When your child sleeps for 16 hours do not call them lazy; ask them if they are feeling alright and do not accept that they're "fine".

When your child skips dinner do not just assume it's a diet, sit them down and ask why they are not eating their favorite meal and don't let them convince you that they are not hungry because odds are they're famished.

When you see scratches and burns and bruises and cuts on their body I hope to god you don't look the other way, I hope you hold them tight and tell them how much you love them.

When your child begins skipping classes and asking to stay home do not yell at them, climb in bed with them and ask them what is going on at school.

When your child eats 3 helpings of food and snack after snack after snack I hope you don't think this is normal and I hope you ask your child what is troubling them and I hope you tell them they're beautiful.

When your child pulls away from you and shuts you out and starts destroying themselves I hope to god you don't think it's a "phase" and I hope to god you take on your job as a parent to try and understand and love them, do not tell them to "grow up" because odds are that's the exact problem.

Christmas was your favorite.
You sang Christmas carols,
and gave me kisses
on the tip top of my head
on Christmas morning.
And with the Santa hat
on top of your head
and coffee in your mug,
you told me that
you were thankful for me
and I should've told you
I am grateful for you too.

Written by: David & Sherri Phelps**

She was like the roses in the garden,
a timeless work of art in crimson shade.
But like each bud that opens up to wither,
her perfume ebbs away, her scarlet color fades.

He was like wildflowers in the springtime.
He never cared too much about where he grew,
his time was brief, but filled with vibrant passion.
Then he rode a breeze away,
as wild flowers often do.

And I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.

She was like a daisy in the meadow,
a welcome smile that's shared between two friends.
Kisses hugs and laughter were her petals,
and she have them all away,
until her seasons end.

And I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.

One day I will see, in that garden fair,
those who wait for me over there.

I remember,
I remember,
I remember, cause I still have days
their fragrance drifts to me on Jordan's tide.
So I won't forget,
I won't forget their never gone their just
blooming on the other side.
Blooming on the other side.

I used to sit in my room
and wish that I would not
wake up in the morning.

I used to think about
how nice it would be
to not breathe anymore.

I use to stand at the curb
debating on stepping out
in front of a speeding car.

I used to look to the medicine cabinet
and pour out all the sleeping pills,
and maybe I would take them.

I used to think about death,
until I saw the little girl I love the most,
fight for life and watched it slip away from her.

She helped me understand,
helped me appreciate
what a privilege it is to *breathe

Mama used to cry,
in her bed at 2am,
when her relationship
was falling apart at the seams.

Mama used to reminisce,
how she planned her future to be,
married with her children,
happy as an author.

Mama used tell me,
about how he missed the holidays,
and how he didn't call
the night her brother died.

Mama used to try,
she loved him so she stayed.
But even the strongest people
can only take so much.

Mama used to cry,
up late at 2am;
but now she's fast asleep,
after kissing her Prince Charming goodnight.