I can’t remember exactly how old I was when I realized she was there. She used to tell me she always remembered the day she met me, but I was so much younger than she.

When I was little, she always seemed to be there. When that mean little boy who lived on the next block slugged me at school and I ran all the way home crying, she was there. She was there when I had to get my shots and she’d hold me and tell me it was only to hurt for a minute.

When I didn’t feel good, she’d always be there with something good to eat to make me feel better. She was there the night I graduated and I knew she was proud of my accomplishments. She was there when I married. And I’ll always remember the night I had my first child, she was there. When I left to move eight hundred miles from home, she was there to hug me and say good bye.

I was there when he called to tell me the news was not good. I was there when my heart was breaking for her. I felt so bad because I couldn’t make her feel better. We were all there that Christmas. The doctor told us it would be any day now. But even in her pain, as we gave her the gifts we had all purchased, she was there with us despite the morphine that had become a way of life for her.

I was there Christmas morning. So was he. I stood outside the building and began to cry. He put his arms around me and said, “Come on, she’d want you to be with her.” I looked up at him and said, “I can’t. I can’t stand to see her this way.” He pulled me close to him and told me he’d be right there with me.

Each year as Christmas comes around, I remember that Christmas day in 1982. It was one of the hardest Christmas’s I have ever had. And as hard as it was to do it, I was there for her as she had always been for me.

In memory of my mom: Helen Cook 1923-1982 Sharon Bryant 1946@bellsouth.net

About Me:

I am Sharon Bryant. I am almost 58 years old and I reside in Alabama. I’m originally from Michigan but have lived in the south for eleven years now. I have always loved to write since grade school and had hopes years ago of one day writing professionally. I never dreamed I’d write about the things I do today. I lost my child in 1977 when he was five years old and I write articles on bereavement, poetry, and now have a website for bereaved parents and online support to help those who have to walk the road that’ I’ve had to walk.

I am a chocolate/candy maker and have my own chocolate shop in a historic state park. I am also a wood crafter and knitter.

I like to read, play scrabble, cook, work with my scroll saw, paint, and create crafts for my shop. I really love working with chocolate and creating truffles, and all kinds of candy.

I write for 2theheart, Storytime Tapestry, Angels on Earth, Warm Fuzzy Stories, Hugs From the Heart, Illustrator, and my own online support called Whispers of the Heart.

I am married to a wonderful man, and have two remaining children, a daughter 25, Amy, and a second son, Randy, age 22.

My main goal in life is to help those who have lost a child. The road is long and hard, and it is my hopes that through writing, I may be able to help someone who is hurting from this tragedy. My website is: www.angelsremembered.tk Angels Remembered My poetry site is: http://www.angelfire.com/ny5/fromsharonsheart/