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Copyright Missing Maxie. Designed by BestForBlogger
This blog is dedicated to my Maxie. Max was only 9 and a half months when he stopped breathing at daycare. We are devastated by the loss of our most beloved baby boy. Hopefully, this blog will give readers a sense of what a beautiful spirit he was and will help to keep his memory alive.
9 comments
Absolutely speechless. What a beautiful tribute to Maxie! Love you Abs! Lindsay
Radiant. He shines on!
Abby and Teddy
We "your friends" in Fairfield lit a candle for Maxie and sent the pic to Teddyabby@gmail.com With hope you saw it. If not please tell me where I can send it. Maxie's light was with us all day. Love and peace
Kirstin OGorman
Beautiful. The love for Maxie shines bright. xo
So very beautiful. Sending love to Maxie, Mo, Abby and Ted.
Hi Kirstin- you have the right address but I don't think I got it! Can you resend? Thank you so much for lighting a candle for our Max!
Abby
I resent the picture. PLease let me know when it finds it way to you. Our family and friends remember Maxie today and always. Fairfield loves and remembers Maxie.
This tribute to Maxie is a part of our lives now. You have taught so many of us how to be strong even during the most difficult times in life. These candles are for Hope, Love, the represent peace and a bond that will never be broken. God bless beautiful Maxie.
Beautiful tribute for Maxie....his light shines bright. Love to you all...Abby, Ted, Maxie and Mo.
Hi Abby,
Came across this beautiful poem written by a mom who lost her son 5 years ago. Unfortunately I couldn't find here name anywhere to give her credit so I will paste the link at the end. I thought of you and Ted and Maxie when I read it. Thought I would share.
Five years that you've been gone.
Five years of recycled stories and photos.
Five years lamenting the music, laughter and vibrancy missing from our lives.
Five years of shifting the weight of heart-aching loss like a bag of boulders,
from one side to another and back again, trying to find a way to get comfortable.
Five years trying to come to terms with the emptiness in the place that was once filled with you.
Five years of missing you every single day.
Five years of wishing this wasn't our story...searching for a different ending than the one we got.
Our faces are different now without you.
We are each so changed...weaker...stooped...aware of our frailty.
No energy for the superfical, shallow, or stressful.
We each have struggled to find a new way to live on.
We seem both hungry for and wary of happiness
Knowing it can be snatched away in the blink of an eye.
Loss hurts more than we ever knew.
Life is more fragile than we ever imagined.
Life is a house of sorrow and now we know it.
Faith is the anchor of the weary soul and we cling to it.
Our skeptical hearts have journeyed into doubt and nihilism.
Our pat answers have been ripped up like useless scraps in our hands.
Yet we've been opened to a world beyond, an unseen world of beauty and hope.
You have stirred in us a dream for a life to come.
You have pushed us into the deep waters of mystery, where we swim most of the time now--
not well, but these are our refreshing waters.
We go gentle into them. They are unfamiliar, but they are the hope that leads us forward.
Faith is the anchor.
Where are you now?
When you flew away on angels' wings, where did you go?
Where is that place where we feel you still alive?
You are not what the greeting cards say.
You are not the wind in the trees.
You are not the cardinals or the dragonflies or the butterflies that we love.
No. You are more than that.
You speak to us.
We hear your voice.
You meet us in our dreams.
Sometimes the brick wall that separates us becomes a gossamer veil and we are in the same place.
We hear you whispering words of hope and perseverance, comfort and the joy to come.
God is there in that place where time and space fade.
That is our secret miracle, our prayer closet.
That is how we live now.
All will be well. All will be well.
That is what we hear.
Stay close.
That is what we hear.
The light that shines in the darkness leads us.
Grace carries us.
Life is a raw, glorious mess, but
Grace
is
sculpted
in death.
You told us so.
Five years ago.
http://joemaui.blogspot.fr
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