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Forum Home - Go Back > General > Memorials My Issa My Issa

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Old 12-08-2015, 01:18 PM   #1
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My Issa

Little Poppit, walking running talking
You were a joy to all of us who got to spend time with you.The faces you made, the laughter that erupted. Your dinner time with the family, spilling food from your tray. Your infectious smiles, and calling me Aunt.

Your little tan legs, never still for a moment. Always getting into trouble and then right out of it again with that giggle and those large brown eyes.

Little Poppit, walking running talking
Calling for your grandpa, fighting with your brother, making your older sister cry. The only time you were silent was when you slept. In your mothers arms.Next to your aunt, next to your sister, next to your brother. How you were like your mother, strong, defiant, with that infectious smile.

Little Poppit, so quiet now. So quiet.
When you left us, it was so sudden. So shocking, so turbulent, static, so much grief, so many tears, from everyone. Rushing, rushing, rushing, to the hospital, to hear the machines, to see the tubes, to see you laying there. Your form so still and quiet. So silent.

The silence from you, that's what hurt. To not see you open your eyes and smile at us. To hold you one last time, to feel the breath leave my body, to hear my sisters wail and to see the tears fall. I held you so tight and you did not protest. I begged you to come back, to stay, I asked God, please, I asked him why.

My mind does not function right. My mind keeps seeing you in the sun, picking weeds, swirling in circles, holding my hand, your curls, your big brown eyes, your little poppit nose, handing me weeds and asking for your Poppa Bo.

Little Poppit, resting, resting.
We made it thru the mourning period. The wake, the funeral, the burial, the dinner. And home again. To that too quiet house, to listen to your brother and sister say, don't touch that, that's Issa's, I miss her, I miss her too sissy. Silent tears fall, from all of us.

I prefer to go home and stare at my own walls, and cry a few silent tears and remember one memory of you at a time. My boyfriend doesn't understand. The world keeps turning. We keep moving forward.

All I can say is, there are not enough memories of you.

12/3/2013 - 11/19/2015
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Old 12-09-2015, 01:27 AM   #2
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Unhappy Healing hands

Do what must be Don acording to your tribe's traditions. But remember this. When in the wind you hear that giggle or see the colors she liked remember that she is looking down on you. At cristmas light a candle in her name with her name inscribed on it. Im doing that tomorrow and Christmas day and new years eve and day for my dad. As th i s marks on the thirtyfirst the d a y my dad passed.
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Old 12-09-2015, 01:44 AM   #3
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Angry Some times

Some times life is short dome times life is long and tiering.some times we ask why me? The only thing sister that I can tell you is is that God or greater had his reasions it is not for us to know his reasions but only know that your little one is not gone she is out of her body.in physical form but her spirit is not. She will be with you all ways. Look on to butterflies that is what I do when I see my dad. I know he is with me when I see them.people think I'm delusional but I talk to my dad all the time,.when I'm sad he knows I may not see him but I feel his spirit and he tells me its ok. Some times you need to be sensitive to feel spierits.
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Old 12-09-2015, 08:14 PM   #4
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She was beautiful yanno? She was so like her mother. Strong willed, stubborn, funny, she was starting to talk. She loved corn soup. She didn't like Godzilla, her Poppa Bo's dog. She was doted upon by the whole family. She was the youngest grandchild of my sisters. She was just now learning to call me grandma, when she had been calling me Aunt.

The family celebrated her birthday on December 3rd. She would have been 2. It was just a family dinner with cake and ice cream. Then the family went out to where she was buried at Concho and released a stream of balloons for her.

Her mother Dawnie, is my niece, I helped raise her when her mother was not able to. I got to see my beautiful girl grow up and become a mother. She was scared. But she did quite well, I thought.
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Old 12-10-2015, 04:46 AM   #5
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Unhappy I lit a candle

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Originally Posted by C&HBrownsugar View Post
She was beautiful yanno? She was so like her mother. Strong willed, stubborn, funny, she was starting to talk. She loved corn soup. She didn't like Godzilla, her Poppa Bo's dog. She was doted upon by the whole family. She was the youngest grandchild of my sisters. She was just now learning to call me grandma, when she had been calling me Aunt.

