"Another July has nearly passed without me knowing you."
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE..
Wish I could go back to the day when angels came and took you away.
I wanted to hold your hand so tight, kiss you gently and say goodnight.
And then just before you had to go, I would tell you how much I love you so.
I didn't know how, I don't know why, I never got the chance to say goodbye.
By John F Connor
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"Our lives are made up of so many people and when people become parts of our lives, some parts remain long after they leave. And in the same exact way, it is comforting to know there are still so many lives you're still a part of that you have no idea about." Unknown ~ 10.19.2020
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Arthur Stewart, or Arty as he was known to his family and friends, was born on Wednesday, January 2, 1963 at Wyckoff Hospital in Brooklyn, New York. He was delivered by Filippo Cucinella, M.D.
Arty died from a cocaine induced heart attack on a beautiful sunny summer afternoon, Friday, July 27, 1990, at about 4:00 p.m., near the apartment he rented with his partner, his love, the mother of his children Rosa Guzman and their 11-1/2 month old son Arthur Christian Stewart on Bennet Avenue, in Yonkers, New York. He was only 27 years old.
Cocaine ~ the thief of families ~ had taken another willing victim.
The day Arty died so many lives were changed forever ~ especially that of his devoted love Rosa, their cherished 11-1/2 month old son Arthur Christian, their anticipated bundle of joy ~ their daughter ~ who was to be born in December of 1990 - 5 months after her father's death - Tabatha Rose Stewart ~ whose name Arty had picked out.
The hearts of his siblings were broken beyond repair and they were left forever asking the question ~ why.
Arty was a loyal, generous and loving soul who had a zest for life and no one would have been more shocked about his death than he.
Biography written by Find A Grave Member GWTWQUEENIE. Please do not reprint without permission. Thank You
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Don't hate the addict, hate the disease.
Don't hate the person, hate the behavior.
If its hard to watch it, image how hard it is to live it!
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
Written by: Henry Scott Holland
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
To love an addict is to run out of tears.
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
"Death ends a life. But it does not end a relationship; which struggles on the survivor's mind, toward some resolution, which it may never find."
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE..
Wish I could go back to the day
When angels came and took you away.
I wanted to hold your hand so tight
Kiss you gently and say goodnight.
And then just before you had to go
I would tell you how much I love you so.
I didn't know how I don't know why
I never got the chance to say goodbye.
By John F Connor
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"One thing you never want to do is watch someone you love, that has fought so hard to beat addiction, throw everything away and sink back into a life that will most likely lead to jail or death. You want to grab them and shake them and scream, "What are you doing?!?!" but, at some point, you realize that it wouldn't make a difference. So you sit back and watch the tragedy unfold as if you are watching a movie. Feeling helpless to stop it, feeling like you haven't done enough to help, even though you know only the addict can help themselves. Battling addiction is a beast for the person addicted and for the ones who love them. So I am asking you to stand with me in prayer for every family member, loved one and friend who has lost or is losing their battle with drugs and alcohol and for those who continue to conquer it!"
By: K. Cook on FB 2.26.2023
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE..
Wish I could go back to the day when angels came and took you away.
I wanted to hold your hand so tight, kiss you gently and say goodnight.
And then just before you had to go, I would tell you how much I love you so.
I didn't know how, I don't know why, I never got the chance to say goodbye.
By John F Connor
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"Our lives are made up of so many people and when people become parts of our lives, some parts remain long after they leave. And in the same exact way, it is comforting to know there are still so many lives you're still a part of that you have no idea about." Unknown ~ 10.19.2020
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Arthur Stewart, or Arty as he was known to his family and friends, was born on Wednesday, January 2, 1963 at Wyckoff Hospital in Brooklyn, New York. He was delivered by Filippo Cucinella, M.D.
Arty died from a cocaine induced heart attack on a beautiful sunny summer afternoon, Friday, July 27, 1990, at about 4:00 p.m., near the apartment he rented with his partner, his love, the mother of his children Rosa Guzman and their 11-1/2 month old son Arthur Christian Stewart on Bennet Avenue, in Yonkers, New York. He was only 27 years old.
