In July of 2005, an old, old friend put her pen to paper and documented the funeral of our precious baby Garrison, who was born dead on July 13th from a cord accident. She put the resulting poem in one of the local papers so we would see it there, dedicated to us. I thought I should post it now, since this week marks the second year to have passed since the worst day of my life. My husband planted a tree just before the service that would, in a sense, grow and live in his name -- a lovely magnolia in a beautiful place on the hillside behind my family home. It marks his grave. Thus the title: "Garrison's Tree."
I'm going to turn off the comments feature, because I don't want to burden you with having to think up a response to such a sad thing. But thank you for sharing this annual time of reflection with me. When I read this poem, it is as though I'm looking at a video of the event. And I haven't ever been able to hear Amazing Grace again without thinking of that time up on the grassy knoll.