The family celebrated her birthday on December 3rd. She would have been 2. It was just a family dinner with cake and ice cream. Then the family went out to where she was buried at Concho and released a stream of balloons for her.

Her mother Dawnie, is my niece, I helped raise her when her mother was not able to. I got to see my beautiful girl grow up and become a mother. She was scared. But she did quite well, I thought.
yesterday I went to our local cathlic church and lit candies for my dad and issa she would have been happy. The staff was decerating the alter when I was there.so it was not as quiet and intamet as I wanted it to be.but I had felt that my intenchions were good. Its just not the same with out my dad. I'm not as excited about Christmas or other important things like I was. And I seem to be more depressed around Christmas and new years. The best thing that we did together was him taking me to the equine ranch to see my big stubborn babies. My gentle gients. Shylow was my baby boy I rode on him got bounced off by him. These are horses I'm talking about. They knew what I was thinking when I got there.
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Old 12-12-2015, 07:25 AM   #6
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She was so like her mother, quiet, watching, to see if she would get into trouble. LOl She loved her binky. She was always running, doing, laughing, smiling, and getting on her brother and sister's nerves. No one could fault her for that, could they? I did not. I loved to see her be so inquisitive. To me more mature than the others.

I did not know I would only have these few months with her. I only now dream of what it would be like to see her grow up to be just like her mother. ... . Strong willed, defiant, purposely obtuse.

We will never get the chance. To know. Ahhhhh, life! How it tortures us.

How we had to send her away. And we didn't want to. But our beliefs, our traditions forbade us from keeping her with us.

The memories, oh damn, the memories, are so liquid, so fluid.

So daunting are the what if's. What could have been. The what could have beens.

She will be immortal to me.
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Old 12-25-2015, 05:02 AM   #7
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Ahhhh Issa~

This would have been your 2nd Christmas with your fam. Tearing into presents and fighting over toys, cookies and warm milk, eating mint chocolates while the fam cooked and finished Christmas dinner. Being so fussy from all the candy to really eat.

This would have been the first time you got to make snow angels and help with making a snow man. Having a snow ball hit you square in the face and crying until someone picked you up, after taking 50 pictures of you and laughing.

The first time your nose would have turned red and you got to wear your new mittens and matching scarf and hat.

Falling asleep in Poppa Bo's lap, while he watched football, and eating ice cream with his sugar free pie.

How the family misses you. How I miss you. I miss you my little poppit.

Our family doesn't believe in heaven. We believe in the happy hunting grounds. I didn't want you to leave, but I know you are safe where you are at. Living with your great great grandmas, learning Cheyenne and Navajo, learning to cook, tanning hides, making sinew, learning to make choke cherry gravy and waiting for us.

One day closer. To you.

~A.
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Old 02-26-2016, 12:40 PM   #8
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Thinking of you today. Listened to that one song that reminds me of you, singing along like no one can hear me. I miss you babygirl. I miss the smiles, the running patter of your little feet, the brown curls around your face, your pug nose, the chocolate spots on your face, the light freckles from your daddy. Your chubby little hands, the way your face would scrunch up when you didn't get your way.

I miss how exasperated you would make your mom and I would just laugh. How you would come jump in my lap or give me a hug and call me aunt, even though I was one of many grandmas.

Every time I see your grandma Lana, your name comes up, and there are tears of pain and sorrow. But at the same time I can hear the love in her voice of missing you little biz biz. Missing you and wanting to see you again, to hold you again, to hear you again.

May you be forever remembered. You will always be loved. Always. Loving you always my little poppit.

Your grandma Annette.
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Last edited by C&HBrownsugar; 02-26-2016 at 12:45 PM..
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