One afternoon I walked with my mother to the bridge where Elijah drowned. A few letters and dried flowers remain as a caring tribute to my nephew whom I never met. One note reads "Little boy, I'm sorry for your passing and I'm just eight years old and so please say hello to my Granddad."
And another: "I hope you be good for God."
I also walked through Beenleigh cemetery a few times to visit Elijah's grave. In some way the surrounding gum trees and abundance of green grass lightened my heart.
Under every burden, God will slip His hand.
Every gulf of sorrow, His great love has spanned.
Into every heartache, God will pour His balm;
Ease the pain and anguish, bring a blessed calm.
Come Away My Beloved by Frances J. Roberts