Cocaine ~ the thief of families ~ had taken another willing victim.
The day Arty died so many lives were changed forever ~ especially that of his devoted love Rosa, their cherished 11-1/2 month old son Arthur Christian, their anticipated bundle of joy ~ their daughter ~ who was to be born in December of 1990 - 5 months after her father's death - Tabatha Rose Stewart ~ whose name Arty had picked out.
The hearts of his siblings were broken beyond repair and they were left forever asking the question ~ why.
Arty was a loyal, generous and loving soul who had a zest for life and no one would have been more shocked about his death than he.
Biography written by Find A Grave Member GWTWQUEENIE. Please do not reprint without permission. Thank You
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Don't hate the addict, hate the disease.
Don't hate the person, hate the behavior.
If its hard to watch it, image how hard it is to live it!
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
Written by: Henry Scott Holland
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
To love an addict is to run out of tears.
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
"Death ends a life. But it does not end a relationship; which struggles on the survivor's mind, toward some resolution, which it may never find."
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE..
Wish I could go back to the day
When angels came and took you away.
I wanted to hold your hand so tight
Kiss you gently and say goodnight.
And then just before you had to go
I would tell you how much I love you so.
I didn't know how I don't know why
I never got the chance to say goodbye.
By John F Connor
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"One thing you never want to do is watch someone you love, that has fought so hard to beat addiction, throw everything away and sink back into a life that will most likely lead to jail or death. You want to grab them and shake them and scream, "What are you doing?!?!" but, at some point, you realize that it wouldn't make a difference. So you sit back and watch the tragedy unfold as if you are watching a movie. Feeling helpless to stop it, feeling like you haven't done enough to help, even though you know only the addict can help themselves. Battling addiction is a beast for the person addicted and for the ones who love them. So I am asking you to stand with me in prayer for every family member, loved one and friend who has lost or is losing their battle with drugs and alcohol and for those who continue to conquer it!"
By: K. Cook on FB 2.26.2023
"Another July has nearly passed without me knowing you."
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE..
Wish I could go back to the day when angels came and took you away.
I wanted to hold your hand so tight, kiss you gently and say goodnight.
And then just before you had to go, I would tell you how much I love you so.
I didn't know how, I don't know why, I never got the chance to say goodbye.
By John F Connor
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"Our lives are made up of so many people and when people become parts of our lives, some parts remain long after they leave. And in the same exact way, it is comforting to know there are still so many lives you're still a part of that you have no idea about." Unknown ~ 10.19.2020
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Arthur Stewart, or Arty as he was known to his family and friends, was born on Wednesday, January 2, 1963 at Wyckoff Hospital in Brooklyn, New York. He was delivered by Filippo Cucinella, M.D.
Arty died from a cocaine induced heart attack on a beautiful sunny summer afternoon, Friday, July 27, 1990, at about 4:00 p.m., near the apartment he rented with his partner, his love, the mother of his children Rosa Guzman and their 11-1/2 month old son Arthur Christian Stewart on Bennet Avenue, in Yonkers, New York. He was only 27 years old.
Cocaine ~ the thief of families ~ had taken another willing victim.
The day Arty died so many lives were changed forever ~ especially that of his devoted love Rosa, their cherished 11-1/2 month old son Arthur Christian, their anticipated bundle of joy ~ their daughter ~ who was to be born in December of 1990 - 5 months after her father's death - Tabatha Rose Stewart ~ whose name Arty had picked out.
The hearts of his siblings were broken beyond repair and they were left forever asking the question ~ why.
Arty was a loyal, generous and loving soul who had a zest for life and no one would have been more shocked about his death than he.
Biography written by Find A Grave Member GWTWQUEENIE. Please do not reprint without permission. Thank You
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Don't hate the addict, hate the disease.
Don't hate the person, hate the behavior.
If its hard to watch it, image how hard it is to live it!
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
Written by: Henry Scott Holland
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
To love an addict is to run out of tears.
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
"Death ends a life. But it does not end a relationship; which struggles on the survivor's mind, toward some resolution, which it may never find."
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE..
Wish I could go back to the day
When angels came and took you away.
