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The loss of my father was the most traumatic event in my life - I can't forget the pain.

My heart was beating out of my chest.

I always felt I was wounded. That I was no good, a piece of crap, and that I wouldn't amount to anything, because that's what my father always told me. I just felt like I didn't belong anywhere.

I was terribly wounded by my wife's death.

The tender heart, the broken and contrite spirit, are to me far above all the joys that I could ever hope for in this vale of tears.

Losing my daughter was a very serious pain. There was always some empty space in my heart.

My heart got broken so many times because I put so much pressure on it. And then... I got blindsided.

My father's death, my move, and my frightening and difficult delivery created a tremendous amount of stress, pain, and sadness for me. I was practically devastated beyond recovery.

With the help of a friend I got father into a wagon, when the crowd had gone. I held his head in my lap during the ride home. I believed he was mortally wounded. He had been stabbed down through the kidneys, leaving an ugly wound.

Love and pain become one in the same in the eyes of a wounded child.