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"Put your Hand into my wounds," said the risen Jesus to Thomas, "and you will know who I am." The wounds of Christ are his identity. They tell us who he is. He did not lose them. They went down into the grave with him-visible, tangible, palable. Rising did not remove them. He who broke the bonds of death kept his wounds. To believe in Christ's rising from the grave is to accept it as a sign of our own rising from our graves. If for each of us it was our destiny to be obliterated , and for all of us together it was our destiny to fade away withou a trace, then not Christ's rising but my only son's early dying would be the logo of our fate. Slowly I begin to see that there is something more as well. To believe in Christ's rising and deaths dying is also to live with the power and the challenge to rise up now from all our dark graves of suffering love. If sympathy for the world's wounds is not enlarged by our anguish, if love for those around us is not expanded, if gratitude for what is good does not flame up, if insight is not deepened, if commitment to what is important is not strenghtened , if aching for a new day is not intensified, if hope is weakened and faith diminished, if from the experience of death comes nothing good, then death has won. Then death, be proud. So I shall struggle to live the reality of Christ's rising and deaths dying. In my living, my son's dying will not be the last word. But as I rise up, I bear the wounds of his death. My rising does not remove them. They mark me, they identify me. If you want to know who I am, put your hand in.

This memorial website was created in the memory of my "Baby Boy", Clay Anthony. He was born in Tallahasse, Florida on March 29, 1989 and went to live with Jesus on September 14, 2007 at the age of 18. He was in a car wreck, but I have assurance from "My God" that just as he was not put here by accident, neither was he taken by accident.
Clay is a most special son who is not afraid to love. He grew up in Cairo, Georgia and had many friends. He also had a girlfriend, Brittany Guerrero. Brittany was his very first love in first grade and his last love. Clay has three sisters who love him very much, Heather, Christani and Caitlyn. Clay has a brother-in-law, Jesse Belcher, who serves in the U.S. Army and was deployed in Iraq. Clay also has a nephew, Jaiden Belcher who was born June 6, 2007. Clay loved to draw and was a wonderful artist. Clay was also extremely skilled in computers and other technology. He could draw anything that he ever looked at or anything that someone dream up. He had hoped to go to Full Sail in Orlando, Florida to obtain a degree in computer animation. Clay had recently graduated high school and was working as an electrician.
Clay could always make people laugh and smile. He was always a good listener and problem solver for his friends. I will cherish every minute that God allowed me to be his parent on this earth. My love for my son will never leave nor the memories he gave me. I will miss him every second of every minute, every minute of every hour and every hour of every day. I keep my heart fixed on God's promise that I will reunite with him someday 
 

                            Chip ,Clay,Kurtis,Duane         

A Child that loses a parent is an orphan.
A man that loses his wife is a widower.
A woman that loses her husband is a widow.
There is no name for a parent that loses a child.
There is no word to describe the pain 

A MOTHERS PAIN

♥
You see me smiling.
What you don't see is that I am screaming behind that smile .
You see me go on with
everything....work....groceries.....life in general.
What you don't see is that it takes every ounce of
energy I have just to breathe.
You see me alone with my thoughts.
What you don't see is me talking to Him
You see me say "I am fine".
What you don't see is the huge hole in my heart that can never be filled.
You see me and think "she's back to normal".
What you don't see is that there is no normal for me anymore. You see me and think "Oh my God I hope this never happens to me"
What you don't see is that as much as I long for you to understand me... I hope this never happens to you either.
You see me joking and laughing with others and think she must be getting over what has happened.
What you don't see is that I can never forget, nor would I want to, you don't get over the loss of a child.
You see me sad and don't know what to say so you keep going.
What you don't see is all I really want is for you to ask how I am doing, really, and give me a hug.
You see that life goes on.
What you don't see is on September 14th, 2007, that the life I had will never be the same .
You see that I am strong...... do not be deceived.
What you don't see is that I am weak and weary. Some days "I am 6 feet from the edge".
What you see is a mask....a lie. The mask helps you cope with me and me cope with myself.
What you don't see is the raw sometimes unbearable pain.
You don't see me being unable to breathe.
What you don't see is my despair. You don't see me screaming to heaven for God to give my son back.
What you don't see you could never understand anyway unless you walk a mile in my shoes.... God Forbid.