By Marjorie H. Gore (Margie)

♡ ❦ ♡

The entire month of August had only 0.01 inch of rain, and September was shaping up to be just the same. But on the day Bella was buried, it looked as if the skies were going to cry with us. It was very dark. Clouds were scudding across the sky, and as I watched them, all I could think was, We weep, and the skies weep with us.

Is that a little poetic? Maybe so, but that’s the way I feel about my girl. She was such a sweet baby.

I do realize that when I weep, I weep for me, not for that beauty. She had such a great life, and now she is so much happier. She will never be sick again. She will never have the problems she endured. She gets to be free, and that’s exactly what she would have wanted.

I guess that’s what I wanted for her, too. I just didn’t want to admit it, because I didn’t want to think about losing her and being without her. But I know I’ll see her again. I believe that.

So until then, bye-bye, baby girl.