MorhardtYou don’t know what I feel.I won’t tellbut the pain is real.Don’t think or actlike you do.you don’t want to knowthis color of blue.I’m now of a familyno one ever wants to be,not once or twicecause I’ve lost three.The pain no more no less.But what has happenedleaves us all a mess.A family of broken hearts,getting our strengthfrom each other smarts.We talk of our babiesfree of will,feelings for themsometimes just spill.Written by Bob BrothersIn memory of his sons Gage & Garrett BrothersSome are strongsome are not,we bond togetherto untie the knot.Not really knowingall the answers,to the questions that plagueus like cancers.