Terri Winaught was born in Philadelphia and spent most of her life in Pittsburgh, where she works for a local mental-health organization and has a Masters in Education with a specialization in counseling. When not writing, she loves attending Pirates baseball and Pitt football games with her husband; singing in her Church choir; going out with friends for a meal or snack, and saying her favorite expression to people who are nice to her: "You should be cloned!"
Tribute to Tania
I wish I could have known you, baby girl: born in a decade of challenge, change, pain and promise.
I wish I would have known you when your voice became a harp that enchanted listeners, soared to the sky like a robin and sang the sun to sleep.
If I would have known you when cancer began stealing so much like the cowardly, cruel thief that it is, I would have shaved my head if that would have helped you feel less alone and different.
When I get to meet you, I'll have so much to tell you.
I'll tell you how happy I was to meet your father after 50 years of waiting and wanting.
I'll tell you what a warm, welcoming and gentle woman your mother is.
I'll tell you that your daughter is such a precious, priceless gift that your soul must have sung lullabies of love when you first saw her.
I know I'll get to meet you when the fevered pitch of my earthly life is done, and I'm called to my eternal home.
With eyes that will see for the first time, I'll survey the features that make you special; embrace you, Tania, as if I've always known you, and our dancing feet will create works of beauty.
When trumpets blare along gold-paved streets, we'll know that our tears have turned into rejoicing, and life is now complete!
~Terri Winaught
Tribute to Tania
I wish I could have known you, baby girl: born in a decade of challenge, change, pain and promise.
I wish I would have known you when your voice became a harp that enchanted listeners, soared to the sky like a robin and sang the sun to sleep.
If I would have known you when cancer began stealing so much like the cowardly, cruel thief that it is, I would have shaved my head if that would have helped you feel less alone and different.
When I get to meet you, I'll have so much to tell you.
I'll tell you how happy I was to meet your father after 50 years of waiting and wanting.
I'll tell you what a warm, welcoming and gentle woman your mother is.
I'll tell you that your daughter is such a precious, priceless gift that your soul must have sung lullabies of love when you first saw her.
I know I'll get to meet you when the fevered pitch of my earthly life is done, and I'm called to my eternal home.
With eyes that will see for the first time, I'll survey the features that make you special; embrace you, Tania, as if I've always known you, and our dancing feet will create works of beauty.
When trumpets blare along gold-paved streets, we'll know that our tears have turned into rejoicing, and life is now complete!
~Terri Winaught
