Father’s Day is here and though it may be hard,

Know your child is resting safely in Jesus’ arms.

Reflect on your memories, be they many or be they few.

Know your child is saying, “Daddy, I love you.”

A father’s love knows no bounds, it goes deeper than the depths of the sea.

It’ll cross over any hurdles to show a child that it believes.

Though your child may have passed on-their spirit is still here,

Always remember that through you, your child’s memory is alive and he or she will always be near.

So when dads are being celebrated, you may shed a few tears and your heart may ache,

But keep in mind that today is still your day.

Because no matter if your child is here with you or if you’re reflecting on the precious moments you had,  

The fact will always remain-that you are still a dad.

-Danielle Nicole Jones

To all of the bereaved dads:

Even though you’re a bereaved father and your child is not here, I would still encourage you to live life as if your child were still here. Still do the things that you would do to make them proud of you and still tell them that you love them. They may be gone—but you are still their father and they are still your child. Happy Father’s Day.
Junior–you will always be my boy.

Written by: Chris Jones

Photo taken from mirandasnyder.thoughts.com via Google Images

My day on this past Monday started out great. I had lunch with a good friend and a new friend who said he wanted to fund raise for the Angel Baby Network. On Monday night, I went to my bi-weekly modeling and acting class—which I truly enjoy attending. And then I came home to a good, home cooked meal that my husband made for us. By all means—Monday was a good day. Until later that night when my husband and I prayed—as we do every night. “And Lord, thank you for blessing us to be parents of an awesome little boy.” I spoke and the tears started to flow.

The Saturday before that Monday, I’d acknowledged the fact that one year prior, all of our family and friends had gathered with us to celebrate our pending baby’s arrival at our baby shower. But I on that Saturday I didn’t dwell on that fact. And on the Sunday leading up to that Monday, my husband and I were babysitting our precious nieces and as I fed them breakfast, helped them brush their teeth and dressed them for church, the thought crossed my mind and my heart, “Why is it that I can take such good care of someone else’s children but I don’t get a chance to take care of my own…” but I didn’t stay stuck in the thought.

But on Monday, when I thanked God for blessing us with our little boy, I cried. And I cried. And I couldn’t stop crying. Monday wasn’t our son’s birthday. It wasn’t his death anniversary date. It was Monday—and yet, I was emotional and sad….even after I’d had a good day. I’ve learned along this journey that sometimes tears come when you expect them to and a lot of times they come when you don’t expect them. And whenever they come, expected or not, it’s OK. On Monday night my husband lie next to me in bed and consoled me the best he could. And on Tuesday, when I got up, I was still sad and the tears were still falling down my face….over Monday. And I went into work, and a few co-workers asked me how I was doing and I was honest with them and told them, “Not good.” And they gave me hugs and pats on the back and let me be “not good over Monday.”

I share this to say-that sometimes grief can catch you off guard at the most unexpected times. And in those times, feel what you need to feel and do what you need to do. Be honest with those around you and give yourself and them permission to let you grieve. You may not always know when those times are going to be but when they do happen—it’s OK to not be OK-even if it’s just over it being Monday.

-Danielle Jones