I wanted to hold your hand so tight
Kiss you gently and say goodnight.
And then just before you had to go
I would tell you how much I love you so.
I didn't know how I don't know why
I never got the chance to say goodbye.
By John F Connor
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"One thing you never want to do is watch someone you love, that has fought so hard to beat addiction, throw everything away and sink back into a life that will most likely lead to jail or death. You want to grab them and shake them and scream, "What are you doing?!?!" but, at some point, you realize that it wouldn't make a difference. So you sit back and watch the tragedy unfold as if you are watching a movie. Feeling helpless to stop it, feeling like you haven't done enough to help, even though you know only the addict can help themselves. Battling addiction is a beast for the person addicted and for the ones who love them. So I am asking you to stand with me in prayer for every family member, loved one and friend who has lost or is losing their battle with drugs and alcohol and for those who continue to conquer it!"
By: K. Cook on FB 2.26.2023
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE..
Wish I could go back to the day when angels came and took you away.
I wanted to hold your hand so tight, kiss you gently and say goodnight.
And then just before you had to go, I would tell you how much I love you so.
I didn't know how, I don't know why, I never got the chance to say goodbye.
By John F Connor
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"Our lives are made up of so many people and when people become parts of our lives, some parts remain long after they leave. And in the same exact way, it is comforting to know there are still so many lives you're still a part of that you have no idea about." Unknown ~ 10.19.2020
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Arthur Stewart, or Arty as he was known to his family and friends, was born on Wednesday, January 2, 1963 at Wyckoff Hospital in Brooklyn, New York. He was delivered by Filippo Cucinella, M.D.
Arty died from a cocaine induced heart attack on a beautiful sunny summer afternoon, Friday, July 27, 1990, at about 4:00 p.m., near the apartment he rented with his partner, his love, the mother of his children Rosa Guzman and their 11-1/2 month old son Arthur Christian Stewart on Bennet Avenue, in Yonkers, New York. He was only 27 years old.
Cocaine ~ the thief of families ~ had taken another willing victim.
The day Arty died so many lives were changed forever ~ especially that of his devoted love Rosa, their cherished 11-1/2 month old son Arthur Christian, their anticipated bundle of joy ~ their daughter ~ who was to be born in December of 1990 - 5 months after her father's death - Tabatha Rose Stewart ~ whose name Arty had picked out.
The hearts of his siblings were broken beyond repair and they were left forever asking the question ~ why.
Arty was a loyal, generous and loving soul who had a zest for life and no one would have been more shocked about his death than he.
Biography written by Find A Grave Member GWTWQUEENIE. Please do not reprint without permission. Thank You
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Don't hate the addict, hate the disease.
Don't hate the person, hate the behavior.
If its hard to watch it, image how hard it is to live it!
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged.
Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without the ghost of a shadow upon it.
Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just round the corner.
All is well. Nothing is hurt; nothing is lost. One brief moment and all will be as it was before. How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
Written by: Henry Scott Holland
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
To love an addict is to run out of tears.
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
"Death ends a life. But it does not end a relationship; which struggles on the survivor's mind, toward some resolution, which it may never find."
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
♥༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻♥
I NEVER GOT THE CHANCE TO SAY GOODBYE..
Wish I could go back to the day
When angels came and took you away.
I wanted to hold your hand so tight
Kiss you gently and say goodnight.
And then just before you had to go
I would tell you how much I love you so.
I didn't know how I don't know why
I never got the chance to say goodbye.
By John F Connor
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
"One thing you never want to do is watch someone you love, that has fought so hard to beat addiction, throw everything away and sink back into a life that will most likely lead to jail or death. You want to grab them and shake them and scream, "What are you doing?!?!" but, at some point, you realize that it wouldn't make a difference. So you sit back and watch the tragedy unfold as if you are watching a movie. Feeling helpless to stop it, feeling like you haven't done enough to help, even though you know only the addict can help themselves. Battling addiction is a beast for the person addicted and for the ones who love them. So I am asking you to stand with me in prayer for every family member, loved one and friend who has lost or is losing their battle with drugs and alcohol and for those who continue to conquer it!"
By: K. Cook on FB 2.26.2023
